Page 62 of Premonition of Peace

Ronan laid Marcel in the center of the sigil, and I pushed emotion aside. There was no room for that right now. His breathing was even more shallow than I’d expected. As if the pulsing death magic ravaging his veins wasn’t enough of a reminder of how close he was to dying, each raspy rise and fall of his chest certainly did the trick.

“Okay,” I began, my voice clear and firm as I turned to Honor, giving her a reassuring smile. “All you need to do is stay in your loop, okay, honey? I’ll do the rest.”

Honor nodded happily. “Yes, Auntie Nat. Mama told me.”

I thanked her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then looked to Orson. “Thank you for being here too, kiddo.”

He smiled, looking at his twin as they made eye contact and shared some secret moment between them.

Piper led her to sit in the top loop. Honor watched us with curiosity as Lucifer and I positioned ourselves in the two loops at the bottom, side by side. The air was thick with anticipation, every moment stretching out painfully.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and refocused my thoughts and my energy, willing the object of fate to appear.

The spindle.

The loom.

The shears.

Ancient and powerful; the coveted tools of destiny.

I vividly pictured them as they hovered in my mind. They were mine to control. I reminded myself of my strength. What I had done to get here. That these objects belonged to me.

Honor let out a tiny gasp, and Orson whispered, “Mama, did you see that?” Piper lightly shushed him.

When I opened my eyes, the objects sat in front of me, gleaming in the candlelight. Señora Rosara and August stood near the door, a stoic expression on her features and a smirk of pride on his face. Orson stood between Piper and Ronan as they watched the circle.

My gaze found Lucifer’s and he dipped his chin, silently encouraging me. Steeling myself, I looked at the others and gave a determined nod.

The Nats of the loci sat at the table, waiting with bated breath. Everyone was holding hands, except Bad Nat. She paced and flicked at her thumbnails anxiously instead.

“Don’t fuck this up,”she whispered in the recesses of my mind as I put up walls to shutter the outside world.

It was time.

twenty-one

NATHALIE

As I began to chant,I took my athame and made a clean cut across my palm, wincing as the pain bit into my skin. Blood welled along the line left by the blade. The coppery scent filled the air, mingling with the salt and incense smoke that swirled around us. Carefully I dragged the blade along the lines of my palm, ending with a rune carved into my skin.

My teeth dug into my bottom lip as I cut. The lines had to be precise, and I had to dissociate myself from the pain. Taking a steadying inhale, I turned to Lucifer, who held out his hand without hesitation. I carved a matching rune into his palm, the lines painting a red design across his broad hand.

Setting the athame down next to me, I held out my bleeding hand and Lucifer placed his in mine. They clasped together, mingling our blood. I pulled our connected hands forward, allowing the flow of blood to drip over the salt outlines of the sigil.

I was still chanting, my words almost hymnal as I recited them meticulously, putting every fiber of my being into the spell.

It had to fucking work.

It took a moment, long enough for panic to flare, but the salt began to sizzle as our blood activated the intricate loops of the sigil. A soft hum filled the room; a low vibration that resonated in my bones. A glow climbed along the curves of the sigil as the entire emblem came to life, the light pulsating in rhythm with our heartbeats. My chanting never ceased as I called forth the power we needed, the ancient words rolling off my tongue, each syllable infused with intent and desperation.

As the glow from the sigil finally reached the portion that Honor occupied, I felt the first rush of her magic. It was an overwhelming surge that burned through my veins. A sob threatened to pass my lips, but I held it back. I couldn’t risk breaking my concentration. I couldn’t risk Piper stopping this, thinking I couldn’t handle it. Still, it was too much, too fast. The raw, unbridled power of the Source threatened to consume me.

Piper and Ronan had been right.

Honor remained still, unaffected by the channeling. She tilted her head slightly, watching me, her curious expression giving me a sense of peace that she was completely okay. The pain was mine. Not hers.

Lucifer tightened his grip on my hand, his presence a steady anchor in the maelstrom of energy. I connected my eyes with his and saw the concern, but also the confidence. He knew it hurt, but he trusted me at that moment. He knew I could handle it and that gave me the push I needed.

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