Page 67 of Spelling Disaster

They seem to get thicker the longer she chants and I have to step back before they wrap aroundmyankles and legs.

“Mom, don’t do it!” I lose my voice, power making it hard to draw in a breath. My throat constricts and I collapse to the ground. Magic pulsates up and around me, leaving me unable to do anything except gawk in horror as the Horned God steps out of the hollow tree trunk with a loud shriek designed to rattle the earth. Dirt erupts from between his legs, each of them covered in fur and ending in cloven hooves.

His body unfolds, muscles unnaturally swollen and his mask no longer that. The creepy animalistic features of the mask are now his face, the man beneath it lost to the swirling power he’d stolen.

Distorted cheekbones jut out from his face, gleaming canines lengthening into fangs as his lips peel back from his mouth. Horns curl out of the back of his head and grow, shifting into points that drip moss. His eyes are black, wicked, and somehow glowing in the lack of light.

No longer a man but a demon carved from his own selfishness.

The scent of smoke fills my nostrils and once again I’m back at the bonfire, the people no longer dancing around the flames but forced to move. Forced to keep moving in supplication to him as he drains them of everything they have to give.

They won’t stop until they’re dead.

They were too late to stop the rogue Cleric before he decided to step out of his lane. Too late to do anything except bow to his wishes. Just like I’m too late to stop him now.

In a single sudden shifting movement, somehow terrifyingly loud, the coven, every single member, turns to me at the same time and stares. Their eyes are glazed over, as eerie a sight as the monstrous god rising out of nothingness, out of nature, and towering over the crouched figure of Mom.

Through it all she’s still chanting. Still laying the foundation for thisthing’sreign in this world after being banished for so long. Except she’s not the Cleric he wants. Not by a long shot. Her time has ended and mine is just beginning. Or about to.

Wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t interrupted the ascension ceremony and interrupted his plans for me.

A bright red tongue slips out to slick over those canines.

I hear his voice inside my head, not even remotely human anymore.

Bring her to me.

ChapterTwenty-Two

Ihear his voice in my head in a bastardized version of the connection I share with Gus. I grind my teeth to force out the Horned God, bending over at the waist with my hands over my ears like it will somehow keep him out.

It does not.

The tone is so powerful, so ancient, I drop to my knees Even when I know the creature in front of me used to be a man I can’t stop the fear, the realization that this is a beast so much greater than anything else in this world. Once, he was a flesh-and-blood witch with power of his own, before he stole from others and it twisted him.

Now he is the embodiment of our downfall, and I’m the one who brought him here.

Those bodies making up the outer ring of the coven all take a step as one toward me, the sound of their feet against the ground a low drumbeat. One right after the other.

It shoots straight through me and spurs me into action like nothing else can. I lose sight of Mom, vowing to come back to her later, to help if I can.

If.

With a yelp I stand, sprinting in the opposite direction with the weight of too many eyes on my back.

No way in hell I’m letting them catch me!

I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know they’re giving chase. Under his spell, they have no choice but to obey his command to retrieve me. And if the Horned God wants me then they’ll do whatever it takes to deliver his prize.

My feet pound the pavement. Where’s the best place for me to run? To hide? What do I have with me that I can use to buy time?

There has to be something in my pack to put an end to this.

I have crystals and my magic talismans, including an Evil Eye to absorb negativity, but those aren’t going to be enough to act as a defense and slow the coven members down. Anything stronger runs the risk of killing them, though.

It’s a hard line to toe.

“Yasmine.”

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