I carved up the surface of the candle, digging in sigils, infusing everything with my own intention - I challenged all my anger, all my thoughts of destruction, into those two small candles. And once I was entirely satisfied, I created three deep, thin holes through the candle itself, and filled them with the oil, sprinkling some on the surface of the candle for good measure.
I placed the candles on the bathroom vanity, allowing the enormous mirror behind the sink to reflect the entire process, multiplying its effect. Once I had dressed the counter in coarse salt and a shot of whiskey, effectively making it my altar, I turned to find Dimitri lingering behind me, wanting to be present, but at the same time not knowing how everything worked. Arching a brow at him, I asked, "Are you ready?"
And in typical Dimitri fashion, he grunted his response. Without giving him further opportunity to doubt me, I pulled a thin bladed knife from my case. To the untrained eye, it looked more like a letter opener - it even had the Club logo stamped upon the hilt, but that was the intention - should someone find this case and not be associated with the Club, every single item could be explained away. But someone like me was so far from suspicion it was almost laughable.
Before I could move the blade any further, Dimitri gripped my wrist, holding me in place. "You're going to cut yourself?" He seethed, and I tried not to roll my eyes, but honestly, he made it more and more difficult for me to actually conduct my spellwork.
"I didn't take you to be the kind of person who was afraid of a little blood," my voice was soft as I pulled my hand free from his hold.
He gritted his jaw, drowning in his need to control. His green eyes dilated at the sight of what I was doing, and still I held his stare as I dug the knife into the pad of my thumb, the blood flowing freely. I had done this countless times before, and yet this time it seemed, somehow, more intimate. I was more aware of the mechanisms of my work with Dimitri’s green eyes pinning me on the spot. I knew the exact pressure to apply to achieve a shallow cut, but still maintain a decent blood flow. I squeezed the pad of my thumb over the two candles, watching my essence drip down, mixing in with the intention oil I had just applied. Although to say that they mixed would be inaccurate, rather the two liquids shared a surface, pooling in different directions to each other.
Once I was satisfied that enough blood had been dribbled across these candles, I licked my thumb, glancing back up at Dimitri. The tick in his jaw seemed to be throbbing the more he gritted his teeth, his eyes watching my tongue lick the small droplets of blood that remained there. I couldn't deal with him and his judgement right now, so instead, I shut my eyes, refusing to look at him, but the image of his stare was still imprinted freshly on my brain
And then I chanted. It was a different incantation to the one I did a few nights ago, but always to Isis.
Mother of creation, I call.
Lady of many names, I call.
Womb mother, I call.
Aset, I call.
Isis, I call
The air heated around us, scalding my face and I heard Dimitri inhale audibly. I pressed on, despite the shift in energy.
Turn those around who have done us wrong.
Give them pain for their song
For each mark against us, give them three
And when it's done, set them free
The flames jumped erratically on the counter, and still I pushed through, moving my head only slightly to avoid having my eyebrows singed. I pushed on, invoking Isis with all the intention of my soul, dribbling my very essence into the spell. I didn’t know if it would work - if it would be enough, but I had to try.
Mother of creation
Heed my call
Lady of many names
Do thy will
Womb mother
I will pay the price
Aset
Blood, blood, blood
Isis
Curse them thrice
My eyes wretched open and I watched the flames dance before me. I found Dimitri’s gaze in the mirror. He stood behind me, arms crossed, feet wide apart, large and imposing. A defensive position if I ever saw one.