Page 23 of Love’s a Witch (The Scottish Charms #1)

“I will stop you right there, young lady.” Broca snapped her fingers, bringing my attention to her.

“You may be dealing with the same magickal difficulties your mother faced, but you are not the same. Not even close. She may be my daughter, but you three have more of me in you than she ever did. And thank the goddess for that. Let me be very clear, Sloane, that even if your mother had had perfectly working magick, she still would have been a dramatic, difficult, and unbalanced soul. It’s her own karma to sort out.

She made, and continues to make, her own choices, despite the guidance I have attempted to offer her.

Remember, magick is a tool. And tools can and will be used in hundreds of different ways by different people. ”

“But what if I can’t make my tool work? Isn’t that what set her off?”

“Surely you must be kidding me?” Broca threw me an incredulous look.

“She loved having different magick every day. Said it kept things interesting. It took all of my power to clean up her messes, day after day, and to try to shelter you three from harm. When she took you and ran, it was the hardest day of my life. I could only be grateful that you were strong enough at that point to care for yourself. Otherwise, I would have gone through hell and high water to get you back.”

She did do that. She taught me a lot about loyalty and fighting for family. For what’s right.

“I remember you trying.” Night after night, Broca would call and arguments would erupt over the phone until my mother hung up on her. I never fully understood what they were arguing about, but I’m glad I have a better picture of that time now.

“I had no legal recourse to take you away from her. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you.”

“But you were.” Nova leaned forward, looking past me to Broca. “You never let us lose contact. We always knew we had you.”

“It’s true, Broca.” Lyra rolled out dough on the counter. “You’ve been our one constant in a sea of changes.”

“Och, that does my heart good.” Broca patted her chest. Her eyes were shiny, and I realized that I might be close to weeping too.

“The fact that you were instantly worried you’d turn out like your mother shows just how different you are, Sloane.

I’m not worried about you, or this unruly magick.

We’ll get it sorted, or we won’t, but you’re going to be just fine. ”

“Unless you burn down the castle. Knox might be pissed about that.” Nova smirked at me when I smacked her arm.

“I’m not burning down the castle because I am not going back there.”

“Girl, if you don’t sample those goods, I might have to.” My mouth dropped open at Broca’s warning, and all of us laughed.

“Honestly, I would not want to compete against you, Broca.” Pushing Blue off my lap, I went to get my bag. “By the way. I forgot that Knox’s cat gave me a book.”

“His cat?” Nova raised an eyebrow at me.

“Oswald. And he has a miniature Highland coo in a wheelchair named Haggis.”

Nova’s mouth dropped open. “You have to go back there, Sloane. I need to meet these familiars.”

“We have to do this spell, Sloane. I want to hear what Blue has to say,” Lyra implored me.

“I suspect his thoughts will be highly focused on cheese,” I said, grinning down at Blue as I held the book out to Broca.

“Well, now, this is interesting.” Broca took the book from me and turned it over in her hands, admiring the cover. But when she went to open it, the cover refused to budge. “Ah, even more intriguing.”

“It won’t open?” I asked, surprised. Why would Oswald give me a book that wouldn’t open?

“Let me see.” Nova stood and took the book from Broca. No matter how much she tried to pry it open, the cover stayed shut. “Huh, that’s weird. I don’t see a lock. It’s not like one of those secret books that you need to slide the binding down and reveal a compartment, is it?”

“A what?” I asked as Blue clambered back into my lap.

“Like a puzzle book. Normally made of wood, but you have to, like, slide one part of the binding down, and then it unlocks a lever that opens a compartment.” Nova tugged at the binding, but nothing moved.

“I don’t think we’re the ones meant to open it,” Broca said.

At that, Nova paused and nudged the book toward me without another word and plopped back on the couch.

“Wait, let me just get this in the oven before you open it.” Lyra slid the pie in, set a timer, and took her apron off before bounding across the room. “Okay, open. I hope it is a love poem.”

“Oh, for fuc…” I trailed off at Broca’s warning look. “Seriously, I barely know Knox. He most certainly is not writing love poems for me.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants.” Lyra nodded sagely at me. This from a woman who had men declare their eternal love to her weekly.

“I can promise you it is not that. It’s more likely a list of all the reasons I need to leave Briarhaven and never come back. Certainly nothing to do with love.” I took the book and held it in front of me, over Blue. “Right, let’s see what the issue is.”

The book opened for me… immediately. Surprise filled me, and a small shiver worked itself down my neck. That was odd, but magick was weird in general, so should I be that shocked?

Nova, nosy sister that she was, leaned over to try to read the page.

“Huh, blank pages.”

“No, it’s not!” I said, rolling my eyes up to Nova. It was plain as day there was writing on the pages.

“Let me see.” I turned the book to Lyra, but she bit her lower lip and shook her head.

“Sorry, Sloane, I don’t see anything either.”

“What part of me telling you that this book is meant for Sloane aren’t you understanding?” Broca asked, as though we were all a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

“What does it say?” Nova nodded at me to look, and I brought it forward, that shiver of unease turning to excitement.

But the words just swam on the page in front of me, written in ancient text unknown to me. Not like I was some history scholar, but I’d at least be able to identify if the words were Celtic or not.

“I can’t read it,” I admitted. “It’s not a language I know.”

“Is it code? Could you copy it down and we all try to figure it out?” Lyra asked, perching on the arm of the couch.

“We’ll need a revealing spell. And likely the coven to help.

” Broca shook her head when I went to protest. “This is very old magick, Sloane. I could feel it on the book. You can complain all you want, but your magick won’t reveal what’s in this book without help.

We need our coven to ground us, to funnel our magick, and to unlock what’s in this book. ”

Shite. When she said it like that…

“Can we at least do the spell with Blue first?” I whined somewhat pathetically.

I knew I was only delaying bringing the coven about, but I wasn’t sure I could handle Mandy Meadows’s plastic smile at the moment.

My emotions were scrambling to land—a little like Blue, actually—and my heart was still thumping from Knox’s kisses.

“Are you going to admit there’s something here?”

Goddess, what was I supposed to do with that? Nope, not thinking about that right now. Talking to my familiar, though? Sign me up.

“That I can help you with. We can do it right now.” Broca’s eyes warmed.

“Seriously?” My eyes widened.

“Can just any pet become a familiar?” Nova asked. It was a question I hadn’t really considered before.

“No. Familiars are tied to the mystical world. They guide, protect, or offer you their magick throughout your life. Each holds a unique set of powers that works symbiotically with yours.”

“He brings the cheese, and you bring the whine .” Lyra changed her tone to a whining tone, and Nova snickered.

“I don’t whine.” I protested— not whined, thankyouverymuch.

“Ladies. The spell?”

“Okay, okay, I’m in. Let’s do this. What do we need?” I made a zipping motion over my lips at my sisters to get them to shut up.

“A drop of blood from you both, some of my crystals, and we’ll cast a simple protection circle. Or square, actually.” Broca looked at us.

“Doesn’t it have to be a circle?” Lyra asked, crossing the room to get Broca’s dish of crystals that had been charging in the moonlight the night before.

“Not necessarily. The intent is to protect. Pentagram. Triangle. Octagon. Nae bother, really. It’s about creating a safe and protective space.

” Broca straightened and took the bowl of crystals onto her lap, digging through them and handing several to Lyra.

“There, child. Black tourmaline, hematite, and amethyst. Protection and grounding.”

After Lyra laid out the stones around us, Broca looked at Blue.

“Blue, we’ll need a drop of blood from your paw.”

Blue surprised me by rolling over and rising into the air, hovering over Broca, seeming to understand that he couldn’t land in her lap lest he hurt her hip. Broca held up a small ritual knife.

“Just a prick.”

I watched, my heart in my throat as Blue held out a paw. With a gentle motion, Broca nicked his paw and collected a couple of drops of blood in a small dish. I winced, but Blue seemed remarkably unperturbed.

“Now you.” I leaned forward and gave Broca my finger, and she added a few drops of my blood to the dish.

“There. Now, repeat after me.” Broca leveled me a look, and I nodded.

“By claw and paw, by tail and wing, I ask the moon to let you sing. Familiar dear, your voice shall rise, with every word, no more shall you hide.”

I repeated the words exactly, my eyes darting around the room in case I started any fires, but nothing came. When I finished, I just looked at Broca, waiting for instruction.

I do believe it’s time for my cheese. A soft voice filled my head, warm and brash, a light growl around the edges as though the words were gently heated with fire.

My eyes widened in shock and I reached for Blue.

“Was that you, buddy? Did you just ask for cheese?”

I mean, I did just get my paw sliced open. Don’t you think that deserves a reward?

“Oh my goddess. It works. I can hear him.” I laughed out loud, hugging him close. “He wants cheese because we cut his paw open.”

“I’ve closed the circle. Have all the cheese you want, Blue.” Broca smiled as I carried Blue across the room to the kitchen, tears pricking my eyes.

I might only be a simple witch, but if that meant we had a chance at breaking the curse and I got to stay here with my sweet little emberwolf, maybe, just maybe, I had a fighting chance at being happy for once.