Page 35 of Obsession

I’m stuck inside a small, dark space. The only sound is the thudding beat of heart and my heavy breathing. “Somebody help me!” I yell, but it only echoes back the sound of my own scared voice. When the echo fades, I hear something. A muffled sound. “Hello?” I whisper, but only eerie silence answers me.

Waking with a start, I reach underneath my pillow. Grandma’s herb sachet is still there, but it obviously didn’t do the trick. I grab a notebook and pen, journaling all the areas in my life that I might be feeling stuck. And I’m stuck, because I can’t think of any.

Instead, I take a few moments to sketch out the dream design of my apartment. I’m no architect, but I do know what I want. And privacy is king in my queendom.

Trudging to the kitchen, I brew a pot of coffee. Elvis walks up beside me. “Don’t even start. I’m tired and grumpy,” I warn him. He just hisses at me. “Back at you.” I down a cup of coffee and go take a shower.

Damion texts me a bit later, letting me know Delilah died in a car accident not long after the shit hit the fan with the coven. He's going to find her probate file, but it might take some time. The file is archived, so he’ll have to sweet talk one of the clerks to find it for him. I have no doubt he’ll be able to sweet talk one of the clerks to do just about anything. I’m in too pissy of a mood to be jealous about it.

Grabbing Mama’s book of shadows, I search for a spell I noticed the other day. A different spell catches my attention.

Dark dreams of endless fright.

Dreams so dark they extinguish the light.

To my enemy these nightmares torment a fortnight.

And it be so my enemy smite.

This spell calls for a black candle, dragon’s blood, and the enemy’s personal item. Mama made a note that blood or hair works best, but an object will also work.

Are Mama’s dark magic ways coming back to bite me? Does that explain my dreams? If so, it seems unfair, but I guess I’ll just have to take that up with the karma police. Who knows, maybe there is an Angel of Karma. Hopefully, he has a better attitude than another angelic police officer I know.

I keep flipping until I find the sweet dreams spell that I saw the other day.

Moon and stars shining bright.

Banish all fear and fright.

Darkness replaced by your light.

Nightmares cease tonight.

Best performed on a full moon with no cloud coverage but can be cast anytime.

I follow the instructions, leaving a cut lemon and the knife on my bedside table. Placing a hand mirror under my pillow, I write the spell down in my own book of shadows—a journal with a vanilla ice cream cone and rainbow sprinkles on the cover. It’s an inside joke between me and the Universe.

My phone chimes and I grab it.

Damion: We’re going to dinner with my father tonight.

Me: I’m rather put out with demanding demons. Why does your father want to see us?

Please don’t say he wants a status update on Phenex. Status update on Phenex—he’s still stuck in the bowl. The white roses don’t seem to be doing the trick, but they still need to dry out a few days before I disturb the circle.

Wait, Phenex is stuck in the bowl. Stuck. Opening my closet door, I say, “Look demon, if you’re sending me that dream, knock it off if you want me to help you.” My threat is interrupted when my phone chimes.

Damion: If my wanton witch needs more groveling, then just say so.

I mean, I’m certainly not opposed to it.

Damion: Zazel says to put Phenex on hold because he has a new project.

Me: The Mystery Gang is on the case!

Damion: We’re not, and I’ll pick you up at seven.

Me: But you admit we’re the Mystery Gang.

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