Page 5 of Carnal Magic
Maybe a ghostly ink trail would appear before my very eyes…
Or droplets of my blood might be required to reveal the magic.
Or…
Panting softly, I stared at the first blank page until my eyes crossed.
But nothing happened.
* * *
Eyes aching with strain,I stumbled to the lower bedroom, Martha’s room, too tired to even think about how weird it might be to sleep in my grandmother’s bed. Let alone what she might have done in this bed decades ago.
I should have known nothing would happen. I didn’t have magical powers. I never had. I could make a perfectly acceptable tea blend or distill a nice infused oil, but there was nothing special about what I did. Any herbalist could do the same.
My eyes burned, and I resisted the urge to cry. Mostly I was embarrassed. I felt stupid that I’d actually believed Martha’s words would shimmer into life as I read the journal like some fucking Harry Potter movie. So fucking stupid.
Headache throbbed in both of my temples. I popped a couple of ibuprofen and lay down on the huge bed without bothering to change my clothes. After driving for hours, I needed to rest. But I also needed to decide what to do. I’d only brought a few changes of clothes because I didn’t intend to stay. Surely I wasn’t planning to move here. To this simple cabin, where the nearest town was barely a spot on the map and still a twenty-minute drive down twisty roads.
I closed my eyes, sinking deeper into the luxuriously soft mattress. Fluffy down pillows and silky sheets. I loved my bed at home, but this was like staying at a high-quality hotel.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but a woman sat on the edge of the bed.
She was dressed in one of the soft, flowing gowns in the armoire. Lavender with white lace and ribbons trailing from the bodice. Modest—but also incredibly sexy. The kind of gown that could be scandalous as soon as she loosened the ties. It didn’t seem weird at all for such an older lady to wear such a nightgown. She looked beautiful. Like Mama, if she’d lived to be sixty or older. Like me, I realized, seeing the same cheekbones and nose as my own. Silvery white hair flowed down her back and around her shoulders like silken moonlight. Her eyes gleamed like amethyst jewels. Surely not her true eye color.
“Martha?” I whispered groggily. “Great Grandma?”
“Martha’s just fine.” She laughed and patted the back of my hand. “My eyes were plain old brown in life, and my hair dingy white rather than pure silver. But here, now, I can look exactly as I please. Ask your questions, child.”
So many questions to choose from. “You said in the letter that ‘Her blood still runs pure and strong in our veins.’ Whose blood?”
“An ancient goddess of this land, so old that no one even knows Her true name.”
I frowned. “Gaia? The Earth Mother?”
“Not exactly, but also yes. It’s difficult to explain. Everything has a spirit, an energy associated with it. All energy comes from Source. But through creation as generation after generation passes, some of that energy takes on personalities and aspects of the land and people who’ve lived there. We’re known as Redwine because Her blood flowed red like wine in our family line.”
I cringed. “Like murder and violence?”
Martha shook her head. “I don’t think so, though it’s possible. I choose to believe someone saw magma cracking the earth, pushing up these mountains and heating the natural springs into the famous steaming pools that gave Hot Springs its name.”
Ah. That made a lot of sense and was pretty cool too. I narrowed my eyes, watching her closely. “I didn’t see anything in the journal except field notes.”
Martha laughed softly. “Be patient, child. Let the magic work. It won’t happen overnight. I will warn you, though. If you choose to leave the mountain, the magic will never come. The book—and you—both must be here for the truth to reveal itself to you. It’s tied to the land itself.”
So if I went home… I would never know.
“Rebekah, my daughter, left and never returned. Your mother never stepped foot on Redwine land. The magic has lain dormant for a very long time, but it’ll wake for you if you decide to stay. I must warn you, though. This life is certainly not for everyone. Carnal magic is not for the weak or faint of heart.”
Carnal magic. The very words made my blood resonate in my veins.
Martha was gone and I lay alone in the bed. My heart thudded with a slow, heavy pulse that spread liquid fire through my body. My nipples hardened. A deep, rhythmic throb echoed through my groin. A wisp of touch glided over my skin. My body tightened with anticipation. I hadn’t climaxed in a while. Years. Decades. Centuries.
I ran barefoot through the dark, tangled woods, but I wasn’t afraid. The land celebrated my return. Trees whispered eager greetings to me in the soft breeze. The ground rumbled with growing exaltation with every stroke of my feet. I didn’t need a map or path. My body knew exactly where it was, as if all the Redwine women before me had etched the memory into my DNA.
I climbed over rocky terrain, panting with my eagerness. My fingers, feet, and knees bled from the trek. My offering to the land, to the goddess who’d founded my family line. I was almost there. I could feel it calling to me. Him. No, them. So many. Deep rumbling bass, so low that my ears couldn’t hear them, though I felt the resonance in my bones. So close.
Scrambling up over the last outcropping, I felt the temperature rise, the air warm and humid from the hot water bubbling up from the earth. Rocks warmed beneath my feet. Water bubbled up from the earth, forming a pool against a sheer cliff that rose like a dark alien city against the sky. Not a cave, since I could still see a sprinkling of stars overhead, but it was dark and sheltered like a secret grotto in the heart of the mountain.
