The Dark Glamour (666 Park Avenue 2) by Gabriella Pierce Read Free Book Online

must be personal and meaningful, right?’
    Dee quirked her mouth sideways thoughtfully. ‘That should do it,’ she announced after a moment. ‘It’s actually way better than the possibilities I was going to suggest. This is good!’ Her eyes flickered briefly towards the oven’s digital clock. ‘Misty should get here anytime now, but it’ll take us a while to set up. You’ve got time to get a little meditation in, and I think you should. The more power you have ready, the more you can see. Raid my closet for something you haven’t been wearing for days, and then meet us in the living room in about half an hour, okay?’
    Jane nodded and rose obediently. From her standing position, she could see over the lip of the ramekins. A perfectly smooth yolk glistened invitingly in the centre of the smooth custard inside each one, with a delicate dusting of cracked black pepper providing inviting contrast. Jane stretched out her fingers, snagged the lip of one of them, and then shrugged at Dee. ‘Magic is hard,’ she explained innocently. ‘I need the calories.’ She tucked her spoon between her palm and the ramekin, hesitated, and then picked up the second porcelain container in her other hand. ‘And lots of protein,’ she added over her shoulder, retreating hastily towards the bedrooms.
    The first egg was gone by the time she reached Dee’s closet. In the careless jumble of mostly black clothes, Jane found a dark green knit dress that looked like it would do for the day. The skirt would be pretty mini on Dee’s tall body, but on Jane it fell just a couple of inches above the knee. Smiling and slurping at her other egg, Jane wandered back to her room, sprawled on her back on the bed, and tried to locate the diffuse tingling that would begin the process of calling her magic together.
    It was a struggle to keep her mind from wandering after the events of the last two days, but she concentrated on her breathing the way Dee had taught her, and eventually was able to calm her swirling thoughts. Underneath the new stillness it was easy to pick out the peculiar, electric rush of magic humming along in her blood. It was peaceful and gentle now, nothing like the raging lightning it became when she was emotional. This kind of power could be harnessed and controlled, applied to whatever task she needed it to perform, instead of just lashing out wildly. She drew in three deep breaths, exhaling until her lungs burned, and began to collect her magic in her fingertips, coaxing it, pushing at it, and corralling stray currents that tried to escape.
    By the time thirty minutes had passed, Jane had a respectable bundle of power resting invisibly inside each hand. She wasn’t sure if it would be enough, and considered trying to make herself angry or something to add to it, but in her calm, clear-headed state she understood that this would be a silly risk. She might not be the most powerful witch in the world – she might not even be at
her
most powerful right then – but she was ready to get to work on the spell, and that mattered more. She swung her legs off the bed, enjoying first the velvety shag beneath her feet, and then the waxy hardwood beyond it. Her senses felt heightened; every touch was meaningful, every surface complex and compelling.
    She found Dee in the living room with Misty, a thirtysomething woman whose super-processed blond waves and just-a-little-too-tanned skin made her look as though she’d spent her life on some windswept beach. In reality, Dee had told Jane, Misty Travers (née Lois Trapinski) had been born on the Lower East Side, just blocks from where her occult bookstore now stood. She had apparently brought about half of the shop’s more private stock with her: crystals of all sizes and colours formed a large circle around the two women, a bundle of sage smouldered acrid smoke in a copper bowl off to one side, and Misty was carefully measuring out tiny vials of something clear and viscous.
    The two of them