“It’s a protection spell,” Marcy answered proudly. “If Jessica explodes this, a five-foot wall of protection will erupt around her like a shield.”
“How long will it last once I use it?” That sounded like something I needed.
“You’ll be lucky if it lasts three minutes.” She chuckled. “If this bokor is extremely powerful, she may be able to bash through it in less than three, but for an average opponent, this spell, mixed dark with your blood, would give you upward of ten minutes. Too bad you’re not fighting a regular sorceress. But it’s better than nothing.”
“What other spells do you have?” Nick asked curiously. He stood near Tyler. Marcy had quite an audience. “And how did you make them with such limited resources?”
I had to admit, I was impressed too.
“All of these spells”—she gestured at the array of pots around her—“are made with simple organic material. Witches’ magic is made of the earth, and these are what we call base spells. You can substitute things on hand for these kinds of spells. It’s only when you start getting technical do you need ‘a single Balm of Gilead bud picked under the new moon’ or the like. Those kinds of spells are hardwired to do something exact. These”—she waved her arm in an arc—“are broad. Last night I had the wolves at our camp hunt for a few things, and then James took me out on the boat. The Everglades is certainly not like shopping at the local alchemy store, but I made it happen.”
“According to that sizzle, you certainly did,” I commented. “Are you almost done? We need to get a move on.”
“Yep,” she said. “These last two are almost done. With any luck, they’ll all work and you can give her some whoop-ass in a bag. Sorry, I didn’t bring any fancy vials, so plastic baggies will have to do. Once these cool, I’ll dump them in and we can go.”
Ray arrived five feet from us in a rush of air, his feet landing cleanly and without impact on the walkway. “I located Danny’s boat. It’s parked in the same spot you guys were in yesterday, but he’s nowhere to be found. We need to leave right now.” Ray’s voice was hard. Even though he likely wouldn’t admit it, he loved Danny and Naomi as much as the rest of us.
“The bokor let him in just like that?” I asked.
“That’s my guess. I didn’t see any of those snakes you talked about before, and this time the black magic around the area didn’t fuck with me as much. Maybe because I was just there. But I flew over the top to check it out and remember more details. The trees all look dead from above, gnarled and black. The memory is fading quickly, but that place is rotten from the inside out.”
“We’re almost done here,” I said. “Marcy just has to put the spells in bags.”
My father stood from his place at the table where he’d watched Marcy work. “When we go, we take all the airboats. The channel where you crossed over into her land has two entrances. There’s another channel farther west. We’ll split up and meet where Daniel parked his boat.”
It was the only viable option we had. The bokor would be expecting us, and she wasn’t about to let an angry army of werewolves invade her land. We all knew it but had no choice but to move forward and hope we could breach her wards.
I stood and Rourke laid a hand on my back and leaned around to my ear, rubbing his stubble along my neck. “She’s not going to play nice. If we get separated, remember the power inside you. Call on it individually if you need to. Each supernatural has a different strength.”
Marcy poured the spells into the bags, tying the ends with a makeshift closure made of wire, so they looked like little water balloons. “He’s right,” she said. “If you can find a way to concentrate anything Selene gave you and push it into the words attached to these spells”—she shook the bags—“like uttering a power word, the spell will become even stronger. Each of these spells has a keyword attached. I’ll give them to you on the boat.”
I nodded. I’d managed to separate the demon essence inside me in the Underworld and use it to my advantage. Since receiving the power of five, it’d been stored away in my body and I hadn’t focused on it. I’d left it to my wolf. Can we easily pull magic individually when needed? I asked my wolf. She snapped her jaw, showing us taking what we wanted. How do I pull just one kind? Magic erupted inside my mind, a kaleidoscope of colors—my wolf’s way of showing me that each magic had a different signature. Mine was gold. Eudoxia’s was white—and now pale orange, which must be her fae magic. Demon essence was black. Selene’s was pink. Rourke’s was slate green. It was the first time I realized I had my mate’s magic signature inside me.
“I have a piece of your magic,” I said to Rourke, a little surprised to find it there, even though I knew it was there.
He chuckled as he began to lead me toward the waiting boats. “That you do.”