Marked By Masks and Secrets (Everlasting Possession #1)

49

EVIE

I t made sense this conversation happened in the middle of the night, when the world was quiet, dark, and liminal.

I wasn’t sure what had allowed me to finally tell Kylo more about my childhood.

I imagined it had something to do with the fact that I was stupidly in love with him.

Or maybe I could blame the delirious haze of my first time being fed from and fucked into oblivion.

I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep after everything that we’d both said, but my depleted body won out over my racing mind.

The next time I woke up, it was unbearably bright. I managed to catch Kylo still asleep, and it struck me as if I’d caught sight of some mythical creature in the wild.

His breathtaking features appeared more innocent in their relaxed state. Though, because Kylo was Kylo, he wasn’t fully at ease. His brows were slightly scrunched, his lips curving down as he breathed deeply.

I kept perfectly still on my side, my eyes widening as one of his shadows escaped him even in his sleep to crawl over my body in a wisp of smoke.

He was way too beautiful. Did he know how beautiful he was? Maybe it was best he remained unaware.

When his eyes sprung open, I jumped.

He blinked once before slowly grinning. “Your behavior is appalling, angel. Don’t you know how creepy and violating it is to watch someone sleep?”

I spent the next few days in a gooey, love-filled haze. I would’ve been disgusted with myself if being so in love hadn’t robbed me of that ability.

Instead, I loved Kylo unabashedly. And maybe it was slightly childish, but I’d never had a first love—so maybe my silly mortal heart needed to get all of this pining out of its system.

In my spell room, I decided to take matters into my own hands with the Whitfields. I was going to place a binding spell on them to keep their mouths shut about me. I’d never done a working like this, as I typically avoided any baneful magick. But surely a silencing hex was more than deserved, merely an act of self-defense like any protection spell.

Hekate helped me every step of the way. It was the chaos witch’s book about working with her that had given me the idea in the first place. I welcomed her into my space as I sat in front of my altar, growing more comfortable with her particular brand of darkness. Perhaps in the same way I’d grown accustomed to Kylo’s.

How you will learn to love your own , a voice echoed in my mind.

I was in a semi-trance state, open to more influences from the ethereal dimension.

“I’m not ready for that yet,” I whispered.

Hmm.

The sarcasm was delightfully ominous. I tried to brush off the heaviness in my chest, that familiar lump in my throat. The clog over my power, the hardened mass of fear that had silenced my voice.

“Surely it’s better,” I said to no one in particular. “I’ve grown so much recently. I opened up to Kylo about what happened. I met with another chaos witch. Surely you can see that I’m doing the work. Healing, opening myself up to love, all that good stuff…”

Hmm, the disembodied, condescending voice said again.

I rubbed my throat, feeling more and more unsettled.

Hekate’s stern, protective, caring energy flooded the space, easing the discomfort. It was maternal, or perhaps grandmotherly. She was a protector of mortals, of the downtrodden. She said she existed in many worlds, appearing to those who needed her.

I fell deeper into a trance, so I could ask questions about how best to proceed and the necessary ingredients.

After cleansing all materials and warding your space, make your petition for that which you aim to protect. Fold four times, toward you, a voice instructed.

All typical witch protocol so far. In the room, a foggy white mist rolled through the space, letting me know that I was between worlds. One foot in the ethereal, one in the physical.

Seal the petition in a jar with lavender, black salt, smoky quartz fragments, mugwort, and rosemary. Use black candle wax for all sealing. Glue the smaller jar inside a larger jar. In the larger jar, fill with vinegar. Add a few drops of your own blood. Totems of those who seek to cause you harm.

Unease churned in my gut. The first jar sounded like magick I was accustomed to—magick that was contained to only me, without affecting anyone else. I didn’t want to use blood in my spells. I’d been powerful enough without it so far.

Then again, I’d never needed something this desperately. And if it meant Idris was safe, I’d do just about anything.

They came onto your land and all but threatened your life, a different voice said. If they sell you out, you will never be safe again.

Then another spoke, a presence I didn’t recognize.

You refuse to use the protection you were born with. If I were you, I would do far worse. I would add broken glass and rusty nails. I would make a second petition to ensure that anyone who dared harm you would incur the punishment they deserve.

“No,” I said sternly. “Thank you for your guidance. I would like to stick with the original intent. To freeze their energy against me and to silence them.”

The original guiding voice continued. Seal the larger jar with black wax. Place in a freezer. This entire process must be done on the next new moon.

“The next new moon?” I asked incredulously. The last one was two days ago. “That’s… that’s in nearly four weeks.”

The snarkier, more bloodthirsty spirit’s voice spoke again. You have other options besides fate-weaving. You choose your path.

“To threaten them? To harm them ? To do what they’re falsely accusing me of?”

The new, testy spirit refused to answer.

Fear coursed through my veins. I didn’t have a coven to call on for help, witches with specialties that might work more immediately—nor the power gleaned from numbers. As a solo practitioner, I had to work with the energies and forces I’d built.

And before now, I’d never learned or dabbled with prickly spirits and baneful wards.

I was out of my element, a novice all over again. Worse, I felt slighted. I was being punished for refusing to use the poison in my veins, for daring to use gentler, less violent methods of protection.

“Hekate,” I prayed. “Please protect me until I can do this spell.” I glanced around the room, the hazy outlines of beings and orbs of light. “Thank you everyone for your guidance, blessings, and wisdom. Let there be harmony between all of us for all of our days.”

In the mist, I saw a vision of Princeton, who I hadn’t seen since our first meeting. Either the spirits were pushing me toward him, or he was sending me a message himself. I wouldn’t put that past him.

I had the sudden urge to reach for my current favorite tarot deck as I re-entered the physical dimension.

One card.

I pulled.

Staring up at me was The Tower.

My heart sunk, my hands trembling. I studied the imagery. A strike of lightning pierced the top of the stone tower—clearing away the golden crown that had rested there. Fire licked up the walls, and two men leaped from the windows, arms outstretched as they fell to the earth.

The meaning swept through me. I fought the urge to hurl the card across the fucking room.

The destruction of that which was built on a faulty foundation. Chaos. Turmoil. Total and complete dissolution. Clearing of the old to make way for the new.

Revolution. A change that is inevitable.

Death. Catastrophe.

Liberation.