Page 25 of Capricorn Blessed

“What can we do?” he asks.

“Just stay out of my way,” she answers, dropping the bag to the ground and digging through it.

Kenric comes up to my side, grabs my hand, and laces our fingers together. Izzy takes my other side.

Miranda pulls out some leaves, crushes them in her palm, mumbles a spell, and blows them toward Beorn. Next, she pulls out a few crystals, placing them in a triangular shape. She retrieves a vial of liquid oil, lifting it and saying a few words before pouring it into the middle of the triangle. A few candles join the shape, turning it into more of a circle. Miranda turns to look at us.

“I need blood from one of you,” she says. “I don’t care who.”

I break the hold of Dennis’s hands around my waist, moving to stand next to the witch. She drawls a long golden dagger out of her bag, catching my hand in hers and drawing it across my palm. I hiss quietly, telling myself the pain doesn’t exist. She closes my hand into a fist, squeezing and dripping my blood onto the ground in the middle of the circle.

Miranda starts chanting in another language, moving my fist over the circle. Heat builds around us. She doesn’t stop chanting. Her words come faster and faster. I feel like I’m being burned alive. I grit my teeth and watch for something to happen. Finally, the candles burst into flames, and Miranda drops my hand. I lean back, panting slightly, looking between the candles and Beorn behind the gate. Kenric rushes forward, pressing a handkerchief he pulled from somewhere to my wound.

“Let’s hope that worked,” Miranda says. “If it didn’t, I’ll have to get the coven involved.” She and Kenric share a look at that, making me wonder if the coven may not be on our side.

She steps toward the gate, pausing and squinting her eyes. Beorn doesn’t make any noise or seem in distress. She moves a few more steps, repeating the process. After a third time, she turns back to us.

“I’d call that a success. Why don’t you come on out and join us?”

Beorn lifts his hand up to open the gate before I call out, “Wait!”

He freezes, waiting for me to continue.

“The gate electrocuted him earlier when he tried to follow us out.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Miranda says. She waves her hands without speaking for a few seconds. “All done, come on out.”

Beorn pushes the gate, looking around almost timidly as he steps across the threshold and back into the world for the first time in years.

Chapter 12

Goon Squad

We stop for food at a local diner about halfway back to Kenric’s apartment. Beorn has been quiet, processing both the fact that he was a prisoner for two years and now he is free.

Izzy, Dennis, Kenric, and I talk, laugh, and try to keep topics light. We leave pauses for Beorn to join in, but he listens and stares into space. My heart breaks for him and all that he’s gone through in the last few years. Especially since we don’t know who put him under that curse and why. Reaching over, I squeeze his hand and give him a soft smile, which he returns before turning back to stare out the windows.

The bell jingles, and the sound in the diner stops. Shivers trace down my spine as I fight the urge to turn and look at who had this effect.

I furrow my eyebrows at Izzy and Kenric across from me, facing the door. Izzy drops her gaze and shrugs, grabbing her slice of pizza and taking a bite. Kenric’s pale skin somehow goes paler, making him look like a corpse before he ducks his head, letting his white blonde hair fall forward and hide his face. Dennis turns his head to look at the door before looking back at Kenric.

“Who is it?” I whisper, not wanting to draw too much attention to us but wanting to know who could cause this much of a reaction in my mate.

He shakes his head and holds a finger up to his lips. Weird, but whatever. I twist my head to the side, trying to glance behind me. I see a group of men in trench coats have entered and are moving toward us. Looking around, every table is having the same reaction as Kenric; heads lowered and voices quiet.

The men move to the corner booth, filling the booth made for large groups with the six of them. I lower my head, glancing through my lashes to watch them. They are close enough to our table, we can listen in while finishing our food.

One server approaches their table timidly, head lowered and the hand holding the notepad visibly shaking. I hear the other customers asking for their checks and see piles of money on tables as most people make a hasty exit.

The server at the other table walks away on shaky knees.

“I can’t believe we have to come all the way out here to deal with what’s probably a false alarm,” the man in the middle gripes. He has an accent like English isn’t his first language.

“The Council ignores it when it’s only the one, but there have been four triggered yesterday and today. We’ve never had that many at this location. And the operative isn’t answering any of the inquiries. This one’s never gone rogue before,” the one across from him answers. That man has the tone of someone in charge and the stature to back it up. He sounds like he grew up in the Southern United States and is wide enough to take up half the booth by himself.

“Can we at least do something fun?” Whines a scrawny man at the end. His nose is long and pointy, giving him almost a bird-like appearance. He also sounds like he isn’t native to France.

“What the fuck is there to do out here?” barks the first man. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Let’s just go make sure everything at the castle is as it should be and get the fuck out of here!”

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