Page 226 of Blue Moon Mistress

It could be a bit of her magic seeping through in unconscious ways.

“After this is over… I’m going to take you to meet Geena. She’s a sea witch that lives out by the light house. I’ll warn you, she’s grumpy, and she likes being alone, but she’s also an amazing healer… maybe that’s where your magic needs to be nurtured.”

“It sounds cheaper than trying to get into med school.”

With a chuckle, she looks at the clock. “I’ve got to get going, or I’m going to be late for work. Good luck!”

We’re going to need it.

Twenty-One

Unlike the last full moon,the guy’s ill-ease isn’t about whether or not they’ll change. The moon has already set, and they’re pacing behind the line I told them not to cross.

Each one of them wears the small bandage from the blood draw still, tucked away beneath long-sleeved shirts.

The salt around them should keep Aphrodite out, but it’s never a good idea to advertise any weakness.

I kneel in my own protective circle, at the center of a pentagram of salt, and cut open the blood packets, pouring them into the bowl that was prepped before.

They sizzle as they mix and I stir them in as I pour in the last ingredient: moon water from the night I tied them to me.

My breath puffs in the chill of the night air and the cloak over my shoulders—the only concession to the cold of the night air—is too thin with the icy chill of Aphrodite’s specter, lurking, waiting for the precise moment.

But spells like these require concessions, and blood magic is too often about rebirth.

The only thing I will wear when the time comes is my own blood, and the green poultice smeared over my skin, a final protection spell specifically against the Lourdes family.

I feel the static in the air. The wolves are almost completely corporeal and they stand at either side of me. They’re waiting too.

When I slide the cloak back and pick up the bowl, I let the freezing air fill my lungs. A new burn made even more unpleasant by what I’ve been forced to do.

Aphrodite’s form flickers just beyond the salt ring and though they growl, the wolves don’t rush her. There’s nothing for their fangs to sink into.

Like their human counterparts, they’re forced spectators in this.

Sometimes spells are things that require precise words, specific languages, or even ridiculous rhymes. But Aphrodite isn’t a demon with a sadistic sense of humor. She’s not even a true witch anymore. Just a shadow of what once was.

What I know will never be again.

“You have no power here. You have no business being here. Go back to whatever hell you escaped. You cannot have me, or the men I love.”

As I say the final word, her fingers break through the salt ring. The moon has reached its fullest state…

I pour the bowl over my head, gasping at the cold, even though I knew it was coming.

Her specter is locked in the spell, her arm stuck in the blue haze of the protections.

She thrashes against it.

Teeth chattering, I say the words low and with every ounce of power I can draw. “Leave now, and never come back.” I blow a long breath at her and she pulls away in tendrils like wisps of smoke.

The forest falls silent.

Not even the wolves growling penetrates the stillness.

I search for any trace of her, but she’s gone. Well and truly.

“Why does that seem too easy?” Joshua asks from behind me.

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