A Charmed Life (Coven Corner #3) Page 4

  “Yes, there is,” he said. He dropped his voice lower, so only Hazel could hear, despite the shout of children in the background as they were released for the day or picked up by their parents. “Are you all right?”

  Hazel’s gaze darted up to Nick’s face. His brown eyes were soft, shadowed with concern. Standing this close to him, she could smell the sharp scent of his aftershave. His faded blue t-shirt clung to his shoulders a little too snuggly, making her fingers itch to reach out and touch him, to feel the heat of his skin through that thin fabric…

  “I’m fine,” Hazel rasped. “No harm done.”

  She told herself to move, to take a step back and distance herself. But all she wanted to do was lean into him.

  Nick raised his hand and brushed his knuckles along her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her chin.

  “You had a little bit of ash there,” he whispered.

  But his hand remained where it was and he didn’t pull away, even though the ash must have been long gone by now.

  Hazel swallowed and dropped her gaze. Nick bowed his head and finally let his hand drop.

  “I’d better get going,” he said as he backed up, never taking his gaze away from her.

  Hazel pressed her hand to her cheek where Nick had touched, the lingering heat of his skin still burning with warmth like a fire she couldn’t extinguish.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Hazel heard Phoebe’s sobs before she’d even reached the schoolhouse door.

  “She’s mean! I hate her!” Phoebe wailed.

  “Miss Aven is being perfectly reasonable,” Nick replied. “You need someone to teach you about magic. I can’t do that, Phoebe.”

  “I want Mama to teach me.”

  “She’s not here, sweetheart. So you’re going to behave yourself for Miss Aven and you’re going to clean that schoolhouse from top to bottom until it’s shining like new.”

  Nick’s voice sounded tired, as if he’d heard this argument countless times before but the only response he could give was the same, even if he wished it could have been different.

  Hazel met Nick and Phoebe at the door. Phoebe was dressed in orange leggings, a black sweater, and purple coverall shorts. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were rimmed with red as she stood there, hiccupping despite her defiant glare directed at Hazel.

  Nick’s shoulders drooped, his face a shade paler than his usual golden tan. He was exhausted. But Phoebe still had plenty of fight left in her.

  “Good morning, Miss Aven,” he said. “Sorry we’re running a little late.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Hazel said, waving him off. “You’re here now.”

  She stepped aside to allow them to pass into the schoolhouse. Soot streaked the walls and ash littered the floor in a gray powder like snow.

  “There’s a bucket and some sponges in the classroom, Phoebe,” Hazel said. “You can start there.”

  “You can’t make me,” Phoebe said, crossing her arms. “I’ll only do it with my wand. I want it back.”

  Hazel drew her wand from the pocket of her pants and gave it a twitch, casting a spell over Phoebe.

  Phoebe went rigid and she took a jerky step forward. She shot a dark look in Hazel’s direction. Another step. Another. Then she disappeared around the corner and into the classroom. A moment later, the slosh of water echoed.

  “That doesn’t…hurt, does it?” Nick said. “That spell you just put on her?”

  Hazel shook her head and stowed her wand in her pocket again.

  “No,” she said. “It’s perfectly harmless. Normally, I don’t like to use magic on my students. But Phoebe has an iron will and we need the schoolhouse ready to go by Monday. I have a feeling if we waited for her to cooperate, she would drag this whole thing out much longer than necessary. The spell was merely a nudge in the right direction. It’ll wear off once she’s willing to do the work.”

  Nick nodded but Hazel could still see the concern etched into his face.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he said.

  Hazel raised her eyebrows but before she could respond, Nick continued.

  “I mean, obviously I can’t do anything with magic. But I could…you know…repair windows, floorboards, anything like that.”

  “That’s very kind of you. But there wasn’t any damage. It’s mostly just the soot and ash that needs to be cleaned up and I believe that should be Phoebe’s job alone.”

  “Right.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Then I’ll leave you to it. When should I pick up Phoebe?”

  “Anytime after four o’clock will do.”

  Nick began to turn away then stopped. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to wrestle with himself over something.

  “Miss Aven,” he said.

  “Yes?” Hazel said.

  “This is horrible timing, I know. But to hell with it. We should get around to picking another date for that postponed dinner. We’ve put it off for a whole week. And this weekend will be taken up with Phoebe and the schoolhouse. But I’m sure we could figure out something, right?”

  Hazel sighed. There was no escaping the truth now.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Mr. Butler,” she said.

  Nick nodded. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  “You…did?”

  “Ever since Phoebe was sick, you stopped calling me Nick. It’s always ‘Mr. Butler’. At first, I thought it was because you might be a little…I don’t know…annoyed maybe? I can’t imagine too many women would be happy about their date being interrupted to care for a sick kid.”

  “That’s not…no,” Hazel said. She stepped forward, lowering her voice so Phoebe couldn’t overhear. “Phoebe is my student. And I hadn’t considered how hard it might be on her when her teacher and her father started seeing each other.”

  “I think her behavior is more my fault than yours,” Nick said. “I haven’t dated anyone since the divorce. She doesn’t know how to handle another mother figure in her life. She’s still waiting for Marissa to walk through the door at any moment, no matter how many times I tell her it won’t happen.”

  Hazel didn’t respond. It must be painful to have a reminder every day that the woman you’d loved, the mother of your child, walked out and would never come back.

  “Let me talk to Phoebe,” Nick said. “I’ll smooth things over, get her to understand.”

  “I think she understands perfectly well,” Hazel replied. “That’s why she’s acting out. It’s not an acceptable form of communication but it’s the only way she knows how to cope with what’s going on.”

  Hazel paused and took in a bracing breath for what she was about to say next.

  “Perhaps it’s best if we kept our distance, Mr. Butler. Maintain a professional relationship for Phoebe’s sake. She has enough to adjust to without the two of us adding to her troubles.”

  Hell’s bells, those words tasted so awful and sour in her mouth. She hated the way they weighed in the air, heavy and suffocating.

  Nick ducked his head.

  “Phoebe is the first priority,” he said.

  “Exactly,” Hazel said softly.

  Nick nodded as he stared at the floor. He passed a hand over his face.

  “I knew you’d be good for Phoebe,” he said. “I just didn’t realize you’d be…this good. You’re right, Miss Aven. Thank you for your honesty and for looking after my little girl.”

  Then Nick walked out of the schoolhouse and he didn’t look back. When the door shut behind him with a hollow thump, Hazel felt as if she had just let something slip through her fingers that she desperately wanted.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The days melted into each other as the first tinges of autumn began to appear, blushing the leaves in red and gold. Phoebe continued to refuse performing any magic. She fell further and further behind her classmates with every passing week.

  One evening, as Hazel and Bryony were cleaning up the school house at the end of the day, there was
a knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it!” Bryony called as she skidded by the door of Hazel’s classroom.

  A moment later, Sky’s voice echoed down the hallway.

  “I had some tea and cake left over,” she said. “It’s lovely outside and I was wondering if you and Hazel would care for an impromptu picnic.”

  “Depends on the cake,” Bryony replied. “Apple crumble? Or lemon peach?”

  “Neither. It’s chocolate almond.”

  “With caramel on the top?”

  “Just the way you like it.”

  “I’ll get Hazel and meet you outside at the picnic table.”

  Bryony appeared in the doorway. Hazel held up her hand and spelled the broom back into the closet.

  “I heard,” she said. “Chocolate. With caramel. Sounds like a bribe to me.”

  “Oh, definitely. But I don’t even care.”

  Bryony hurried after Sky, leaving Hazel to follow at her more refined pace. By the time Hazel reached the picnic table, Sky had already set up an entire tea service—delicate blue teacups, tiny squares of cake, a little bowl of fresh apple slices, sprinkled with cinnamon, honey, and cloves for an autumn touch.

  Bryony was already digging into her cake but Hazel stood next to the table and fixed Sky with a steady look.

  “What’s all this about?” she said.

  Sky shrugged as she poured herself a cup of tea. Her engagement ring glinted a deep lavender purple in the late evening light. Amethyst was her birthstone and thus her preferred crystal of choice in witchcraft. One of the first things Aiden had noticed about Sky.

  “Can’t I have a picnic with my friends for no reason?” she said.

  “Of course you can,” Hazel said. She gestured at the food. “But this is blatant bribery. Bryony’s favorite cake. My favorite tea—cinnamon orange from the smell of it. You’re up to something, Sky.”

  Sky sighed and sank down onto the bench seat.

  “I was hoping for a Samhain wedding,” she said.

  Bryony’s eyes went big, her mouth too full of cake to respond. Sky held up her hands.

  “I know it’s short notice,” she said. “With Samhain a little over a month away. But there’s no need for a special ceremony. We’ll just celebrate the wedding the same way we do Samhain. Two birds with one stone.”

  “And?” Hazel prompted.

  Sky blinked. “And what?”

  “There’s more.”

  Sky fiddled with her saucer, her breath short and shallow in her chest. It was taking every ounce of her concentration not to burst right out with whatever it is she’d really come here to talk about.

  “I want the two of you to be my bridesmaids,” she said.

  “Yes,” Bryony said right away. “Do you even have to ask such a question? Of course we’ll do it.”

  But Sky glanced at Hazel, eyebrows raised, expectant and waiting.

  Hazel had been to weddings before but she always felt…out of place. Awkward. She preferred the school house, teaching children, casting spells. There was something about a wedding that felt…unattainable. Like a fairytale. Not quite real. Something she never thought would be hers and yet she couldn’t help wanting it anyway.

  But she couldn’t possibly turn Sky down. They’d been friends since their school days.

  “I’d be honored to be your bridesmaid,” Hazel said.

  Sky reached out and clasped Hazel’s hand in relief. She tugged Hazel down onto the bench beside her.

  “Thank Saint Circe you said yes,” Sky replied. “Because I need your advice about dresses. I have a few ideas that I brought with me but I feel as if I’m completely over my head with this one.”

  She produced a binder with magazine clippings and print outs of dresses and slid the binder over to Hazel.

  Hazel stifled a sigh. She was going to find herself knee-deep in this wedding business in no time.

  ***

  Hazel, Sky, and Bryony discussed wedding plans well into the night. Darkness settled over the table and Hazel cast a spell to light candles that floated overhead, casting a golden glow over everything.

  Despite her initial misgivings, Hazel found that she enjoyed looking through wedding decorations and designs, especially when it was centered around Samhain—her favorite day out of the entire year.

  Eventually, the wedding plans drifted into other topics—business at Sky’s tearoom, Boiled and Brewed. Bryony helping out at Pagan Posies for the autumn harvests. And Hazel, with her new student at Windywings.

  “Bryony told me she’s quite the handful,” Sky said. She tapped her teapot with her wand and boiling water poured into it for another round of tea.

  “Her name is Phoebe and she’s just as much of a challenge as any of my other students have been,” Hazel said, always choosing diplomacy over favoritism when it came to her students.

  Bryony waved her fork in the air with a bite of cake on it.

  “That’s not true,” she said. “Seline was a monster when she started school.”

  “Seline always has more energy than anyone I’ve ever met,” Hazel countered. “She’s a force of nature. A bit like you when you were a student.”

  Bryony grunted. “You were always the proper one. The practical one. Haven’t changed much,” she said with a wry smirk.

  Sky took Hazel’s cup to refill it and she stopped. She angled the cup left and right, peering into it.

  “Hazel,” she said absently. “Have you been seeing anyone? Your tea leaves say that—”

  Hazel placed her hand over the top of the cup, blocking Sky’s view from the map of leaves spread out at the bottom. Gently she pried it from Sky’s grip.

  “I don’t want to know what my tea leaves say, thank you,” Hazel said.

  Sky pointed at the cup. “But—”

  “No,” Hazel repeated. There was no burn in her voice, no anger. Sky didn’t mean to be nosy. She was simply curious sometimes, easily caught up in attempting to read the complexities of the tea leaves.

  But Hazel didn’t want to know what her tea leaves predicted for her.

  Sky huffed and propped an elbow on the table.

  “There’s no harm in it,” she said. “Knowing what the future holds for you.”

  “I realize that,” Hazel replied. “But I’m not really in the mood for a reading at the moment.”

  Sky wrinkled her nose. “Bryony’s never in the mood either. Sometimes I think the two of you don’t put any stock in what I do.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Bryony countered. “Divination is a tricky magical art and not everyone can get the hang of it. I’ve never had any skills for it, nor the patience.”

  “But even you admit, Sky,” Hazel said. “That it isn’t exact. And the readings can get clouded, depending on too many factors.”

  Like Hazel’s feelings for Nick. She knew it was the right thing to do, breaking it off with him before it got serious, for Phoebe’s sake. But there was still an ache in her gut over it and she didn’t need Sky bringing it up, pouring salt in that tender wound.

  “All right,” Sky said. “No reading then if that’s what you want. But my door is always open if you change your mind, day or night.”

  “I appreciate that,” Hazel replied. “Although it’s getting late. We should pack up and get home. Next week, it’s show and tell with the kids and I’ll need to put up a few more protection charms for that.”

  “I always loved show and tell week,” Sky said as she gathered up the teapot and cups, placing them back into her basket.

  “That’s because your familiar was scary as hell,” Bryony muttered.

  “Ceylon is sweet!” Sky objected.

  “Ceylon is huge and dark and she looks like something straight out of a horror novel.”

  “Well, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She doesn’t even hunt these days. Just lazes around in the sun and demands attention.”

  “At least you can’t burn down a school house with your familiar,” Bryony said, sharing a glanc
e with Hazel. “Should be a pretty quiet week.”

  Hazel had the feeling that Phoebe would do everything in her power to prove Bryony wrong on that score.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The following week, Hazel’s classroom was brimming with familiars of every variety—from crows and cats, to ferrets and toads. A few of the students managed to keep their familiars in line with magical leashes. But there were a handful of familiars that escaped the control of their owners. Rats scrambling from one backpack to another. Owls perched on the edge of desks. A snake curled up on the windowsill, sunning itself in the autumn light.

  Hazel clapped her hands once for order.

  The room went silent.

  “Good morning, class,” she said. “Today, I’d like all of you, one by one, to come to the front of the class and tell me about your familiar. First, I’d like someone to explain the definition of what a familiar is.”

  A dozen hands went up in the air.

  Phoebe propped her chin in her hand and stared out the window, ignoring Hazel. Despite the chaos of the classroom, Phoebe sat alone with no familiar at her side.

  Hazel pointed to Seline.

  “Seline,” she said. “Do you have an answer for me?”

  Seline rose from her desk with a nod. “A familiar is an animal that guides you in the use of magic.”

  “Perfect. Why don’t you start us off and tell us about your familiar?”

  Seline gathered her raven onto her shoulder and marched to the front of the class, always eager to show off.

  Hazel left Phoebe alone for a while. She didn’t want to single Phoebe out or put her on the spot, and she certainly didn’t want to play favorites. But it was painful to watch Phoebe fall so far behind her fellow students.

  A parade of students followed Seline’s speech, telling about their familiars. Finally, there were only five students left and Hazel could put Phoebe off no longer.

  “Phoebe,” she said. “Could you tell us about your familiar?”

  “No,” Phoebe replied. Not sullen, for once. Just a solid refusal. She’d grown to understand the power that one word wielded.