pithy reply, Emilie's head fell farther backward and an agonized sound escaped her lips. Her body went rigid, and every flame in the circle flared several feet high.
Daniel waited only the space of a single breath before hurling himself over the leaping flames.
* * * *
Emilie felt the cold, black emptiness of the netherworld envelope her as it had once before. She'd vowed the first time to never again put herself through this torture, yet here she was, rooted to the center of the rune circle in the back room of her shop, caught in the throes of evil as Chester Creek's portal to hell struggled to open beneath her feet.
The girls would have had a fit if they'd known what she was attempting. Her cousin Charlotte would kill her, if the banishing ritual didn't do the job first.
Stupid pride, they'd say. Yes. Emilie knew she suffered from a form of hubris born of insecurity. As the least powerful witch in her family, she'd grown up with something to prove. The fact that the Swanson clan unconditionally loved their youngest, least talented daughter became immaterial. Emilie wanted—needed—to measure up.
Failing to fully close Chester's portal the first time haunted her. Audra had given her the assignment in good faith, and Emilie owned her sister-in-magick her best effort. She'd taken the easy route, the weaker spell because it was less painful. It demanded less of her and she had known, without a doubt, that her power was equal to it.
That made her a bad witch. And a bad witch wouldn't be able to help anyone. So she had to do this alone, to prove—especially to herself—that she had it in her. Only then would she be able to help Vance and show Daniel that Cypress Park wasn't better off without her.
Despite the cold, desolate hollow that crawled up into her gut, she managed to tighten her grip on the potion bottle.
A blur of movement passed through the corner of her limited vision.
She tensed. Had something already escaped from the portal?
The demons that the warlock Creek had brought forth had been small, wrinkled, hairless creatures with gnarled fangs and bat-like ears. Personal-sized nightmares, the kinds of things children feared lived under their beds or lurked in dark basements and dusty attics. The mischief-makers had proven fairly easy for the coven to catch, however, but alone and immobilized by the terrible cold from below, Emilie would be easy prey if one had gotten loose.
Daniel? Where had he gone?
Something brushed against her hand. She found the strength to jerk away from the chilling touch. The words of the incantation she'd memorized formed in her mind, and she spoke them, slow and deliberate, as she squeezed the potion bottle in her fist.
Malachus in severus!
This incantation forms a seal, what lies below to banish.
Bind the power that stirs within
And make the portal vanish!
A screech, like nails raking across a chalkboard, ripped through the room. An icy gust of fetid air followed. Emilie repeated the incantation, louder this time, as the wailing from below rose in pitch.
Malachus in severus!
This incantation forms a seal, what lies below to banish.
Bind the power that stirs within
And make the portal vanish!
In response, the portal convulsed beneath her. Emilie's knees buckled. As she fell forward, she slammed the potion bottle onto the floor with all her remaining strength. At the moment it shattered against her palm, hell hiccuped.
The black liquid oozed onto the cracks that had formed in the floor and mixed with candle wax, crystal dust and her blood. The conglomeration solidified into an unbreakable seal that formed a black sunburst pattern across the floor, obliterating the circle of Chester Creek's satanic runes. One by one the candles guttered as the dark marks faded.
Emilie smiled at her handiwork. Not bad, she thought, just before a bomb exploded behind her eyes.
The world went icy black, and she passed out.
CHAPTER 7
"That was impressive,” Daniel said when Emilie's eyes