Page 32 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
“Could I bear to do anything else?” he mused as I listened for the magic of the house’s wards and then added Monster as an exception to the anti-demon protection the way one might allow a certain website to have access through a firewall.
I put my broom against the wall beside the coatrack, moving in the direction of the staircase before I realized that my father was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He barely even registered that we were here.
He looked up as I came around the side of the couch and knelt in front of him. The crackling flames in the fireplace were low enough that I was concerned. Just because there were witch-eaters (aka krampus) in Hael didn’t mean they’d followed us here yet … but they could.
And they had a special sort of magic that allowed them to travel through places decorated with soot, ash, and smoke. They could burn flames against the side of a spelled house, and then climb up it as if there were no wards there. Chimneys were their favorite means of entering a protected home as they were almost always coated with a protective layer of carbon on the inside.
The krampus were also, fortunately, terribly sensitive to heat.
A hot burning fire would keep them out, but only if we kept it going.
“Dad, what happened?” I whispered, my voice low but calm. I could stay calm in a crisis, sure. “The kids—”
“The kids are just fine,” he answered quickly, looking up and reaching out to cup the side of my face. “But your mother … She’s no longer coherent. For this to be successful, we’re going to have to layer a powerful healing spell on top of the curse removal.”
My mouth tightened into a thin line, and I stood up, taking on my high priestess mantle as I looked at the men gathered behind the sofa, all five of them. Four half-witches and soulmates, one full-blooded demon. The only five men I’d ever had sex with.
“Please tell me you have slippery elm bark on hand?” I asked, looking down at my father again. If he didn’t have the herbs necessary here, I’d have to send at least two of the guys back to the shop to grab what we needed. “Calendula? Marshmallow? Echinacea?”
My father smiled wanly and rose to his feet.
“Your mother is nothing if not thorough; everything you need should be in the shed.” He turned back to the fire and moved over to add another log to it. Now wasn’t the best time to bring up the witch-eaters, but I made sure to tap his shoulder once and meet his eyes.
“Keep the fire hot and strong,” I warned him, and then I swept off down the hall with the men following me. Spectre, Caine, and Argent looked plenty at home here. Monster seemed entirely indifferent to the fact that he was in the home of one of the Three, but thrilled at being able to walk the earth unfettered. Hex looked nervous as well, Hael. Appropriate puns and all.
My mother kept her vast selection of dried herbs out back, through a winding path in her garden (the one that produced heavy harvests all year round, thanks to a bit of magic) and in a large ‘shed’. It was more like a guesthouse, with a kitchen and a bathroom, running water, electricity, the whole nine yards.
I swept my hand over the locks and they fell to the ground. I didn’t bother to pick them up; there was no time for any of that. With both hands, I pushed open the doors and my husbands breezed in behind me.
Hex and Monster, on the other hand, both came to abrupt halts, barred from entering by the wards on the shed. They could wait outside just fine tonight. Monster, I would never allow inside this shed. Hex … I had no idea what Hex was going to do.
Even if I were pregnant with his baby, what did that matter? We could co-parent. I wasn’t going to drag a commitment phobic asshole into my family kicking and screaming.
I looked up at the two-story wall just inside and to the left of the shed doors. It was made of reclaimed wood that’d been white-washed, and it was covered from floor to ceiling in dried herbs hanging from hooks. Each one was labelled with a small placard beneath it, and my mouth twitched.
I could recognize these herbs in my sleep, in the dark, while wearing a blindfold. But that was mother, always thorough. I started plucking herbs from the wall, catching the rolling wooden ladder when Spectre pushed it over to me.
With him spotting me, I climbed halfway up to snatch the marshmallow plant—the roots, not the puffy white candy—and then up to the very top to grab the echinacea.
