Page 52 of Will It Hurt?

The spellbook still sat open, the vague instructions staring up at me. It glowed lightly under the candlelight, just enough to make out the words.

“Well,” I said, making the decision to thumb through the list of spells. “I can certainly try something simpler.”

I paused on a page that had been slightly dog-eared, reading over the words that were slightly too cursive .

“A healing spell,” I said aloud, tracing my fingers over each loopy letter. “Cast this spell to ease physical and emotional discomfort.”

I glanced over at Jinn, expecting a reaction. Her features hadn’t changed. She continued to watch me, her gaze cool and her legs crossed beneath her in a perfect loop.

“Would you object to me trying this out on you?” I asked, watching as a single brow rose.

“And what could that possibly accomplish?”

“Healing.” I resisted the urge to follow up with a typically American duh. Instead, I said: “Maybe it’ll help ease the grief and pain after… You know.”

“I don’t need that.”

“Of course you don’t.” I wondered if she could see my eyes roll as I studied the instructions. “But what harm could it do?”

“That’s something for you to answer.”

True.

“Just…” I met her gaze. “Sit still and let me work.”

“All right.” Her spine lost a bit of its starch. “I’d appreciate it if you tried not to kill me.”

That was a difficult ask, but I refused to say anything out loud to make her lose her trust in me.

I took a deep breath, feeling the air travel through my lungs in an infinite loop. The spellbook was surprisingly warm as I placed my palm on the open pages, letting it speak to me.

“ Create a summoning circle using powdered chalk made from ground human bones—preferably ethically sourced .”

I bit my lip, staring to make sure I’d read the words correctly.

“How would one ethically source ground human bones?” Jinn questioned, rightly so .

A touch of sweat tingled at my brow. “Not possible. In this day and age, chalk and salt will have to do.”

I pulled the spellbook a little closer, reading aloud: “ Draw a summoning circle with seven distinct layers. Each layer represents a different kind of healing: flesh, bone, blood, breath, mind, soul, and whatever else feels right at the time .”

Jinn waited patiently as I expanded the circles, the chalk scraping against the ground.

“ Sit in the center with a silver coin in your left hand. ”

I felt around my pockets, knowing full well that the last time I’d used cash was in 2020.

“Here,” Jinn said, handing me a fifty pence coin. I accepted it gratefully and cupped it in my left hand, shutting my eyes to concentrate.

“ Say the afflicted’s name backward seven times while tapping the coin against your teeth. ”

I popped open one eye to find Jinn studying me intently.

“I need your full name for the spell.”

She hesitated only a second before saying: “Jeanette Waters.”

Ah, the nickname made sense now. Perhaps it had nothing to do with evil tricksters.

It took us a minute to figure out what that would sound like backwards, but as I pronounced the odd string of letters and tapped the coin against my teeth seven times, nothing happened.

“I guess that it’s not—”

Before I could finish the sentence, a low rumble rolled through the ceiling, deep and menacing like the growl of a beast that was waking up angry. A sharp, splintering sound split the air and a shudder past through the solarium, rattling the walls, the floor, and every bone in my body.

Jinn got to her feet too quickly for me to process .

“What is happening?”

Dust fell in lazy spirals at first, drifting like snowfall until the shaking worsened.

As the stones overhead vibrated, the dust poured down—thick, dry, choking.

It caught in my hair, dusted my shoulders, slipped into my eyes.

A single, ominous fragment of rock dislodged and hit my temple, sharp enough to sting, and I flinched, throwing my arms over my head.

The circle around me flickered and spluttered before fizzling out.

Overhead, the stones grew still again.

When I dared to look up, Jinn’s gaze bore into me, disappointment flecked in their dark depths.

I stood, dusting myself off as casually as I could.

“I meant to do that.”

Which was, of course, a bald-faced lie.

I swallowed against the grit in my throat, staring up at the ceiling, waiting. For more dust. For more shaking. For the whole bloody thing to come crashing down.

Instead, the rocks held still.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t improvise,” Jinn said into the silence, sounding as though her teeth were clenched tight.

“It’s not improvising, it’s adapting,” I corrected her. “Besides, I’m not going to find human bones to grind.”

“Because you’re a vegetarian?” Jinn parroted my earlier rebuttal.

“Because I can’t bring myself to desecrate a dead person like that.”

Jinn scoffed as though she didn’t have the same qualms.

I ran a hand over my jacket, sending dust and debris flying in every direction, but Jinn moved with infuriating grace—a careful brush over each shoulder, a methodical sweep down each sleeve, a single smooth motion through her hair to dislodge the smattering of dust without a single wrinkle to her clothes.

I, on the other hand, shook myself like a dog pulling itself out of a lake. Very dignified.

“It would be wise to consult your elder before attempting another spell.”

She didn’t even try to conceal the doubt in her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest with her brows arched skeptically.

Could I blame her? She was paying me to cast a spell—an important one at that—and my first attempt had gone more than awry.

“Wait.” I glanced around the circle. “Where’s the coin?”

“Maybe it’s buried under a pile of dust.”

“No.” I unclenched my fist. “It was in my palm. I know it—I felt it digging into me a minute ago.”

“Maybe you dropped it.”

“A coin clattering against stone? We would have heard it. Right?”

I sifted through the dust on the ground with the edge of my boot, but there was nothing left save salt and grit.

Strange.

“What does that mean?” Jinn asked, watching me warily. “Has someone or… something … accepted the offering?”

“I can’t say for sure, given that the spell didn’t go as planned.”

I dragged a hand through my curls and found it matted with dust. Lovely.

“I should try again.” I bit my lip, tasting the unpleasantness of centuries-old grit. “Maybe a simpler spell.”

“Is that safe—”

“Look,” I interjected. “Spellcasting is like a muscle—something that must be trained and stretched and strengthened. The more I practice, the better I become. Repetition builds control.”

I flexed my fingers, letting the tips rasp against each other to test the magick under my skin. There was still some static there, some friction. Enough to keep going.

If I didn’t test my boundaries or push past what I thought I could do, I’d never know how strong I was. No one had ever given me a reason to test my limits before, but now, with my freedom on the line, I couldn’t think of a better time to flex my magickal muscles.

Before that…

A low pulse of energy spread from my fingertips—slow at first, then sharper, stronger. The dust shivered and stirred, rising from the ground in a layer of murky grey, hovering in the air for long seconds.

Clear.

The word was sharp and steady in my mind, and I pushed the intention forward.

In a swirl that mimicked the core of a tornado, the dust swooped upward, moving towards the ceiling and scattering into oblivion.

“That,” Jinn said, staring at the ceiling. “Was impressive.”

It was a simple spell—the kind we would use to hoover the house instead of doing any actual cleaning, but I enjoyed the surprise in Jinn’s voice.

The solarium was now cleaner than before, although the dried herbs and other forgotten debris still lined the corners.

“I am capable of some things,” I said drily, stepping back into the parameters of the circle and making myself comfortable in the middle. “Spellwork is easy. The intention comes from here.”

I placed a hand on my belly .

“Spellcasting, on the other hand, relies on both innate ability and external forces. That’s why a sacrifice is necessary. The coin is a good example of that.”

“Or blood,” Jinn pointed out.

“Only for forbidden spells.”

She hesitated as I drew the spellbook closer, thumbing through it in search of something simpler.

“What?” I asked without glancing up. “I can feel you wanting to say something.”

“It’s probably unwise of me to ask this of you considering what just happened, but could you try to cast a forbidden spell? Tonight?”

My gaze snapped to hers, caught off guard.

“We don’t have much time before the solstice,” she continued. “If you’d like to practice, I’d rather you chose spells that are similar to The Retractare .”

Fair, I thought, my palms growing slick. It was a valid suggestion, but one that made my heart flutter with a sudden burst of nerves. And without a doubt, I knew that the vamp had picked up on the quickening in my chest.

“Yes,” I said with conviction I didn’t feel. “A similar spell…”

A flicker of doubt stirred in my chest, insidious and sharp, as Jinn’s eyes tracked my every movement. Assessing, waiting. Was she expecting me to fail?

I refused to let her see how doubt had replaced oxygen in my lungs.

Instead, I focused on holding my posture steady and my back straight, keeping my expression carefully neutral, even as uncertainty curled tight in my stomach.

My hands stilled between the pages of the old book, and I worried that the moment I lifted them, they’d start to tremble.

Jinn said nothing, and somehow, that was worse . No criticism, no reassurance, just a strange disquiet.

Something rough lodged in my throat as I swallowed .

Don’t panic, I told myself, but the words quickly turned into a looping nightmare.