Page 71 of Hexed, Vexed, & Undersexed

Then, I frown.

“You mean we need to bring peace, love, and joy to real witches?” I groan.

“Yes,” my deceased ancestor confirms.

I groan some more.

“Why is everyone trying to turn me into a hippie witch?!” I exclaim dramatically, making Bellamy chuckle.

“Well, youareCrystal Moon,” he taunts, and I make a face at him.

“Be careful,” Mother Shipton warns. “Your face might stick that way.”

Quickly, I smooth my features before she can hex them in place.

The woman has a wicked bone a mile long. . . now I know where Gram-Gram gets it.

“So, what do we do when we get the grimoire?” I inquire, unsure of the plan.

“Destroy it,” Mother Shipton commands.

“But-but-but—” Bellamy splutters, but the crone simply raises a hand to silence him.

“No ‘buts’ about it. All it has done is bring division to my family. When you and Evanora reunite the family, a new grimoire can be made.”

Bellamy grumbles under his breath and Mother Shipton looks sky-ward as if to say ‘save me from mouthy descendents.’

“Now, kneel, while I induct you both into witchhood,” she commands.

I look at Bellamy in confusion and he just shrugs and gets to his knees. I follow suit and she takes my hand for Bellamy to hold.

“What was once broken—reunite. Where magic was lost—make it right. Remove the hex and make them whole. Together forever—as one soul.”

Bellamy’s hand and mine glow at her words, and I stifle my cry of alarm.

When Mother Shipton steps back, and I quickly yank away from a man I need to suddenly learn to dislike less. . . I mean, I like his dick well enough, if that counts.

“What did you do?” I ask the ancient witch in what I hope is a polite tone.

Honestly, I’m too terrified of what she’s done to be civil.

“I removed the Putnam hex on your family. So, you won’t need my grimoire and can destroy it.”

“Oh!” I exclaim. “Thank you!”

And here I was thinking it was worse than it was. . .

Bellamy, though, is glaring at me.

“What’s your problem?” I snap.

“You like my dickwell enough?” he growls in offense.

I stare at him like he’s crazy. I never said that. . .

I thought it.

Oh, fuck.