I nodded, breathless at the sensations tripping through me. “Sure.” There were better ways to use this knowledge, and sitting in bed making circles wasn’t one of them. But Hodin’s curse would only last for thirty-six hours. If we didn’t have the baku captured and in a bottle by then, we’d have to paint it on again. We were out of whatever had been in that hand-pinched pot.
So with more than a little reluctance, I forced my thoughts from the tingling sensation warming my core to a small space over the foot of the bed. Rhombus, I thought, using my circle word, whereas I usually only willed it to happen.
Trent jerked, his grip on my hand tightening as the circle swam into existence with an unusual hesitation. But it was thick. So thick I couldn’t see through it. “Damn,” Trent swore, a nervous smile on him as he glanced at me. “I didn’t even set one. It just happened. That’s good.”
“Is it?” I frowned at the potential problem. It wasn’t like the slave rings where the person who had the master ring supplemented his power with whoever wore the slaver. It was a direct link, as if the two were one. “What if all our magic is supplemented by each other?”
“Is that a problem?” he asked, and I took a slow breath.
“Not necessarily, but we should find out. Leno cinis,” I said with a flourish, directing my attention to the already running circle floating in the middle of the room.
Energy zipped through me, shocking and hot. It raced to the circle . . . and then it exploded into existence. A white-hot glow threw back the comforting gloom of the morning, making Trent grunt and me wince. It was like a miniature sun, and I dropped the line. Darkness flooded back, and the purple blot from where I’d burned my retinas danced like an annoying will-o’-the-wisp.
“I’d say yes, that’s a problem,” Trent muttered. “Unless you meant it to be that bright.”
“No.” I blinked, trying to get the haze to go away. “Let me try again. Leno cinis,” I said, letting only a trickle of energy invoke the curse. My shoulders eased and I leaned back into Trent as a more normal light brightened the room.
“That’s better.” Trent looked at it, clearly relieved. “What’s the ratio?”
I snuggled back against him. Soul bottle, check. Merging circles, check. Lure the baku from Landon and catch it . . . not so easy peasy. “About half?” I guessed, then jerked when the lighted circle dropped. I hadn’t done it, and after the first shock, I smiled at Trent. “That takes some getting used to,” I said as I snuggled closer, reluctant to get up.
“Don’t bother,” he said as he traced a path down my arm. “I figure we have until three a.m. tomorrow, and it will be gone.”
But then my expression blanked as a new voice twined with Zack’s, one feminine and dark, like gray smoke in fog. Ivy. “Crap on toast. I forgot to call Ivy.” Pulse fast, I sat up.
“It’s okay,” Trent said with a yawn, looking tousled and sexy in his PJ bottoms and nothing else. “I asked Jon to call her when we came up at sunset.”
“Then why is she here?” I swung my feet off the bed and stood. Where’s my robe?
“I’ve no idea,” he said as he slid from the sheets and stretched. He looked absolutely yummy as he reached for his robe and slipped it on. I watched, feeling my body react and wanting him all over again. Yesterday had been amazing, and afterward, I’d never slept better.
“You don’t think Ellasbeth kept the girls in the safe room all this time, do you?” he said as I put on my own robe, then gave him a hug from behind. My head hit the back of his shoulder, and I felt my gaze go distant.
“I’m sure Quen has them. It’s hard to sleep when Lucy is awake,” I said.
Trent turned in my grip, his head dropping as he tied my robe shut. It didn’t cover the front half of the glyph, and I was struck with how old the curse was, older than the original ever-after maybe. Though the words had been demon, it was obviously Goddess based. No wonder they want Hodin dead.
“True,” Trent said distantly, and my thoughts went back to their argument. I could see the hurt of Quen’s betrayal on him, and I wished I could make it go away.