Page 53 of Guardian

Winter swallowed hard. She had no choice. It was either this, or death for both her and Logan.

“Do the spell.”

She watched as Charles and Wesley sprang into action. Wesley went back to the mortar where he was mixing herbs. Meanwhile Charles walked to the desk, took one of the books and brought it to the center table, where he placed it next to an ornamental dagger.

“Wes?” Charles looked over his shoulder. “Ready?”

Wes carried the stone bowl with the herbs to the table. “It’s all there. Now for the last ingredient.” He looked directly at Winter. “Your blood.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and a breath rushed from her lungs.

“Don’t worry,” Charles added, “we only need a few drops. Step closer.”

She moved closer to him, while he lifted the dagger.

“Give me your left hand,” Charles demanded.

She stretched out her hand, and he took it, turned it palm up.

“This might sting a little.”

Before he’d even finished his sentence, he cut into the tip of her thumb and held it over the mortar to let the blood drop over the herbs.

“Now, Wes,” Charles said, still holding on to Winter’s hand.

Wesley poured a clear liquid over her hand and into the bowl, letting it mix with the herbs, while simultaneously he and Charles began to chant an incantation from the open book on the table.

The words sounded like a mixture of Latin and Greek, or some other old, long-dead language Winter didn’t recognize. The words seemed to build to a crescendo, and she felt a sudden pressure in her head as if a migraine was coming on. Red smoke started to rise from the bowl and travel up her hand, then along her arm, beginning to engulf her. Panic rose in her, and she wanted to pull away, afraid the red smoke would suffocate her, but Charles held on to her hand with an iron fist.

The red smoke entered her nostrils, and she was forced to inhale the substance. With it, the pressure in her head eased just as suddenly as it had started, and she felt as light as if floating on air.

Charles let go of her hand, and both witches stopped chanting. The floating feeling was gone again.

“How do you feel?” Charles asked.

She hesitated, mentally checking her body. Nothing ached. “I feel fine.”

Charles and Wesley exchanged a look.

“That’s good,” Wesley said.

“What now?” she asked.

“Go and rest, your mind is adjusting now,” Charles explained.

“How do you know if it worked?” She glanced at Logan, who stood a few feet away from her, a concerned look on his face. “I mean, I don’t feel any different.”

“It worked,” Charles said. “There is a calmness about you now that wasn’t there before. Your body knows it. Your mind just has to catch up.”

Slowly, she nodded. She had no choice but to trust his words. She’d done that a lot the last couple of days: trust strangers.