Page 61 of Love's a Witch
“Her magick is misfiring. Something new every day. One day it was fire. Most notably when she lit Knox’s curtains on fire after climbing all over him on the couch in his library.”
Raven sucked in a breath and whirled on me, and my face went mutinous.
“Such a bitch,” I hissed at Lyra.
“We don’t know what today’s magick is because Sloane refuses to try it out again, so it’s exciting times for all of us. We just get to wait and see,” Lyra continued, unbothered by my fury, as every sister everywhere likely was when they purposely enraged their siblings.
I let out air, trying to calm myself, and ended up sounding like a wheezing teakettle. Raven thumped my back while Lyra laughed outright.
“And Mandy is being quite the bitch to Sloane, so I’m sure that’s just adding to the fun of it all for our favorite control freak, isn’t it?” Lyra winked at me when I mimed slicing her neck open.
“That I can at least offer some insight into,” Raven said, seeming to understand that I needed to tackle one thing at a time. “It’s because you’re meant to be the next president of the Charms.”
“What?” Lyra and I said simultaneously, our mouths dropping open in mirrored expressions.
“Aye.” Raven laughed and ran her hands through her long hair, automatically starting to braid it. “She’s been running it since you’ve been gone, but you, or one of you, should have been the next successor.”
“Is it by bloodline? Was our mum a president?”
“Goddess, no. My mum told me everything. Your mum hated everyone and everything to do with the Charms. Refused their help.The only reason she ended up being able to stay as long as she did in Briarhaven was because Broca battled fiercely for your protection. The Charms used to have weekly meetings to shore up the protection of this town against the curse. It took heavy magick to allow you to live here as long as you did. And then one day, your mum just gave up on the town and took you with her. After all we’d done for her to make it so she could stay.”
“Gratitude isn’t a strong suit of hers,” I muttered, shocked at this new information. Sadness rose inside me, the same that was always there when I thought of my parents, along with a bone-deep resentment. So much she’d kept from me. Not only had I had no idea we had a coven, I hadn’t known that we were meant to be running one.
“To say the least.” Raven gave me a sympathetic look. “Mandy’s territorial. She’s run unopposed for years, and we largely have let her because we’ve all been fine with it. She likes to be in charge, most of us have been busy with our own lives, and it’s been fine. Not the greatest, but fine. And not everyone wants to continue to be in the coven. My mum ceded her seat to me, because she didn’t want to do the weekly meetings with Mandy. But now you’re here.”
“I don’t know the first thing about magick, Raven. You know that. Mum was a horrible teacher, and I’m still learning. I don’t want to challenge Mandy for the spot. I can’t even rely on my own magick.” A small thread of despair wound through me, and it made me even more grumpy. I didn’t like feeling helpless—well, frankly, who did? But I was certainly not equipped to be running a coven.
“It sounds like you’ve got bigger things on your mind anyway. So, Knox?” Raven raised an eyebrow at me, and my cheeks flamed again.
I needed a spell to stop blushing. Opening my mouth to deny it all, I was saved by the tinkle of bells from the front door.
“Pub. Later. For a drink?” Raven asked, nodding toward the tourists who had come in and were exclaiming over a bowl of crystals.
“Sure, I’ll see you after work.” Relief filled me that I was escaping an interrogation, for now, and I pulled Lyra out of the shop.
“Mystic Munchies? Pleeease?” Lyra begged, and I relented, even though I wanted to get home and talk to Broca about the language for the curse ritual. I allowed Lyra to drag me down the street toward the colorful bakery, and stepped inside to a crowd of tourists placing their orders.
“This place seriously trips me out.” Lyra looked around, a delighted look on her face, not even seeing how people gawked at her beauty.
“Truly. It’s kind of like a wild mushroom trip.” Not that I knew anything about exotic mushrooms, I’d just heard that certain kinds could make you see colors and whatnot, and this place looked like someone had kicked a palette of paint cans at the walls while under the influence. It didn’t help that the owner, Marcie, wore tie-dye, and had neon-pink braids that reached to her bum.
Broca had told me those braids hid tiny nubs, the barest hint of horns, as Marcie’s father was of an elven clan specific to the fields. Hence the name Mystic Munchies, I supposed, as I studied all the unique and natural ingredients in the baked goods, like lavender, honey, hibiscus, and rose.
The door opened, and Knox walked in, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted tartan shirt and tweed newsboy cap. His eyes found mine, and my breath left me.
A gasp went through the crowd of people, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Knox. It felt like my heart had slowed, its beat irregular in my chest, and I rubbed at my solar plexus, where something felt tight, like I’d sucked down a glass of champagne too fast and the bubbles had lodged.
“Sloane,” Lyra hissed, yanking on my arm, and I broke eye contact with Knox as he strode toward me, an unreadable look on his face. Glancing over at the glass-lined cabinets of the bakery, I froze.
Where there had once been trays piled high with every baked good imaginable, scrumptious scones, decadent brownies, glistening glazed doughnuts, there now lay piles upon piles of mushrooms.
Hundreds of mushrooms, in every color and size.
My mouth dropped open just as Knox reached us and scooped an arm through mine, dragging me across the room and through a door. Slamming it closed behind us, I blinked at the sudden darkness.
“What the hell?”
A dim light flicked on, and I looked around, realizing that Knox had pulled me into a supply closet.
