Ellie gazed across the room at Morgan, the weight of the revealed secret settled across the group like a blanket. The flickering anger at the womans interference in her spell sputtered inside of her mind. Strange to find one such as her so self righteous. This was a poor time for such a revelation, when the job was already so complicated and dangerous, far more so than it had seemed when the group had agreed to take it own. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, letting the slight spike of pain focus her on the present situation, bringing her mind to meditative calm. 

Malone cried out and collapsed into an ancient  armchair, the impact of her body elicited a puff of dust which tickled Ellie’s sinuses. Madeline sneezed violently in response to the impulse, though whether due to bleed over from the link or merely a similar response to a similar sensation there was no way to be sure. Her body hung limply on the furnishing like a blanket, as though the very life had been snatched away, leaving her a nerveless boneless things. The subtle whiff of magic curled in the air like distant powder smoke.

Ellie was at Malone’s side in a moment. The former profilers skin was cool and dry to Ellie’s fingers as she probe for a pulse. It was there, erratic but strong and vibrant beneath the other woman’s skin. The wound in the other woman’s neck was serious but didn’t appear to life threatening. In any crisis situation there was always more information than you could process. It wasn’t so much a matter of what you saw or heard, but how much mental energy you could devote to sorting out a baffling tide of inputs. 

“We need to regroup,” Ellie declared, her words putting her fragmented thoughts into the skeleton of a plan of action.

“Even if this place is secure we need supplies and food, get a team together and grab the basics. I’ll need an emergency first aid kit, as much as you can get without raising attention.” The wound in Malone’s neck shimmered slightly. There were pieces of the ensorcelled weapon still in the wound, she could sense them writhing and burrowing, trying to work their way deeper into Malone’s neck. Standing abruptly she rushed outside to the van to grab her hand bag, inadequate to the task though it may be.  

“Get moving,” she directed as she uncapped her lipstick and began to scribe a circle around Malone and her chair, smearing the dark black pigment into the desired shape. The old carpet made the task difficult but not impossible. The rough fibers were a poor surface for such a task, but the sooner she was able to purge the magical taint from the wound the better it would be for everyone. Part or her didn’t want to attempt even the most basic magic here, there was something rank and oily that lurked behind the veil. SHe looked up at Morgan, what had the place been like in its prime? What was the other woman going through to even return here. Better they were gone and gone soon.