Page 126 of A Witch-ish Guide to Protectors and Pendulums

“Because I screwed up.”

“How? You did exactly what you needed to do.”

“Then why did he get away?”

“Because he knew he was coming here. You didn’t.”

Well, it was an answer—maybe not a good one or one I liked, but it answered some questions.

“You ruined your clothes again,” I said dryly, waving my hand in the air to manifest him simple jeans, a T-shirt, and Converse. I didn’t have it in me to be more creative. As we made our way back to Sim and Madigan, we stepped in puddles of demon. Lucky us, we’d gotten there right before the bloodydebris turned to ash, blowing away on the wind. I manifested joggers and a T-shirt for Madigan. They flitted to the ground next to my brother, who stood between us and Madi, blocking her naked form. He nodded his thanks in passing. Connor kept his head turned away, no doubt not wanting to see his sisterau naturel.

When we reached the door, I unlocked it, letting us inside the archives. Madigan was the last to enter, pulling the door shut again, and I locked it.

“That’s a badass power you’ve got, brother,” I said to Sim.

He smiled. He looked like me when he smiled. “It’s been getting stronger.” Simeon flicked his hand in the air and the sound of thunder rumbling overhead filled the stone stairwell with us.

My eyes bugged. “You can control the weather?”

“At least we’ll always have good beach days,” he replied, shrugging. Shrugging, my ass. That was huge. He could control weather and plants. Somehow, we needed to use this to our advantage because Beetle had skipped out before seeing Sim’s biggest power-up.

“Achievement unlocked,” Connor teased.

“I’m thinking of planning a BBQ in January,” Madigan said while smirking. “Mom will trip.”

Connor threw his head back, laughing.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

We let Sim and Madigan get settled and have something to eat before getting down to the heavy. “Can I see the book?” I asked my brother.

He gave a quick nod, unclasping the buckles from the satchel he wore. After unzipping the top, he reached inside, pulling the small, leather-bound book out and setting it on the table. I stood to retrieve my backpack. When I rejoined them at the table, I had the grimoire in hand.

“May I?” Sim asked.

“Please.”

Ever-so-gently, he picked it up like he thought it was fragile, then opened the book. His eyes grew as he read the names of all our cousins, and reverently ran his finger down the page. When he flipped to the next, new pages had been added. They gave detailed diagrams of spells from Grandma Lilith.

Spells for our cousins to try. Ideas for me to manifest.

“Open your book,” I said and Sim opened it. I manifested a pot with dirt. “Touch the plant and touch the dirt.” He did as asked and I told the dried, pressed plant to grow in the pot. Astrong stalk shot up out of the pot with vines winding around it like a slithering snake. Beautifully vibrant, blood-red flowers, the likes of which I’d never seen before, blossomed in front of our eyes. Spiky thorns protruded from the stalk.

“What is it?” Madigan asked.

Words appeared over the dried plant in the book: The Death Bloom.

“Death Bloom?” I asked.

My brother read on. “It looks like if the thorns scratch the skin, it poisons the person. Lesions will bubble up over their body and the pain is so intense, it drops the person where they stand.”

“Will it kill them?” I asked.

“In larger doses. But we could use this to quell the uprising of humans out there.”

Exactly my thought.

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