Page 27 of No Surrender
She took a block of wax and put it in a warmer, standing over it as the heat made it pliable and the light perfume of its scent filled the air, a mix of sandalwood and patchouli. To that, she added a sprinkle of powdered plants known for their protective qualities, including sage, anise, and juniper. The smell relaxed Simon and made him feel safe.
Gabriella murmured an incantation under her breath as she formed the warm wax into cylinders and sank wicks into them.
“You’ll need to let these harden, but burning them will amplify the hex bag magic and create a wider area of safety,” she told Simon.
Next, Gabriella took a journal from the basket and a fountain pen imbued with magic that Simon could feel even at a distance. “I’m going to write a protection spell, and one for clear-seeing—what you called ‘discernment.’ The first will amplify positive energy and provide a safe area. The other will cut through illusions—handy if you want to look at an object and see if it’s malicious.”
“I’m not a witch,” Simon reminded Gabriella. “So I hope they’re simple.”
“Don’t underestimate ‘simple.’ The oldest, most powerful magic is simple at its root. These are created taking your abilities into consideration.”
When she finished writing and handed the paper to Simon, he could have sworn the note nearly sparked with energy.
“Keep this on you at all times,” Gabriella said as she handed over a silver medallion etched with runes. “You’ve heard of the Rule of Three?”
Simon nodded. “Whatever energy you send into the world comes back to you three times over.”
“The rule also is a warning for those who would use magic to do harm. And while the rule is always effective, it can take time to do its work. This medallion makes the reflection more immediate.” She met his gaze. “Clasp the medal in your hand and will your intention. This will send what is directed at you back to its source.”
“The charms will keep you and a few friendssafer,but they can’t protect you from everything,” Gabriella warned. “The spells should serve your purpose. Be careful, Simon. Old evil and dark magics do not give way easily.”
Simon thanked her and paid for the items. “Keep an ear out, please, in case you hear anything related to the cases. It’s a long shot, but—”
Gabriella nodded. “I will check with my sources. Those lost souls deserve to find rest.”
Simon found several customers browsing in Grand Strand Ghost Tours when he arrived. He stood back, watching Pete do a great job answering questions and making suggestions. Pete had gained a lot of skill and confidence since he started working at the store, and his costumed and theatrical ghost tours were popular with tourists who wanted something a bit more “lively” than Simon’s own historical presentations.
He went into the office and left the bag from the botanica on his desk while Pete finished ringing up the purchases. Simon came out carrying a cup of coffee for each of them, and Pete groaned in exaggerated bliss when he took the mug and cradled it between his hands.
“Bless you. Every time I headed for the kitchen, someone came in. I know that’s a good problem to have, but I’m caffeine deprived!”
Simon gave Pete a short recap of what he’d learned. “Did I miss anything here?”
Pete took another sip of coffee. “Your reporter friend showed up. Walt. He didn’t come inside, but the wards didn’t keep him away from the door like it did the others.”
Simon frowned. He’d need to think about what that meant since the wards didn’t consider Walt to be a threat. “What did he want?”
Pete set his mug aside. “I went out to him since he gestured through the window that he wanted to tell me something.” He rolled his eyes. “I was sorta afraid he might break into interpretive dance.”
“It’s the boardwalk. No one would notice.”
“You might be right about that,” Pete replied with a grin. “But I spared us all finding out. When Walt realized you weren’t here, he gave me this for you.” Pete handed Simon a folded piece of paper. “Said you should call him if you want details.”
Simon unfolded the note and read it aloud. “I found a man who covered the crime beat for the local newspaper when the disappearances happened. He’s old but sharp. Might still have his notes from back in the day. If you want to meet him, call me, and I can arrange it.” Walt had scrawled his number underneath the message.
“You gonna go see him?”
Simon shook his head. “Not today. I’ll call to make an appointment for tomorrow. I need to talk to some dead people first.”
“Alrighty then. I’ll cover the front, and you chat up the Caspers.”
Simon stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab a bottle of water and an energy bar for after his séance. He thought about going up to the small apartment over the shop for privacy but decided that if the effort kicked his ass, he wanted Pete close enough to help. An intense session with spirits could leave Simon drained or unconscious, which was why Vic wanted to make sure Simon wasn’t alone when he called the ghosts.
The office energy felt wrong for this kind of working, so Simon closed the door between the shop and the kitchen and settled at the table. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, centering himself and opening his gift.
“Hey, Dante—are you there? I need your help.” Normally Simon would have called to a spirit more formally, but Dante was his ancestor and showed up on a fairly regular basis. He and Dante had teamed up on several cases, and Simon had used his mediumship to allow Dante to inhabit his body for short periods. Sometimes, the ghost dropped by just to hang out.
Simon waited, unsure exactly where ghosts went in between appearances and how his call traveled between the worlds of the living and dead. When the temperature plummeted in the small kitchen, and Simon felt the hair on his arms stand up, he knew Dante had heard him.
