Page 82 of When Bones Whisper
Charlotte’s stomach hollowed. Her mother had read those grimoires, and her grandmother had warned her too. They didn’t practice magic because they believed it wicked, but because they were afraid. Every witch had to unlock her power through her first spell. By warning her and Alice away from magic, she could stop them from activating the magic within their veins. Their mother knew what would happen if they did. There was so few of them left in the bloodline, that she didn’t want either of her daughters ending up like Penelope Serea.
Wait a minute.
She glanced back up at the words under her portrait.
It was taken from her.
Someone stole all the magic from the Serea bloodline, which meant someone could take hers too. She was, after all, the last in her line. Which was likely why Gertrude hadn’t outright killed her and hexed her. She didn’t want Charlotte’s soul, but her body, so she could sacrifice her in a ritual to take it all from her, to make herself even more powerful.
A wave of nausea washed over her.
“Katherine channeled me,” Charlotte told Duke, who jerked at her unexpected conversation. “When we entered the Realm of the Dead. She gave me a load of twaddle, saying it’s because I had been close to death, but it’s because I’m powerful, Duke.”
Charlotte bet it was Gertrude who took the power from the last in the Serea family and that was why she didn’t kill Charlotte there and then. She wanted to sacrifice her on her ancestral grounds, so she could take all the magic from the Lysanmore bloodline. She did it to the Sereas, which meant no witch family was safe.
With a gasp, Charlotte told Duke, “Of course. Gertrude slowed down her ageing process. It takes an inordinate amount of magic to pull off a spell so complex and ongoing. The Avery bloodline is vast, their power is diluted but I felt Gertrude’s. It was potent.”
Wiping her forehead, she said, “I think I know what to do.” Charlotte told Duke, who rubbed his nose against her fingers, relief in his eyes. “You knew, didn’t you?”
He purred.
“If only you could talk.”
He meowed and she smiled.
“I was told familiars aid witches with their spells,” she said slowly, a glint in her green eyes. “Will you stay with me while I try?”
He tilted his head, blinking slowly.
“Good. Because I’m going to face my demon, Duke. I’m going to stop her” With a shudder, she glanced at the gap in the curtains, the reflection of the demon in the window, closer than ever.
She just hoped she could make it back to my body before she took it from her.
After she gathered all the materials from the kitchen, she sat cross-legged in the middle of her floor with Duke in her lap, surrounded by a circle of black salt, and candles, the flames illuminating the symbols inscribed onto the parchment spell pages of the grimoire.
She breathed in a heady breath of beeswax, mugwort, thyme, and rosemary. The patchouli would hopefully ground her enough.
The air was thick with smoke, her heartbeat raging as she looked over the incantations on the page to commune with the dead. Careful of her intonation, she recited the Latin. “Eos qui trans velum sunt invito ut mecum communicent. Adiuvate me. Velum rumpite, sed hunc circulum ne transeatis.”
Charlotte closed her eyes, summoning the shadows that clung to the corners of the room. She took a deep breath, allowing the energy to coil around her.
“Fluat per me potentia tua ut inimicis meis imperare possim.”
Sacrificial magic was needed because the power witches had on their own was not enough, but she had enough on her own. She could feel the magic of her ancestors coursing through her when the candles flickered wildly.
Duke stirred slightly, his claws curling into the bare skin of her legs. A jolt of energy pulsed through her palms, a bubbling power searing into her veins, flushing heat through her limbs, erasing any tightness in her joints.
All she had to do was lure it into the circle and trap it there and get back to her body before it did.
The veil fell in tatters around her. Mist shrouded the floor, hiding the circle of salt and candles.
Swallowing thickly, Charlotte stepped out of her body, looking around at the empty room.
Where was the demon?
Slowly, she turned, knowing it wouldn’t come in if she was in the circle. Hesitantly, she stepped outside of it, leaving her body alone.
The temperature dropped, sending goosebumps prickling her arms and neck. With a shudder, she slowly turned, sensing eyes on her from the doorway. The smell of sulfur burned the air around her nostrils.
