Page 124 of Demon's Bluff

Maybe I was, but that wasn’t the point. “Listen. To. Me,” I said, every word a hammer. “You use spells and charms that others can’t. And then call yourself more skilled? I don’t think so. You have put everyone at the bottom of a hill while you stand at the top and say you’re better. Try working with what we have before labeling yourself an elite.”

Elyse’s air of self-righteousness faltered, then returned.

“You know what?” I said, tired of it. “Fine. Try it.” I held the charm out to her on the palm of my hand. “Knock yourself out. If you break it, I’m not waiting for you. You take the long way home with Kisten.”

“No.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I want to see if you can really do it.”

I closed my fingers about the amulet and drew it close. “Good choice, but if I thought for an instant that you have the skill to duplicate this, I wouldn’t let you even watch. The coven didn’t lose this ability. They never had it, and they never will.” Anger flickered over her as I pushed the aura from my hand again, and a warning of achy pinpricks flooded my arm. “You don’t have a delicate enough touch. It’s a demon thing,” I added, just to piss her off.

Ignoring her huff of disbelief, I shifted my aura to red again, sending the lightest trace down my arm, so light it felt like a butterfly kiss. Exhaling, I allowed it to find my palm, rising to envelop the waiting charm, sending the old metal vibrating with a chime so faint it was almost not there.This,I thought,might work, and I shifted my aura to orange.

A second chime joined the first, only a rare sliver of red lingering against the sunset-colored haze in my hand. Already I knew it was better, and my head ached from the pressure of holding the full flood of my aura back.

Yellow was next, clear like sunlight as it washed through the light haze. The orange vanished under the living glow as a third tone melded to the others. A faint itch of building power crawled down my spine, aching for me to free it.

I quickly shifted my aura to a healthy green, startled when the resonating metal pulled it in more than the others, worrying me that I might not have left enough space. The tone became richer, deeper. Pinpricks stabbed at my hand, and I tensed, my heart aching with someone else’s longing to see living fields. It was the maker of the amulet, and my brow furrowed as the definition between me and whoever had twisted the amulet began to blur. There were no cracks in the amulet, no threat of the harsh, discordant tone that I’d heard before, each sliver of aura slipping in as if it belonged.

Blue,I thought, desperate to have this done, and pinpricks painfully stung my arm. My aura resonance shifted, cramping my fingers as another tone melded with the rest, aching through me with the feel of angel wingsbeating upon the air. It was a good ache, a thunderous ache. I blinked, trying to focus as the amulet found a darker hue.

I was almost done, and I struggled to see past the muffling haze. I felt myself breathe, power cramping my lungs as I shifted my aura to ultraviolet. Elyse gasped. It was as if living smut had snaked down my arm, pooling under the glowing amulet but refusing to blend. Softly, surely, a whisper of it reached up to the metal as an identical haze stretched down.

And with a ping, the two threads met and the amulet rekindled. The separate shells of aura wrapped separately around the amulet had blended. It had needed only that one last color as a catalyst.

I gasped, fingers spasming open as a pulse of energy cramped up my arm like lightning.

“No!” I cried when the amulet slipped from my numb fingers and fell.

Elyse flung out a hand, catching it as her eyes met mine. “Rice crackers,” she swore mildly, wonder filling her expression. “You fixed it!” She stared down at it in disbelief. “This is amazing. The lost magic we could find again.”

I couldn’t smile, couldn’t meet her relieved expression. The heartache of the elf who had originally created it was still echoing in me, his anger, betrayal, revenge, and longing slowly blurring into one emotion of despair.

“Sure,” I rasped, fingers trembling as I reached for my water bottle. “Knock yourself out. But if you don’t do it right and try to seal it with too little or too much energy, it will break. You can’t rekindle a charm once broken.” I took a swallow, draining it dry. “Like I said, I wouldn’t have shown you if I thought you could do it.”

Elyse lifted her chin. “I might surprise you.”

I was tired, relieved, slightly angry, and feeling a lot like Al trying to explain something to me. “Yep, I would be. Don’t lose it.”

Her fingers closed possessively over the charm, and a flash of annoyance crossed me. All of a sudden, I couldn’t handle her attitude anymore, and I stood. After she had saved us both from Newt, I had somehow expected more from her…and I wasn’t seeing it. She had busted two buildings and a parking lot when a simple hold spell would have sufficed.Worse, she thought it was her God-given right to do so and walk away. Like a demon.

My eye twitched as I put my bag over my shoulder and looked down at her. “Let’s go. I want to get rid of the robes and we need to get Johnny on the boat. I have a few hours before they find him, and I’d like to spend them sleeping before we have to cremate him instead of Kisten.”

Elyse stared at me, clearly startled when I snatched up our baskets and paper napkins, wadding everything up into one mass as I took it to the trash and shoved it in. Arms swinging, I headed out to the truck, sure she would follow.

She might be holding the amulet, but I was still her ticket home.

Chapter

30

I put a hand tomy mouth to stifle a yawn, the other on the dash as Elyse slowed to make the tight turn onto the dirt road that led to the dock where Kisten’s boat was. Old swamp trees arched overhead, and the low sun made flashing bars instead of a dappled shade. Two to-go coffees sat in the center console, but mine was decaf and would do nothing to get me through the next hour of placing Johnny, cleaning the boat of our presence, returning the truck, and then maybe getting a few hours of sleep.

My bag was a great deal lighter without the robes, sashes, and hats—now stuffed into Sylvia’s night drop box with a note of thanks—but I couldstillsmell burnt amber, and I cracked the window a little more.

Elyse looked as tired as I felt, the drive out here and the silence that had accompanied it leaving her with very little stimulation with which to stay awake. Getting Johnny on Kisten’s boat wasn’t going to be easy, physically or emotionally. Right about now, Ford was helping me relive Kisten’s death. Shortly thereafter, we were going to come out here and find him. That it was really Johnny I’d be crying over didn’t help. Knowing Kisten was safe in a morgue drawer did.

The likelihood of Kisten waking up was less than slim. He was battling Art’s virus. The best I could hope for was getting his body home intact so I could use Elyse’s curse to bring back his ghost. Every. Single. Night.

My shoulders slumped even more.