Page 16 of Nightmares and Numerology

Wanda’s full lips curved into a smirk, clearly pleased with my reaction. Most witches seemed to thrill in being at least a little terrifying. You could always trust a witch to find mischief wherever she went.

“You should pay better attention. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you, which means you’re dangerously distracted. You only just now realized that lighter has been flaming up in your hand the entire time you’ve been pacing out here?”

I stopped in my tracks, staring down at the lighter once more. I briefly tried to get it to light, but it only made a pathetic sputtering noise, producing only a few sparks before going out. Definitely no flame. Hmm.

Wanda sighed, looking put upon as she took in my confused expression. Then she reached for me, seizing me unceremoniously by the wrist and dragging me up the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?” I asked in a small voice.

“Poppy’s.”

“Why?”

“You two need to talk. She’s the only other gypsy who’ll be able to relate to a muddled power signature.”

“A muddled power signature?”

“That lighter didn’t make itself explode.”

“Then you’re saying I made it do that?”

She looked at me like I was dumb. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Anyway, Poppy will have an answer for you. Maybe you’ll learn something from each other.”

I swallowed thickly. It looked like I’d be paying my cousin’s shop a visit after all.

And all it took was a magical mishap and a witch to kick your ass the whole way there.

***

I’d seen Poppy’s Potions from the outside more than once, usually on my way to and from Sweeter Haunts, the most visited tourist locale in town. It wasn’t every day you waltzed through a tiny hamlet and found a year-round Halloween candy store. It had been fueling my jelly bean addiction for months now. I was pretty sure I had the proprietor of the establishment to blame for the last few pounds I’d packed on.

Poppy’s shop looked less outrageous in comparison, though just as adorable in its own right. She’d chosen an old-school apothecary aesthetic: a large pair of frosted block windows and a heavy oak door wedged in between. Wanda didn’t bother to knock or announce her presence as she dragged me past it, still clutching my wrist like I was a child.

In the face of all the magic in the room, I almost felt like a child. The complexity of some of the enchantments in their tiny glass bottles was staggering. I’d barely begun to learn how to brew, relying heavily on Indigo and Checkers to make anything halfway decent.

If my attempt was a child’s scribbles, this place was the Mona Lisa. Poppy clearly had a talent.

The aroma struck me a second after the magic. It was almost overpowering, after the smell of old pages and roasted coffee beans I was used to. I remembered enough from my uncles to recognize bergamot, allspice, pepperwort, and vetiver. The rest blended into a somewhat muggy background noise that immediately fogged my head. Unlike Wanda’s Witchery, there seemed to be nothing cursed inside.

I reached idly for a crystal, smiling to myself as a pulse of happiness radiated against my palm. It was easier to sense magic now that Indigo had kickstarted mine, but I felt like I still had a lot to learn. Wanda had been right about at least thatmuch. I needed a teacher who understood a blend of magic and could help me make peace with what I had. According to the terse explanation I’d gotten on the way, white witches were slim pickings here. If this was the general tenor of Poppy’s magic, I wouldn’t mind learning from her. It beat relying on Indigo’s dubious morals.

Was it sad that I was half hoping to hear Indie’s indignant squawk in reply to the thought? But the potion we’d made had done its job. She was still fast asleep. I didn’t have anyone else to ruminate with. If she’d been conscious, she’d probably have convinced me to curse Angelo’s junk or something, so maybe it was a mixed blessing. I wasn’t sure I wanted the intentional infliction of warts on my conscience. I’d regret it... eventually.

A door near the back opened, and a blonde woman bobbed into sight, summoned by the tinkling of the bell above the door. Most of her body was obscured by a swaying stack of boxes. Wanda sighed and steadied it before the top two could topple onto the front counter. Then Wanda lifted the very top box to reveal a red-faced, pretty woman. I could see a little of the family resemblance in Poppy’s nose and mouth, but otherwise, we weren’t obviously related. With the witchy dye job I sported, we looked even less alike. I found myself a little envious of Poppy’s softly waving hair. I missed being a blonde.

Poppy blinked in surprise, more color flushing into her face when she realized she’d been about to fumble the box.

“Thanks,” she said in a small voice.

Wanda’s free hand slammed down onto one hip as she fixed Poppy with one of the most chiding looks I’d seen between adults.

“I’ve told you not to do it in one trip. You’re going to end up in an accident, and then I’ll have to deal with the aftermath. If you spill the ones with potions in them, it might be even worse. I might find you lounging across the cash wrap like a sloth.”

Poppy rolled her eyes. “I take the potion orders one by one for that reason. These are recently charged crystals and a few blessed candles. The worst that could happen is I drop the box on my foot, break it, and need a cast.”

“Which will still fall to me, Poppy,” Wanda said with a long-suffering sigh. “Someone will have to drive you to the ER. You’re so lucky to have a coven watching over you; you’d be lost without us.” She paused. “And I don’t want you breaking anything—least of all one of your bones.”

“You are worse than a helicopter parent,” she said, biting her cheek, clearly holding back a smile that made her eyes sparkle. They were a different shade of blue than mine. It was odd to look at someone who shared some of my features but was otherwise so unlike me. I kept expecting her to burst into a ball of sunshine or dandelion fluff. It was a nice change after all the negativity Indigo had dragged into my life.

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