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With the blinds drawn in my workroom, I sat at the worktable and used my telekinesis to summon the hidden grimoire. It appeared moments later. Even though I’d touched the book previously, my instincts warned against that now. Instead, I concentrated on turning the pages hands-free.
The aged paper flipped to the page with the skull and crossbones. I braced myself and read the spell.
Close your eyes, free your arms. Turn thrice in a circle. Spit at the feet of thine enemy or upon that thing which you wish to enchant. The curse will last 30 days. BEWARE. If the target of your curse is not deserving, the curse will reverse itself upon you. It fights on your behalf for justice to provide safety but it is not meant to be misused in any way.
The warning was clear—be darn sure before you attempt to cast the spell. Message received.
The next page was the spell to guide Georgia’s dreams—or whoever the intended person was.
The following pages had drawings of keys, pentagrams, starbursts. Fire, and a spell to guard against fire.
I squeezed my eyes against the memory pushing its way forward once more, my muscles knotted with panic. I rose to my feet, coughing, gasping for breath until the restored workroom came into focus around me. No fire. No witch standing outside the windows. I flexed my hands, a tingle recalling the energy I’d sent forth to break the windows that day. Was I expected to add to the page? The energy I’d harnessed to escape Narcy’s spell?
Instead, I dropped onto the stool and concentrated on breathing.
The book will call on you as you need it. Wasn’t that the way all the grimoires worked?
“Go back,” I told the book, not wanting to read any more.
Instead, the book flipped to the spell to guide her dreams.
“I don’t know if I can,” I whispered under my breath. “Not tonight.”
The book remained stubbornly on the worktable, open to the page.
Hands trembling, I closed the book, closed my eyes and let the clouds envelop me as I mouthed the incantation.
Little arms wrapped tightly around my neck, along with the sock monkey she clutched in her fist. “Aunt Bwinn.”
“I’m here, baby.”
“I want my momma.”
“She’ll be with you again soon,” I said, hoping it was true. LeAnne was close to her due date. Hadn’t Jeannine told me the baby was due in December? That was still a month away. “Your daddy’s here, isn’t he?”
Georgia nodded and rubbed little fists in her eyes.
“He’ll take good care of you until Mommy comes home.”
“I don’t like the other lady.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What other lady?”
She clutched the sock monkey close. “My monkey. I don’t like her playing with him.”
A babysitter? Georgia didn’t appear to be neglected, and yet I understood unwanted attention from people I didn’t trust. “Don’t let her scare you,” I said, smoothing Georgia’s hair. “You play with your monkey and pretend she isn’t there.” How could I tell a three-year-old to control her temper? “Think about how happy you’ll be when Mommy comes home and when you have a new baby sister to play with.”
Georgia laid back, smiled, and closed her eyes. “I love you, Aunt Bwinn.”
“I love you, too, Georgia. Anytime you need me, all you have to do is think about me, okay?”
She nodded, tucked her thumb in her mouth and drifted to sleep.
The clouds came to transport me home.
My eyes were filled with tears when I opened them, back in my workroom. As I wiped them dry, Kyle came into focus seated across from me.
“Where were you just now?” he asked.
“Right here, as far as I know.”
“I tried talking to you, but you didn’t hear me. Or did you?”
“No.” I sighed. “How long have you been there?”
“About five minutes. I almost called an ambulance, except your breathing seemed normal. Like you’d fallen asleep.”
I nodded. “I was dreaming.” I surveyed the worktable. The grimoire was gone.
“You were dreaming the other night, too. I should have gotten up with you. Do you want to talk about it?”
“That was different.”
Kyle remained on his stool, watching me closely. “You know I’m here for you.”
“The other night, I dreamt about the fire.” I stopped to gather a deep breath. “I still have nightmares.”
“You should see someone about those. Talk them through.” He studied me a moment longer. “And this time?”
How could I explain? I took another deep breath. “I suppose this one wasn’t REM sleep.”
“I’m not sure what that means. Narcolepsy?”
Even if he did understand, even if he did accept my gifts, I didn’t feel comfortable talking about them. “It means I’m not sleeping well.”
He checked his phone. “Let’s go to bed. It’s after ten.”
I shook off the last of the clouds that lingered. “Probably should.”
“Wake me if you have another nightmare. Maybe I can help.”
I slipped off my stool and reached for his hand. “It helps knowing you’re here.”
We wandered toward the staircase opposite the workroom door. I stopped and glanced toward the kitchen. “Hang on. I need a drink of water before I go up.”
“Want me to get it for you?”
I leaned in and kissed him. “You’re sweet, but I’ve got it.” I dropped his hand and crossed the great room while he mounted the steps.
I took a glass from the kitchen cupboard and filled it with water from the refrigerator, then took a long drink. As I set the cup in the sink, I glanced out the window. An orange glow in Kyle’s house caught my attention.
“Kyle!”