I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to defend Charl, and yet I still replied, “I think he might be going through an episode.”
An episode - as if an episode of dipping into the madness was excuse enough to put any of us in this kind of danger.
I imagined Zoey’s caramel face with her big, brown, trusting eyes, scrunching up into a frown and my heart ached. I didn’t want her losing the comforts of the Club because Charl was being callous with me. My issues with Charl shouldn’t affect anyone else - and besides, I would have to give up this gig soon anyway, so there was no point in rocking the boat.
“Okay, so how do I counter this spell without having to offer up a crowd of people as sacrifice?”
“Um….” she hesitated, “I need to call grams.”
She sounded glum, and I couldn’t blame her. I had no idea how she was going to explain this one away and still gain the information needed.
“Should I wish you luck?” I offered, only half joking.
“No, but when Charl comes out of his episode, I’ll help you pin him down and beat him up.”
I chuckled, “I may just pay to see that.”
“Cor, you know that if I wasn’t stuck on my own job, I’d come straight there as a reinforcement.”
“I know,” I replied grimly.
We hung up, leaving me no closer to a solution. I prayed that Zoey’s grandmother would come through.
I kept myself occupied for the rest of the day by restocking my briefcase, scurrying back and forth to the large kitchen, refilling the herbs and spices that were missing after my big spell haul for protection the other night. Thankfully, I didn’t run into Dimitri - after last night, I was even more confused when it came to him. I mean, he was still a jackass, but somehow the thought of walking out on this job - on him - left me unsettled.
When evening crept upon me, my phone finally flashed with a notification from Zoey - her grandmother came through.
Zoey: Grams says that the only way to counter such a sacrifice is by using yourself.
I blinked. What the hell? I typed out my response without even reading it though.
Corinne: Myself? As in, I need to sacrifice myself?
Hell. Fucking. No.
A string of laughing emojis came through. Glad she found this amusing.
Zoey:No, you need to use your own blood - your own essence.
I re-read her message a few times. Surely it couldn’t be that simple.
Corinne: How much blood?
There had to be a catch. Maybe I had to almost drain myself or something insane - sometimes Magick could be nuanced that way.
Zoey: A couple of drops should do it.
I thanked her and bid her goodnight - I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Darkness filtered into my room, the crescent moon peeking out behind the clouds. I stood in my bedroom, my feet bare as I wriggled my toes in and out of the plush carpet, and thought. I twirled around the room, looking for something. It was the kind of something that you weren’t certain of, but once you saw it, then you knew that that was what you needed all along. I stretched out my senses, seeking my answer. It came in the form of two white tealight candles. I marched towards my suitcase and yanked out the candles that I knew I needed.
“You’re going to counter what that Voodoo bitch has done with two little candles?” Dimitri loomed in the doorway, imposing and insistent on watching my every action when it came to undoing what Sergei and the Priestess had done to him. I couldn’t blame him - not after I had failed to pick up on Olek being the sacrifice Sergei needed to activate his spell. They were probably laughing at how gullible we were. Even still, Dimitri’s presence unnerved me. I was all too aware of his tall frame, the way his shoulders seemed to stretch out every shirt. I found myself looking for the merest hint of his tattoos. Such an obsession couldn’t be healthy.
“I am going to counter what that Priestess did with these two little candles,” I mimicked, “and some blood.” I had the overwhelming urge to stick my tongue out at him, but I knew that would only solidify his childish view of me.
The various expressions that flitted across Dimitri's face were almost comical, until he finally settled on the scowl he was so notorious for. He probably thought I was being facetious, pulling his leg in some way. Ignoring him, I marched to the bathroom with my spell-kit in tow.
For this, I would use Zoey's Intention Oils. She was renowned for her Intention Oils within the Club, taking our requests in with grace on each new and full moon respectively. Intention Oils could make all the difference in the success of a spell - the right Intention Oil dabbed on a crappy candle could still seek results, but the only value a beautiful candle without any intention holds would be aesthetic. I was running low on her stock, which is why I sometimes relied on my own, but it went without saying that hers were just better - we all had different gifts, and Intention Oils were infused with plants and herbs, so it was no surprise that Zoey seemed to dominate that talent within the Club.