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He looks at me, a little disgusted. “Sorry if I don’t think this occult bullshit is fun.”
While the others talk, I watch him, wondering…
We met in an occult shop six months ago. He was into it then.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just a little crowded in here.”
Margie hops up to grab another seltzer and comes around to our side and hands Dylan another beer before going back to her side.
I don’t stop him from taking a long swig from the bottle. If the ingredients I added to the beer are making him like this, there won’t be enough time for more of it to make him worse.
The sun has set outside,but the candles keep the room bright with a warm haze.
The house was never hooked up to the power grid, but Julia’s murderer had installed several electric fixtures before she killed him. The antique bulbs in them are dark… for the moment.
My friends look at them with suspicion now.
“Ready?” I ask.
“No.” Margie says, chewing on her thumb. Everyone else—except Dylan—says yes.
The answer has to be yes.
I have to finish the spell that will fix what’s broken with Dylan.
He’ll stop doing things like sitting too close, he’ll stop being a jerk to other people when he thinks I’m paying too much attention to them, and he’ll go back to just being my friend. A few more words, and no more romantic feelings ever again.
I strike a long match and light the candle in front of me, passing it around the circle for each of them to light a candle of their own.
And once it’s back to me, I snuff it in one of the piles of sand inside the circle and sit up straighter.
The circle, pentacle, and borrowed bits of ouija trappings won’t do anything. It’s all just a show piece for our audience.
The conjuror’s trick. Making everyone look at what Julia’s doing while I do the real magic on Dylan.
Closing my eyes, I set my hands on my knees, palms turned upward.
And flinch when Dylan’s hand takes mine. I pull my hand back from his grip.
“It’s not a hand holding kind of spell,” I say quietly, but not quietly enough.
Parry snorts into his soda can and Dylan scowls. First at Parry, then at me.
“Sorry.” I am going to be so happy when this spell is over and things are easy again.
Returning to my pose, I start to speak the fake incantation.
Half of the Latin is nonsense, and as the lights flicker, I know Julia’s laughing at me.
“Ignis ardeat.” I feel the flames jump and hear the antique bulbs crackle as I grab more random words that will sound like something they’d expect in a summoning. “Salire leporem et natare anguis.”
Julia throws the front door open and the wind moans through the house.
Our audience makes the appropriate sounds: screams and a spooked “oh!” or two. Even one appreciative “oooo” from Jonas on my left.
I open my eyes and see Rose has all but crawled into Parry’s lap.
