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“I am. I almost wasn’t. He…he called me his bride.”
I knew my eyes revealed the same fear I felt yesterday when Danté had me in his arms, leering down at me as if I were the mouse being batted around by the cruel, creepy cat.
She squeezed my hand. “I understand your fear.” She swallowed hard, such deep empathy in her gaze that I wondered what she wasn’t telling me. “But we will do everything we can to keep you safe.”
“But, his bride? I mean, what the hell?” My voice lapsed into cynical humor.
Kat didn’t laugh. “When a Vessel is taken in possession by a high demon, she becomes his—bodyandsoul.”
I shuddered, inhaling deeply and letting it go.
“Thank God Jude came in time yesterday. The demon, Danté, must’ve sensed him coming. He sifted out a second before Jude walked up.”
She gave me a warm smile. “He will lay down his life to keep you from harm. Trust me on that.”
“But why?”
“He has his reasons.”
“Which are?”
“You should ask him.”
I sighed heavily. More evasion. Well, not exactly. Perhaps Kat didn’t really know and was just putting me off.
“Now then. Let’s get started. Give me your hands.”
She held out both hands, palms up. Warmth covered me like lapping waves on a sandy beach. She cast illusion over me. A very different signature than Jude’s iron-plated vise and flaming aura.
“Do you feel it?” asked Kat.
“Yes.”
The sensation of being immersed in warm water was strangely comforting, like a baby in the womb.
“One Flamma’s cast can call to another’s, so I think it best to start this way and see if we can draw yours all the way out. Okay. Close your eyes.”
I did so.
“Now, I need you to imagine the safest you have ever felt, whether it’s a specific memory or a place or a person. Doesn’t matter. Picture it in your mind.”
She paused. I thought for a moment. The safest I’ve ever felt? My mind wandered, then fell upon a repeated memory from childhood.
Mother would come into my room at bedtime and read my favorites by Dr. Seuss. Nestled into the crook of her shoulder with one arm wrapped around me and the other holding a book, I was safe and loved and completely innocent of the encroaching darkness and loss in our future. I could hear her sweet voice crooning to me.“Today, you are you. That is truer than true. There is no one alive who is You-er than You.”
“Do you have it?” asked Kat, startling me from the memory. “No, keep your eyes closed. This is your safe house. When casting illusion, especially to cast a strong shield, you must go to this safe house. That is where you start. Concentrate on the memory now.”
I closed my eyes again. My mother’s golden-blonde hair tickled my cheek as she leaned down. She snuggled in closer and turned the page.
“There are words, chants,” Kat continued in a low voice, “chants for many different things. We hunters have our own for what we do, but there is one for casting illusion, for protection.” She recited the words slowly in Latin, and I translated in my head.Through time and space within your heart, there is a place where one must start, within this seed of hope there lies, a warrior shield to deceive all eyes.
She paused, holding my gaze, then said in a serious tone, “Repeat the words while thinking of your safehouse.”
Thinking of my mother’s lovely pale eyes and warm smile, I repeated the Latin chant line by line as Kat said them too. When I spoke the last line, I felt a concentration of heat pool within me, extending to Kat in a burning flash.
In my mind, I saw a starburst of light, like fragments of the moon, explode into glittering brightness. She gasped and squeezed my hands. My eyes popped open.
“What? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?”
