Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

“I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t.”

“Good. And I’ll even make you breakfast, if you’d like.”

“Done deal, Ranger.”

“Good.”

And it was.

After yet another busy day in the café, Belle flopped down into a chair and accepted the coffee I handed her with a weary smile. “You know, we might have to start thinking about employing extra waitresses—even if only part-time.”

“The finances are certainly strong enough to handle it now.” My reply was somewhat absent. Now that I had time to actually sit down and think, a deep sense that something was about to go very wrong was growing.

“Which could just be your natural tendency to worry,” Belle said.

“Or it could just be a signal that everything is about to go batshit crazy.”

She snorted. “Our life basically did that the minute we decided to settle in this reservation.”

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. “But there are various degrees of crazy, and this is feeling like the ‘our life is on the line yet again’ type.”

“Oh, fabulous,” she said. “In which case, maybe we’d better do something about strengthening the spells around the café to include the rejection of fire and fire spirits.”

“Except I’m not entirely sure how we’re going to do that.” I grabbed a teaspoon and scooped up some of the froth from the top of my hot chocolate. “Monty hasn’t yet got around to teaching me the shielding spell he used to protect us when the soucouyant’s fireball exploded.”

“Which only did so because your magic contained and then stopped it.”

I grimaced. “True, but the last thing we want is an explosion here at the café, and if I replicate that spell, that’s just what we might end up with.”

Belle wrinkled her nose. “What about using parts of the containment spell from last night? It did stop her fire—”

“But not the residual heat. The grass had started to catch, remember.”

“Yes, but that stopped when Monty constricted his magic and you secured her. If we try a combination of all three spells, it might just work.”

I glanced at my watch and then rose. “If we’re going to do it, we’d better do it now. Monty said he’d be here about four.”

Belle grabbed her coffee and followed me into the reading room. We pushed back the table and chairs and then sat on the rug. There was no need for spell stones in this place—it was probably one of the best-protected rooms in all Australia.

“At least when it comes to rooms protected by inadequate witches,” Belle commented.

I grinned and held out my hands. Once she’d placed hers in mine, I said, “If you weave the containment spell through the current lines of protection, I’ll reverse its function and add in the fire and fire spirit exceptions.”

She nodded, took a deeper breath, and then begun. I repeated the process and then followed the threads of her magic as she wove it through the network already surrounding the café. I picked up each containment line and carefully added a number of exceptions that would hopefully prevent the soucouyant or her fire affecting the café in any way. It would undoubtedly force a direct attack instead but better we come under threat than her fire not only taking out this place, but also the businesses on either side of us.

Belle finished her threading. Once I caught up with her and we’d tied off the spells, I sat back and studied the result. The magic that protected the outer shell of our building from anything and anyone intending us harm was now a net that extended up the walls and across the roofline. I couldn’t see the latter, of course, but I could feel it.

“Well,” Belle said, a catch of weariness in her voice. “There’ll be no disguising our presence now.”

Not when our protections would glow brighter than a neon light to any witch who passed by the place. “We can always dismantle it once we’ve dealt with the soucouyants.”

“Because of course there won’t be any other spirits rolling in to give us grief.”

Her sarcasm had a smile tugging my lips. “We’d have to be extremely unlucky to get another couple of soucouyants though.”

“Yes, but it’d also be far easier to alter the protections on this one than raise a new one every time some fresh evil decides to hit the reservation.”

“Also true.” I picked up my now lukewarm chocolate and quickly drank it. It didn’t do a whole lot to ease the gathering fatigue, but it was better than nothing. “And we can always hope that fate won’t be the bitch we fear she is.”