Page 1

CHAPTER 1

“C rows are harbingers of death, you know.”

Elora bit back her immediate urge to mutter a tongue binding spell aimed at the faceless voice behind her. One, the Witches and Warlocks Council would fine her for the spell, and two, while Charissa probably wouldn’t fire her for using the spell on a customer, she would be disappointed in Elora.

Disappointing Charissa was nearly as awful as disappointing Elora’s grandmother or sister.

Elora slid the spell book back onto the shelf behind the counter, plastered a ‘how can I help you’ smile on her face, and turned around.

The voice belonged to a white woman in her early thirties. She wore a long, dark cloak, foundation too pale for her skin, and truly impressive black eyeliner wings. A dragonfly clip held her dyed red hair in a twist, and some rather hideous looking costume jewelry weighed her down.

Elora was still hit and miss on whether she could recognize if a witch were a witch by blood or apprentice, but she had no problem with this particular customer. The faint lilac shimmer surrounding her was a dead giveaway to her blood magic. Humans, paranormals, and other magical creatures wouldn’t notice the shimmer, and plenty of witches wouldn’t either, but as Elora’s powers grew, so did her ability to see the colourful iridescent auras that surrounded the more powerful witches and warlocks.

The witch stared at the large black crow sitting on the perch behind the counter. “When did Charissa get a familiar?”

Elora tried not to bristle. “Lilianna is not Charissa’s familiar.”

The witch turned her gaze to Elora. “So, she’s yours?”

“She’s no one’s familiar,” Elora said. “Her life is her own to do as she wishes.”

“Be careful with the bird,” the witch said. “She is no ordinary crow.”

“I’m aware,” Elora said stiffly. She was trying not to be insulted and failing badly. Did the woman think Elora was new to the craft?

“I don’t recognize you,” the witch said haughtily. “Did Charissa just hire you?”

She pronounced Charissa’s name correctly - Ka-ree-sa - which meant she knew Elora’s boss well, so Elora needed to be even more polite than she usually was with customers.

“Elora’s worked here for over a year, Deidre.” Charissa pushed past the curtain that separated the back room from the shop. Her ink-coloured curls fell in a shiny, bouncy mass to her shoulders, and she wore faded jeans and a boho top. Around her neck, the witch’s knot pendant surrounded by a red pearl resin gleamed against her dark skin.

The green shimmer surrounding Charissa was a dark forest green instead of its usual emerald. She was annoyed about something.

Charissa stopped next to Lilianna, and the crow dipped her head to rub her beak across Charissa’s curls. She stroked the crow’s back with one finger before smiling at Deidre. “It’s been nearly fourteen months since you’ve been in the shop.”

Deidre gave her a startled look. “Have I been gone that long?”

“Yes.” Charissa stood next to Elora behind the counter. “The Pilgrimage of Sun and Stars often interferes with a witch or warlock’s ability to keep track of time.”

“It’s true,” Deidre said with a loud sigh. “I mean, it’s worth it, but I have been a bit… absentminded because of it.”

She glanced again at Lilianna. “That isn’t just a crow, you know.”

Elora wondered if Charissa would object if she made Deirdre the recipient of a sour jar spell.

“I’m aware. What can I help you with today, Deidre?” Charissa said.

Elora slipped past Charissa without waiting to hear Deirdre’s reply. Another customer, in his early twenties and with the earnest look of a newbie, hovered at the plants and herbs wall, staring intently at the bunches of dried herbs in clear packaging, potted plants, and powders in glass jars.

As Elora joined him, she stared at the small leather charm bag he held in his right hand. No shimmering aura surrounded him, but Elora didn’t need to see an aura to know he was a warlock by apprentice, not by blood.

Some apprentice witches and warlocks just had a look about them and were easy to spot. It wasn’t always that way - her best friend Cece was a witch by apprentice, but most blood witches wouldn’t know just by looking at her.

Elora’s chest tightened at the thought of Cece, and she had to work hard to keep her smile on her face. She hadn’t wanted to go to work today, she’d wanted to stay with Cece just like she’d been doing since the day of the funeral, but Cece had insisted she go. Elora had already missed two days of work, and neither she nor Cece were swimming in extra money. Still, she felt guilty about leaving her, even if Kinsley and Maisie were with her.

The four of them had met a few years ago at a learn to salsa class, of all places, and forged a fast connection. But Elora and Cece had become exceptionally close, just like Kinsley and Maisie had done, and Elora hated leaving Cece when she was grieving. The death of Cece’s aunt Sybil had been a shock to all of them, and even now, a week after the funeral, Elora couldn’t entirely accept that she’d never see Sybil again.

She pushed the somber thoughts to the back of her mind and smiled at the young warlock. “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Still clutching the charm bag, he pulled a tattered piece of paper from his pocket. “Uh, I’m looking for marshmallow root, dried rosemary, and bloodroot. It’s for a folk magic spell.”

Again, not surprising. Most apprentice witches only practiced folk magic. Some blood witches looked down on them for it, which, in Elora’s opinion, was ridiculous. Folk magic could be a powerful magic in its own right, and both humans and paranormals benefited from it. Which, in turn, helped the witch community. A lot of witches and warlocks made their living from creating folk magic spells and potions for the humans and paranormals.

“We have all three of those,” Elora said. “Is it for a specific spell?”

“Yes, it’s for a healing spell,” he said. “An, um, skin healing spell.”

Elora frowned. “You shouldn’t need bloodroot for that.”

He glanced at the paper again, scratching absentmindedly at his chest. “Maybe I wrote it down wrong?”

“You probably need burdock root,” Elora said. Wings flapped behind her, and Lilianna landed with a soft thump on her shoulder. The warlock took a step back, giving Lilianna a nervous look.

“That’s the biggest crow I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t worry,” Elora said cheerfully as Lilianna groomed her hair, “she’s harmless.”

“Right,” the man said but continued to keep his distance.

Honestly, it was probably for the best. Lilianna didn’t like men, and Elora’s statement about Lilianna being harmless was a rather bold lie. She had, after all, once watched Lilianna pluck out the eyeball of a jaguar shifter and eat it. Of course, said jaguar shifter had been about to kill Elora, so Elora certainly wouldn’t judge Lilianna for her eyeball plucking.

The warlock studied his paper. “I think you’re right. I think I wrote it down wrong, and it is burdock root I need.”

“Probably,” Elora said, “but if it isn’t, as long as you haven’t opened the packaging, you can return the burdock root for a full refund.”

“Okay,” the warlock said. “I’ll take the burdock root, then.”

“Perfect.” Elora helped him gather what he needed and was happy to see that Deirdre was gone when she walked him to the counter. Charissa rang it through, and Elora put the herbs and powders into a brown paper bag.

The warlock thanked them and headed for the door, nodding to the tall, dark-haired man who walked in just as he was leaving. A warm smile crossing her face, Elora hurried out from behind the counter as Lilianna cawed softly.

“Bren!” She hugged him hard. Lilianna made a disgruntled caw when Bren’s hand brushed against her, and she flapped her wings at him before flying back to her perch behind the counter.

“Nice to see you too, Lilianna,” Bren called.

Lilianna snapped her beak in more of a ‘you annoy me’ way rather than an ‘I’m about to pluck out your eyeball’ way. She leaned forward on her perch and rubbed her beak along Charissa’s hair until the witch turned and petted her head.

“You need a haircut,” Elora said to Bren.

He laughed. “You sound like Kaida.”

“How is she doing? Oh my God, did she have the baby?”

“She’s only four months pregnant, and you just saw her last week,” Bren said.

“Sure, but she looked ready to pop already, and it seemed rude to ask how long a dragon’s pregnancy lasts,” Elora said.

“Actually, it is shorter than a human. Only seven months,” Bren said.

“Wild,” Elora said. You’ll be a dad in three months, Bren.”

Bren’s smile turned impossibly big. After Cece, Bren was her best friend, and Elora couldn’t be happier for him. Before he met his mate, Kaida, Bren had lived in the apartment across from Elora and her grandmother, Helen. Helen took an immediate liking to him, even though he was a human and a detective, and she spent months trying to make him and Elora fall in love, even going so far as to dose him with an illegal love potion.

It hadn’t worked. Bren was good looking, funny, and smart as hell, but Elora had never once felt anything for him beyond friendship. And Bren felt the same way about her. Helen had been more than disappointed, but when Bren fell in love with a dragon shifter, she’d given up. Elora’s grandmother might have been one of the most powerful witches in the city, but even she wouldn’t mess with a dragon.

“So, what’s up?” Elora asked.

“I was in the neighbourhood and thought I’d pop in,” Bren said.

Elora gave him a look. “You, a human, just happened to be in a neighbourhood that is ninety-eight percent paranormal for both people and businesses. That’s what you’re telling me right now?”

Bren grinned. “Yes?”

She poked him in his flat stomach. “Tell me the truth, buddy.”

“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” Bren said. “I haven’t really talked to you since the funeral.”

A wave of love for Bren washed over her. Despite only knowing Cece peripherally, both he and Kaida had attended her aunt’s funeral. Elora had been grateful for their support.

“I’m doing okay,” Elora said. “Still sad and worried about Cece, but okay.”

“Good. Kaida wants you to come for dinner next week if you have time.”

“I do,” Elora said. “Thanks, Bren.”

“Bren?” Charissa joined them, holding out a blue glass bottle sealed with wax around the cork. “This is for your mate.”

“What is it?” Bren asked as he took the bottle.

“It’s a potion. Tell Kaida to sprinkle the contents around the perimeter of your land. It’ll help keep the human lookie-loos from getting too close to the cabins.”

The dragon clan lived outside of the city in a relatively remote section of Parsons Woods, but that hadn’t stopped some humans from driving out to their property to stare at them like they were animals in the zoo. Although interest and fascination had died off somewhat in the last few months, there were still plenty of humans willing to trespass on private property for a potential glimpse of a dragon.

Bren studied the bottle, his face a bit apprehensive. “It’s legal, right?”

Elora couldn’t blame him for asking. Not only was he a detective, but with the existence of dragon shifters only recently revealed to humans, their relationship was tenuous, at best. While some humans weren’t bothered by this new knowledge, most humans, and even some other paranormals, were convinced the dragons were one breath away from destroying humanity with fire.

Elora was of the opinion that if the dragon shifters had wanted to destroy humans, they would have done it long ago, but she was one of the few who held that opinion.

But Bren obviously had a vested interest in the dragon shifters maintaining peace with the humans and wouldn’t want anything even remotely illegal connected to them.

Charissa grinned at him. “Perfectly legal, Bren. If humans get too close, the smell of the potion gives them nothing more than a case of the,” she paused, her smile growing wicked, “tummy rumbles.”

“That,” Elora said, “means she concocted something that’ll make them shit their pants.”

Charissa laughed but neither confirmed nor denied it. “It’s my way of saying thank you to your mate and her clan for supplying me with dragon scales.”

Charissa wasn’t just a powerful witch. She was also one of the most powerful potion makers in the city. Humans, paranormals, and even other witches often hired her to create potions. They were all on the up and up - Charissa was no dark witch - and her procurement of dragon scales had only made her more popular in the world of potions and brews.

Bren grinned and tucked the bottle into his inside pocket. “They’ll appreciate this. Thank you, Charissa.”

Bren waited until Charissa had returned to the counter before taking Elora’s hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? I hate that you’re by yourself in the apartment. When does Helen return from the old country?”

“Not until the spring,” Elora said.

“Does she know about Cece’s aunt?

“No,” Elora said. “But it’s because she and her sister are in the mountains for their rituals and will be for at least another month. There isn’t any cell service.”

“That seems dangerous,” Bren said. “Helen is in her seventies, for God’s sake.”

Elora smiled. “What Helen wants, Helen gets. You know that almost as well as I do. My grandmother and her sister are two of the most powerful witches I know. I’m worried, but I know they can take care of themselves.”

“You know if you need me, you can call anytime. I know it’s not as convenient now that I live with Kaida and her clan instead of right across the hall, but I have a siren on my car, and I know how to use it,” Bren said.

Elora laughed and gave him a brief, hard hug. “I love you, buddy.”

“Love you too. I’ll text you about next week.”

Bren left the store with a wave to Charissa, and Elora joined her behind the counter. Charissa studied her for a moment before smoothing a strand of Elora’s hair down. “Go home, kiddo.”

Elora shook her head. “I still have a half hour left of my shift, and I wanted to finish the inventory for -”

“I’m your boss, and I’m telling you to go home,” Charissa said. “But before you do, I have something for you.” She reached under the counter and brought out a leather book. ‘Spells for Witches’ was embroidered in dull gold thread across the cover, and the leather was creased and worn and - Elora peered closer at it - yup, an animal had definitely chewed on the corner of it.

“Where did you get this?” Elora asked as Charissa flipped open the book to reveal pages as thin and fragile as butterfly wings.

“Never you mind where I got it,” Charissa said before carefully turning the pages. “Here, see this one?”

Elora studied the spell Charissa pointed to. Someone had scrawled the letters across the page with a shaky hand, and the ink was splotched, smudged, and nearly worn away in some parts.

“Holy shit, how old is this book?” Elora asked. “That looks like it was written with a quill for a pen.”

“It’s ancient, so it probably was,” Charissa said. “This spell will free Lilianna.”

“Seriously?” Elora leaned closer, reading the spell in her head.

She turned the page, reading the spell on the next page. It was a spell designed to trick a person into falling in love, and she stared at Charissa as anxiety thrummed in her veins. “Is this a dark magic book?”

“The WWC prohibits some of the spells,” Charissa hedged, “but the one you’re performing isn’t. Not technically, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Elora asked.

“The less you know, the better,” Charissa said cryptically. “Look, I believe this spell is your only chance to free Lilianna. The longer she’s trapped as a crow, the harder it becomes to break the spell. You know that.”

Elora stared at the ancient spell book. She knew, which is why she’d spent so much time researching, studying, and casting different spells to free Lilianna.

“The time to free her is almost over. You can feel that, can you not?” Charissa said as her aura shifted and shimmered around her.

“Yes,” Elora said.

“If you want to save her, then you need to do this spell. The sooner, the better,” Charissa said.

“Maybe you should do it,” Elora said as she read over the spell again. “My magic isn’t strong enough.”

“It is,” Charissa said confidently. “Besides, the spell will work best for you because you’re closest to Lilianna. She loves you, Elora, and her feelings for you will affect the potency and strength of the spell.”

Charissa was right, but it didn’t stop the shiver of disquiet down Elora’s back when she ran her finger over the words written, and her magic sparked to life. It pulsed and throbbed, feeding off just the words on the page alone.

“It’s a dangerous spell.”

“It is,” Charissa said quietly.

Elora pulled her hand back and closed the book before turning to stare at Lilianna. The crow stared back unblinkingly, and Elora swallowed hard. “I have to try. She deserves to be free.”