The Price of Possession, Dakota Brown [i have read the book a hundred times .TXT] 📗

get a demon out of a person, but I don't know how toget one out of a charm that it's bound to." That was more than I hadwanted to say. Damn it.

The renewed interest in the man's eyes made me squirma little on the inside. He had a way of looking straight through you that Ididn't see much anymore.

Without a word, the guy turned and went into the backof his store.

Wondering if I'd pissed him off, or if I should run, Iedged back from the counter until I was at the book rack. Maybe there wassomething here.

"Does the demon wish to be released from thecharm?"

"Fuck, mate," I exclaimed as I jumped out ofmy skin. I hadn't heard him return or come up behind me.

Amusement glinted in his eyes when I turned to glare.

"Yes, it would very much like to go home.Complicated, long story." I hoped he wouldn't ask. I was honestly shockedhe seemed to believe me about the demon. Most people didn't.

"Do you have holy water?"

"Yeah." Darius had left that and the sagewith me.

"Sage?"

I nodded.

"A focus crystal?"

"No."

He held out his hands, as if he had anticipated that.In each palm was a crystal, the left a smokey quartz, the right citrine.

I chose the citrine. No idea why.

He set the quartz back on the display and gestured forme to follow him back to the counter. I did, trying not to notice how fluidlyhe moved, like a dancer maybe. Not to mention the way his wavy hair brushed thecollar of his T-shirt or the way his jeans fit his ass. No, I was definitelynot staring at his ass. What the hell was wrong with me? I was not looking forany sort of relationship, not even a one-night hook up. Well, he was easy onthe eyes. I shrugged and wondered how much the damn crystal was going to costme, or why I needed it.

The guy pushed a leather-bound book across thecounter. It was open, the pages handwritten and yellowed with age, butreasonably well preserved.

I studied the words on the page, grateful they were inLatin, and grateful I could read it.

My new shopkeeper friend watched, not saying anything,as I read through the instructions.

"Huh, okay. So, how much is this going to costme?" And I wasn't completely worried about the monetary cost. Someone whoactually had real magical texts might not even deal in currency.

"The book is a loan. The crystal is ten dollars."

"You're really going to trust me with this?"I raised my eyebrows.

He lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "I canfind the book if I need to track it down."

"Oh." Maybe it was blood marked? What was aguy who had a blood marked book doing working in a new age store? I wasn't sureif I wanted to know or not.

"Tell me, do you roleplay?"

I stared at the shopkeeper, my brain trying to makethe switch from Latin incantations to questions about roleplaying.

"Like, whips and chains? Kinda personal forsomeone you just met, don't you think?"

He chuckled. "Tabletop."

I tilted my head.

"With dice?" His amused smile pissed me off.

"Oh, that kind of roleplaying. No, gave that upages ago." Duh, I thought to myself. He meant gaming. I had skippedstraight from the role players are nerds phase straight into the full onoccultist phase, and missed the pretending phase.

"Pity." He shrugged.

"Right. Um, why? Kinda out of the blue, you know."

"I'm looking for a new group, and it struck methat a real exorcist might be fun to play with."

His tone was a bit more suggestive than I had anticipatedand instead of irritating me, it sent tremors of need down my spine. Fuck that."I am a real exorcist," I bit back. I tried to stay chill. I wasn'tsure it worked.

"Of course."

I glared at him. "There might be a local grouparound here somewhere."

He didn't reply.

Vaguely irritated, and not sure why, I paid for thecrystal. I thanked him for the book and headed back to my car. The entire driveback to the house, I had the nagging suspicion I'd missed something I needed inthe store. Still, the spell was reasonable, and it actually shouldn't be toohard to accomplish my goals.

Those thoughts occupied me on my on my drive back tomy house. I made a cup of coffee once I was inside and studied the ritual. Itwas straightforward and I likely had a copy of a similar ritual in one of mybooks. Still, I didn't have my books and I did have...I hadn't gotten his name.Huh.

Well, time to go release a demon. I took a beeswaxtaper from my drawer, grabbed the book and the crystal, and went down into mybasement.

Though I wasn't real keen on the idea, I had to crossthe barrier to set up the spell. I left the book on the table by the door, tooka deep breath and crossed into the protective circle.

It was a risk every time I crossed the barrier, butthe demon was currently bound, and I'd be out before I invoked the spell.

The top of my work bench was slate, and I quickly butcarefully drew the proscribed sigils around the charm to direct and contain theenergy. I set the crystal, lit the candle and the sage bundle and, after onemore look to make sure I'd gotten it right, stepped back out of the circle.

"All right, demon, let's get you out of there soI can be done with this whole nonsense." Taking a deep breath andcentering my personal energy, I began the incantation.

I could feel the bindings on the spell resist myefforts to unravel them, and I began the incantation again with more feelingnow that I had the shape of the spell in my mind.

On the third repetition, I felt the bindings give.Energy flashed visibly, contained by the protective circle but still causing meto flinch away. A sharp crack split the air.

When my vision cleared, my gaze darted to the table. Thecandle had melted away, and the citrine crystal had shattered almost intopowder. The charm itself was a puddle of silver.

A soft groan pulled my attention to the floor. A bodylay there, curled on its side, back to me.

"Hello?"

"Thanks for that."