“I think I’ve mastered it.” She crossed her arms. “Tell me you’re taking Ember with you this time, or Chrys at least. Someone who can fight.”
I smiled softly and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I plan to negotiate, not fight.”
“Cinder…”
“You know I can hold my own if it comes down to that.” I pressed my lips together, holding her gaze until she sighed heavily.
“Fine. Give me fifteen minutes to clean this mess and get set up.” She turned to the sink and scrubbed the pan.
“Thank you, Ash. You’re the best.”
She let out a dry laugh and shook her head, and I returned to my bedroom, where Chrys still sat on my bed.
“You don’t have to do this alone.” She squeezed her hands into fists. “The whole team should be helping to find your parents.”
She was right. They should be helping, and if I wasn’t certain my parents were in Hell because they’d summoned a demon, I’d have the entire coven searching every hidey hole and dark witch’s lair within three hundred miles.
But I was certain, and it was imperative that no one else found out.
“I need to do this alone. Please let me.” I looked into her eyes, asking her to let her friend leap head-first into a danger the rest of the coven could never fathom. “If it doesn’t pan out, I’ll loop you in on the next one.”
She rose, her gaze saying she wasn’t convinced. “Cinder…”
“Hingham.” I rested my hand on her back, gently pushing her toward the door. “Hingham is the general vicinity of my lead. Now, please go have fun with Patrice and your bass player. Let go of your worries for a little while.”
She pursed her lips. “Fine. But if you die, I’m hiring a necromancer to bring you back to life so I can kill you myself.”
I laughed. “I would expect nothing less.”
“Call me if you need backup.” She paced down the hall, and I waited until the door clicked shut to take the journal with my letter from my nightstand drawer.
I lifted my mattress and slipped it and Ash’s favorite sigil book beneath. Two bottled spells, which I’d mixed while Ash was at the store, sat in my drawer, and I uncorked the one filled with purple powder.
I set my intention and sprinkled it over the mattress. “Heavy weight, keep this object in place. Don’t lift or move until my spell is removed.”
Magic gathered in the core of my being, tightening my muscles until I sent it outward, onto the bed. I gave the mattress a push, but it didn’t budge. I couldn’t lift it either. Good. Now no one would accidentally come across what I’d hidden beneath.
Next up was the most powerful cloaking spell I had ever cast. Should I not return, I couldn’t chance Ember or another coven member using a spell to find clues about what happened. I could easily see my middle sister taking matters into her own hands and going after the demons herself. With her hot temper, she’d either vanquish them before they could lift the curse or she’d piss them off and get herself killed. I couldn’t let that happen.
If my plan didn’t work, Ember would become High Priestess and Ash would need to know what she was cursed to become. They’d need each other for balance. Ash could temper Ember’s impulsiveness long enough to complete the quest. She’d have to.
“The stronger the magic, the more likely you’ll be the only one who can break it, little sis. This is for you.” I took a deep breath and uncorked the next potion. “My shroud is strong and stings like bees. Cloak this room from all who seek, except for Ash and her magical sleuth. Only she can discover the truth.”
My magic built, fire coursing through my veins as the spell swirled within my psyche. I let it grow until nausea churned in my gut and the hoagie I’d had for lunch threatened to make a reappearance. My head throbbed, pressure expanding in my skull, making it feel like it was about to crack open.
“As I will it, so mote it be.” I flung the powdered potion into the air, and magical gray smoke billowed above me, stretching downward to engulf my entire bedroom. All the air in my lungs came out in a rush, and I bent, resting my hands on my knees and dragging in a breath.
“Holy mother of magic.” The spell was stronger than I’d thought it would be, but that’s what I got for dabbling in magic so gray that it bordered on dark. Hopefully Ash would look for the sigil book the human way and wouldn’t try too hard to remove the cloak. This spell would fight back.
I raked in another breath and straightened. It would take at least an hour to recover from casting a spell that strong. Thankfully, Hingham was a ninety-minute drive from Salem. I would be good as new by the time I reached Discord’s skull, and thank the goddess for that. I doubted Isabel, the witch who cursed my bloodline, would make it easy to acquire.
With my plan in place, I rummaged through my sock drawer and found Mom’s sachet of powder for the magic-binding spell. I finished packing and slung my backpack over my shoulder before heading to the kitchen, where I poured tequila into two glasses and dumped the powder into one.
Swirling the glass to mix it, I headed downstairs and found Ash in her sigil studio, pouring magical ink into a well. She set her tattoo machine on the table next to her other supplies and spun around to face me.
“Let me grab—” She lowered her brow as her gaze locked on the glasses. “Tell me you’re not drinking before you head out on a magical quest.”
“We both are.” I offered her the tainted glass. “Do a shot of liquid courage with me. This one could be a doozy.”
