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Authors: s m blooding

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BOOK: whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick
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Sam stopped beside the coffee table, four mugs of earthy colors in his hands. His blue eyes settled on her.

Paige rose and took two of the mugs from him, setting them on the table and going for the third. She hadn’t realized he’d come back into the room or she might have shut up sooner. She tried to ignore his look as she handed the mugs of steaming tea to the boys. Sighing, she flattened her lips and turned to Sam. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

His mouth opened, then closed as he frowned. He set his cup on the table that held the TV and sank slowly into his chair. “Tell me more of what he did. What is your gift?”

She swallowed and sat, glancing at Dexx.

He gestured toward Sam with his free hand and tipped his head to the side.

Okay. Well, what was the worst thing that could happen? “I’m a demon summoner. I summon demons when they’re needed and I send them back when they’re done. Their job is to prepare mankind for the acceptance of self-responsibility, something that is sorely lacking in our society. They’re called for people who are flying under the radar, legally speaking, or for those I can’t catch through the justice system.”

Silence filled the living room when Paige paused. Nothing creaked. Nothing groaned. She couldn’t even hear anyone breathe.

“When Sven kidnapped me last week, he carved a spell into my bones. An open door. Any demon can get in, use my gift, and summon at will. That happened seven days ago.”

Tony expelled a breath of awe.

It felt like a year ago and just yesterday at the same time. “We had a massive amount of demons gathered, but I was able to deal with them.”

“How?” Sam asked. “If every demon you encounter possesses you?”

Not something she ever wanted to relive again. She
had
to find a better solution. “Angels. That was wildly unpleasant. If I could figure out a way to handle my gift without them, that would be super. Otherwise, I’d rather not use my gift at all.”

“But you are a witch.”

“I am.” Her gifts were still too new. She may have been a witch since she was a teen, but those past five years of living without magick had been hugely impactful.

“And you know how to use the elements.”

“I do.” If Louisiana was any indication, she was very, very powerful when using the elements.

“How many do you control?”

Most witches could control one. Powerful ones could control two. Before her gifts had been warded away, she’d been able to control three. Now, though? “All of them.”

Sam sank into his recliner. “You there.” He gestured toward Dexx. “Grab that map tucked in the books. Just there. Look at where I’m pointing.”

Dexx spun like a dog chasing his tail. Books lined the walls, though there were few shelves. He finally located what Sam pointed at and removed a poorly folded piece of paper.

Sam took it and unfolded it.

Dexx and Tony crowded in.

From Paige’s viewpoint, she couldn’t see much. An old map. The folds were thickly creased. The whole thing looked like it was about to fall apart. Chunks of it were missing entirely around the browned edges.

“You will want to go there. That is the spot where Kevin spent most of his time.”

Tony nodded. “Great. We’ll head out right now.”

“You two will go. She will stay with me.”

Paige held up her hand, palm down. “If there’s a demon mark or signature, I’m the only one who will see it or be able to track it.”

“You haven’t met his nose.” Sam pointed to Tony.

“What are you two going to do?” Dexx asked with a guarded expression.

Sam licked his lips and reached for his cup. “I believe I know why your demon led you here.”

That seemed ominous. “Why?”

He sipped his tea. “We’ll soon see. We’ll soon see.”

 

 

Sam led the way out of the back of the cabin. From the front, it looked like the trees pressed up against the structure on all sides, but in fact, they were a good distance away.

Paige followed Sam down a dirt path up the side of the mountain to a bowl-like meadow, lugging the cumbersome lawn chairs. A fallen log lay across a small brook on the other side. Snow clung to the tips of the grass where the trees provided no shelter.

If it wasn’t for the cold, she might have believed it was really spring. Grey clouds overhead. Wet, dewy plants. Thick air.

Thick air? She knew what humidity was. She’d been in Colorado way too long if she was calling this muggy.

Sam gestured for her to set out the lawn chairs at the meadow’s edge.

She did as he requested, then stood there, waiting.

He sighed, his wide shoulders rising and falling heavily, then sat in the red chair.

Releasing a sigh of her own, she took the blue.

He watched her, his wrinkled lips pursed.

Alma had taught her witchcraft, so she knew better than to show her impatience. She breathed in calm, rubbing warmth back into her fingers. When was she going to get used to the fact that spring in Colorado didn’t mean warm?

“Make a fire.”

She didn’t see a fire pit anywhere. Wet grass. Wet dirt. Wet driftwood.

Nothing to work with.

He watched her through wizened eyes.

Before Louisiana, she wouldn’t have thought about making a fire in these conditions for a second. She was a witch. She might not have control of a living flame, but she could bring fire out of the earth.

But what about now with this spell cast into her bones? In Louisiana, she’d fought back after Sven had cast his spell into her. She’d used the elements.

But she’d been different than before. Maybe it was because of the angels using her. Maybe it was because her gifts had just been reopened. Maybe it was because she was more powerful.

But looking back on it now, that power terrified her. Did she have limits? Was that the reason Sven had cast the spell into her bones?

It made sense. He wanted her, and he wanted power.

Well, she could worry about it like a natter, or she could try this and see if she could do this without blowing up the whole damned mountain.

Any other witch—if she were able to control fire—would simply call up the element and light the wet wood on fire. After gathering that wood.

She wasn’t that kind of witch. She couldn’t produce a living flame and she couldn’t just set wet wood on fire. She needed dry dirt and dry kindling. She also had to borrow a flame.

Earth first. Not that she needed it, necessarily, but the power Earth brought her would help. She reached down deep into the part of herself that knew the first fleeting movements of a child. Love. Fear. Fluttering. Warmth.

Immense power rushed through her, pushing away her nervousness. The mud moved at her feet, skittering away, forming a pit. Rocks rolled from the confines of the wet dirt to make a small circle.

Her fingers, cold from the damp, reached for the water in the soil and the broken branches, drawing it upward. The water answered. Calm. Cleansing. Cool. Droplets rose into the air, pulled from the soil.

Air. Playful, restless, giggly air. Happy, carefree, cold and warm. It pushed the water droplets away from them, then returned to tug at Paige’s hair, begging her to play.

Time for fire.

Heat rose from the very center of the earth, roaring with life, fervor, and will. It clawed through the mantel like a raging beast fighting to be released.

Smoke hissed along the dried dirt and the few branches in the pit.

Paige opened her eyes fully and released a breath of soul fire. Life.

Blue flames shot from the earth, scorching her with heat.

Blessed Mother! Too much! Too much!

The fire receded and played along the stone circle between their feet.

Sam’s eyebrows remained high, his small eyes wide as he looked at it.

She resituated herself in her chair, uncomfortable. She had never been a strong witch, nor a powerful one. For all that she had been able to call on more elements than most, only one came easily. Fire. But now?

Was it the tear in her soul? Was her inner witch trying to solve the problem? Were her powers trying to fix the wrong?

She hadn’t even tapped the energy from the other side of the gate. Hell energy. What would he think if he saw that?

Finally, he blinked and raised his gaze to hers. “That was very impressive.”

Her smile was more of a wince.

“Can you call upon the spirit of any of these elements?”

She nodded.

“Is that how you summon them?”

“Yes.”

“What is the blue fire that came from you?”

“It’s not really fire. I used my soul to breathe life into the flame I pulled from the earth. I discovered when I was young that when
I
call fire as fire, it’s pretty disastrous.”

“How so?”

She swallowed and held her cold fingers to the blazing flames. The heat penetrated her jeans and boots. “I call on Earth’s fire.”

He went completely still for a moment. “Oh. I see.”

Most people could call on living flame to another location. That was pretty simple. Apparently. People like Mandy did use soul fire. She had to be careful how much she used. Otherwise, she’d exhaust herself. Alma created friction in order to summon flame. Paige didn’t know of anyone else who called on Earth’s fire.

“Well, I think we might be able to help you.”

What? Really? “How?”

“Spirit animals are very much like elements. They can be called upon in a similar manner. They answer in similar ways. The only difference is that spirit animals can physically modify the body.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with helping me with my gift.”

“Your gift, I believe, is very much like soul fire. You do not require anything from the outside in order to work its power.”

That, oddly, made a lot of sense, but she understood that when he said “soul fire,” he wasn’t just saying fire from soul.

Soul fire drew energy from the soul. Some believed the soul only had so much energy. Others thought the soul was like a battery that could be recharged. Either way, her gift pulled energy from her. She directed
her
energy on the gate to Hell in order to summon.

What would happen if she discharged too much of her soul at the Gate of Hell? What would happen to her?

“Okay.”

“And in order for you to defeat the demons, you needed the outside help of the angels.”

Where was he going with this? “Yes.”

“When you called on the elements, were you using your soul?”

She had to think about that. When she used her demon summoning gift, she reached inside and pulled something out. But when she called on the elements, she reached inside…and did what?

She whispered to them. She called to them in a language they understood; emotions, physical feelings, imagery, audio. “It’s different. I talk to them.”

He nodded, his gaze unfocused.

She leaned further forward, enjoying the warmth the fire offered.

Finally, he clicked his tongue. “If we can get you to use the elements in a similar way as the spirit animals, you might be able to create a guide of sorts. One that you control. One that you manage.”

“What? Spirit animals? I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You don’t know how our shifts work?”

She shook her head.

“We house spirit animals.”

“Huh?”

He took in a deep breath, his expression folded in pained patience. “When an alpha bites, the animal spirits decide whether the person is worthy or not. If they are not, the wound heals on its own, and nothing changes for the person bitten.”

That wasn’t like any shapeshifter lore she’d ever read.

“If the spirit deems the person worthy, then the wound is healed when the spirit enters the host.”

Sounded a lot like possession.

“Then, the choice begins. The person and the spirit get to know one another.”

Or a bad dating website.

“If the pairing is not mutual, the spirit leaves and the person goes on with his life.”

Interesting.

“Sometimes, though, it gets violent and the person dies.”

Well, that part of the legend was kind of true, at least.

“And, if it goes well, the spirit remains and the person becomes a shifter.”

“Wow. And you think
this
is going to help me?”

He shrugged. “It is the only path I know. I do not call upon elements. I do not use my soul to manipulate the world around me. But I do converse with spirit animals.”

“So, you think I need to be bitten?”

“No. I’m saying the same practices we use could help you.”

“How?”

“Because.” He gave her a frank look. “You speak to the elements in the same way I would speak to a spirit animal. If your demon wanted you to use the elements as protection, he would have directed you to the witches, and
they
would be disappearing instead of us.”

Shit. That nail hit home. Hard. “I really am sorry about that. I didn’t—” Didn’t what? Create Sven? Bring him? No. Obviously. But she had failed to capture him. She had let him escape in order to save Dexx’s life. If Sam
could
help— “That would be wonderful.”

He nodded, his eyes focused on the flame.

BOOK: whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick
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