Chapter Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
“Antoine had a visitor last night,” Eve said nonchalantly as she flipped open the tome on Cally’s bed.
“Did he?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say she was a vampire, and from Antoine’s reactions, a fucking crazy one.”
“Belle was here?” Cally glanced involuntarily toward his room where he rested.
“Who’s Belle?”
“Antoine’s sire.”
Eve’s hand froze halfway to her face. “Shit, no way! She looked our age. No more than twenty-five.”
“Try five hundred and twenty-five.”
“Really?”
Cally spread her hands. “No idea, but she’s older and more powerful than Antoine. He’s…” She lowered her voice. “…kinda scared of her.”
“I’m not surprised. That much power in a package as psycho as that?” She gave a mock-shudder.
“We have about four hours before Antoine will wake up,” Cally reminded her. “And five days before I’m supposed to be able to cast a spell I don’t even know.”
“Right, right. Focusing.” Eve sat up on the bed and fixed her with a serious look. “So I was up late last night reading, and I think I might have a plan.”
“Plans are good.”
“We can’t know if the immobilization spell is working without testing it on someone, and you won’t let us use Antoine as a guinea pig—”
“—Obviously.”
“Right.” Eve rolled her eyes in clear disapproval. “So what we need is a spell that will allow you to practice.”
“Making crystals shine isn’t going to cut it.”
“Well, no. I agree. But we have others.” Eve tapped the tome with one finger.
Cally rolled over and pulled the leather-bound volume closer.
“What is in this book? Should I read it?” The pages were thick, and there were fewer of them than she’d expected.
Each was covered in the spidery handwriting where ‘magick’ was spelled with a ‘k,’ and some letters were squished together and joined with flourishes.
Eve had stuck colored tabs to most of the pages, her own notes scrawled in tiny writing.
“You can if you want, but the problem is that as an instruction manual, it’s only half-complete.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there’s six spells in here, right?
But three of them reference things not explained.
” She turned back a few pages, where her notes were dense.
“This one, for example. It references ‘invocation IX’—no idea what that is—and ‘the universal language,’ which I think means Latin, but could reference Gaeilge or Klingon for all I know.” She flicked over two pages.
“This is the immobilization spell. It references… look, here. ‘The Circle must be bound to the Cardinal set aright.’” She waved helplessly at the text.
“That could mean about a hundred different things.”
“What’s the ‘Cardinal’?”
“Great question.” Eve pointed to a cluster of notes sticking out from the margin.
“Cardinal directions—north, south, east, west. The cardinal virtues—prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. That’ll be a stretch for you.
” She smirked. “Or the rank of cardinal. One below the pope. Doesn’t really fit the vibe.
Last but not least, ‘cardinal’ used to mean ‘most important’. ”
“So which is it?”
“That’s the point, babe.”
Cally stared at her. “We are so fucked.”
“Well, I do have an idea.” Eve turned to another page. “This one isn’t very complex, and it doesn’t do anything spectacular, but it uses the same cardinal-circle thingy, so if we can figure it out, maybe it’ll help us unlock the other one.”
“What does it do?”
“Finds your car keys.”
“Seriously? First, I don’t have a car, and second, I’m pretty sure whoever wrote this book by candlelight in a medieval Order basement didn’t have a car either.”
“Sweetheart,” Eve said patiently, “it’s a localized finding spell. So my leading theory is that the ‘cardinal’ reference is the compass points. We ‘bind the circle’ and voilà, as Antoine would say.”
“Okay, that makes sense. But why would the immobilization spell use a finding mechanic? We already know who we’re immobilizing, right?”
“At that point, I leave the area of educated speculation and fall back on pure guesswork. Maybe it needs to be aligned to the vamp’s position? Or it uses spatial awareness to keep him in one location?” Eve shrugged. “Like I said, we only have half the instructions.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Cally said with a sigh. “We don’t have a coven. Five witches, right? We only have me. How are we ever supposed to…” She stopped as Eve grinned at her. “What?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to raise that objection. Do you remember what Mr. Alexander said at dinner?”
“That he was an intrusive asshole and used his power to blackmail and threaten?”
“Well, yes. But more specifically. I said we needed a coven and asked him if he had more witches, remember?”
“Uh, vaguely? So what, you’re suggesting we use Order witches?”
“God, no.” Her grin widened. “But what did he say?”
“Fuck if I know. You’re the one with the massive brain and the photographic memory.”
“More like phonographic—”
“—Whatever—”
“—but what he said was”—she paused, then spoke in a high, nasal voice that sounded nothing like Mr. Alexander—“‘We have two witches in the Order, but they are both in Europe, and already the demands on their time are excessive.’”
Cally blinked. “Was that word-for-word?”
“I guess?”
“You total freak. Okay, so we need five, we only have two more anyway, they’d never join us because they work for the Order, and they’re somewhere in Europe. I don’t see your point, unless it’s that we’re screwed.”
“The point, my coven-obsessed friend, is why would the demands on their time be ‘excessive’ if they can’t do a damn thing without a coven?”
“Huh,” Cally said. “That is a point.”
“And you did the obsidian-nova thing all by yourself.”
“True.” Cally couldn’t help thinking they were groping in the dark, but she forced a smile. “All right, let’s give it a go.”
“Great!” Eve sprang up from the bed, rummaging in a bag she’d brought from her room.
“See, the other thing about this spell is that it references a circle. At first, I thought like you—that it meant the coven forms a circle. But then I figured, if we don’t need a coven…
” She straightened, holding up a pot of paint. “We just need a circle!”
“I think you’re insane.”
“Great! You read the instructions while I piss Marcel off by drawing all over his carpet.”
“This is my room…”
“Yes, and?”
“…Nothing.” Cally pulled the book around, deciphering the text on the page:
‘To recover what is lost: the Circle must be bound to the Cardinal set aright. Place Obsidian within the midst, and mark it with the Blood of the Source. When the Seal is made, lend Breath of the Source and speak the Invocation until the sought be made known within the Heart of the Source.’
“Wow. That’s vague. Do you have obsidian?”
Eve held up a black lump without looking, and waggled it in the air.
“Where did you get that?”
She turned, looking guilty. “I… er… went home for it while you guys were out last night.”
Cally stared at her. “You went back to your place? What if Darian had been there?”
“I figured he wouldn’t be focusing on me. Not all this time. He’s obsessed with you, right? Besides, I needed clothes, my laptop…” She resumed rummaging in her bag, muttering, “Turned off the heat.”
“Oh babe, I’m so sorry.”
Eve shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Brave new world of vampires and witches, right?”
“Right,” Cally said firmly. It was the spur she needed to get this spell learned—for Eve, if for nothing else.
“Blood of the Source… so I’m the Source.
My blood, my words, and then… my heart. Which I figure means I’ll get some hint of where the car keys are.
” She paused, considering. “Seems straightforward enough.”
“Great,” Eve said as she busied herself redecorating Marcel’s décor. “I’ll finish this, you figure out the Gaeilge pronunciation.”
Cally sighed. Eve’s lessons the day before had not gone well. She began the laborious process of googling the Irish text the spell demanded, writing it phonetically to give herself the best chance.
The room fell quiet as they both attended to their tasks, and Eve finished first. “There. We’re good so long as Marcel doesn’t come in here.”
She’d drawn a careful circle on the carpet and set four thick candles at the quarters.
“How do you know that’s the setup?” Cally asked.
“I don’t,” Eve said breezily. “Try it and see, right? How are you getting on?”
“Almost finished. FAW-nyeh DREE-ukh-ta… I think.” She pointed to the page. “These last three I haven’t done.”
“TOH-ur,” Eve said. “I don’t know the ‘ch’ sound. You do the last one.” She pulled her phone out and started typing.
“Ah-RAYR, maybe?” Cally said, a moment later.
“Crap, this ‘chugam’ is tough. It’s like half-German with the ‘ch’ sound. Apparently it’s the Scottish ‘loch’ or the German ‘Bach’.” She made the sound in her throat a few times.
“Hairball?” Cally asked.
“Laugh it up, babe. You’re the one chanting it.” She turned her screen so Cally could see what she’d typed.
“Cough-gum?”
“Closest I can get.”
“Okay then.” Cally wrote it down on her page, then showed Eve:
Fáinne draíochta, soiléir go léir,
FAW-nyeh DREE-ukh-ta, suh-LAIR guh LAIR
Faigh an caillteanach, tabhair chugam aréir.
Fwee un KYLE-chuh-nukh, TOH-ur cough-gum ah-RAYR
“Looks good.”
“What does it mean?”
“Uh, roughly, ‘ring of magic, clear to see, find the lost one and bring it to me.’ You learn it, I’ll get coffees.”
Cally focused on the page, muttering to herself, and Eve seemed to be back before she was even halfway through. “Thanks,” she said, accepting a cup.
“How’s it going?”
“This stuff sounds Elvish. I think I’m ready to flirt with Legolas.”
Eve grinned, then leaned past her to snap a picture with her phone. “I’ll sit over here, staring at your ass… I mean, learning it myself.”
“Stare away,” Cally said, and went back to studying the text.
The time passed in silence, and she tried to concentrate, knowing what was at stake. This wasn’t even the spell the Order wanted, let alone all the ways this might not work. A long hill to climb, with only five days.
What would happen if she turned up on Friday morning and couldn’t deliver? How would Darian react?
Hell, the Order were so secretive, they might decide she was a liability. Eve too, for that matter.
Cally checked on her friend. Eve was focused on her phone, but sensed her gaze and looked up with a smile. Cally turned back to her text, her heart flipping. She loved Eve so much—just not in the way she wanted. If the Order touched a single hair on her head… she’d burn them down.
I have to make sure that doesn’t happen.
“Promise me you won’t go home again,” Cally said.
“I can’t live here forever, babe.”
“You can. I spoke to Antoine. He’s happy for you to—”
“Sweetheart,” Eve said softly, “I can’t. I’m really, really happy for you and Antoine. But I’m sorry, I can’t stay here forever, watching the two of…” She swallowed hard.
“I’m so sorry.” Cally blinked back tears that threatened to spill. “I’ve ruined your life. I’ve taken away everything that matters to you. And now I’m—”
“No, no. We’ve been over this. I’m here by choice, remember? It’s vampires and witch magic that has brought us to this point, remember? It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Eve smiled gently. “Always have, always will.”
“You’re going to make me cry.”
“Does crying mean hugs?”
“Hell, yes.”
Cally pushed herself up off the bed, but Eve was out of her chair faster. They met at the edge of the bed, Cally still seated, and Eve was short enough to cradle her head against her chest. “We’ll get through this together,” she whispered.
“Promise?” Cally asked.
“Affirmative. Ten-four. Hundred percent, babe.”
“I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Eve kissed the top of her head. “I should probably negotiate for sexual favors, but… the reality wouldn’t live up to what you do in my head each night.”
“You are a kinky, twisted, and slightly evil friend, do you know that?”
“I wasn’t before all the vampires.”
“Yeah. You really were.”
They grinned at each other.
“Okay,” Cally said. “Let’s give this spell a go.”
“Great.” Eve released her, all business, and went to light the candles. “You saw the bit in the instructions where the Source has to be naked, right?”
“I won’t deign to give that a response.”
Eve tutted. “No fun. So, come and sit in the middle. I’m going to hide…” She swiped Cally’s phone off the bed. “Close your eyes so you can’t peek.”
Cally stepped carefully over the circle Eve had painted, and sat in the center, eyes closed. “I feel ridiculous.”
“Okay, I’ve hidden it,” Eve said after a moment. “Here’s the obsidian.” She passed it over. “And a pin.” It came in a plastic bag, in true Eve form, and Cally knew it would be sterile. Ironic, when I’m immune to infection.
Eve curled up in her chair. “Don’t mind the audience.”
“Don’t expect anything dramatic.” Cally pricked her finger, wiped it on the obsidian, then focused. “Fáinne draíochta, soiléir go léir, faigh an caillteanach, tabhair chugam aréir.”
Nothing. Just as she’d expected. She shot Eve a hopeless look.
“First time out. Have faith, girlie. Try it with your eyes closed?”