Page 5 of Love’s a Witch (The Scottish Charms #1)

“I know a great house cleaner.” This from a woman who looked eager to please, in a neon-pink jumpsuit, chaotic hair, and huge tote bag at her shoulder that looked like it could carry enough weapons to take down a small army.

“I’m Felicity Sheridan, vice president of the Charms. Never harm, always charm! ” I swear she almost saluted.

I glanced over my shoulder at Nova, who mouthed to me, Never harm, always charm . I bared my teeth at her like a cat hissing, and turned back to the third woman, who gave me a knowing look.

“Tam Sullivan. Treasurer and all-around badass, if I do say so myself.” Tam pumped my hand so vigorously my bones rattled. A woman in her early fifties, she wore an Adidas tracksuit and had close-cropped hair and lively, intelligent eyes. “Don’t let these two indoctrinate you.”

“Oh, for goddess’s sake, Tam. You’ve just met them,” Mandy hissed, turning to glare at Tam.

“Someone’s got to dull the brunt of you two.”

“Really? Are we that difficult? I like to think we’re everyone’s favorite witches. Like fairy floss and lollipops.” Felicity put her hands on her hips, looking like an enraged gnome, with her messy bun of hair wobbling on top of her head.

“Who says fairy floss is everyone’s favorite?” Tam tucked her hands in her pockets.

Felicity gasped like Tam had just told her she drowned kittens before breakfast every morning.

“Is fairy floss…” Lyra began. There hadn’t been any happy family trips to the circus when we were children. Something I’d remedied once we were in the States, and I was the one in charge.

“Cotton candy,” I supplied, not turning from the spectacle of these three women.

“Yuck,” Nova said.

“I thought you liked cotton candy?” Lyra asked.

“I mean it’s fine. It’s not in my top five fair treats. Or maybe even ten. It’s just sticky and annoying, really.”

“I think it’s fun,” Lyra said, and Felicity zeroed in on her.

“Yes, see? It is fun. And that’s what the Charms are. Fun! Speaking of, I’m so excited because we’re here to—”

“Maybe they could invite us to stay for a cup of coffee?” Mandy’s unwavering grin was beginning to remind me of a flight attendant asking an unruly passenger to pull themselves together before she got out the restraints.

“Is it mandatory?” I asked, leveling a look at Mandy. I wasn’t my best before coffee, even less so when I felt like I wasn’t in charge in my own space.

“Sloane. That’s not the kind of hospitality we raised you with.” Broca arched an eyebrow at me and waved the women toward the dining room, crystal bracelets clinking at her wrist. “How do you feel about cheese and Ritz for breakfast?”

Mandy gave us a look like we’d just offered her cocaine, while Felicity looked positively cheered at the possibility of cheese. Tam shook her head and made a small tsking noise with her lips.

“Och, ladies. Best to start your day with a healthy breakfast and a good workout. Get the blood flowing.”

Nova nodded in agreement. She was one of those people who woke up refreshed and went for a morning run before her coffee. It was my least favorite thing about her.

“I keep telling them that.” Nova and Tam beamed at each other, kindred souls apparently, while Lyra gave a delicate shudder.

“They never let me prepare a proper breakfast for them.” Lyra pulled mugs from the cupboard, rinsing the dust, and shortly, the women all had cups of coffee and were settled at the table.

My brain had finally decided to wake up a bit and check into the conversation, which was currently, from my estimation, about the price of a pack of biscuits.

“Such a shame.” Felicity shook her head, pressing her lips together, a pinched look coming over her face. “The kids are desperate for more, but I’m not made of money, am I?”

“Too much sugar in biscuits,” Tam declared, sipping her black coffee. “Hidden sugars in everything these days.”

We sat around the dining table tucked in an alcove off the main room of the house, while Broca reclined on the armchair nearby.

In the morning light, I could easily see the dust that had accumulated, and I couldn’t fully blame Mandy for her disapproving looks.

As it was, she barely relaxed into her chair, sitting on the edge like it was going to explode at any moment, never resting her arms on the dusty table.

Instead, she clutched her coffee in front of her, her fixed smile beginning to make me wonder if this was her resting Barbie face, likely contemplating how her life choices had landed her here, in this dirty house.

“Was there something you needed to talk about?” I asked, forcing my thoughts away from all the things I needed to do to make this space homey again, starting first with a good solid clean, and realized that I’d, once again, shoved my foot in it.

The conversation halted, and everyone gave me those pained looks that people get when you don’t follow the correct social niceties.

Fine by me. Niceties came in the afternoon, when it was a proper time to visit, not at first blush of morning.

“Yes, of course there is.” Mandy gave me a disapproving look and clutched her coffee cup hard.

I began to worry it would shatter and stain her pink pantsuit.

Did she sleep in that outfit? I pictured her stepping into a closet and hanging herself up by the loop in the back of her suitcoat, powering down for the night.

I chuckled. The other women looked at me with concern.

At least I found myself humorous. “Now that you’re all here, we’ll have our first Charms meeting next week once you’ve settled, but in the meantime, we have a more pressing issue to address. ”

“Mm-hmm, we do.” Felicity nodded. “We really do.”

“And that is?” Just what I needed, more people complaining about the snow.

“Your magick, of course.” Mandy’s hands were growing white where they gripped the cup. “Your birthday is tomorrow, and we’ll need to discuss how we deal with it.”

“Och, that’s a grand way to put it, isn’t it? If she wasn’t already nervous, you’re certainly going to make her so.” Tam rolled her eyes, slouching backward in her chair, fingers tapping on her leg.

“Why would I be nervous?” I mean, of course I’d given thought to my twenty-fifth birthday and the potential magick I’d receive.

Every witch did. Had I made spreadsheets and run probability tests?

Maybe. But that was neither here nor there.

As Broca gleefully reminded me, the magick I ended up with was one thing that I could not manifest myself.

Much to my deep annoyance.

Maybe I needed to change my middle name to Sloane Annoyance MacGregor, because as of late, I’d been leaning far more into the tetchy side of my personality than ever before.

I hated not being in control. And the more I tried not to focus on my looming birthday, the bigger the expectations grew in my head.

“As we all know,” Mandy began, placing her coffee cup on the table—thank goddess—before she actually broke it, “the MacGregor bloodline carries a very unfortunate curse. One that has ramifications for all involved, including those who could be exposed to collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage,” Felicity repeated, nodding vigorously, eyes widened.

“It’s imperative we handle this situation before it gets out of hand,” Mandy continued, tension beginning to band my jaw as I grit my teeth.

She gave me a tight smile. “Of course, we wish you the happiest of birthdays and all that, but we’ll need to keep you closely monitored at all times tomorrow. ”

“Oh, you’re getting a babysitter,” Nova singsonged, flicking the back of my hand with her finger.

“I most certainly am not,” I said, glaring at her.

“More like a security detail,” Lyra said, grinning at me. “How very chic.”

“More like assets,” Mandy interjected. The smile stayed cemented in place, but I was beginning to suspect it was taking magick of major proportions to do so.

“Having a coven to assist you during your change is a huge asset to any burgeoning witch. That way we can quickly disperse any… abnormalities.”

“Yes, abnormalities. Wouldn’t want that.” Felicity shook her head, hair spilling from her messy bun, and she shoved it back into its scrunchie in a practiced move.

My eyes rounded, horror filling me.

“Bloody hell, Mandy. Have some tact.” Tam leaned forward, snapping her fingers to bring my attention to her.

“What Madame President is trying to say is that because we don’t know how your magick is going to manifest, the very least we can do is be here to help—just in case things go a little haywire—and we can corral any… issues… that may arise.”

“And we’re throwing you a cèilidh!” Felicity bounced in her seat, clapping her hands.

“Wait… what?” I gasped. I hated parties where I was the center of attention, let alone parties that required dancing and paying attention to instructions.

“We’ve invited the whole town. The Charms are all very excited,” Felicity continued. “I’ll make banoffee pudding, as it’s the kids’ favorite.”

“Wouldn’t you make Sloane’s favorite? It’s her birthday.” Tam raised an eyebrow, and Felicity’s face fell.

“Oh, sure. Right. Well, Sloane? What’s your favorite birthday treat, then?”

I just gaped at the women, my brain bouncing between potential magickal abnormalities and types of birthday cake.

“How can the whole town be invited to something when you didn’t even know we’d be arriving?” I asked, my mouth finally spitting out a thought.

“It’s not a large town,” Tam said as she finished her coffee. “You’ll learn quickly that people will know when you run out of toilet paper.”

“ Delightful imagery, as always, Tam,” Mandy said, annoyed.

“I’m not wrong—”

“Nevertheless, we can move on. Sloane, please. There’s a small matter of the MacGregor curse. The truth is that your magick will likely misfire when it manifests tomorrow. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, and the Charms are here to assist you during this difficult transition.”

“Are you changing into a werewolf or something?” Nova slanted a look at me, barely constrained glee behind her eyes. “Transitioning and all that.”

“I do love dogs,” I admitted, and she snorted.

“Old Mr. Sturrock accidentally did. Remember that one Samhain?” Felicity shivered, crossing her arms over the large tote she still held in her lap. Maybe it was her emotional support tote, as I’d yet to see her stop hugging it.

“Ladies, if I may?” Broca interjected from the armchair, though it wasn’t really a question.

Conversation ceased, and we all turned to look at Broca, who was calmly filing a painted green nail into a point just short of a talon.

“Sloane will be delighted to have your assistance tomorrow as she celebrates stepping into her magick. The cèilidh sounds like great fun. It will be the perfect way for the girls to meet everyone in town while also reassuring people that there is nothing to worry about now that we are home.”

“But—”

“And she just loves banoffee pudding, don’t you, Sloane?” Broca gave me such a sharp look that I shrank back into my seat.

Mandy nodded curtly.

“It’s settled, then. We’ll see you tomorrow, ladies, and remember—”

“Never harm, always charm,” Nova sang too sweetly, and Felicity clapped, jumping out of her seat in excitement.

“Oh, goodie, I can’t wait. The kids are going to be so excited. Charm on, witches!” Felicity fluttered her fingers at us, and I internally groaned.

Tam patted my shoulder as she passed, before lecturing Felicity about the sugar levels in the pudding. At the door, Mandy stopped and turned back to us.

“Well, now we have that sorted, I’m sure tomorrow will go swimmingly.

” Glaring at the snow that swirled through the front door, Mandy left.

I noticed not a single flake dared to land on her pantsuit, and I had to hand it to her—the witch had power.

Even if it came in the form of magickal Scotchgard.

“Well, if you weren’t nervous before…” Lyra grimaced in my direction.

“Now I’m terrified.” And I was at that. And nowhere in my calculations had I even considered the potential of me turning into a werewolf, and while, logically, I understood that wasn’t the way our witchy magick worked, it now felt like anything was possible.

“Is that a hair on your chin?” Nova leaned forward and squinted at my face, and I gasped, jumping up from the chair.

“I hate you.” Stomping across the room, I made for the bathroom.

“Girls, leave her be. It’s tough not knowing what your magick will be.” Broca’s voice floated after me as I climbed the stairs.

I hated uncertainty—hated not knowing. It unsettled me in a way that excited other people. But, maybe, just maybe, the ability to see the future would be my magick. I held on to that hope as I slammed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

Surely it wouldn’t be all that bad, right?