Page 27

I glanced down.

The top of my black sleeping gown dipped low enough to expose the mark. The cursed heart’s edges appeared darker than usual, as if someone had traced the heart with fresh ink.

His magic changed it somehow. What the fuck?

The heart throbbed.

Heat gathered beneath my breasts.

Eh. You need to chill out.

My body had become an absolute traitor. Something was rising in me that didn't feel like normal want. It felt like a fever with passionate intention. Like my body was preparing for something.

That’s okay. Soon as I get home. I’ll fix whatever is going on with me.

Hours earlier, I had changed into the black silk sleeping gown because I had genuinely intended to get some rest before catching my morning flight. Now, the thin fabric clung to breasts that felt too heavy and nipples that had refused to relax since Yoichi’s voice first entered my head.

When he stopped speaking into my head, I should have changed into fighting clothes. But I had no time. I went into full defensive prep mode.

I'd laid the brick dust across every doorway and windowsill hours ago, whispering his full name like a nail going in—Yoichi Kurosawa can't cross, Yoichi Kurosawa can't cross. The mix was cut with cayenne, black salt, and powerful graveyard dirt.

I turned every mirror in the hotel room outward just in case he had the power to walk through them like some evil spirits.

On the outside of my circle, I’d quickly put up an altar with four candles—two white and two black—at the corners and a red one in the middle.

What I really needed waited back home in New Orleans, locked behind three deadbolts and a spell I'd sealed with my own blood.

Living defenses were the best things to draw power from. A black rooster under a sheet in the corner. If this Yoichi crossed the threshold, the spelled rooster would scream, and that sound would have hit him harder than any warding I could paint on a wall.

A snake in a basket by the door would have given me a way to bite his ass back.

And, of course, an alligator bound to my blood would have been a creature I could raise onto its hind legs and puppet into boxing Yoichi back to wherever he came from.

But I was in a hotel room in a city that wasn't mine, with brick dust, a quick makeshift altar, and a gun.

I just hoped that would be enough.

My heart boomed in my ears.

What if he isn’t coming? Was I lucky enough to scare him off?

I looked down at the double chalk circle around my bed. It remained unbroken.

If you’re coming, crazy fox spirit, then hurry up. I’ve got a trip to make in the morning, and I want my rest.

My suitcase sat open near the bathroom, packed except for the clothes I planned to wear to the airport. My passport, wallet, and phone waited inside my travel bag on the nightstand.

Everything was ready.

If the next few hours remained quiet, I would leave Kyoto, fly across the ocean, and be home in New Orleans before Yoichi could learn how to pronounce Bourbon Street.

I scanned the space.

I had also strengthened every entrance into the room. Blessed salt lined the windowsills.

Across the hotel-room threshold, I had sprinkled a thick stripe of poud vodou—a ritual powder Aunt Delphine prepared from crushed roots, protective herbs, minerals, and several ingredients she refused to name.

She had given me the little black pouch before my flight. “This is for anything that refuses to respect a closed door.”