Chapter 26

Twenty-Six

We watch as dawn breaks, and together, we drain an enormous pot of coffee.

They have to leave, and as much as I hate that they have to go… I have my fair share of things to sort out as well.

Chase grumbles and leans against me, inhaling deeply. "I could stay longer."

"You could, but then you wouldn't get any sleep and I've been told you're a very grumpy old wolf when you're sleep deprived."

The sound he makes is only a confirmation of what Johnny told me.

"I might swing by this afternoon. I want to put a few more protection spells around your house."

"It's sweet that you want to keep us safe."

I stop him, because that sounds like a prelude to a "but".

"I'd like to point out that all four of you have been on the bad side of magic and wound up with a monthly problem… I trust you to take care of yourselves… but when it comes to magic, I'm going to help you as much as I can."

He dips his head in a short nod and kisses the corner of my mouth. "We can't really argue with that, can we?"

"Nope."

Chase is the last to let me go.

"Wear the pinstripe skirt." His lips press against my skin again. "With stockings and your garter belt and nothing else under it."

When he pulls back to look at me again, he smiles. "I don't know if I'm going to have time to get you out of your clothes before I have to run to work."

His kiss steals the laugh I would have responded with, and he jogs to the car when Johnny honks.

I watch them go, their wolves stirring around me. The first full moon has passed. And despite everything I might have guessed… I might get to keep them.

A chill creeps around me and I tug my robe closer before I slip back inside and shut the door to keep all the warmth and memory inside.

The coffee did what it needed to do, but I'm not going to feel human until I've had at least one full cup of tea.

I don't know when they found the time to clean up, but my kitchen is spotless. Even the coffee cups are on the drying mat.

I wish they were coming home to me tonight, but that's not how this works.

It could be…

I walk to the table where the version of the floor plan Joshua was working on in actual pencil rests among the other papers.

The renovation plan is still rough, but it is beautiful. And written beneath the floor plan, in Joshua's sharp script: "Dreaming."

But it's the darker paper beneath it that catches my eye.

Grandma's unnamed spell.

They must have found it while straightening up and set it with the other papers here.

The easiest way to figure out what it does would be to follow it… But that would also be the most dangerous.

Who knows what she was up to. Especially that long ago.

But there's another spell I need to perform.

I collect all the things I need and take them into my bathroom where the last ingredient for the spell still sits in the cabinet where I left it last night.

I spread an altar cloth first, placing each item in a circle around my empty jar and when I sit in front of it, I light the red candle, whispering words of hope and affirmation into the wax.

I say each of their names as I place four dried red rosebuds inside and my own as I place a white one on top.

It isn't a love spell.

Aside from the fact they're heinous and only lead to despair in the end… I wouldn't want them if it meant I had to trick them into loving me.

This is for strength and protection.

I sprinkle in rosemary, rue, and lavender to fill in between and listen to the faint sound as they tinkle against the glass.

When they settle, I uncork the bottle from last night. If I didn't know they were werewolves, the amount in the jar might have startled me. Supernatural creatures' were scarce enough, the magics that made them wanted to make damned sure they passed their genetics on.

More whispered words and I stream the mixture of our come over the roses letting it drip and coat and seal in the protections and peace this spell is designed for.

And when the jar in my hand is empty—when I've used that tiny bit of magic to pull the last of it from one to the other—I swirl the spell jar and take a moment to study the way that part of us has mixed with the herbs and flowers.

I know witches who would add glitter for the sparkle. Know others who would add amethyst or jet.

But there is only one thing I have left to add to the mixture within the jar.

The bag of black sand glitters on its own and when I pour it over top, it forms a layer. Binding, grounding, and protecting all at once.

The red candle gutters despite the still air. Wax pools in the vessel that holds it.

When I screw the lid down tight, I feel the flutter of the spell on my skin and know they'll feel it too, even if they don't know what it is, exactly.

I offer my breath to the strength of the spell and blow the candle out, taking it from the stand at the center of its vessel before I begin to drip the melted wax over the jar to seal it in tight.

As the wax drips down the metal and glass, I whisper more words I won't share with anyone. And when the spell is done, I feel like there's a little more space in my chest… a little more air in my lungs.

Taking the jar in both hands, I stand and walk it out to the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand, beside the amulets for sound sleep and pleasant dreams.

Even if I can't be with them… They will be with me.

It only takes a moment to set the few remnants of the spell on the cart in the bathroom to be put away later. And when that is done, I crawl into my bed, turning off the lights with a flick of my wrist and watch the dim glow of the spell jar until my lids are too heavy, and I drift off to sleep.

When I wake, it's to the angry sound of a buzzing phone and I stumble out into the house, following it the noise like an irritating trail of breadcrumbs.

"I am still alive and unharmed." I say, instead of hello.

"Well that's a relief." My mother sounds grumpy. "Why haven't you answered my calls?"

"I was sleeping." When silence meets my response, I add, "Remember those witchy parties you went to back in college?"

"I don't need to know."

"But you do know, so I'm left wondering why you sound shocked."

"Bagel." She says, with a warning tone. "I'm allowed to be worried. This was the first full moon since your spell."

"And everything was perfectly fine."

"Good." There's relief in the word.

"Have a little faith in what you taught me."

She chuckles and then, there's a pause. "If you conceive on a full moon—"

"Nope." I stop her before she can say anything else. "We are not going to talk about that. It's been a month, and before you say anything else, I want to remind you that that discussion will be between them and me, you will not be involved."

"The coven—"

"They will not be involved either."

"I know, I just… The coven still claims you. They claim ownership of your actions too. Don't forget that. Because I assure you, they won't."

I glance at the clock… I slept longer than I realized.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out soon enough. I need to go. There are a few things I still have to clean up after last night."

"Okay. I love you bagel. I just want to keep you safe."

"I love you too mom."

I hang up and set the phone down before pinching the bridge of my nose. I know she means well. I know why she worries. But it would be nice to not have to think about a random group of other people's feelings and opinions.

That was part of the reason I left.

It only takes me a few minutes to get dressed, and I pick up my phone as I pull my coat on. A quick text later—letting them know I've just woken up and will be at their place after I run some errands—and I'm in the car, headed for town.

I needed the sleep, but leaving them without the extra protections in their home makes my skin itch.

And it doesn't stop itching until I start unloading my basket full of protection items onto the counter at Wexxon's.

Anthony looks at the assembled purchases and his brows pinch. "Everything okay?"

"Someone's just trying to take what's mine." I don't elaborate. Partially because it's none of his business, and partially because I don't feel like dealing with his potential reaction right now. But mostly, I assume anything I say to him, he'll relay to Aphrodite.

"Do you need any help?"

"Thank you, no." Asking for help would both require explanation, and invite him to think I wanted something beyond this vague and distant friendship.

"I have no idea why anyone would try to mess with you. You're the second most powerful witch in the area."

"And it's certainly not Gena who's trying." Though I might want to try to find my way out to the lighthouse road and see if the sea witch has any theories.

"Oh." He looks at the package he's wrapping up… "I'd forgotten about her. I meant Aphrodite."

As he says it he stands a little straighter. Blinking. Like he, too, doesn't really know why he said it.

Then again, maybe he knows something I don't, or maybe… I watch his eyes, looking for any sign of enchantment. He knows how to protect himself, and his shop is filled with items that should protect him by their simple presence. But that look…

"Did she invite you to her full moon festivities last night?"

"She did. It was really great to participate with other witches again. I haven't done that since I left home."

There's a sourness in his words and I know it's at least partially related to the fact I've declined invitations from him in the past.

"I was sad you weren't there."

"I have my own rituals."

His smile tightens. How many times has he heard that, I wonder. The seemingly universal words for a polite way to say "I don't want you around."

"But I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

This time, his smile is genuine. "Yeah, me too."

"Hey, Scarlette?" He scowls down at the counter, brows pinched sharply.

"Yes?"

"Why did you leave your coven?"

I've thought of a dozen ways to skirt that question, but Anthony's looking for information, not dirt.

"When you have that many people together, there will always be at least one who wants power. And if you have more than they do… The politics of a coven, especially one as large as the one I was in, can be easily abused if the right people aren't paying attention."

"Someone wanted to take control?"

"More like someone wanted to cultivate he other witches powers for their own gain. I refused to play a part in it." I look him in the eye. "Don't ever let another witch use you for your power, Anthony. Protect yourself first."

"I thought I was supposed to protect others."

"Just remember airplane oxygen masks."

I leave him with a confused look on his face, but with no doubts that he'll figure it out on his own.

By the time I get to the house, Chase has texted me to let me know he's already left. And I'm a little glad, because this task can't be done in that skirt, and it's nice to not have to disappoint him.

Their front yard isn't landscaped. And at this time of year, the grass is thick and a little overgrown. The juniper against the house needs trimming, but its blue green foliage is thick and the smell is heady.

That's why I go to it first.

I bury a chunk of tourmaline beside the front steps and then walk to the corner of the house, dragging my hand over the damp leaves. The spell I whisper for protection is simple. Three commands repeated as I walk, forming a chain around their home.

"Bless this home and those within. Hold safe their spirits and protect their mortal flesh. What is mine let no one harm."

I bury a piece of tourmaline at the northern corner and repeat my walk and spell to the southern.

When I step back, a shimmery veil extends upward, but it won't blanket the house until I place the remaining stones.

I'm glad I have the key.

When I let myself in, the house is eerily silent. I don't like it without them. It is somehow hollow.

I pass through as quickly as possible and head straight out the back door. But when I go to bury the final piece of stone, I hear the creak of an opening door.

Ignoring it, I cover over the stone, whisper the words one more time and stand.

"What are you doing?"

I flinch when I turn around and Mrs. Miller is right there.

"Just a little gardening… not that it's any of your business."

"It is entirely my business, those boys don't have a mother to talk sense into them, but I'm here to keep them safe."

"Then we both want the same thing."

It's her turn to flinch and she looks at me as though I've laid down a trap.

"If you don't stop vandalizing their property, I will call the cops."

If she had any idea what sort of creatures ran the local department, she'd stay as far away from them as possible.

But her eyes are bloodshot and her veins are oddly pronounced. If I didn't know better, I'd think that Aphrodite's vampire friend had gotten ahold of Mrs. Miller.

But she doesn't show the usual signs.

This is something else.

"There you are." Joshua's voice sounds from behind me, and I turn as he comes down to join us. "I saw your car out front and hoped you'd let yourself in."

He takes my hand and pulls me tight to him to kiss me.

I hear the gasp behind me, but it barely registers. The sparking feeling that courses through me makes me want to hop up into his arms and let him carry me inside.

But the muttering behind me does, eventually, break his spell, and I pull back smiling, and wincing at the same time.

"She is vandalizing your property!"

I turn back as Josuha looks at her, and she's pointing down at the disturbed dirt where I placed the tourmaline.

"Actually, she was checking on something I asked her to. Please stop harassing our friend."

With a sharp breath, Mrs. Miller stomped back into her house and slammed the door behind her.

"Will it be a problem if she comes back and tries to dig that up?"

"No. By the time she thinks to come back out here, they'll have sunk far enough into the foundation that she'd have to literally excavate them."

I lead the way inside and go to where I left my purse on the bench by the table.

"I assume that was part of the protections you wanted to add to the house."

Nodding, I pull the final pieces out. "I've buried some spelled stones at the corners of the house and on either side of your front stoop. Now I just need to hang these over each door—even the basement entrance—and you should be snug as bugs."

I hold up the charms and he takes one from me. "They're pretty."

"Lucky for me you like pretty things." I lay the other two out. I chose the moon medallions as a kind of teasing joke, but I love the way they look in the copper against the wood over the door frame. "I assume a carpenter has a hammer and three nails in his home."

"You assume correctly." He collects them and hangs the charms himself… saving me from having to use a stool or a chair.

With the last one hung over the basement garage door, Joshua drops the hammer on a shelf and scoops me up. "Stay for dinner?"

I want to say yes… but, "I need to go do some research. Mrs. Miller's behavior seems too erratic for your run of the mill busy body neighbor. I'm actually starting to worry about her."

"About her, or for her."

"Both."

Because I have no idea how Aphrodite would have managed it, but if it's blood magic, I don't know who else it could be.

I leave before the others get home… the more of them there are, the harder it is to go.

As soon as I park in front of my house, I dial my mother's number.

"Yes?"

She didn't look at the caller ID.

"Mom, we need to talk about Aphrodite."

She sighs heavily and I hear her move to a quieter room. "No, we don't. You need to leave this alone."

"I'm worried and I feel like you're not taking me seriously."

"It's her I don't take seriously." She sighs heavily into the phone. "Do you honestly think we would have cut her loose like we did if she had the potential to do what you're suggesting?"

No. They wouldn't have.

They would have kept the tenuous thread of a connection to her like they had to me.

"Well, if it's not her, there's still something going on. And I don't know if I can handle it on my own."

"I hesitate to point out that you were the one who wanted to leave."

She knows my reasons, which is why I keep my mouth shut and let her stew in silence.

"I didn't mean to sound that way."

"Regardless of why I wanted to leave, you didn't let me. What do you think will happen if I'm right, this blows up and it kills me, or worse? Even if you keep your mouth shut, Elaria won't. What do you think the rest of the coven will think when you were warned and you left me to deal with it on my own?"

"Don't be dramatic. I have every faith you can handle Aphrodite Lourdes." She hums and for a moment I think she might have thought of something else, but she says, "You are more than capable. I love you, but I have to go."

The next time I call her, I'll force her to tell me why she's constantly running away from our conversations.

But if she's not willing to help…

I pull up Elaria's number and call the one woman I know would help me with anything I asked.

"Hey," she says, something like caution in her voice. "How was your full moon?"

"Amazing."

"Good, I want details."

I can't keep myself from laughing. "Later."

"Fine. We'll do it in person so I can pop some corn and you can really give me the dirt."

"I was actually hoping to get you down here sooner rather than later. I'm starting to think Aphrodite isn't as weak as the coven's convinced she is… Any chance you want to come down and help me figure out what's going on?"

She's quiet for longer than I expect. "I've been ordered not to visit."

"What?"

"After the trial the coven has been ordered to give you… distance. Renée even told your mother to stay put."

"They didn't like my decision and now they're letting me twist, is that it?"

"Probably." She curses and I hear the phone shift in her hair. "Your mom's calling me. I'd bet it's another gag order.

"I love you. Be safe and I'll talk to you as soon as I can."

When she hangs up, I let out a long slow breath and set my phone face down on the counter. There's nothing I can do without driving all the way up to Salem, so I go back to the only thing that I really have any control over.

But instead of continuing on my slow circle of the shelves in the house, I grab a thick knife and walk to the stairs.

Tucked away in the back of the house where no one else ventures, the stairwell leads to the attic. But what I want isn't stored up there.

I stab the knife between the fourth step and the riser, using it like a crowbar. Like the Carraway plot, the stairs hold secrets my mother would rather see buried.

If I still trusted her judgment, I might have hesitated to pry away the tread of this stair but once it's gone…

There isn't a speck of dust on the items therein. Sometimes magic is better than a hermetic seal.

Bottles of emergency potions fill either side of the cavity, but it's the heavy book in the middle that I want.

My grandmother was the sort of woman who had dozens of grimoires in her lifetime. But this one… this was the book where she kept all of her most sacred information. If she had the answer I was looking for, it would be in here.

I leave the stair open as I take the cracked and brittle tome to my island, easing it open.

The pages fall to the side, opening to torn out remnants.

I run my finger along the jagged edge and look over my shoulder to the dining room.

It only takes a second to go to the table, to pick up the nameless spell and place it back in the book. And now, the spell isn't nameless anymore. The page binds itself back into the book. Magic reclaiming its own.

Why my grandmother had a spell for blood binding other witches… I can't begin to guess. How half of it got out of her grimoire…

I look out the back windows and can't help but wonder what she got herself into before she died.