Page 45 of Demon and the Raven

“Oh, and cinnamon,” I told him.

“Your favorite,” he rumbled, arching an eyebrow.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re always putting it on me, and I’m your favorite.”

“No argument there.”

He laughed as I smiled at him, and then he did something odd—instead of dumping the cinnamon into my hands, he shook it over the layered herbs, leaned over, and whispered, “Let’s clean this place up for the highest and best of everyone who calls it home.”

I could only stare at him.

“What?”

“I’m impressed.”

He tipped his head. “I know it’s not the same as⁠—”

I tossed the mixture into the air, and it remained there, floating between us. I did what millions of magicians had done for centuries and dusted off my hands before showing him the fronts and backs. “Ta-da!”

“That’s amazing,” he said, awestruck, smiling at me.

“It is. Look at your magic work.”

“Your magic,” he corrected. “I don’t have any.”

“Some of mine lives in you, and the longer it stays there, the more it becomes yours.”

“No,” he said, but I heard the slight quiver of excitement.

“Yes,” I declared. “Your words activated this,” I said as the ingredients rolled and sifted together, grinding until it all became first a fine powder and then, finally, suspended in the air like a mist encased in a nearly transparent cloud.

“Wow…that’s incredible. And what happens now?” Lorne asked, wide-eyed.

“Now we send it through the house.” I leaned close to the cloud. “As you were bidden, purify all,” I ordered, then blew hard to get it moving.

We watched the mist spark, heard it crackle, and then there was a powerful gust of wind and it expanded once, then again and again, before turning to smoke. It filled the room, then rolled into the hallway, leaving behind a faint scent of flowers.

“Why gardenia?” Lorne asked.

“Is that what you smell?”

“Yeah. You don’t?”

“I smell roses.”

“Well, either is good, I’m guessing.”

I nodded.

“So why didn’t you do this in my old house?”

“Because it’s like when you cleanse something with sage versus burning palo santo,” I explained as the smoke cleared and the kitchen appeared as though it were suddenly brighter, the overhead light hitting every corner of the room. “You take away all the anger and pain, but you strip away all the blessings as well.”

“Same as taking an antibiotic. You kill the bad bacteria that’s makin’ you sick, but you kill the good stuff in your gut as well.”

“Yes. Exactly.”