“I know. I just needed to ask. It’s an odd shift for me, knowing that, but I’ll get used to it.”
“Wolf shifters take their mates seriously, and their duties. I will protect you as much as I can, and I’m grateful for your desire. That’s the greatest compliment a woman can give her mate, to hunger for him, to want him in her bed and her life.” At that moment, he paused. “Louise is coming down the stairs. I can hear her.” He let go of me and went back to stirring the soup. “Five more minutes. Go ahead and heat up the muffins and set the table,” he added.
I nodded, popping the muffins onto a paper towel–lined plate and tucking them in the microwave. While it was running, I carried my large soup bowls—a pattern called Winterberry Woods—over to the table and then added silverware and bread plates.
“I know you had chowder last night,” Killian said. “I hope you don’t mind soup again.”
“The corn chowder was good, but I have to be honest, during the winter I can eat soup every day. Turkey, chicken, tomato, chowders, bisques…you name it, I’ll eat it.” I remembered that I had promised to call Ari when I got home. While Killian poured the soup into a tureen, I pulled out my phone and rang her number.
“Hey, we made it home safe. But crap, I tell you, girl, that restaurant is haunted in the worst of ways. How are you?” I suddenly remembered that she had wanted to talk to me about something. “Didn’t you say you had something to tell me?”
She laughed. “Oh that, it’s nothing serious. Nothing bad—actually, it’s something good, and you’re the one who inspired it. Meagan and I are engaged!”
“Wow, talk about a change!” I paused. I liked Meagan and I had known they were more than casual, even if they hadn’t, but this was a big leap. “What made you decide to do that? I thought you were just casual,” I said, grinning. I had known they were more than just casually dating.
“You’re the one who made me look at my feelings on a deeper level, and I realized that you’re right. It’s not a casual affair and it never was. We just called it that because we’ve both been hurt in the past.” Ari let out a happy sigh. “I can’t believe I’m engaged.”
“I’m happy for you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it 100 percent. But I also realized I had just gotten out of a bad marriage and my reactions might be skewed because of that. I decided to just go with it. “That’s wonderful, Ari. Give Meagan my love and when the roads are clear, we’re going to celebrate. I have to go—Killian just put lunch on the table and I have a guest here, but I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
As I sat down to eat, thoughts of ghosts and shadow men and engagements raced through my head, like some maniacal sugar-plum dream. Only instead of Santa, I was pretty sure Krampus was behind this day.
Chapter Thirteen
Killian stayed the night, and after we had made love, I slipped out from beneath the covers once he was softly snoring. I slid my robe on and padded downstairs and into the library. Crossing to the chest where my mother’s ritual gear was, I knelt in front of it.
As I opened the lid, the smell of cedar rose from it, soothing my senses. The chest had belonged to my mother, and before her, to my grandmother. I suspected it went back to my great-grandmother Colleen, who had come over from Ireland. It was Colleen’s side of the family through which our magical gifts passed. I knew I had cousins scattered around, descendants of other members of her family, but I didn’t have any names or addresses. All of a sudden, I was hungry to know about them, to follow our family history back as far as I could. I made a note to ask Teran the next time I talked to her. She kept track of all the information like that.
I pulled out my mother’s athame, the ritual dagger she had used to cast circles. The hilt was holly wood, with a silver pommel and cross guard. The double-edged blade was long and curved, almost like a kris knife. I held it up, wondering if I should use it or find one of my own. Either way, I needed to start studying the magic that I had put to the side when I married Ellison. It had been too long, and there was a lot to catch up on, but better late than never, I thought.
Stand up, Esmara whispered. Stand in the middle of the room and raise the dagger out in front of you, pointing with the flat of the blade turned toward the ceiling.
Startled, I quickly obeyed. When the Ladies spoke, you answered. Unless you wanted them to teach you a lesson the hard way.
Now, I want you to focus on a beam of energy running down through your crown chakra. Pull the energy down and through you, and channel it into the blade.
I closed my eyes, visualizing the energy of… What kind of energy? Where do I draw it from?
From the sky above, from the ground below, from the waves of the bay, from the flames in the fireplace. It depends on what you want to do with it. For now, focus on channeling it from the night around you.
Okay, then. I focused on the energy in the house, the hush of the night, the shadows of the evening, and I gathered the energy and brought it in through my crown chakra. Instantly, I felt stronger. I straightened and coaxed the energy down into my arm to run along through it, feeling it spark and pop as I channeled it into the blade. Now what?
Next, focus the energy out of the tip of the blade as you slowly turn. You remember how to do this. Your mother taught you, but you’re rusty and you need some guidance.
I focused the energy out of the tip of the blade, as directed, and at first felt some resistance, but then the block jogged loose and it began to flow through my arm, into my hand, and then out the point of the blade. As soon as the jolt hit me, I remembered my mother, teaching me to cast a circle when I was a little girl. I began to turn, drawing a line of energy around me until it met itself and interlocked, forming a ring of power that surrounded me.
Build the sphere… Esmara’s words echoed in my head.
I placed the dagger on the coffee table and held out my hands, keeping connected to the pulse of the circle. I began to run the energy in a curved pattern, up over my head, then down below my feet, sweeping it into a bubble surrounding me. Then, when I was encased within the protective shield, I held out both arms, my left hand palm up, my right palm down, and infused the sphere with more of the energy, inching it outward. The kii—the magical energy—ran strong, flowing through my veins, flowing out my hands, enlarging the sphere of protection. It grew larger and larger and I opened my eyes, seeing the faint golden light expand around me like a balloon, until it encompassed the house. But unlike a balloon, the sphere was strong and resilient, and couldn’t be easily popped or deflated. Then I found the cord of the sphere, a lot like an umbilical cord that was firmly anchored through the floor, and I grounded it even more, sinking it through the floor and past the foundation, down into the ground so that it took hold and rooted. Finally, I held out my hands, both palms up, and whispered:
Magic from the silver moon,
Protection from the golden sun,
Ground this circle, protect this home,
As I will, so be it done.
Another second and I felt the circle of protection lock into place, and I relaxed. I had just formally warded my home. While it wouldn’t protect against Val Slater getting through—that would take a charm of a different sort—it should keep negative spirits and beasties from dropping in without warning.