Page 13 of Her Dreadful Will
Dorogoi—Russian fordearordarling, and one of a few hints that made Soleil suspect Luci had Russian ancestry. She wrinkled her nose at the emojis that followed Luci’s pacifying comment—hugs and hearts and smiles.
“I’m not mad,” Soleil admitted. “How are things with you?”
Luci was also trying for Highwitch, but she hadn’t disclosed her thesis to Uzigothgirl or Soleil, and Soleil had never prodded for more info. A novitiate Highwitch’s thesis wasn’t technically secret, but just like one’s true identity, it wasn’t smart to spread the information around, either. Someone might try to steal or sabotage the idea.
“It’s all good here,” Luci responded. “Had a run-in with another witch, but I think it’ll blow over.”
“What did this other witch do?” Soleil typed back. “Do I need to curse somebody for you?” Knife emoji.
“Aw thanks, but no.”
“Well, you let me know how that goes. Nobody messes with my girls. Gotta go now—hyacles to make.”
“Good luck,dorogoi.”
“You too, darling.”
Soleil laid the phone firmly aside, determined to focus. She could lose hours chatting about magic with Luci and Uzigoth. They mostly discussed nature magic, the discipline they had in common, the foundational layer of power accessible to all witches.
She ground her ingredients for a few more minutes, then scooted the mortar and pestle aside and picked up the torch. Time to heat up some glass rods and get this hyacle under way.
Heating the glass and molding it around the core of ingredients was always the trickiest part. Once she got a decent core going, she enjoyed the process of enlarging the sphere, adding more glass and rounding it carefully against the paddle. When it was finally the right size, about the diameter of a large marble, she set it in the mold for more shaping and cooling. After a few hours baking in the kiln and a nice slow cool-down overnight, she’d place the hyacle outdoors in the open sun for the final phase—Unshadowed Light. It must remain in the sun for at least three hours, with not a shadow passing over it during that time. Once it was fully charged with the sun’s uninhibited energy, Soleil would be able to activate and use it whenever she liked.
The Unshadowed Light phase was often the most difficult. If a tree’s shadow, a thick cloud, or a passing bird cast the hyacle into darkness for more than a second or two, the charging clock was set back to zero. That was one reason Soleil had selected a sunny little town in Georgia as her new home. And despite her love of trees, she’d chosen a house with a backyard completely free of them. More space for Carebear to enjoy, and fewer potential shadows to worry about.
Once Mya’s hyacle was baking, Soleil went to the dresser at the end of the workroom, opened a drawer, and drew out an engraved teakwood box. She set it on the table and opened the lid. Inside, nestled in velvet compartments, were twelve of her active hyacles. Each one had its own array of colors and patterns laced through the translucent core.
Soleil picked one up, cupping the heavy glass marble in her palm. She pinched it tightly between her thumb and forefinger, focusing on the center of the sphere. The sunny workroom with its green-glass light disappeared.
She was in Mayor Brownell’s head now, sensing his will—seeing his surroundings. She’d taken special care with this hyacle, since it linked her to the town’s most influential man. The hyacle’s Charmed Essence had been a vial of the mayor’s blood, snagged as part of a complicated scheme she was rather proud of inventing. First she’d given Mayor Brownell the impulse to donate blood at the mobile clinic in the town square. Then she’d donated blood herself, at the same time, and had mind-flexed the nurse into taking an extra sample tube of the mayor’s blood. Afterward, the mayor and the nurse felt compelled to discuss last month’s city hall meeting in great detail, while that tiny tube of blood mysteriously found its way into Soleil’s purse.
The more powerful the Charmed Essence, the clearer the visual element of the hyacle’s connection. Mya’s hyacle, once finished, would probably grant the barest ghostly hints of her surroundings; but the mayor’s yielded sharp, high-definition images.
At the moment, those images included the mayor’s voluptuous assistant, perched on the edge of his desk with her chest thrust out. Soleil gritted her teeth. She thought she’d rooted out this particular habit of the mayor’s, but apparently the magic she’d woven earlier wasn’t enough.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?” The assistant’s breathy voice floated through the tether into Soleil’s mind. The woman tugged her plump lip with her teeth, dragging polished scarlet nails across the breasts swelling through her crisp blouse.
Soleil could feel Mayor Brownell’s arousal through the tether. He was a whisper away from cheating on his wife—again. In his mayoral office.
With her mind tangled up in his, Soleil found it difficult to think clearly. The heat building in his belly, the desire fogging his inhibitions—those sensations thrummed through her own body, powerful and tempting.
“Is there anything under your desk that needs attention?” whispered the assistant.
What if Soleil let it happen? Watched it happen?
The mayor shifted in his office chair, and Soleil mirrored the movement with her own body. The slide of her thighs against the wooden seat reminded her where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. She was supposed to be correcting the mayor’s vagaries and sins, making him a responsible, wise leader instead of a self-indulgent rake who skimmed from funds and pleasured himself with anyone who slow-blinked his way.
Soleil jerked on the thread of his inhibitions, and the mayor sprang out of the office chair, backing across the room. “Get away,” he gasped. “Don’t ever do that again.”
Startled, the assistant slipped off the edge of his desk. “David, what—”
“I mean it. Don’t ever proposition me again, Sarah, or you’re fired. Now, back to work.”
Her mouth tightening, Sarah stalked out of the office.
The mayor stared out the window at the bobbing green branches, flecked with golden sunlight. He passed a palm across his sweating forehead.
Soleil stayed a moment, easing off the tension on the string she had pulled, seeking out the faint melody that was the remnant of the man’s affection for his wife, and enhancing the strength of his will to act on it. It was all she could do for now. She had to save some energy for checking on other hyacles.
