Obsidian Curse (25 page)

Chapter 47

Two weeks later…

Chance and I were making tacos on a drizzly Saturday and he was still quizzing me about the nature of my role and my witchiness.

“So you can’t fly.” He was smashing an avocado into a bowl.

“No.”

I grabbed a lime and sliced it into tiny bits to plop in the Corona.

“But you can talk to dead people.”

“Yes.”

Chance grabbed one of the limes and squeezed it into the guacamole. “Are there any here right now?”

“No. They usually don’t bother me at home.”

Thor came wandering over to take a good long whiff of the spicy meat. I tossed him a tortilla chip. He snapped it up and crunched it down.

“Show me a trick. Show me something you can do.”

I rolled my eyes. He kept wanting me to perform parlor tricks, which really wasn’t my specialty, although I had been honing my spell crafting lately.

“I can make you fall in love with me,” I said and tapped his behind.

He grinned at me. “Yes you can. But I want to
see
something. Like…” He held up a tomato. “Slice this with your mind.”

“I can’t do telekinesis.”

“Okay.” He thought a moment. “Tell me what I’m thinking.”

“I’m not a telepath. I’m a necromancer.”

I plucked the tomato from his hand and began chopping it.

The doorbell rang then and I was so startled by it that I automatically summoned my sword. It tore off the wall and flew into my hand.

Chance dropped his jaw and his beer. “That. Was. Awesome.”

I looked from the door to him. “I’m not expecting anyone; are you?”

He shook his head.

No one rang my doorbell. Ever. If Birdie or Cinnamon were coming over, they would just walk in. And any packages I ordered were delivered to the inn. Derek would text me first, Gramps would call.

“Maybe we should go into the den,” I said.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?”

“Hello? Vampire succubus. Wanted to drill you for blood.”

Chance rolled his eyes and walked to the door. He looked through the peephole and said, “Looks like a messenger.”

The bell rang again and I joined Chance behind it.

I kept the sword in my grip as I opened the door.

A stout man was standing there holding a white envelope and an electronic gadget. He glanced at the sword with a perplexed look and said, “I have a delivery for Stacy Justice.”

“That’s me.”

“I need you to sign here.” He handed me the device and I signed my name.

“Have a good day,” he said and passed me the envelope.

Thor lumbered over to inspect the package, gave it his approval, and jumped on the couch. Inside was a letter and a key.

The letter read:

To my favorite witch,

Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. It was truly a pleasure getting to know you and your family. From the bottom of my heart, please accept this small token of my gratitude and know that you are magic.

Yours truly,

The Scribe

The key said
Jeep
on it.

Chance raised his eyebrows. “He bought you a car?”

I swung the door open wide just as a flatbed truck pulled up with a shiny Jeep Wrangler perched on top of it.

I was shocked.

“I guess with the money he’ll save on an agent, he can afford it,” Chance said. Yvonne’s father, we had since learned, was Blade’s father’s college roommate. The two of them were in fact a part of a secret society that hunted down legends. It was a history professor at the university who organized the society that Blade’s father and Yvonne’s father belonged to. That professor was the Council member who had contacted Blade’s parents to tell them that there was a lineage link that traced from Blade’s mother back to the original author of the unfinished work in the
Book of Dun Cow
.

The reunion Blade’s dad had mentioned in my vision took place a few weeks before the murders and involved just the three of them. Yvonne’s father, already a literary agent at the time, didn’t believe that Blade’s parents had no idea where the skull was located. He threatened that if they didn’t produce the skull and “share the wealth,” harm would come to their son. We surmised that Blade’s father thought there were clues hidden in the Robert Silverberg book, which was why he had studied it so intently.

When Yvonne and her father showed up to collect the skull, the man knew instantly it was a fake. But it was his teenage daughter who delivered the blows that killed Blade’s parents. According to Yvonne, her father had no intention of hurting anyone. When the two stole the computer and read the stories Blade had written, seeing how prolific and talented an author he was as a mere boy, they knew that if they got their hands on both him and the skull, they would make a fortune. He was in college himself, searching for an agent, when Yvonne offered to represent him.

Before he left, I warned Blade Knight not to publish anything that wasn’t filtered and scrubbed through the Council first. Who knew how many more secrets his work would lead to? He assured me that Birdie had already made him promise that much, upon threat of being turned into a sniveling troll. And he believed her.

As for the obsidian skull, the Council was sending someone to collect it today and I was more than happy to get rid of it. I wanted no part of keeping that much power in my guard.

I realized later that evening that I hadn’t talked to my mother in a week. I decided to give her a call and went into the Seeker’s Den to connect through the scrying mirror.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, honey.” Her eyes darted toward another part of the room. “Everything all right?”

I said, “Yes. Just wanted to talk.”

“Oh. Well, listen, sweetie, can I call you later? I’m just heading out.”

I heard a door open then and a voice boom, “Sloane, come on. Shake your ass and let’s go.”

I knew that voice. I knew it like I knew my own, but I hadn’t heard it in years.

“Uncle Deck?”

My mother cut the connection.

Author’s Note

This is the book where our reluctant witch is no longer entirely reluctant, which is why I thought it appropriate to set around the Samhain holiday. Samhain is the pagan New Year, when resolutions are made, rituals are performed, and divination is on the agenda. It’s the most magical night of the year, when the veils between the worlds are thin and witches can communicate with—and sometimes see—those ancestors who have passed over to the other side. In a sense, it’s a time of rebirth, and that’s exactly what is happening to Stacy in
Obsidian Curse
. She’s becoming a new woman, a stronger witch, and a loyal Geraghty.

I wrote most of this story upon returning home from an energizing writers conference, so you’ll see many literary references between the pages. If you want to learn more about
The Book of Skulls
by Robert Silverberg, hop over to Amazon. As for the
Book of Dun Cow
, the Royal Irish Academy has several fascinating online articles. Or, if you’re lucky enough, you can visit the text there in person.

Until next time, stay magical.

Barbra Annino

Recipes for Samhain

Hot Buttered Cider

There are as many varieties of apples as there are ways to prepare them. Originally, apple cider was a fermented alcoholic beverage, called hard cider, and was manufactured across the world in countries like Spain, France, and England. Early American settlers began making the drink almost as soon as they arrived and it was quite popular in most households.

In pagan cultures, the apple was a symbol of immortality and used in many love spells. For a simple love charm, cut an apple in half, remove the seeds, and share it with the one you adore. Then bury the seeds beneath a full moon for a long and prosperous relationship.

Ingredients:

1 gallon of real apple cider

6 whole allspice

½ of a nutmeg seed

3 cinnamon sticks

8 cloves

4 pats of butter

Chamomile flowers

Suggested liquor: spiced rum

Directions:

To a large pot, add cider and spices. Add rum if desired. Simmer for twenty minutes. Strain into a pretty punch bowl and dot with butter. Garnish with chamomile flowers and serve warm. Serves twelve.

Warm Mead

Mead dates back to ancient times and is thought to hail from Ireland, where brides and grooms toasted with the drink for a month after the wedding, hence the birth of the term “honeymoon.” Traditional mead is an ancient fermented beverage made from honey, water, yeast, and occasionally spices. The process is very involved, but this is a simpler, heated version.

Ingredients:

1 bottle of Chardonnay wine

6 sprigs of sweet woodruff, washed and dried

1 vanilla bean

¼ cup honey

Directions:

Add wine, woodruff, vanilla, and honey to medium saucepan. Gently heat until honey is dissolved. Remove woodruff and vanilla and serve in goblets. Serves four.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Terry Goodman for pulling Stacy out of the slush pile and introducing her to more readers than I ever could have on my own. Huge thanks to Alison Dasho, my editor, for sifting through a very unpolished draft, finding the holes in the plot, and helping me to fill them. Your encouragement and enthusiasm for this book and the series as a whole have been instrumental in my work and confidence as a writer. For Tiffany Pokorny, Jacque Ben-Zekry, and the whole T&M Author Relations team, your efforts of hand-holding, marketing, and streamlining the production process have not gone unnoticed. When I turn a book over to Amazon Publishing, I know it’s in steady, professional, competent hands. Thanks for all your ingenuity.

Much appreciation goes to my sharp beta readers, who never shy away from the daunting task of digesting a first draft. George Annino, Selena Jones, and the great Leslie Gay—your feedback is invaluable.

Finally, thank you to my husband for sacrificing Sunday football to help throw a launch party, Saturday mornings to read my work, evenings when you’d rather be relaxing but I insist on storyboarding, and most of all, for your continued, unwavering support. Just you and me, baby.