Aunt Drusilla’s chest moves, her breathing easy. Her face looks peaceful, serene, her hair in curlers, as she always sleeps. Her cheeks are pink with health, and she looks happy, strangely enough.
“She’s breathing,” Reggie chokes out, tears rolling down her face. Dru’s hand is clenched tight in her grasp. “But I can’t get her to wake. Should we call an ambulance?”
I touch my aunt’s neck, feeling for her pulse. It’s there, beating strongly under her papery, delicate skin. An ambulance or a healing potion? I get to my feet—and my skin prickles with awareness. Stale magic hangs in the air. Quick as I can, I pull out a knife and slash through my palm, letting my blood splatter on the floor as I hold my fist out. Reggie squeals a protest, but I ignore her. Closing my eyes, I call out to any of the gods that might be listening.
“Show me what this is,” I murmur. “Please.” I put all the emotion and feeling I have inside me into that one word, that single plea.
“Don’t we need spell components?” Reggie murmurs at my side. “You can’t just cut your hand open and expect the gods to answer, can you?”
Maybe most can’t, but the blood of my ancestors, the “ambrosia” that gives us our magic, flows heavy in my veins. I’ve had five hundred years to hone my power. I squeeze my fist tighter, making the wound hurt, letting anyone that might be listening know that I mean business. All I need is a hint, a sign—
On the bed, Dru snores loudly.
Reggie gasps, her hand touching my clothing. “Ben—”
“Thank you,” I say quietly before I open my eyes. I know without looking that my request has been answered, and I make a mental note to do a large offering of thanks once things have calmed down. Once my aunt is awake and healthy. I lower my fist and look over at Reggie, and I can feel the magic in the room, like the heaviness of the weather before a storm.
Wordless, Reggie points at my aunt.
Dru has turned her head to the side, exposing more of her neck. A word is written there in charcoal, near her collarbone.
SOPOR
“Sleep,” I murmur. “Someone’s cursed her.”
“What the fuck?” Reggie weeps, swiping at her tears with the backs of her hands. “Someone got into the house? While we were sleeping?”
I brush the word off my aunt’s neck to see if that will break the curse, but it doesn’t. That would be far too easy. “Not necessarily. Some curses can be cast from a distance. A sleep curse is an ancient one. You’ve read the fairy tales, yes? Simple, but effective.” I tuck the blankets under Aunt Dru’s chin, as if I can somehow make her comfortable. For some reason, this makes me less frantic than a heart attack or a stroke. I don’t know how to deal with those. But curses and magic? Those are a warlock’s repertoire. I can fix this. “It’s going to be all right, Reggie.”
“You’re bleeding all over the blankets,” she tells me accusingly, then sniffs. “You’re not going to be much help to anyone if you bleed out from a stupid cut in your hand.”
“I’m not going to bleed out.” Exasperated, I look over at her. I’m about to make a cutting comment, but the look on her face stops me. Reggie’s expression is devastated. I know she’s attached to my aunt but she also looks incredibly fragile, and I remember how frightened she was last night. That she was going to end up cursed. Now Aunt Dru can’t protect her. “You can’t leave now, Reggie.”
She gives me a horrified look. “Of course I’m not going to leave, you idiot. Dru needs help—”
“No, you don’t understand.” I shake my head, resisting the urge to touch her, because blood and . . . well, because I’m a murderer in her eyes. “Remember last night when I said you need to stay close by me? I mean it. Don’t leave the room unless I know where you are. If you’re with me at all times, I can protect you.”
A wariness enters her eyes. “How? If someone can cast on me from afar, how can you possibly protect me?”
“Obfuscation spells.” It’s not the best answer, but it’s an immediate one. “No one can curse you if they can’t find you. They have to be able to locate you, even if it’s just with a scrying spell, to be able to attach the curse to you. I can obfuscate my general area, but it’ll require help from you.”
“You mean you need me to be your battery,” Reggie states bluntly.
“Partly,” I agree. “But we’ll also have to stay in the same room at all times. No more than a few feet apart.”
Her nostrils flare, and her back stiffens ever so slightly. I can see her considering my offer, can see the hesitation and worry in her eyes that wasn’t there last night. Now that I’m a murderer in her eyes, I’m suddenly terrifying. I pull out my sacrificial knife again and brandish it over my throbbing, blood-covered palm. “I will make a blood promise to you that you’re safe with me.”
“Oh my god, you are so dramatic.” Reggie grabs my wrist before I can cut. “What am I supposed to do with you if your hand looks like sushi?” She frowns, staring down at where she grabbed my wrist. “I know you won’t hurt me, okay? I trust you, even though it’s incredibly stupid for me to say that.”
I shake my head. “I might have done bad things in my past, Reggie, but that doesn’t mean I’d harm you. Ever. I’d sooner cut off my own hand.”
“Obviously.” She gives me a faint smile. It fades quickly as she looks over at Dru. “I just . . . I trust you, okay? Please don’t betray that trust.”
I nod, my throat thick. For some reason, having her trust means a lot to me.
“But I also need to establish boundaries,” Reggie continues. “We’re not—the kissing. We’re not doing that again.” She grows flustered. “This is just about saving Dru, all right? So if I have to stay in the same room as you and wear your familiar bracelet, I will. But it’s only for Dru.”
“I understand.” And I’ll take whatever I can get, because I’m pathetic when it comes to Reggie.
Reggie looks up at me, her dark eyes full of worry and trust. “So how do we do this? Where do we start?”
I think for a moment, though it’s difficult to do. My hand throbs, blood still dripping on the carpet. Aunt Dru snores. And Reggie . . . she stands so close to me that it’s distracting. Her fingers are still on my wrist. “I need components.”
To my surprise, her expression turns determined. “I know just the person.”
24
REGGIE
Oh em gee,” Penny hiss-whispers as she pulls me aside a few hours later. “You told me you were bringing someone, but I didn’t realize it would be that someone!” She clutches the sleeve of my hoodie even as she looks over at Ben Magnus, who’s studying the CBD products on the near-empty shelving at the front of the store.
“It is absolutely a long story, and I will give it to you, but we need your help.” I give her a tight smile. “It’s kind of an emergency, actually.”
Her eyes widen. “I am so good in an emergency. Tell me what you need!”
I squeeze Penny’s hand, because I know she is. Penny is nothing if not enthusiastic and knows a lot about familiars and witchcraft, and she’s my friend. We need all the help we can get. Quickly, I brief Penny on everything that’s happened in the last few hours—Dru’s Sleeping Beauty curse, the additional curses on Lisa and all the familiars, and that Ben and I are now working together. I skip the part where I practically shoved myself in his face, asking for a kiss, because, well, it feels weird.
I keep waiting for the loathing for Ben to kick in, and it hasn’t happened. He’s always so protective. Kind. Him being a murderer doesn’t fit, but then again, nice-seeming people can also be serial killers, so maybe I can’t trust my instincts. Because my stupid instincts are to stare at his mouth and wonder about that kiss, and that makes me think there’s something wrong with my head.