Spells Trouble by Kristin Cast (mystery books to read .txt) 📕

behind the clouds. Mother Moon would always be with her. She couldn’t say the same about Tyr. Her fingers found the pendant hanging from her neck.

She reached the stake and froze. The scorched earth was gone, vanished. “It was here.” She crouched next to the grass, unstained but still crushed in the shape of Earl Thompson’s body.

With a snort, Polyphemus shined the light onto the ground.

“It was right here,” Hunter repeated. “I had my tarot.” She mimed shuffling her deck. “I took out the cards.” She drew three invisible cards and set them in the grass. “I asked each card a question and they each gave an answer. One of them burned the earth. Here.” She passed her hand over Earl Thompson’s imprint. “And—” Her voice caught as she turned to where the footsteps had been burned into the earth. Now, Polyphemus filled that space in the grass, the sheriff’s large boots the same size as the vanished scorch marks. Hunter brushed her hands on her shorts and stood. This didn’t derail her plan, it just changed it a bit.

Polyphemus stepped closer. The toe of his boot touched hers. His coppery breath warmed her face. “I’d almost lost hope, but then I found you, Bright Eyes.” His palm melted against her cheek. “I’ve searched for you for centuries.” His thumb grazed her bottom lashes, slid down the slope of her nose and pressed against her lips.

Hunter parted her lips. “I’m here now,” she whispered and let her mouth graze his thumb. She watched her reflection in Sheriff Dearborn’s sunglasses as she bit into his flesh.

Her teeth sunk into skin. Blood hit her tongue as Polyphemus howled. He yanked his hand free. Pain fireworked against Hunter’s cheek. She hadn’t heard the slap or seen it coming, but the shape of his hand now burned against her face.

Hunter scrambled backward and tripped over the flashlight he’d dropped. She caught herself as the light settled across the forest of grass. She moved backward, closer to the tree as Polyphemus stalked toward her. But this wasn’t a retreat. This was a preparation.

“I am a Goode witch!” she shouted. Mangled roots jutted from the ground as Hunter neared the ancient olive. “My blood carries magic. So does yours, Polyphemus. I can feel it prick my throat like shards of glass.” She spit Polyphemus’s blood into her hand. “Your blood!” She pulled the athame from her pocket and sliced her blood-splattered palm. “My blood!” Scarlet gushed from the wound and swirled across Polyphemus’s blood like a whirlpool against her skin. “I draw down the power of the moon and the heat of the stars!” She thrust her red palm to the sky and, for a moment, the heavens flickered.

Polyphemus roared. Hunter’s pulse surged through her ears as she widened her stance and let him shorten the distance between them. With the demi-god only steps away, Hunter rushed forward. A scream scraped against the back of her throat as their bodies collided. Polyphemus grabbed her ponytail and snapped her head back.

Her hands found his shoulders, his neck, his ears. She yanked off his sunglasses and clapped her bloody palm against his good eye. “Release!” she commanded the cosmic energy she’d stored in the crimson pool that swirled against her palm. Heat shot from Hunter’s palm.

With a screech, Polyphemus wrenched away. He slapped his hands over his eye and folded as he tripped backward.

Hunter ran to the base of the tree. Her hand trembled as she grabbed Tyr’s pendant and yanked. The rope cord resisted. It burned the back of her neck as she pulled harder—then it snapped. Her eyes filled with tears, turning Polyphemus into a writhing blur of dark colors. She held the symbol of Tyr to her lips and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

She threw the pendant to the ground and swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “Amphitrite!” The tree’s wide trunk pressed against Hunter’s back as she called on a new deity—a goddess to set things right. “Wife of Poseidon and goddess of the sea, I come bearing a gift!”

Polyphemus’s screams turned to growls and he charged Hunter, arms blindly thrashing the air. The flesh around his once good eye was raw, the edges charred. Hunter had blinded him, but she hadn’t stopped him.

Her throat turned to barbed wire and she choked on the fear caught in the back of her mouth. “Amphitrite,” she barked, her voice nearly drowned out by her thundering pulse. “I offer you Polyphemus, proof of your husband’s adultery! Take him back to Tartarus and I’ll submit my will to yours!”

The air cooled and the hairs along Hunter’s arms bristled. Light poured from the tree, from the gate, the same cerulean as a blue giant. Polyphemus’s boots beat the ground as he sped toward the brilliant glow.

Hunter pulled the athame from her pocket as the demi-god tripped on the olive tree’s roots and slammed into her. Air shot out of her lungs and she lost her grip on the knife. It fell to the ground, its sharp point glinting in the blue light. Bark tore into Hunter’s back as Polyphemus’s weight crushed her to the ground. He roared. Spittle flew from his lips and sprayed Hunter’s forehead. His hands clawed up her chest and snaked around her neck. She pawed the earth for the blade as Polyphemus squeezed her throat. The tips of her fingers brushed something cool, something metal. She gripped the hilt, raised the blade, and drove the point into his temple.

Spit showered Hunter’s face as Polyphemus howled and his grip tightened on her throat.

Hunter swiped her wounded hand through the blood that leaked from his head. “We are all stardust.” The words barely passed from her lips as she focused the last of her energy through her blood and into his.

Polyphemus’s blood, charged with her power, sizzled against his skin. It bubbled and popped and ate through to bone. He yanked one hand from Hunter’s neck and pawed at the flesh on his face that burned