Shadowland (The Immortals #3)(84)

With this spell I bind thee to me



Raising my athame and slicing it across my palm, tracing the curve of my lifeline as a rush of wind sweeps through the circle and an applause of thunder claps overhead. My hair whipping about as I squint against the swirling gale, my blood letting onto the cord until it’s soaked and red. Rushing to secure it around Roman’s neck, my gaze fixed on his, willing him to provide what I seek, before banishing him as though he never appeared.

I rise, body shaking, sweating, elated to know that it’s over and done. Just a matter of time before the antidote to the antidote is in my possession and Damen and I join as one.

The wind begins to slow as the snap crackle of electricity starts to abate, and I’m collecting the stones and snuffing the candles when Romy and Rayne burst through the door, mouths open, eyes wide, as they stand there and gape.

“What have you done?” Rayne cries, gaze darting from my magick salt circle, to my collection of tools, to my blood-covered knife.

I look at them, gaze steady and secure, as I say, “Relax. It’s over. I fixed it. And now it’s just a matter of time before everything is put right again.”

About to step out of the circle when Romy shouts, “Stop!”

Hand held before her, eyes blazing as her sister adds, “Don’t move. Please, just trust us this time and do what we say.”

I pause, glancing between them, wondering what could possibly be the big deal. The spell worked. I can feel its energy still thrumming inside me, and now it’s just a matter of time until Roman appears—

“You’ve really done it this time,” Rayne says, shaking her head. “Don’t you know that the moon is dark? You’re never supposed to do magick on the dark moon—never! It’s a time for contemplation, meditation, but you never, ever, practice unless you’re practicing the dark arts.”

I glance between them, wondering if she’s serious, and if so, what difference it could possibly make. If the spell worked, it worked. The rest is just details. Right?

Her twin chiming in to add, “Who did you call upon to aid you?”

I think back on my rhyme, the one I was pretty proud of for making up on the fly, recalling the line: Evoking the power and protection of thee, and repeating it to her.

“Great,” Rayne says, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

Romy standing beside her, frowning as she adds, “During the dark moon, the goddess is absent while the queen of the underworld takes over. So in other words, instead of calling upon the light to work your spell, you asked the dark powers to aid you.”

And to bind Roman to me! I gape, eyes wide, darting between the two of them, wondering if there’s a way to reverse it, quickly, easily, before it’s too late!

“It is too late,” they say, reading my face. “All you can do now is wait for the next moon phase and try to reverse it. If it can be reversed.”

“But—” The word dying on my lips as the enormity of my situation starts to sink in. Remembering Damen’s warning from before, how sometimes when people get involved in witchcraft they get in over their head and wind up taking a much darker path . . .

I gaze at the two of them, unable to speak. Watching Rayne shake her head angrily as her sister looks at me and says, “All you can do now is cleanse yourself and your tools, burn your athame, and hope for the best. And then, if you’re lucky, we’ll let you out of the circle so all the bad energy you’ve conjured can’t escape.”

“If I’m lucky?” I look at them, stomach sinking. Is she serious? Is it really that bad?

Gaze darting between them as Romy says, “Don’t push it. You’ve no idea what you’ve started.”





forty-four


Miles and Holt arrive together, and when they take one look at the decorations, Miles totally flips.

“I don’t even have to go to Florence now that you’ve brought Florence to me!” He hugs me to him, quickly pulling away when he says, “Sorry, I forgot how you hate to be touched.”

But I just shake my head and hug him again, feeling pretty good despite Romy and Rayne standing before me like the Great Wall of Pessimism—all raised brows, folded arms, and twisted lips—while I performed a quick but thorough grounding/protection meditation, picturing strong beams of white light penetrating my skull and flowing through my body, in an attempt to ward off at least some of the damage they’re convinced that I’ve done.

But the truth is, I don’t see the point. After the initial burst of empowerment, just after the binding spell was completed, everything returned to normal again. The only reason I even went through with their guided meditation is because they were acting so freaked, it was the only way to calm them down. But now I’m thinking it was all just a big misunderstanding—a complete overreaction on their part.

I mean, I’m immortal, gifted with strength and power they can’t even begin to imagine. So while performing a magical ritual during the dark moon may pose danger to them, I seriously doubt it makes the slightest bit of difference for me.

And no sooner have I gotten Miles and Holt their drinks when the bell rings again, and again, and before I know it, my house is filled with pretty much every member from the Hairspray cast and crew.

“Huh, guess he’s not Haven’s date after all, unless they’re arriving separately?” Miles says, nodding toward Jude as he enters the room laughing that good-natured laugh and helping himself to some virgin sangria, before taking off with Holt and leaving us alone together.