“That only gives us five days,” Jake answered.
“I know,” she replied. “Which means if we want to catch my dad, we’re going to need a plan.”
“How about, you’re not going anywhere near the woods? That’s a plan,” Jake said blankly.
“Jake, don’t start.” She sighed, looking at Theo. “I suppose you’re going to side with him on this?”
“I think Jake is right. It is not a good idea for you to venture into the woods,” Theo replied. “You said it yourself, your father requires your blood to complete the raising ritual. Taking you into the woods would be unwise.”
“Look, if he really wants my blood, trust me he’ll find a way to make it happen. But to be honest, he doesn’t actually need me dead, just some of my blood. They could have quite easily taken some from me while I was unconscious in Walcott’s cabin for all I know.”
“But we don’t know that for certain,” Jake argued. “I say we call in Captain McCallister and the others, and on the night of the solstice, we’ll go into the woods armed and arrest him.”
“That’s not going to work, Jake.” Olivia sighed.
“Why?” he replied stubbornly.
“Because the last time I checked, I’m the only witch in this room,” she snapped irritably. “And my dad is a witch too unless you’ve forgotten… and he’s extremely powerful. You won’t stand a chance against him. Only I can stop him.”
Theo frowned. “You can’t expect us to put you in harm’s way.”
“You don’t have a choice,” she snapped angrily. “In five days’ time, after sundown, my father is going to be in those woods killing some other innocent guy and raising a demon and I’m the only one who can stop him.”
They both stared at her silently. She could tell they knew she had a point, but they didn’t want to admit it.
“Look”—she sighed, reaching deep inside to find her rapidly thinning patience—“we don’t have a choice, none of us do. We can’t risk my dad turning a demon loose.”
“But you are asking us to risk you,” Theo spoke quietly.
“There is a risk, yes, but that’s what I have you two for.” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “We started this together, the three of us, and it is going to take the three of us to finish it. I know you want to protect me, but we don’t have that luxury. Welcome to the twenty-first century. I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m fucking Xena, and I’m telling you I can do this.”
“Who’s Xena?” Theo whispered to Jake.
“Oh man.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “You are in for a treat when all this is finished.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “So… are we agreed?” she asked carefully.
Jake looked to Theo, something passed silently between them, and finally Theo nodded slowly.
“Alright, Xena”—Jake sighed—“why don’t you tell us what you have in mind.”
Three days passed and Olivia spent every waking moment buried in either Hester’s Grimoire or her journals, and when she wasn’t doing that, she was studying the dusty old books on magic in her library.
Growling in frustration, she slammed another book shut and tossed it onto the growing pile of discarded volumes. She couldn’t find any reference to a raising spell that required five male victims with body parts removed. That was the one thing she didn’t understand. In order to open the devil’s trap, her father simply needed Hester’s original spell, which he would have had access to while he was married to her mother. After that, it would be a case of recreating the spell itself and reversing it. He shouldn’t have needed to kill anyone. It just didn’t make any sense.
She pulled the Grimoire back into her lap and opened it, flicking through a few random pages and trying to find some sort of spell to empower the hunting knives she’d asked Jake to bring her. She knew she could conjure Hellfire and that it would destroy a hellhound. The problem was, although she’d already killed two of them, they didn’t know how many were actually in the woods protecting Boothe’s Hollow. She would be focused on stopping her father and wouldn’t have time to deal with them, which meant she needed a way for Jake and Theo to defend themselves. It was obvious from experience that regular bullets wouldn’t get the job done. The hounds were creatures of the Hell dimensions, which meant finding some kind of supernatural weapon to kill them.
She rubbed her eyes tiredly and looked down at the open book on her lap. “I don’t suppose you want to help me out here, do you?” she murmured in frustration. “I really need a weapon that can kill hellhounds.”
Suddenly the words on the page began to swirl and churn until they rearranged themselves. Olivia’s mouth fell open. The handwriting was slightly different to Hester’s and somehow older, more archaic in its speech. She didn’t dwell on that slight discrepancy as she read on, a knot of excitement forming in her gut. Whether or not it was Hester finding a way across the veil to reach out and help her, one thing was clear; it was telling her exactly how to create a weapon that could kill a creature of the Hell dimensions. Propping the book up, she retrieved the two hunting knives and set to work.
It was strange and unlike any spell she was used to. In fact, if she was reading it right, it would only work for someone who could conjure Hellfire.
It was as if the book was somehow tailor made just for her. Shaking the thought from her mind, she set the candles out and they burst into flames. Casting the circle, she laid out the knives in front of her. She could feel the low murmur of her power filling the circle, overlaid by a stronger, older power.
The room flooded with the scent of the forest, the edges of the room blurred, and she could see vines of ivy and night-blooming jasmine winding up the walls across the rows and rows of books. The hard floor and rug beneath her feet softened and became springy, and when she looked down, she was standing on a carpet of soft green grass, speckled with tiny white daisies.
She watched in fascination as a patch of grass in front of her split open and thick, dark roots speared upward. Catching the book and lifting it, they swirled and twisted until pausing about four feet from the ground, cradling the Grimoire like a bookstand.
