Page 9 of Love's a Witch
“Sloane? You up?” Nova’s voice trailed up the staircase.
“Yup, coming down.” Best to cut that train of thought off immediately, because clearly, I was just in the dry spell of all dry spells. Throwing on a tattered hoodie I’d left behind in my room, with KeepCalm and Carry a Wand scrolled across the front in sequins—a gift from Broca—I tugged on leggings and thick wool socks before padding downstairs and into chaos.
Broca sat in the armchair, legs propped up, wearing a screaming-pink dressing gown with feathers at the cuffs and dripping in diamonds. She could have as easily been lounging on the deck of a yacht somewhere as she was on the faded armchair tucked under the front windows in the living room. Disco music jammed in the background, and Broca held a hand in the air, lightly maneuvering dishes with her magick, while Lyra and Nova dove out of the way in the kitchen.
“This is not helping,” Lyra barked, annoyed.
Everything clattered to the counter as a knock sounded at the door.
“Why?Whyare there people knocking at this door? It isn’t even eight in the morning. Don’t people have to work?” I mimicked a throat punch as I envisioned Knox at our door once more. I stomped across the room and swung the door open, prepared to give him a piece of my mind, only to find a woman in a pale pink pantsuit, with perfectly coiffed blond hair, a plastic smile on her face. Behind her, two women clustered, one smiling and one giving annoyed looks to the snow.
“Welcome to Briarhaven!”
“Holy hell, it’s the fembot,” Nova hissed, gripping my arm from where she’d followed me.
“We’re just so delighted that the MacGregor witches have finally returned, particularly because we’ve taken up your slack in the Charms. I’m sure you’re tired from your travels and based on the condition of this house”—the woman looked past us at the dusty sheets covering much of the furniture in the front room, open disapproval radiating from her face—“I figured you wouldn’t want to cook. Here’s a casserole to sort you out for today.”
“The Charms?” Nova whispered to me. I just shrugged, uncertain of making any sudden movements around the fembot. I eased back as all three women stepped inside.
My eyebrows rose as the woman reached inside her tiny pocketbook and pulled out a steaming casserole dish easily triple the size of her purse.
“Well, that’s a fancy trick,” Lyra said.
“I’m Mandy Meadows, head of the Charms, and your official welcome wagon!” Mandy exclaimed in an upbeat robotic voice. “While your grandmother has managed to keep your legacy seats open by attending our coven meetings by Zoom, it’s so much better now that you’re here.”
I tuned back in to what Mandy was chattering on about, zeroing in on her tight smile and wide blue eyes.
“Wait. What? Legacy seats?” I swiveled to look at Broca. “What is she talking about?”
“Och, darlings, it’s your coven, of course.”
“Our coven?” Lyra sucked in a breath of excitement. She’d always been more into the witchy stories our mother had told us than either Nova or I had been. It had suited me to ignore our bloodline, seeing as the only thing that had come from it so far had been misery and disrupted routines. The appearance of one Mandy Meadows, looking like a country club woman hopped up on speed, had slammed our heritage back to reality for us.
“Your mother didn’t tell you about your coven?” Broca’s face fell.
“No.” The word almost came out on a growl.
“That’s right.” Mandy beamed and nodded, a touch too effusively for my taste, like one of those bobblehead figures you picked up at a petrol station and attached to the dashboard. “You have legacy seats in the most elite coven in Briarhaven—the Charms.”
Right, time to nip this in the bud.
“I have no idea what you’re saying to me.” I stepped forward, gripping Mandy’s arm lightly, and propelled her toward the door. “But I’m sure we can find another time to talk about this. We’ve had a long few days of travel and haven’t seen our grandmother in years.” Mum had done her best to cut us off from Broca, dragging us aroundthe States, and by the time I’d been old enough to take charge of my sisters, we’d just been trying find our feet on our own. And frankly, none of us had been quite ready to come back to Scotland. Now, seeing Broca again in person, I realized just how much we’d missed her.
“I know a great house cleaner.” This from a woman who looked eager to please, in a neon-pink jumpsuit, chaotic hair, and huge tote bag at her shoulder that looked like it could carry enough weapons to take down a small army. “I’m Felicity Sheridan, vice president of the Charms. Never harm, always charm!” I swear she almost saluted.
I glanced over my shoulder at Nova, who mouthed to me,Never harm, always charm. I bared my teeth at her like a cat hissing, and turned back to the third woman, who gave me a knowing look.
“Tam Sullivan. Treasurer and all-around badass, if I do say so myself.” Tam pumped my hand so vigorously my bones rattled. A woman in her early fifties, she wore an Adidas tracksuit and had close-cropped hair and lively, intelligent eyes. “Don’t let these two indoctrinate you.”
“Oh, for goddess’s sake, Tam. You’ve just met them,” Mandy hissed, turning to glare at Tam.
“Someone’s got to dull the brunt of you two.”
“Really? Are we that difficult? I like to think we’re everyone’s favorite witches. Like fairy floss and lollipops.” Felicity put her hands on her hips, looking like an enraged gnome, with her messy bun of hair wobbling on top of her head.
“Who says fairy floss is everyone’s favorite?” Tam tucked her hands in her pockets.
Felicity gasped like Tam had just told her she drowned kittens before breakfast every morning.
