Page 146 of Blue Moon Mistress

More whispered words and I stream the mixture of our come over the roses letting it drip and coat and seal in the protections and peace this spell is designed for.

And when the jar in my hand is empty—when I’ve used that tiny bit of magic to pull the last of it from one to the other—I swirl the spell jar and take a moment to study the way that part of us has mixed with the herbs and flowers.

I know witches who would add glitter for the sparkle. Know others who would add amethyst or jet.

But there is only one thing I have left to add to the mixture within the jar.

The bag of black sand glitters on its own and when I pour it over top, it forms a layer. Binding, grounding, and protecting all at once.

The red candle gutters despite the still air. Wax pools in the vessel that holds it.

When I screw the lid down tight, I feel the flutter of the spell on my skin and know they’ll feel it too, even if they don’t know what it is, exactly.

I offer my breath to the strength of the spell and blow the candle out, taking it from the stand at the center of its vessel before I begin to drip the melted wax over the jar to seal it in tight.

As the wax drips down the metal and glass, I whisper more words I won’t share with anyone. And when the spell is done, I feel like there’s a little more space in my chest… a little more air in my lungs.

Taking the jar in both hands, I stand and walk it out to the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand, beside the amulets for sound sleep and pleasant dreams.

Even if I can’t be with them… They will be with me.

It only takes a moment to set the few remnants of the spell on the cart in the bathroom to be put away later. And when that is done, I crawl into my bed, turning off the lights with a flick of my wrist and watch the dim glow of the spell jar until my lids are too heavy, and I drift off to sleep.

When I wake,it’s to the angry sound of a buzzing phone and I stumble out into the house, following it the noise like an irritating trail of breadcrumbs.

“I am still alive and unharmed.” I say, instead of hello.

“Well that’s a relief.” My mother sounds grumpy. “Why haven’t you answered my calls?”

“I was sleeping.” When silence meets my response, I add, “Remember those witchy parties you went to back in college?”

“I don’t need to know.”

“But you do know, so I’m left wondering why you sound shocked.”

“Bagel.” She says, with a warning tone. “I’m allowed to be worried. This was the first full moon since your spell.”

“And everything was perfectly fine.”

“Good.” There’s relief in the word.

“Have a little faith in what you taught me.”

She chuckles and then, there’s a pause. “If you conceive on a full moon—”

“Nope.” I stop her before she can say anything else. “We are not going to talk about that. It’s been a month, and before you say anything else, I want to remind you that that discussion will be between them and me, you will not be involved.”

“The coven—”

“They will not be involved either.”

“I know, I just… The coven still claims you. They claim ownership of your actions too. Don’t forget that. Because I assure you, they won’t.”

I glance at the clock… I slept longer than I realized.

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out soon enough. I need to go. There are a few things I still have to clean up after last night.”

“Okay. I love you bagel. I just want to keep you safe.”

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