A Glow of Stars & Dusk by Eve L. Mitchell

We travelled for a while longer.I wasn’t sure for how long, because it seemed that time and speed were “relative” as Pen had suggested. Sam carried me easily, and I think I maybe dropped off and slept in his arms, because when I felt myself being laid down, I was a bit reluctant to let go of him as sleep was still a heavy blanket clinging to me.

“Where are we?” I asked tiredly as I went to sit up. Sam’s hand pushed me gently back onto the bed, and I turned my head into a soft pillow. “A hotel?” My eyes were already closing again.

“Sleep more, witch, you’ll need your energy,” was his soft reply, and I felt the brush against my forehead as either he or Chaz cast the sleeping spell.

When I woke the second time, I was in my bed at home. I know that wasn’t where I had been when Sam put me down, I would’ve recognised my own pillows anywhere and my bed. Daylight streamed through my closed bedroom curtains, and I took a moment before I swung my legs over the bed to go face them. I had no doubt they were still here—they wouldn’t leave me without the blood or the spell. When I was on my feet, I looked down at myself in surprise. I was in my flannel pyjama bottoms and my long-sleeved, tartan teddy, grey pyjama top. The pyjama top did not match the bottoms, but they were both mine and they were clean.

The problem I had was not the fact that I was in mismatched jammies, it was who had put me in the pyjamas.

They wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. I fumed silently for a moment.

He so bloody would.

I crossed the floor, and taking a deep breath before I opened it, I prepared to do battle. My cottage was a two bed, one-level, stone-built cottage with a slate roof. I had two reception rooms, basically a living room and a small dining room, and a separate kitchen. It was traditionally a one bed cottage but had an extension with a second bedroom with an en suite shower room added on about thirty years ago. The extension was older than me, but it served its purpose, and dad had upgraded the bathroom about ten years ago. The main bathroom was small, with a three-piece suite and a shower over the bath. I hesitated at the door to the bathroom because I could hear a low baritone singing over the sound of the shower running.

The thought of a naked demon showering in my bathroom made me hesitate for all the wrong reasons. I wasn’t aghast that someone was taking liberties with my hot running water, I was considering which naked demon was in my bathroom, and my imagination was too busy trying to force images of a naked Sam into my brain.

Sam singing? No, it didn’t make sense in my head, and I stopped lingering outside my own bathroom door like a complete perv. My kitchen was at the back of the cottage, and I headed to it on quiet feet. I heard the low murmurings and contemplated eavesdropping, but they went silent, and Ros’s head stuck out the kitchen door suddenly as he looked at me.

“You’re awake,” he said as he ran his eyes over me, and I saw his eyebrows rise in surprise as he took in my attire. Ros was not the one who changed my clothes.

“Have I been asleep long?” I asked him calmly. I felt well-rested, and it wasn’t like when they had used the spell on me before; I actually felt like I had enjoyed a good sleep.

“Come in,” Ros answered instead as he held the door open for me. It wasn’t lost on me that he was inviting me into my own kitchen. For a cottage, Gran had a good-sized kitchen, and there was room for a kitchen table, which four demons were currently sitting around whilst Pen sat easily up on the kitchen counter beside the kettle.

“Making yourselves at home?” I asked as I avoided Sam’s watchful gaze. Chaz was missing; it made sense that he would be the nice singer. A sudden image of Chaz in the shower made me flush, and I kept my head down as I made my way to the kettle.

“There’s no coffee pot,” Zel told me grumpily. “I knew you would be one of the weird ones who didn’t drink coffee.”

“Morning to you too, sunshine,” I said as I reached the cupboard above the kettle and pulled out my instant coffee jar. I filled the kettle, and in the adjacent cupboard, I considered my mug collection, hoping I had seven. I could just make it, but I wasn’t sure who should receive the unicorn farting rainbow mug. Was I brave enough?

There was silence as I went about the simple routine of making coffee, and I could feel all of them watching me. My kettle just made seven mugs of coffee, and I put the milk in its container on the table. “Excuse the crystal jug,” I muttered self-consciously. I heard a snort of amusement and knew at least one of them got my sarcasm.

“You made coffee from powder?” Zel asked dubiously, and for that insult to my americano instant coffee, I awarded him with the unicorn mug.

His look was worth it, and I smiled pleasantly as he sniffed the coffee. “If you don’t like it, put milk in it.”

“I haven’t had it this way before,” Der said as he took a cautious sip. He hesitated and then made a grimace as he reached for the milk. “Maybe try this.”

Sam drank his wordlessly, black. Obviously. His green eyes fixed on me as he drank, and I wondered if he knew how unnerving it was.

“You okay?” I asked as I stared into the hallway over his shoulder.

“Where were you when your powers were bound?” he asked me.

“I wasn’t anywhere, my powers haven’t been bound, simply because I have no powers.” I took a drink of my own coffee and winced as it burnt my tongue. I cast a quick glance at the almost empty cups of the others and couldn’t fathom how they were drinking it.

“We could torture her?” Zel asked as he glared at his mug like it was personally offending him.

“You mean make her drink this?” Pen asked as he set his coffee aside. “I’ve drunk better in hell.”

“No one’s asking you to stay here,” I reminded him as I stood with my back to the sink, facing the room, but my head was down as I stared at my coffee. I heard Zel snort, and I looked up ready to growl at him when Sam caught my attention. He always caught my attention, why was that?

“Your powers have been bound.” His stare was hard, and his face was set in that “no nonsense” mask he wore so well. “When you recklessly went out into the fog and were attacked, the bonds that tie them cracked. You shone like a beacon of light in the fog. When you pulled the dead to you in a fit of ill temper, you broke them more. You need to return to the source of where they were bound so we can break them completely.”

“I can’t help you,” I told him defiantly. I was not taking six demons to my mum and dad’s house to ask dad if he did something other than tell me to close my eyes when I saw dead people. My dad would have them arrested and me back living at home before I would be able to finish the sentence. My dad was just under six foot, broad and an ex-policeman. You did not mess with my dad, and you definitely didn’t mess with his daughter.

“Leave us,” Sam said quietly, and with a sigh I placed my mug on the counter and started to walk out of my kitchen. I heard him give a long sigh. “Not you,” he growled. I looked at him quickly and realised Ros was grinning as he stood up, as was Der. Pen patted my shoulder as he passed me with a low chuckle.

I stood awkwardly as they filed out of the kitchen, and I realised Zel wasn’t moving. I flicked my eyes to Sam in question, but he was only looking at me.

“He gets to stay?” I asked. I had a bad feeling about this.

“Where else would I be?” Zel asked as he leaned back in his seat and stretched out his arms. I watched the muscles flex, and a tingle of fear ran down my back.

“Sam?” I asked, and I didn’t care how much pleading was in my tone.

Sam’s eyes narrowed slightly before he looked to Zel. “Brother.”

Zel’s head snapped to Sam in surprise. “Really?”

“Brief Chaz,” Sam said as he continued to hold my look, his mouth tightening with displeasure when I failed to hide my obvious relief.

Zel stood stiffly, and his glare was deadly. Well, I wasn’t on his Christmas card list anyway, but the slamming of the kitchen door still made me flinch.

“I don’t think he’s a fan,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest. I went back to my spot at the sink.

“Sit.”

“I’m okay here.” I was too nervous. I had no reason to be nervous. This was my house.

The chair scraped back over the vinyl floor, and then I was scooped up in his arms and carried to the table. Which was quite frankly overkill. He took two steps and he was at the sink, another two steps back and he was at the table.

“Was that necessary?” I mumbled as he plopped me down on a chair.

“You’re obstinate.”

“I’m obstinate?”I asked him in surprise. “Are you kidding? Have you met you?”

“You also deflect when you’re uncomfortable.” Sam’s steady green-eyed perusal was unnerving.

“No, I don’t.” I glared at the tabletop.

“And you avoid eye contact when you don’t like what you’re hearing.”

My head lifted, and I glared at him. Cocky bastard. “Anything else?” I snapped.

“You snore.”

“I beg your pardon?” The complete audacity!

“You asked.” Sam shrugged as he finished the coffee in the mug. I noticed it wasn’t the one I gave him.

“Are you just drinking everyone’s coffee?” I asked as I looked around the table.

“It tastes like tar, but I’m thirsty.”

“There’s water in the tap.”

“The water has too many pollutants.” Sam held his hand up when I went to speak. “We’re not used to it; it’s fine for you, but you’re human.”

“I used the water to make the coffee,” I told him stupidly.

“Boiled water gets rid of the impurities.”

I stood and went to the fridge and retrieved two bottles of spring water. Wordlessly, I handed him one, and he took it almost cautiously. Twisting the cap off, I watched him sniff the water, and then with a careful look towards me, he took a drink. I saw his surprise register, and then he tilted his head back and drank more of it down.

“Better?” I asked him quietly as I opened my own.

“The plastic taste is unwelcome, but the water is better.” Sam crushed the now empty bottle between his strong fingers.

“You’re welcome,” I snarked at him.

“Deflecting again.”

Remembering his earlier comments, I rubbed my hands over my face in exasperation. “What am I possibly deflecting about? Water and your lack of manners?”

“You’ve slept for twelve hours,” Sam told me.

And I was the one who deflected. Sure. “You’re a complete hypocrite.” I shook my head as I took another drink, and then I realised what he said. “Twelve hours?”

“Yes.” He nodded as he looked out the kitchen window. “You summoned a demon army, it exhausted you.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I muttered defensively.

“You are untaught.” Sam considered me as he spoke. “Your power is bound, it may be that your skill is also bound.”

“My skill?” I asked curiously. “My skill is being a clairvoyant.”

He frowned at me, and I noticed that when he frowned, he looked even more attractive. How was that possible? “We already had this discussion.”

“No, you and Pen had a discussion. I fell asleep, bored.”

“You fell asleep, crying,” Sam scolded me. “If you can take us to where your powers were bound, I can lift the binding. It is not here. We thought it may be.”

“I don’t think I can help you.”

Sam moved in his chair and then handed me the weathered parchment. “Read it.”

“Do I have to touch it, it looks…wrinkly?” I asked as I shied away from the offending spell. It was unfortunate that as I spoke, that’s when Chaz walked into the kitchen. He stopped dead with a surprised look and then turned and walked right back out again. “He really is forming an unfortunate opinion about me,” I said as I bit my lip to stop from laughing.

Sam’s mouth curled up in an almost smile in agreement as he reluctantly gave a soft chuckle. “Yes, you need to touch it.” His eyes danced with amusement. “It’s skin, not human, before you ask me.”

I reached out hesitantly. The vibe coming off the spell was not a good one. My fingers brushed the edge, and I cried out at the pain I felt from the contact even as they curled around it and tugged the parchment out of Sam’s hand. I studied the script on the parchment, and the words moved as I read, making it impossible to decipher what it said. My head tilted to the side as I held it up in front of me, trying to chase the changing letters as they raced across the page.

“Stop it,” I muttered as I attempted to catch a word I recognised. In frustration, I pressed the parchment onto the table and tried to focus. The whispering was putting me off—when did the others come into the room? “Quiet!” I snapped as I tried to concentrate. The whispering trailed off, and I nodded in thanks. “I just need to catch a word…” I murmured as I tried to concentrate. “Is this in Latin?” I asked Sam as I realised that the words were no longer moving.

“An earlier form of it,” he answered me quietly.

“Pie…ther…iss…um?” I sounded the word out before I got it. “Pytherissum?” I cried out and leapt back as the words rushed off the paper and swirled in front of me in an almost cloud-like formation of script. “Sam…” I asked as I watched warily. The words stopped moving and suddenly fell onto the parchment.

“Oh my God,” I murmured as I picked it up. It was in English.

“You can read it?” Sam asked me knowingly.

I was scared to take my eyes off of it in case it went crazy again. “It changed to English.” I ran my finger under the words as I read it. “It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Read it to me,” he said softly.

I tried. I really did, but the words wouldn’t come. “It won’t let me.” I looked up at him in confusion. “Sam?”

He was watching me, and his gaze dropped to the spelled parchment. “Nothing at all?”

I looked back down and gave a frustrated cry when I saw the words were all jumbled and racing across the parchment again. “Ugh, they moved!”

“Moved?” Sam leaned forward and looked down at the spelled paper.

“Can’t you see them?” I asked as I pointed. I reached onto it as if I could almost catch one of the words. “And they’re back to the foreign language.” I desperately searched for the word I had spoken and found it again. “Pytherissum!” I called out, and once again the words swooped up into a jumbled ball in front of me. “Can you see the words?” I asked Sam quietly.

“On the hide?” he asked me just as quietly.

“No,” I answered, pointing cautiously, “dancing about like something out of a Winnie-the-Pooh film.”

“Like a what?”

“Shut up and focus,” I said instead of trying to explain the very best bear in the whole world to a demon. One impossible task at a time. “Do you see the words dancing about in front of me at my eye level?”

“No.”

“Well, shit, this is interesting,” I said just as a huge bang shook my cottage.