His smile shimmered through her heart. He kissed her, his mouth gently demanding. From that moment on, there wasn’t a lot of conversation to be had, and she didn’t give a damn.

DOYLE CROSSED HIS ARMS, WATCHING KIRBY CAREFULLY unwrap the present Helen had left her. Once the ribbon and paper had been removed, she peeled off the tape holding the lid down, letting it fly away on the wind as she opened the box. She didn’t say anything for several seconds, but a frown marred her features.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

“Nothing.” She plucked a folded piece of paper from the box. “I guess I was just expecting something more than a note.”

If Helen had gifted Kirby with her powers, then she certainly had left more than just a note. “Open it.”

She hesitated, then bit her lip and did so. Her voice was little more than a whisper when she finally spoke. “It’s a spell. She’s left me—”

“All that she was,” he finished for her.

She nodded, blinking back tears as she met his gaze. “Why do that? Why the hell didn’t she just keep her powers and save herself?”

“Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she knew there was no escaping her fate, and this was her way of stopping the witch from getting her powers.” He glanced at the time. They would have to get moving if they were going to be ready by midnight.

“She could have run from her fate. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d done it.”

“Her name was given to the manarei,” he reminded her gently. “Not yours. She couldn’t have outrun her fate, not without endangering your life as well.”

She didn’t reply, but he could feel her pain and her anger so fiercely it might as well have been his own. And while he ached to comfort her, they simply didn’t have the time. “Kirby,” he added, “we need to get ready.”

She took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath, then nodded. “Tell me what to do.”

He handed her a small dagger, then took the note from her. “Cut a circle around those items we have on the ground and make it large enough for you to sit comfortably in.”

As she did so, he read the note. As he’d feared, Helen’s inst

ructions were quite specific on one point—no one could be in the protective circle with her when she invoked the spell.

It worried him. He had no doubt this spell was dangerous, which was why he was taking as many precautions as he could. But the best way of protecting her was to be with her, helping with the spell, sharing his energy with her and watching for dangers. With that option gone, he was left with little more to do than prowl around the outside of the circle and hope like hell nothing went wrong.

She finished the dirt circle and glanced up. “What now?”

“Pour the water along the line you’ve just drawn, but make sure you don’t step out of the circle.” Once she’d finished that, he added, “And do the same with the salt.”

She nodded and walked around again. The wind caught at her nightdress, twisting it around her bare legs. Even though the moon was lost to the clouds and provided very little light, the outline of her body was visible through the sheer material. He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. While he understood the need for her to be wearing something special, something clean and new, for the spell, he wished it had been anything else but the nightie. She looked too vulnerable. Too desirable. It could attract the wrong sort of attention just as easily as the right.

Overhead, thunder rumbled, an ominous sound in the night’s silence. He glanced at his watch. Helen’s note said to be ready by midnight. It was three minutes to.

“Done.”

He met her gaze, saw the fear lurking in the depths of her eyes. Wished again that he could hold her. Comfort her. “Good. Now sit in the middle and take several deep, calming breaths.”

She did, crossing her legs, her arms resting on her knees, palms up, as if meditating.

“Now, I want you to raise your body energy by tightening your muscles. Start at your toes, and work your way up. Imagine the energy as a purple mist … Squeeze it up through your body until it reaches your hands.”

He hesitated, waiting. Saw her slowly tense, felt the thrum of magic beginning to pulse through the air. Midnight was a minute away. They didn’t have much time. “Now, without moving, send that energy out through your fingers and in a clockwise circle around you. Imagine yourself encased in an orb of purple fire. Feel the power of it pulsing through you and out into the night.”

The air shimmered, crackling with energy. Overhead, thunder ripped. Lightning forked across the skies, briefly turning night into day and electrifying the air around them.

“Now, repeat the spell exactly as Helen wrote it.”

She began murmuring. Light flared across the night again, faster, closer than before. He frowned, looking skyward. He didn’t like the feel of this.

Lightning split the night and crashed to the ground. Energy rippled through the earth, tingling through his boots and up his legs. Not energy from the fast-approaching storm, but from Kirby, from the spell she was murmuring. He clenched his fists and prowled around the circle, needing to move, to do something to ease the fear sitting like a weight in his gut.

Tags: Keri Arthur Damask Circle Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net