Page 47 of A Cursed Noel

Smaller nullits emergefrom the center of the pentagram. They scurry away from the centerlike ants, revealing a piece of wood buried beneath. As I lookcloser, I realize the pentagram and the small symbols surrounding itare carved into the wood.That’sthe origin of the spell.

“Celia,” I say. “Goto your sisters. I have something to do.”

I lift her enough forShayna to grab her hand and for Emme to use her telekinesis to pullher up. As soon as she’s safe, I drop back down.

I land in a roll thatspares my legs. I slap and kick away the nullits scrambling to shieldthe old piece of wood.

The wood burns andblisters my hands when I lift it, but I don’t dare let go. I breakit against my knee with one good strike, shattering the spell.

I expect a dramaticend. The explosion of sound and creatures dying or the pit caving infrom all sides and trapping me.

There’s only thesudden silence of a ruptured spell and the pure aroma of vanquishedevil.

I stand in the centerof the room, holding the smoldering pieces of broken wood and takingin the destruction the home miraculously withstood.

It’s over. The spellis broken and the nullits are destroyed.

I only wish Celia andher family were as easily fixed.

Taran remains on thebed, holding Ana Lisa. I thought the nullits had finished off theirfoster mother. But she’s still alive, her breathing steady andsleeping soundly.

Taran cries into herhands. Like the others, she saw more than enough.

Celia holds Emme andShayna tucked under each arm. They sob, unable to control theirgrief. Tears streak Celia’s bloody cheeks. She was hurt during thefight. Still, the scratches are nothing compared to her pain.

I take a knee in frontof her, wishing I could hide her away from the creatures far worsethan nullits, and all those bastards that will no doubt come for her.

But I can’t.

Just as know I can’tstay.

My head touches hers.“I love you,” I say.

“I love you, too,”she whispers. More tears flood her eyes. “Is it over?”

“Yes,” I say.

She presses her lips tobeat back her sorrow. It doesn’t help. “Aric, those were ourparents.

I know.

I stroke away a strandof blood-coated hair. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry. This won’ttake long.”

She tries to rise. Hersisters tighten their hold, afraid to let her go.

They need her.

Ineed her to besafe.

“Where are yougoing?” she asks.

My voice is more beastthan man. “You were cursed. I’m going find the witch responsibleand make her pay with blood.”

Chapter Thirteen

Odin’s gray SUVcareens down Route 22, slush kicking up at the window as he swervesleft and right.

He almost lost control,again. I think this is the fifth, maybe the sixth time. I don’tcare. I only care that he gets me where I need to be.