A prince of hell.

A prince of hell.

A prince of... I grabbed my hair and pulled the ends before my brain could finish repeating Ash's words for the hundredth time since I'd crawled into my bed. I kept hoping the more I thought the words, the less weight they would carry.

Sometimes words were like that. The more you said something, the more you mulled it over, the more you realized language was strange. How did we come to associate the word dog with adorable fluff balls and wagging tails? And if you reiterated dog over and over again, it started to not mean anything. It was just a sound.

But it wasn't working. Each time the phrase flitted through my mind, the words grew heavier. Every syllable inciting fear and horror in my gut.

A prince of hell.

I knew the magical world wasn't all light and sparkles. There were spells out there so dark and dangerous, it was forbidden to even speak of them. Spells of death and destruction. Black magic. Magic that corrupted souls.

And then there were other supernaturals. Sinister creatures who lingered in shadows, waiting for the unwary to cross their path. Monsters with fangs and claws perfect for shredding fragile flesh. Heck, I worried about them more than most around here. I couldn't arm myself against them the way other witches and warlocks could.

But there was a difference in knowing and experiencing, and someone out there was trying to bridge the gap between the two. Which meant, if I was smart, I'd wash my hands of this. There were others- far more capable than myself- who could continue this investigation.

"Rats," I muttered, pushing my comforter back and throwing my legs over the side of the bed.

It took two minutes to shimmy into jeans and a sweatshirt. Shoes followed. Bed head hair went into a knot on the top of my head, and I wiped the bits of crust from the corner of my eyes. Dark spots on my fingertips revealed I hadn't washed my face as well as I thought, and there was a very good chance I resembled a raccoon as I hurried down the stairs. All the better to blend into the night.

I stopped in the kitchen to scrounge up a flashlight. There was just the one we kept on hand for power outages. For me, of course. No one else would bother with such pointless impoten technology. Not when they could conjure light with a simple spell.

At least, I didn't have to be quiet. Mabon was still in full swing, and everyone had left for the parties and rituals hours ago. Before leaving the kitchen, I paused, sniffing the air. The door to Mama's workshop was cracked. It let in the scent of sage and rose. And something else...maybe sulfur?

With a shrug to the empty room, I decided a detour wouldn't hurt anyone. It's not like I had a schedule. Not even sure I had a real destination. All I knew was I needed to be doing something besides lying in my bed feeling powerless.

Mama's workroom was as it always was. Somehow chaotic and organized at the same time- just like she was on most days. Energy hummed in the small space, purposeful and powerful. Her workbench was clean save for a few scattered pieces of something purple and pink- perhaps rose petals? Nothing in my line of sight gave away the source of the burnt smell.

I ran my fingers along the jars in the wooden cubby on the back wall. There was something here I needed. The thought prickled in the back of my mind. Unusual. Mama would call it intuition, a magic everyone could tap into, but I'd never given it much leeway before. It was too much like a consolation prize. Like someone said, 'here you go. Sorry you can't cast a spell to make a broomstick fly, but here's something that'll make your stomach twist and your head ache until you figure out what it is.'

A wooden box was shoved in the far back of one of the cubbyholes, and I went up on tiptoe to reach it. The contents were heavy- most likely uncut gemstones intended for the charms and amulets we sold in Southern Charms, but when I flipped the lid I found I was only half right.

A piece of paper covered a bracelet- the words silver, gold 24k, and black tourmaline etched across it in Mama's elegant script. The bracelet was breathtaking. Most black tourmaline bracelets were simple- the stone polished to a high shine and fashioned into beads. They were linked together without any adornment.

For this piece though, the single stone remained rough, leaving the natural striations visible in the black oval. A thin strand of silver lined the tourmaline, the glittering material a sharp contrast to the rock's flat darkness. It almost seemed to swallow the light around it. I slid the gold bangle it was attached to over my wrist, careful to not squeeze too hard, but despite its purity, the band bent just enough to form to my wrist and then didn't move beneath my fingers. Pure gold. Strengthened by magic.

I held my breath, waiting for my body to reject the magic, but like Clemmy's amulet, the only hint that it was more than a normal piece of jewelry was the warmth against my skin. And the pressing urge to search this room faded. This was what called me.

I jumped, my determination renewed, and I hurried out of the house with a pack slung over my shoulder and the flashlight in one hand. Leaves crackled underfoot, turning to the crunching of gravel as I hurried down the drive.

A prince of hell.

The trees lining the road somehow seemed a hundred foot taller and almost suffocating at the same time. Their slender branches reached for me, moss dripping from the tips brushing against the back of my neck. Every rustle, every chirp was a monster stalking me through the brambles and briers.

This was stupid. So stupid. I should've at least taken the car. Then I shook my head. Right. Trying to be sneaky, and driving a car through Black Brier at two in the morning was about as subtle as Paul Revere's ride.

But our town, despite its small town charm, was actually quite expansive. Witches didn't think much about the layout of places considering most could cover miles with a single teleport. My walk took the better part of an hour, meaning by the time I reached the cemetery, the bells in the town square were tolling, declaring the hour to be three a.m.

Better known as the witching hour.

I covered my mouth to stop the hysterical giggle burbling up my throat. A few hundred years ago, a mortal woman caught wandering about at this hour would be executed. If someone caught me now, I'd have explaining to do for sure, only anything less than dancing naked beneath the moonlight to cast a spell would be looked upon with utter disappointment.

"Alright, Rose. Get it together," I muttered, opening the wrought iron gate and slipping into the final resting place of my ancestor's.

Within a few minutes of strolling down the narrow, paved paths, my jitters disappeared. Serenity cloaked me, and the demons in the dark faded. There was something peaceful about this place. Not even the unavoidable melancholy threading through the grounds could destroy it.

In my early teens, I'd often escaped my crazy family by coming here with a blanket and a book. There was a gazebo in the center of the cemetery, nestled between a grove of weeping willows and cardinal flowers growing wild. There, I'd been able to be what my family wanted me to be: special. A magical sorceress saving the world, a pirate queen discovering treasure, an elf warrior dying for those she loved.

But, there were times when people interrupted me. It happened whenever I fell asleep, my eyes closing on a golden afternoon and waking to a purple dusk. They would be there, building a circle and preparing their sacrifices. Unsavory types rarely seen around town, clothed in all black with blood dried beneath broken nails. The Council couldn't banish them as there was no evidence their magic was used for evil. It wasn't blatant black magic. More like gray, falling somewhere in the cracks between moral and unethical.

I hadn't thought of them until long after Ash and Willow left, and it was only after almost ten minutes of walking that I decided to come to my childhood haunt. Hopefully, they wouldn't waste a festival night.

There was a very good chance this trip would be fruitless. Surely, no one would be silly enough to practice black magic or summon a demon in the middle of public property. Then again, there was a good chance anyone who wanted to summon a demon was more than a few fries short of a happy meal anyways. And it gave me a purpose. A way to help my friends.

Voices drifted to me as I stepped into the clearing, and sure enough, the usual suspects were swaying around a fire, the tips of the flames sparking green beneath the starlit sky. I pumped a fist in celebration before the reality of the situation sank in. If they were already assembled, I had little chance of crossing the open space without being caught.

"Rats," I hissed, hunkering under a bush. This wasn't the worst spot to spy from, but it wasn't what I'd call comfortable. If they were intoxicated- the stumbling and tone deaf chanting pointed to yes- I might be able to slip by.

Gathering my courage, I started to count down from ten, preparing my underused muscles for a sprint. Only, a heavy hand on my shoulder disrupted the process, and I spun around, the back of my left hand connecting to a solid jaw with a resounding crack. Energy pulsed between us, the bracelet on my arm grew blistering hot, and my assailant let out a strangled shriek as he went crashing into a headstone. He groaned and went still.

Fingers clawing at my wrist, I sighed with relief to find I hadn't actually been burned by the metal, and a look over my shoulder revealed the altercation hadn't disturbed the gathering. I inched closer to the unconscious figure. The smart thing to do would be to hightail it out of here. Go home. Crawl into my bed. Forget any of this had happened. At least, I'd have no witnesses to my shame.

However, if I was smart, I wouldn't be out here in the first place. I hunched over the body and reached for him, making sure to use the hand with the bracelet. I didn't know what spells had supercharged this bad boy, but for once, I was very, very thankful for magic.

"Okay," I whispered, gripping him by his shoulder. His very muscled shoulder...Swallowing hard, I turned him over. "What the hell?"