Page 73 of Love's a Witch
I threw a cushion at her head.
“Shut up. I was just thinking out loud.”
“But it is a good starting point. Not to say that people who are married are all in love and all that, but we could maybe start narrowing down the bloodline by those that are single.” Lyra fed Blue a few pieces of chicken, and he did a wee dance on the counter, his paws making a fun little tippy-tapping sound against the Formica.
“Assuming they even live here.” Broca tapped her finger against her lips as she thought. I wasn’t sure how I’d missed the fashion gene, but she always looked good, and today’s lemon-yellow silk pants, lime-green top, and bright orange–rimmed glasses just worked. She looked like a citrus plant—in the best way possible.
Blood magick. Dark curse. Keeps them close.
“Blue says dark magick will keep the person close.”
“He’s not wrong.” Broca nodded thoughtfully. “You pay a great price for using dark magick, and oftentimes it can bind you to the area of your ritual.”
“How can that be?” Nova protested, closing her drawing pad and leaning back on her arms. “I’ve read enough accounts of witches who are extremely savvy in the dark arts and travel all over the world.”
“Och, I said oftentimes, but not always.” Broca nodded her approval at Nova. “The thing with magick is that there will always be outliers. There will always be people who practice and grow to such a level that they become the exception. Those practitioners are the scariest, so they are. The stronger a dark witch becomes, the more they know how to offset the potential repercussions of using power to harm. But in this case, from my understanding, it was a young witch new to her magick. She wouldn’t have had time to protect her own bloodline from harm revisited on her for using such a curse. She wouldn’t have likely learned how not to be tethered to this place. It’s highly probable her bloodline is still here because of that. Nothing is for certain, but I’d lay money on it.”
“Which says a lot, considering you only like to spend on name brands.” Lyra blew a kiss at Broca and came to join me at the couch, Blue bobbing along in the air behind her, still hopeful for more food.
“So shouldn’t we be spending time trying to find them?” Nova asked.
“I guarantee they’ll be well shrouded. It’s not just like looking up a name in the phone book.”
“What’s a phone book?” Nova fluttered her eyelashes at Broca, who glared at her.
“Och, this one’s got a smart mouth, doesn’t she? Like nothing existed before Google.”
“Learned from the best.” Nova held up her arms when I threatened to throw another cushion at her.
“Right, let’s crack on, then, shall we?” Lyra said, casting an eye at the timer on the oven. “I don’t want to burn my pie.”
“Oh, aye, let’s hurry this ancient blood ritual that might take the curse off our bloodline in time for Lyra’s pie to come out of the oven.” I rolled my eyes as I slid to the floor next to the table we’d pulledclose to Broca’s chair. On it, I’d put a small bowl above a Bunsen burner–style candle, and with a dash of honey and whisky inside.
“Are the hematite stones in place?” Broca asked, looking around the room. Lyra had created a circle with crystals she’d picked up from the Crystal Cavern.
“Aye,” Lyra said, leaning forward over the table.
“Heather bloom and thistle’s thorn,
Shield me now from harm unborn.
Circle o’ light, fierce and bright,
Keep all ill beyond my sight.”
A shimmer in the air, almost like the surface of still water being disrupted by a dragonfly, and Broca had cast the circle.
“Sloane?” Lyra offered me a gold pin to prick my finger. I did it quickly, keeping my mind clear, and dripped my blood into the dish. The rest of the women did the same, and then Lyra stirred the mixture with a small silver spoon with Celtic insignia on the handle.
“By blood that bound, by love now freed,
Let this curse be undone in word and deed.
Honey sweet, whisky strong,
Upend this heartache to right a wrong.”
Three times we repeated the spell, passed the cup around for a wee sip each, and then we waited, our breath holding.
