Page 39 of Amber Gambler

Above us, loudly, Badb pitched her lot in with mine.

“Mr. Collins.” I laid down the ground rules. “No matter what you hear or see, do not interfere.”

A feeble nod was all he gave me, too focused on the water, dread blurring his features.

At the guardrail, I set my first precaution in place. I knotted a rope soaked in rosemary, lavender, and lemon essential oils around my middle then passed the end off to Harrow. A twitch under Matty’s eye was all he showed of his guilt and anger. Even though the Suarezes kept his body in shape through their labor at the shop, he wasn’t strong enough for this. Harrow, who was built wider and in good health, was the better choice.

I wasn’t choosing him over Matty, and my brother knew that, but it hurt him not to make the cut.

Josie looped an arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder, showing her silent support of him.

“Focus on the task,” Carter said softly. “Your family is safe, minus a bruised ego.”

“You don’t understand,” I replied, just as softly. “It kills Matty when he can’t protect me.”

“I understand it will kill you if you can’t put him out of your mind.”

There was no arguing that logic, so I put her advice to work, blocking out everything but the task ahead.

Shouldering my bag, I kept my supplies close as I set up a wide ring of candles with me in their center. To accommodate Harrow, who was required to join me inside the circle lest the rope disrupt my ward, I put out every single candle. I screwed them widdershins an inch into the muck then created a secondary line of protection with raw chunks of black tourmaline, hematite, obsidian, and shungite.

Satisfied with my precautions, I positioned Harrow behind me, indicating he should pivot in place while I walked clockwise around the circle, murmuring a soft chant, igniting the wicks with a silver lighter.

Magic whooshed from the flames, creating an iridescent bubble above us. I knelt and brought out a gold athame, an abalone shell, and a bundle of white sage harvested from Josie’s herb garden. I lit the tip and let the rich smoke unfurl over my head, unspooling in a hazy shroud that obscured everything.

“Here we go,” I warned Harrow, my breath stirring faint eddies.

This was a two-part plan. I had to summon the spirit onto dry land, cutting her off from her element and therefore her power, to then banish her. As with any other fishing expedition, to borrow from Josie, I required a tempting lure. For a vengeful spirit, blood was good. Blood from a victim who had escaped? Irresistible.

Using the athame to slice across my palm, I made a fist and squeezed blood into the abalone shell.

Then I trained my gaze on where I knew the water to be and let the scent do its job.

“Frankie.”

Angling my head toward Harrow while keeping my eyes forward, I demanded, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He shifted his weight, the rope hitching with his movement. “Frankie?”

“Nothing.” I swallowed, convinced my mind was playing tricks on me. “I’m good.”

Time passed slowly in our bubble, but as my muscles began protesting, a splash set my heart racing.

“Audrey?” Mr. Collins called out. “Is that you?”

An unholy screech rent the air, and impact knocked me backward into Harrow’s legs, bowling him over. I had a splitsecond to process a murky brown figure downing my offering with eager slurps before she flung the shell.

The ward.

She had broken the ward.

How?

Water punched me in the face, shooting up my nose and plunging down my throat. Her magic hooked in my lungs, allowing her to drag me. Thrashing in her slimy grip, I gurgled and choked as Harrow threw his weight into holding on to the rope.

“Frankie.”

There it was again.

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