Jinxed (Coven Corner #1) Read online

  “No, of course not.”

  Sky’s gaze dropped to the amethyst’s box. Alchemy. She had never even come close to that level of magic and she never would. But Aiden had rattled it off as easily as breathing. It made her feel in equal parts both fascinated and inferior at the same time.

  Aiden extended his hand.

  “I don’t believe I introduced myself the other day when you were here before,” he said. “I’m Aiden Hall.”

  “I know who you are,” Sky said.

  As soon as the words were in the air, lingering with their awkwardness, Sky clamped down on her tongue until she winced. Why didn’t she just take two seconds to think before she spoke?

  Aiden raised his eyebrows. “I take it word spreads fast about newcomers in Wildemoor.”

  “You have no idea,” Sky said.

  And this time, thankfully, she did not say aloud, especially when that newcomer looks as attractive as you do.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aiden Hall,” she added.

  Stars above, Aiden’s eyes were still too bright. His gaze darting over her face as if he couldn’t get enough of looking at her.

  Maybe that love spell was a little stronger than Sky thought.

  “This is a nightmare,” she mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?” Aiden said.

  “It’s…I…I’m late, to open my tearoom,” Sky said.

  She turned, grabbed the amethyst’s box, and ran from the shop. As the door closed behind her, Sky risked a glance back to see Aiden leaning on the counter with one elbow, his fingers laced together, his head tilted to the side as he watched her leave.

  It was only when Sky ran all the way home and slammed the door behind her, that she realized she still hadn’t managed to break the spell.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  That evening, Sky’s crystal ball cast a blue glow throughout her house as someone tried to contact her. Hazel’s voice called out in that school teacher tone, leaving no room for argument, only obedience.

  “Sky Sangrey,” she said. “We need to talk.”

  Sky dragged herself out of the kitchen and into her living room where she held sessions for her clients. The crystal ball was covered with a dark blue cloth but the pale light that emanated from it was still strong. She drew the cloth aside to see Hazel staring back.

  “I’m assuming your visit to Spellbound didn’t go very well today,” she said.

  Sky attempted to hedge in order to buy herself some time.

  “What do you mean?” she said.

  Even to her own ears, her voice sounded high-pitched and false. An obvious lie. She had never been very good at hiding the truth.

  “I mean that I ran into Aiden today and he was still clearly bewitched,” Hazel replied.

  Sky swore and plopped onto the couch. She propped her chin in her hand with a sigh.

  “I tried,” she said. “I really did. But it’s stronger than I realized. I’ve never cast a spell like this before. How am I supposed to break it?”

  “Would you like some help?”

  “No,” Sky said in a rush.

  Hazel’s lips tightened into a thin, disapproving line. Sky was dancing her way towards a lecture if she wasn’t careful.

  “I appreciate the offer though,” she hurried to add. “But I need to do this on my own. I got myself into this. It’s only fair that I get myself out of it.”

  “Any other witch might take advantage of the situation,” Hazel said in a rather blithe tone, as if the suggestion wasn’t intended to drive home the point she had every intention of making.

  “Well, I’m not any other witch,” Sky countered. “I feel terrible it happened.”

  “And you’re not enjoying Aiden’s attention at all?”

  Sky’s reply hitched in her throat and she fumbled.

  “That’s what I thought,” Hazel said.

  “No!” Sky protested too late. “It’s not like that.”

  Hazel remained silent. She blinked once, slowly, her head tilted to the side, as if daring Sky to continue carrying out that lie before it collapsed beneath her like every other lie she ever told.

  “Fine,” Sky said. “All right. I am enjoying it. A little bit. But I know it’s not real. And I know it won’t last. I just…”

  She scrubbed her hands over her face.

  “He’s new to town, Hazel,” she said, her tone miserable. “And this is how I welcome him? By casting a love spell over him, taking away his free will. He’ll hate me when I tell him the truth.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Not until I break the spell,” Sky said.

  “So dragging it out would ease the blow better?”

  Sky huffed, grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it.

  “I hate when you’re right,” she said. “Can’t you abandon your practical sensibilities just this once?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Hazel said in an apologetic tone. “Especially if you decide to make it a habit of casting errant love spells on every good looking man you happen to cross paths with.”

  Sky groaned. “It was one time! And an accident!”

  Hazel hummed as if to say, Sure it was.

  Sky took a deep breath and sat up. She set the pillow aside, smoothed her hair into place again.

  “Can we please talk about something besides Aiden Hall?” she said. “He’s all I’ve heard about for many days and I’m rather tired of it.”

  “Fair enough,” Hazel said. “Are you coming to the Mabon celebration on Saturday?”

  Sky managed a smile of relief. Finally. A change of topic that did not tangle her stomach up into confusing knots.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied.

  “I have my students putting together a few decorations this week.”

  “And I’m baking some tea cakes to go along with the tea I’ll be bringing. I’m more than ready to welcome autumn and see what changes the new season will bring. My tearoom could use a good cleansing too.”

  Then Hazel got this look in her eye. A smug little grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  “You should ask Aiden if he’d like to go,” she said.

  Sky’s smile dropped.

  “You’re not funny,” she said.

  “You said it yourself,” Hazel pointed out. “He’s new in town. You’ve already got him wrapped around your little finger.”

  “Hazel…” Sky pleaded.

  “All right, all right. Suit yourself. I’ll see you at the celebration.”

  She paused and it almost seemed as if she would add something else. Something about bringing a certain guest along.

  But in the end, she simply severed the connection and Sky was left with the echo of her mistake, hanging over her head like a thundercloud she couldn’t escape.

  ***

  The autumn equinox was Sky’s last hope. With the changing of the seasons, from the lush youth of summer to the aging bones of autumn, there would be plenty of magical energy to draw from.

  Up ‘til now, the counter spells she had used were too small and inconsequential. So Sky would double her efforts with an altar, calling upon goddesses to help her make amends for her error.

  To do that, she needed rosemary and there wasn’t nearly enough leftover in her tea tins.

  Besides, there was one person who she hadn’t consulted with yet on this disaster she had created.

  Bryony Torres.

  The Torres family owned Pagan Posies and Bryony could always be found tending the orchard or weeding in the greenhouses, grass stains on her knees, dirt on her hands, a sunburn blazing across her freckled cheeks.

  Where Hazel was sensible with her direct, head-on approach to matters, Bryony didn’t mind taking a more circuitous route to solving problems. And that’s exactly what Sky hoped would help her now.

  Sky closed up Boiled and Brewed early. She swept her broomstick off of its rack by the door and within seconds, she was in the air, flying over Wildemoor.

  The little t
own of barely one hundred witches and warlocks grew even smaller as Sky sailed over trees and roofs, farms and gardens. It was tempting to think that if she flew far enough and long enough she might outrun her problems and leave them behind. Forget about Aiden Hall and his sharp cheekbones, his grey eyes, his easy smile that turned her knees to mush in a heartbeat.

  But soon, the landscape of Pagan Posies sprawled out below. Along one edge of the property was the orchard, with half a dozen Torres children scrambling through the trees to hang fairy lights for Mabon. On the other side of the clearing were three long greenhouses, brimming with greenery of all kinds, from herbs and flowers, to cactus and mushrooms.

  Sky directed her broomstick down towards the first greenhouse and skidded to a stop. Her boots slid on the slick grass and her broomstick left a small rut in the ground but at least she was learning to land without crashing now. Sometimes flying was just as much of a mystery to her as casting spells.

  Sky peered into the swath of plants that wreathed the greenhouse entrance. Peach-orange trumpet flowers nodded in greeting, sprawling in a haphazard arch over the doorframe. A carpet of moss and thyme, peppered with pale pink flowers, softened Sky’s footfalls and sent up a pleasant aroma of lemon.

  “Bryony?” she called. “Are you in here?”

  “Yep!” Bryony called back, muffled from…somewhere.

  Sky remained at the threshold of the greenhouse, standing on tiptoe in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Bryony.

  A mop of red curls poked up from behind a wall of hollyhocks. Bryony raised one dirt-stained hand and waved.

  “I’m here!” she said. “Just come on in. Nothing bites or stings in here. That’s the next greenhouse over and it’s locked for a reason.”

  Sky picked her way along a faded path of stones, covered over with downy patches of grass. As she weaved through the plants and pots, her clothes brushed against leaves and stalks, sending a cloud of scents filling the air—dill, basil, peppermint, St. John’s wort.

  Bryony finally stood, dusting her hands on her pants. There was a streak of mud across one cheekbone and her crop top purple t-shirt had berry stains on the sleeves. She grinned at Sky, her curls nearly hiding her sparkling green eyes.

  “Hey, Sky,” she said. “Are you here to pick up some goodies in preparation for Mabon?”

  “Partly,” Sky said. “I do need some rosemary.”

  “Got it right over here.”

  Bryony dove into the greenery again and popped up on the other side of the greenhouse. She snipped off a few branches with a pair of shears and pushed through the overgrown plants to Sky’s side again. She tied the bundle together with a rough knot of twine and handed it to Sky.

  “You’re all set,” she said. “Now, what’s on your mind? You’ve got that little wrinkle starting in the middle of your forehead again. Usually means you’re thinking too much.”

  Bryony twirled one finger and pressed it to Sky’s forehead with a slight push that sent Sky rocking back on her heels. Sky frowned and touched her forehead.

  “I’m only twenty-four,” she said. “I don’t have wrinkles yet.”

  Bryony humphed. “If you say so.”

  She plucked at a nearby pansy, tickling it beneath its chin. The flower head bobbed upward, face turned towards the light.

  As a hedge witch, Bryony had a natural affinity for everything earth and plant related. Even in the dead of winter, Bryony could make the most exotic, tropical flowers bloom in the middle of a snowstorm.

  Meanwhile, Sky never had a green thumb. Once or twice, she tried to keep a set of herbs in pots on the kitchen window sill. But she always seemed to forget something they desperately needed–water or fertilizer or sunlight. And it didn’t take long before they were merely brown stubs in the pots and Sky found herself making a trip to Pagan Posies anyway for the herbs she needed for her teas.

  The only horticultural expertise Sky had was identification of certain plants, particularly the ones she used in her tearoom. If she made an error when it came to the selection of herbs, she might poison her clients. And that would simply be terrible for business.

  Bryony tucked her hands in the back pockets of her faded denim overalls. She raised her eyebrows and waited for Sky to start talking. Sky sighed as a cherry red ladybug waddled up the stem of a henbane flower.

  “Do you happen to know,” Sky said. “How to break a love spell?”

  Bryony rocked back on her heels. Her bare toes wiggled deeper into the mossy ground as she considered. She squinted off into the distance, thinking.

  “Depends on the spell,” she said.

  “It was an accident.”

  “Oh! In that case, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  As if that solved the problem, Bryony plucked her pruning shears from her pocket and began dead-heading the henbane, tossing the spent blooms into a small bucket for compost.

  Sky fiddled with the rosemary, twisting and crushing the thin, spear-like leaves between her fingers.

  “Well, I am worried about it,” Sky said. “And I can’t seem to stop.”

  Bryony cut a full dark purple blossom of henbane and tucked it into the buttonhole of Sky’s coat.

  “Does this have anything to do with Spellbound by any chance?” Bryony said. “Hazel said you stumbled into a good thing but she was rather light on the details unfortunately.”

  Sky wrinkled her nose. Bryony laughed softly.

  “Come on, Sky. It’s Wildemoor. Word always travels fast around here. Besides, you’ve been avoiding Aiden Hall ever since he arrived in town.”

  Bryony gestured at Sky with her shears.

  “When we were kids, you avoided cute boys like the plague. You ran away and then ogled them from a distance.”

  “I don’t ogle,” Sky protested.

  “Okay,” Bryony said. “Then you prefer to view your quarry from afar. Either way, you like a pretty view. And Aiden Hall is one hell of a view.”

  Sky swatted Bryony’s arm. “If you’re going to mock me, I’ll go somewhere else.”

  Bryony cackled. She moved past Sky and caught the end of her scarf, pulling her towards the door.

  “Walk with me to the orchard,” she said. “We can pick apples while you explain to me how you bewitched Aiden Hall to fall in love with you. Because I cannot wait to hear how you got yourself into this.”

  Sky groaned and slumped after Bryony, out of the greenhouse and down to the apple trees. Bryony flicked two fingers towards an abandoned wooden basket beneath the nearest tree and it went floating in Sky’s direction. Sky wrapped her arms around it and launched into the disastrous tale of how she met Aiden for the first time, the love potion, the warmth of accidental magic that had tingled at her fingertips.

  Bryony nodded to indicate she was listening as she climbed the tree and settled into a crook of branches. Her bare feet swung back and forth and she wiggled her fingers, whispering a spell under her breath.

  Lush, shiny red apples came bobbing out of the leaves, one by one. They drifted through the air and landed gently in Sky’s bucket.

  “So,” Sky said. “Now Aiden is bewitched. Because of me. He won’t look at anyone else. Not even Bianca Lovett.”

  Bryony grunted. “I don’t see what’s so special about Bianca Lovett.”

  Sky glanced down at the apples in her basket.

  “She’s an excellent dancer,” she said.

  “And you’re an excellent diviner.”

  Sky rolled her eyes. Bryony shrugged.

  “All I’m saying is that maybe he’s just not interested in her.”

  “You didn’t see the way Bianca was so comfortable with Aiden. They looked…perfect. Like they belonged together. What if my love spell is ruining their chance of happiness?”

  “How do you know they’d be happy together?”

  Sky opened her mouth to protest then snapped it shut. She didn’t know. Not exactly. She just…felt it. The same way she felt more than discerned the shapes that formed when she read tea l
eaves.

  “No comeback for that, I notice,” Bryony said in a wry tone.

  She rolled off of the branch and dropped to the ground. There were leaves in her hair and bits of bark clinging to her shirt. Bryony huffed a breath of air to move a curl off of her forehead.

  “Did you really need the rosemary?” she said.

  “Yes. I’m hoping to set up an altar and call upon a goddess to help me break the spell during the Mabon celebration.”

  Bryony shrugged one shoulder and took the basket of apples from Sky. “Why? What’s the hurry?”

  “Because it’s not right, Bryony,” Sky said.

  Bryony shrugged again and started walking. She picked an apple from a branch as she passed and bit into it. Juice dripped down her chin.

  “I still don’t see the problem here,” she said. “You said it yourself. The love spell was an accident. And no offense, but your spellwork has never been your strong suit.”

  Sky frowned at Bryony’s back. “You don’t have to remind me. I’m well aware of my inadequacies, thank you very much.”

  Bryony held up a hand. “Don’t look at me like that. Spellwork is your weak spot. And you know I’ve got plenty of weak spots myself.”

  Sky tilted her head to the side.

  “Well, you do need help with dream interpretation.”

  Bryony nodded. “I will readily admit that I can’t make heads or tails of dreams.”

  “And your communication with spirits is spotty at best. You’re a bit too brash with them and not welcoming enough.”

  Bryony slowed to a stop and cocked her hip out, eyes narrowed.

  “Are you finished putting my flaws on display?” she said. “Do you feel better now?”

  Sky smiled and fished an apple from the basket, bumping Bryony’s shoulder. She polished the apple with the edge of her sleeve.

  “A little,” she said.

  “Now that you’ve dragged me through the mud along with you,” Bryony said. “Do you want to hear my advice?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Don’t bother breaking the spell,” she said.

  Sky stopped, the apple halfway to her mouth.

  “Just hear me out,” Bryony said. “You said that it was accidental.”