Page 84 of Wicked Curses
They were a small family, but love enveloped them and their home. She couldn’t have asked for anything more from life, and she never did.
All Sahira wanted was to return to her brother and niece. She’d give anything to see them again, to feel their love, and hug them close. No matter what happened, she would survive this and escape this realm.
Tears burned her eyes, but she closed her eyes against shedding them. She would not cry in this place with those things crawling all over the building and witches and warlock here to witness her weakness.
Another bang sounded as something crashed onto the roof. Holding the spear against her chest, Sahira turned her back to the shelves and stepped into them so no one could attack her from behind.
The click of the beetles’ feet, and maybe their antennae too, became louder as they swarmed the building like bees in a hive. When the building shuddered again, more books tumbled from the shelves to slam onto the floor.
The books on the second floor fared better than those on the first. But as the bangs shook more and more of them free from their secure places on the shelves, it was only a matter of time before more crashed.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
Elsa came to stand beside her. Her chocolate-brown hair hung in a braid over her shoulder, and her chestnut-colored eyes were full of concern.
“We can work together to enact a strong protection spell over this place,” Elsa said.
Sahira glanced at where the three witches and one warlock stood near the front door. They’d grouped together away from the rest of the immortals.
“Don’t you think it would be better if you worked with them?” Sahira asked.
“No.”
Sahira glanced at the witches and warlock. All four were watching them. “They won’t appreciate that.”
“I’m not one of them.”
Sahira wanted to believe that—Elsa had certainly worked to separate herself from them—but she was acutely aware thatnothingin this realm was what it seemed.
Another loud bang rattled a dozen or so more books from the shelves.
A flurry of movement from the scarogs battering the walls and roof accompanied the books thudding against the floor. Every time some new sound came from inside, those things went crazy.
Sahira’s heart hammered as the scarogs clambered and beat at the walls. If they could, they’d tear this place down around them, but it had held up for centuries against these things and would hopefully hold up for another year.
Elsa stepped closer to Sahira. “Look, I don’t care what you are. We can work together to help ensure weallget out of this. A protective spell can help while everyone’s inside.”
She was right. Sahira rested her spear against the wall and leaned closer to Elsa.
The witch murmured a few words to her, and Sahira nodded. It wasn’t the strongest protection spell, but without herbs, stones, or other ways of enhancing their magic, it would do.
Together, their hands moved as they recited the spell. Their fingers ebbed and flowed with the cadence of the words while the power swelled between them.
“Mother sun, father moon, we call you forth to lend your power and protect us during this dire hour.”
When they finished casting the spell, power flowed from Sahira’s fingertips. She could practically feel it dancing in the air as it weaved through the elements, solidifying and strengthening a protective bond around the building.
The spell laced around the edges of the building, climbed the walls, and spread across the ceiling. There were too many books for them to try casting a spell to keep them all in place; some of them would slip through.
In her mind’s eye, all the colors it created swirled as they danced through the air. Pinks, oranges, yellows, and silvers were little starbursts illuminating the world around them.
Because they were the creators, only she and Elsa could see its power weaving around them, but the other witches and the warlock would sense it. The colors faded when the spell was firmly in place, but she felt its power pulsating around them.
“How long will that last?” one of the lycans whispered.
“At least a day,” Sahira said. “Maybe longer. But don’t open anything, and don’t go outside.”
The witches and warlock remained stone-faced where they stood by the door, but their disapproval radiated from them. They had to leave this building soon, but doing so meant someone had to die.
