Blood Magic (6 page)

I knocked lightly on the door and it opened almost immediately under my touch. I was a little startled and had to remind myself I'd come to visit a witch. Of course there would be magic around.

Natasha smiled up at me, honey brown eyes beaming cheerfully, the morning light catching the silvery highlights in her pale hair. "Well, hello Mel. I had a feeling I'd be seeing you soon."

"Of course, you would have a feeling
." I snorted as she moved aside for me.

I entered, turning back when Natasha remained at the door
, her spine stiff. Uh oh. She stood on the threshold, staring out at the porch. Her stillness giving me a sinking feeling.

"Now where do you think you are going
?" she asked the air straight ahead of her. When she got no answer she laughed. "Don't stand there and think I can't see you."

I grinned, wondering what Drake would do now. I could just imagine how uncomfortable he was
, standing there all invisible and knowing Natasha still could see him. So much for his gargoyle magic.

The air shimmered and Drake slowly became visible. He scowled as he stared at Natasha, although his eyes held a touch of embarrassment.

"Thank you," she said. "And now you can wait on the porch while Mel and I talk." She didn't wait for an answer. Just closed the door in his face.

I chuckled
. "Drake's not going to be very happy about that."

The witch was unperturbed. "Well, unless he's come here on a personal visit, he is not coming inside. I don't allow dark creatures within the walls of my home. Not without a very good reason. And accompanying a friend is not one of them."

I glanced at the closed door. "Poor guy. All he wants is to help."

"He can help by sitting quietly on the porch and not disturbing me."

I chuckled again, giving the door another fleeting look and thinking about the angry gargoyle just beyond it. "I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon," I said.

Natasha nodded and walked further into the hallway
, her hips swaying in unconscious grace. For a witch, she was so down-to-earth it was disconcerting. How often did you meet a powerful witch who liked jeans and t-shirts and war games? She led me into a large sitting room. On my first visit here a long, long time ago, I'd been pleasantly surprised. The house was nothing like I'd imagined a witch’s house to be. Whitewashed walls, beautiful landscape paintings, antique vases and urns, and dozens of handcrafted rugs filled the house. I sank into a couch, leaning back against half a dozen cushions. Natasha seated herself opposite me and waited, her face serene, her white blonde hair framing her face and hanging down to her waist.

I cleared my throat, feeling a little uncomfortable. I had figured I'd come to see Natasha
, but hadn't exactly decided on what I needed from her. Not a very smart move.

"So what can I do for you
?" she asked, her expression curious, yet pleasant. It was a damned good thing this white witch liked me.

"I'm not sure," I said. "This case I'm working on, part
of it involves me hiring the services of a necromancer." I didn't miss the narrowing of her eyes or the tightening of her jaw. "I'm really not sure what I'm going to need when I go to him. But I do know what I'm asking him is going to cost me."

"Why do you need to go to a necromancer?" Natasha's face darkened as she spoke.

I sighed, knowing she wouldn't agree easily. "My current case is a little girl. She's been taken by demons." The thought of Samantha alone and scared in that metal room somewhere in Dastra made my heart clench. The tightness and pain was sufficient reminder of the urgency.

Natasha shook her head, her eyes almost accusing. "But you usually come to me if you need help on your cases."

"This one's different," I said, taking a deep breath. "She's being warded with blood magic."

The white witch paled, giving her hair a run for its money. "You do realize this is serious stuff, don't you?"

I nodded. Natasha was always warning me about my cases, especially when it meant I traveled to other planes, and fought demons hand-to-hand. And here I had a problem unequivocally different and incomparably more dangerous than any I faced before. "Yeah, I know. But I need to find a way to get past the ward or I lose the girl."

Natasha nodded, the movement slow and unconscious as she considered my words. She knew enough about me to understand how important it was to me not to lose an innocent. She schooled her features and asked, "Was there a spell?"

"A pentagram written with blood, bones and fire inside it." I shuddered thinking about those bones and when I met Natasha's eyes I saw she knew what they may be. "And some writing I didn't understand."

"Okay, that does sound like some serious dark magic." She rose and walked around to the window. I kn
ew how she felt. The thought of Samantha stuck in that prison for even another day made me uneasy, restless. "Unfortunately, and as much as I hate to say it, the necromancer is your best bet for a spell to break the circle. Who are you going to see?"

"Nathaniel." The name echoed around the room like a death knell.

Natasha hissed. "He's a right bastard, that one. Evil to the core. You need to be really careful when you see him." She shook her head, her eyes darkening with worry. "I really wish you had an alternative. I'd rather you stayed as far away from Nathaniel as much as possible."

"I know. Me too." I leaned my head against the back of the sofa, sinking deeper into the cushions, the weight of the witch
’s concern heavy on my mind. I'd known it was a bad idea to see him but her fear made me worry more. Then I sighed. "But I don't have a choice. So how can you help me?"

She turned to look at me, a look of determination hardening her features. "We need to keep you safe. Make sure he can't spell you in any way."

Magic was the least of my problems when it came to the necromancer. "And when he asks for payment?" I raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have to pay him with?" She asked the question merely as a formality. I could see it in her eyes.

"What will he want?"

"Blood or a life sacrifice
," she said dryly. I'd known the answer. Shouldn't have bothered to ask.

"I damned well hope he just wants the blood." I got to my feet as well, the thought of meeting Nathaniel turning my stomach.

"We just have to hope." She smiled, more a grimace than anything. Nothing to smile about. "Right, I'd better get you sorted then. You'll want a protection spell for your body and mind. And I might be able to fix you something to avoid the whole bloodletting thing."

"Really?" I was very curious. I knew what I was asking for would cost me but if I could avoid giving the sorcerer my blood
, I'd be very relieved.

Natasha nodded. "Come, let's get started." She headed out of the room without looking back. I followed, my mind whirling with worry and a touch of fear. I'd never had to break a blood curse before. The witch led me into the next room, which appeared far more modern than one would expect. White wallpaper with a pale gold leaf imprint, an oak desk fronted by a pair of white single sofas. She waved her hand at the seats and said, "Sit, I won't be long."

She left the room and I heard her in the kitchen, glasses tinkling, fridge opening and closing. Five minutes later she breezed into the room holding a tray. Three large glasses of lemonade sat on the silver plate and I glanced up at her. She just handed me a glass, placing one on the desk. Then she left the room with the third. Curious, I went to the door and watched her as she headed to the front door and out to Drake. The hum of voices filtered toward me and I returned to my seat to sip the ice cold drink, all the while smiling to myself. Drake would be totally flummoxed. I bet he wouldn't have expected hospitality while banished to the front porch.

Then Natasha breezed into the room, dusting her hands together as if thoroughly pleased with herself. She seated herself behind her desk and sat there
a moment, framed by white and gold striped curtains and a large picture window at her back. She took a long swig of her drink before heading to a set of drawers against the wall.

I didn't understand too much of what she did but I watched anyway. She withdrew a white marble bowl and a
long purple amethyst and placed it in the center of the desk. Then she fetched a large glass pitcher of water from a table by the window. This she poured into the bowl until the water reached the brim. Then she rummaged in one of her drawers and withdrew a small brown bag, which she untied, revealing soft brown sand. She set it beside the bowl and headed to the left hand wall, which was covered in floor to ceiling oak shelving. She reached for a small iron brazier, merely a metal box with four iron legs. This she placed on the table, arranging each of the items in a triangle with the iron stand closest to her and the purple stone right in the middle.

I shifted, restless. I'd been to see Natasha before and knew well enough it wouldn't
be a five minute job, but I did hope she wouldn't take too long. Poor Drake was staked out on the porch. After the lemonade I couldn't be certain that he'd be getting angrier by the minute. I hoped he was relaxed and waiting patiently. Anyone would prefer a calm Drake to a tetchy one. The witch fiddled in her desk drawer again and retrieved a pile of twigs tied together in a small bundle, and a long thin fire lighter.

She placed the wood in the metal brazier and said, "Right. I want you to come closer. Wash your hands in the water." I returned my glass to the desk and headed around to stand beside her. I followed her instruction obediently, then dried my hands on the soft red towel she
gave me. "Now, take the bag and put a handful of soil at the point of the triangle." She indicated one point. I completed the task and dusted the sand off my fingers. Then she passed me the firelighter and I flicked the switch a few times until I got a strong flame. It took a while for the twigs to catch alight but I eventually got a good little fire going. I stepped back and glanced at Natasha. She nodded more to herself than anything and I handed the lighter back to her, heading back to my seat while Natasha hovered over the desk.

Smoke rose from the brazier and hung about like a murky cloud at the ceiling. I blinked, my eyes beginning to sting but Natasha made no move to open the windows. Instead she stood before the arrangement and raised her hands first to the ceiling
, then to her breast, then to the desk. She spoke softly, a chant I didn't understand. Nor did I expect to.

What I did understand was the essence of the spell. She'd taken a piece of me for each item. Earth, Air, Fire and Water. The four elements of life and of magic. Now she stood, calling the elements to her, creating the fabric of the spell from nature itself.

My nose twitched, the smoke teasing my nostrils. I held my breath and crossed my fingers, hoping I wouldn't sneeze. Tears pooled at my lids, the haze growing thicker within the room. Natasha seemed unaffected. I blinked again and stiffened, my eyes focusing on the white witch and the air around her. How had I not seen it before? She'd drawn a circle of protection around her, similar to the one currently shielding my house - an almost invisible bubble of magic.

Power burgeoned within the bubble and I could feel the pressure of it from where I sat, pressing against me like a living thing. Just because she was a white witch didn't mean she wasn't powerful. I watched her mouth move, her words distorted as she stood, her arms raised, encased in the protection of magic. Her chants grew louder, more intense
, and my body tightened in response as I watched and waited.

The pressure grew and my ears began to pop. Natasha's brow gleamed with perspiration as she concentrated.
Then, just as suddenly, the pressure eased and Natasha relaxed. She picked up the stone and dipped it into the water. Then she took a pinch of the soil, drew a line down the center of the little crystal, and placed it in the fire. The flames danced and spat and with a sudden whoosh of air, the fire went out. Natasha reached for the cloth I'd wiped my hands on, using it to grab hold of the hot stone from inside the brazier. She began to wipe it clean as she walked to the shelves, opening a small box. She removed a little metal contraption attached to a silver chain, more a piece of coiled metal designed to hold the stone. She fiddled with it, slipping the stone inside. The witch came toward me and I got to my feet and waited, unmoving as she hung the chain around my neck.

"Keep it on you at all times. It will protect you against most spells."

"Most?" I frowned, not liking the sound of that.

She nodded. "There are some spells that this protection will fail against. Like anything that uses your own blood, for example." Natasha raised an eyebrow and I nodded. Then she moved back to her desk. "There is one more thing
, of course. Nathaniel will ask for blood. If he asks for a life, then leave. He will call you back because blood, any human blood, is precious to him. It strengthens his magical power and his spells. And since you are a mage, he will be all the more keen for a drop of your blood." She sat heavily onto her chair, and from the creases on her forehead and the bow of her shoulders, I knew she was worried. "The best way to trick him is to not use magic."