Page 20 of Potions and Proposals
“Morning, girl,” Lucy cooed, reaching for her furry friend, in desperate need of a cuddle.
To her surprise, Chaos jumped out of her reach, arching her back as though Lucy were the enemy.
“What’s wrong with you?” She followed the cat, who quickly hopped on top of her antique wardrobe and out of her reach. “Fine, stay up there!” Chaos had never run from her before; this morning was getting stranger by the minute.
Her old alarm clock told her she had an hour to open the library. She didn’t have time to worry about her element being off or her cat ignoring her.Grabbing a pair of sheer spotty black tights and a dark green sweater dress which hugged her curves, she shoved them under her arm in a bundle, picking black ankle boots to keep her warm. Her feet were a little sore after going barefoot through the forest. Taking her phone from thenightstand, she grimaced when she saw she had twenty missed calls. Hopefully Rosie had her clothes and wasn’t too mad at her for running off.
Why did I have to take off my clothes? I’m never drinking anything Luisa gives me again.She made her way down the attic stairs, listening to Rosie’s panicked voice note once she reached the bathroom.
“LUCY! Call me when you get this! How could you run off like that? You scared us to death. I tracked you to Matherson Manor, but the gate was locked. How did you end up there? I’ve got your clothes – please, please let me know you’re okay. I’m never letting you drink Luisa’s tea ever again.”
Thank goodness Rosie hadn’t tracked her inside the manor and caused a scene in the middle of the night. Not wanting to wake her friend, Lucy decided a text would be best.
I’m fine, please don’t worry. I’m home safe and sound. Thank you for keeping my clothes and no I will never drink any of L’s tea again! Sorry for scaring you all. I’ll see you later and we can talk. X
In the shower, she untangled a cobweb from her mess of dark hair. The night came back to her in vague flashes. Staring up at the stars by a pool, the manor rooftop. As she washed dirt from the random parts of her body, she could have sworn she remembered Benedict washing her feet. She groaned in humiliation, letting the hot water burn away the memories.
She didn’t remember how she’d got to the room. Only the warmth of resting her head against Benedict’s chest, the sound of his heartbeat. How she fitted perfectly in the crook of his arm.
No, no, no. I didn’t fit perfectly anywhere. It was the tea. He was just being a decent human being. Oh God, did I ask him to stay with me? He has to know it was the tea. There’s no way he thought I was in my right mind last night.
Steam billowed around her, and she darted out of the path of suddenly scorching water.What the hell is up with the water?She stared up at the nozzle. The dial was on her usual setting; she hadn’t bumped it or anything.Did I somehow heat the water? No way! It might be the boiler acting up again.She got out, afraid more memories of the previous night would surface if she stayed in any longer.
Dressed, she swept her hair up into a loose ponytail. At least her fringe helped conceal her tired eyes, still red from having worn her contacts too long. Her glasses would also cover the less-than-perfect job she’d done on her eyeliner – something she wouldn’t attempt again while hungover.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Lucy stared at the toaster, waiting for it to pop. Her fringe had dried quickly, though the ends were a little damp. She pulled her sleeves over her hands; the house was always a little chilly in the mornings, thanks to all the old windows and stone walls. She hoped she wasn’t getting a cold after running half-naked through the woods last night.
Without warning, the toaster burst into flames, filling the kitchen with black smoke.
“Holy hell!” she cried, yanking the plug from the wall before summoning her water magic to extinguish it. To her amazement, the flames only grew as she tried to use her element. She froze. The flames licked at the counter, threatening to spread.
“What in the goddess is going on?” Grams hurried up behind her in her floral robe. Her pink curlers were still in her white hair.
“I don’t know! I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t—” Lucinda stammered.
Grams clapped her hands. The fire disappeared, leaving only smoke behind. Lucy opened the windows above the sink, letting it escape, and wiped her steamed-up glasses, stopping when she realised her hands were shaking.
Grams took hold of her hands, trying to soothe her, only to snatch her hand away as though she’d been scalded. “You’re burning up!” she exclaimed.
“What do you mean?” Lucy touched her hand to her cheek; it felt cool. “Feels normal to me.”
“How did the fire start?” Grams asked, tightening her robe around her waist.
“I don’t know. I was thinking about the binding with Benedict,” she lied, unable to explain that she’d been remembering how her sort-of-fiancé had found her wandering in the woods in her underwear. “I can’t explain it.”
“How did you feel in the moment before the flames burst?”
“Overwhelmed? Then the toaster was on fire!”
“Could you havesetit on fire?” Grams asked carefully, raising her fair eyebrows.
Lucy shook her head. “That’s not possible. It was an old toaster. I probably put the setting up too high. I was preparing Chaos’s breakfast; I could have hit the dial.” It must have been a mistake. Why did her grandmother’s questioning gaze make her so anxious? “Don’t look at me like that! I can’t be channelling fire! No one in our family has ever done that. Also, it’s far too late for another element to show itself.” Once the brain was fully developed at twenty-five, so did the possibility of developing another element.
“There’s a first for everything. I think we should talk to your mum about this,” Grams said, rocking back and forth on her slippered heels.
If it was just the fuse, why did Grams think my skin was burning?Lucy remembered the boiling water in the shower this morning. Had she caused that too? She needed to escape the conversation. She forced herself to smile, to conceal her concern so that Grams would let her leave.
“Later. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. It was an old toaster – we’re probably overthinking this.” The last thing she wanted was her mum asking what she had been up to in the last twenty-four hours. There was still the chance it was the tea, and she didn’t want her mother to think she wasn’t coping with the Benedict and coven situation.
