I stand, following her. Her heels click over the wooden floor as she speeds down the hallway.
“I need to get you in a circle of protection.,” Cal explains.
Bo keeps pace with her. “Protection from who?”
“The original spell caster.” She opens a door at the end of the hallway and clicks on a light.
We follow her down wooden steps. I question the way we’re ignoring all horror movie safety protocols as we descend into a basement.
Reaching ground level, we come to a stop in front of her altar. Decorated with antlers, moss, feathers, and a flowing fountain, it has a strange beauty.
“Stand here.” She waves me to the spot she indicates. “I need the four of you to surround her in all four directions.”
She grabs a black bowl from her wooden table. Walking slowly, she creates a small circle around the five of us with salt, speaking a language I don’t understand.
The energy rises in the room. I see a shimmer of a translucent dome settle around us. Pausing, she returns to her altar and pulls out a stick of white chalk.
Kneeling, she sketches an intricate pattern of runes and symbols on the floor. I recognize some of the drawings, but others in the complex array elude me.
She looks like a mathematician trying to solve a challenging equation. Calista leans back. The chalk glows, radiating power.
Rising, she picks up a dark wooden wand with a chunky crystal and places the bowl into the fountain capturing water. Parting her dress, she pulls a dagger free and approaches us.
“I come to the circle in perfect peace with perfect love. May I step inside the circle?”
“Yes.” I swallow.
She cuts a metaphysical door and steps inside the large circle over the line of salt.
Sealing the opening behind her, she stores her knife, dips her fingers into the bowl, and sprinkles me with water from head to toe.
“Cleansing water. Wash away the darkness that doesn’t belong to this woman,” she chants.
Sharp, stabbing pains shoots through my center. My legs buckle. I fall to my knees with a strangled cry.
“Cal,” worry deepens Bo’s voice.
“The binding doesn’t want to be broken,” Cal screams.
I press my hands to my stomach trying to quell the excruciating pain. I rock back and forth. Vision blurring, I gag. The cooling saltwater continues to provide relief as my body heats.
Coughing, I choke on the phlegm secretion stuck in my throat. When I spit, black sludge splatters onto the concrete. Sweat beads across my forehead. The pain spikes higher and I scream.
“You need to stop.” Cadoc’s husky voice has a hint of his wolf in it.
“If I do, the spell will hold. She can handle this.”
Hacking, I continue to expel the foul liquid. Pain fries my brain. Overstimulated, twitching, and sweating, I struggle to remain awake.
Everything hurts. An intense second wave assaults my body, threatening to rip me apart from the inside and I scream. Darkness slips over me. I fight against it.
Pitching forward, I’m caught by strong hands.
“It’s over now, Brat. Time to come back to us.”
“Don’t make us worry, Princess, or we’ll take it out on that pert little ass of yours.”
“Open those hazel eyes for us, sweet one,” Kirk presses his lips to my forehead.
“Ylva, it’s time to wake up.”
A warm hand palms my face. I struggle with the heaviness of my lids.
“There you are.” Fell brushes his thumb across my cheek.
“Let me see those eyes.” Kirk tilts my head back and forth.
Blinking, awareness returns. “What happened?”
Bo’s voice is two octaves too high. “You scared the shit out of us.”
“Here,” Fell props my head up and presses a water bottle to my lips.
I take a sip. The cool water moistens my dry throat.
“Not too much,” Kirk pulls the bottle away. Sighing, I rest my head against Fell.
I feel lighter. “It’s gone.”
