Page 6 of Love’s a Witch (The Scottish Charms #1)

CHAPTER FOUR Sloane

That poor tree,” Nova said, nodding to the massive yew tree in the center of the town square, its leaves now leaden with snow.

After breakfast, Broca had promptly ordered us into town for supplies, claiming she needed a nap to have the energy to deal with all of us.

I suspected it was more to ease the pain from her recent hip surgery but agreed to get out of her hair for a while.

Largely because I knew she was going to hate me later when I started her on the daily walks detailed in the physical therapist’s instructions Broca must have hidden in a kitchen drawer.

I was glad to do it, too, because never once had Broca asked for help.

She’d been a constant in our lives, even when our mother had dragged us away, and we’d always stayed in consistent communication.

Cobblestone streets, black Victorian-style streetlamps, and strands of string lights surrounded the interior of the square that showcased the ancient yew tree.

It felt like stepping back in time, which I supposed helped with the magickal vibe the tourism board was going for, and haunting music drifted in the air.

“I can’t believe it. Did they pipe spooky music in?” Lyra pointed to small speakers built into the base of the light pole. “The streetlights have speakers attached.”

“Setting the mood. Okay, okay, I dig it. They’re committed,” Nova said.

Snow swirled under the streetlamps, a frolicky little dance of flakes, and a woman glared out from a shop window.

“?‘The Dragon’s Hoard.’?” I read the black sign over the window, the letters etched in gold with tiny flame scrolls.

The window showcased all things shiny and sparkly, a gift shop catering to what I assumed most dragons would love—all that glitters—and I smiled at a black crystal dragon figurine with glittering ruby eyes.

“I’m not going to lie, I’d buy that dragon in a heartbeat. ”

“Do you want it for your birthday?” Lyra bounced on her feet. I rarely let them buy me anything, largely because we had to pack up and move so often. What was the point of acquiring trinkets if I had no place to put said trinkets?

“Mmm.” I wavered. The dragon was pretty cool.

“You know she’ll say no. She always does.” Nova tucked her scarf into her leather jacket.

I wasn’t that boring and predictable, was I? The dragon gleamed in the light, and I sighed, coveting it. If it weren’t as large as it was, I probably would have let them buy it for me immediately.

“How about this? If we break this curse, that dragon will be my reward. You can gift it to me then.”

“That’s fair. I’ll allow it.” Nova patted my back like an approving schoolteacher, and I shrugged off her touch, moving to the next store.

“?‘The Veilcrest School of Spells.’ Huh. Imagine that. A spell-casting school, of all things. Sloane, you can enroll once you get your magick,” Nova said, her tone gleeful.

“?‘The science of spell-making. Harvesting ingredients. Full moon rituals,’?” Lyra read from a sign on the window. “This sounds really interesting.”

“I’m not going back to school.” I’d hated school, hated being on someone else’s schedule, hated learning about subjects that didn’t interest me. But if I loved something, like literature, then I leaned all in. My biggest regret about moving was that I couldn’t take my books with me.

“Look, an enchanted bakery. ‘Mystic Munchies.’?” Lyra snickered. “?‘Charming cakes and bewitching biscuits.’?”

“This is nothing like I remember it. Briarhaven really has turned itself into a theme park, hasn’t it?

But, like, kind of classy? It’s not like Disney.

” Nova said as we all tilted our heads to watch a chocolate fountain situated in the front window of the bakery.

The chocolate poured from the mouth of a croissant dragon and coated tiny bubbles that floated up from what had to be a cauldron of dry ice perched beneath it.

Except I was fairly certain dry ice didn’t send bubbles into the air. Let alone bubbles strong enough to be coated in liquid chocolate.

“They’re using magick out in the open,” Lyra breathed, fixated on the window. “How are they getting away with this?”

“Sometimes, hiding in plain sight is the easiest way to go unnoticed,” I murmured, transfixed on the chocolate-covered bubbles.

I wanted to reach in and pop one.

“This is really working for the town.” Nova looked up as a trio of tourists, speaking Spanish, pushed past us, their arms laden with shopping bags despite the snow.

“It really is a safe spot for magickals to live,” I said. “Broca told me they dreamt it up after Airbnb became so popular, particularly with people wanting holidays based on unique experiences. It was a way to bring tourism money to the town, while also allowing those with magick to live openly.”

“Bloody brilliant, really,” Lyra mused, still transfixed on the bakery window. I was certain her head was already running with about a million ideas for new recipes.

Continuing on, we stopped across the street from a pub called the Rune & Rose. A handsome man, a winter hat pulled low over his brow, shoveled the walkway in front of the pub. He glanced up and then gave us a narrow-eyed look. Our reputation had preceded us, I saw.

“Friendly neighbors, as I recall.” Nova waved at the man shoveling, who turned his back and stomped inside. “Or not.”

“Can you blame him? We’d just gone into a bonnie autumn, and now endless winter is upon us. I’d be pretty annoyed too.” A blast of icy wind splattered snow across my face. “Scratch that. I am annoyed.”

“It’s hardly our fault that our bloodline carries a curse. And a stupid one at that. We’re bad-luck charms for every town we live in, and we get crappy magick. It’s not fair,” Lyra complained.

The three of us were each born eleven months apart.

And as the oldest, I had more misgivings about returning to Briarhaven than my sisters, mainly because I recalled my childhood having been deeply chaotic until my mother had kicked our father to the curb and dragged us to the States, swearing to never step foot here again.

She’d held true to her word, stopping short of making us promise not to return, but those early days of misfiring magick and high tension had instilled in me a deep need for routine and calm in my life.

Which makes moving every year or so one of my biggest frustrations in life.

And I also couldn’t really blame Briarhaven for not rolling out the welcome mat upon our return.

Our family had been notoriously difficult, largely due to my parents and their deeply toxic relationship.

How we’d managed to stay in one spot as long as we had without blowing the entire place up was still a mystery to me.

“And I don’t see what the big deal is, anyway.” Lyra went on, squinting into an engraved gold makeup mirror—given to her by a besotted boyfriend—and swiping on a plum-colored lip tint despite the snow. “There’s always been magick in Briarhaven.”

“Yeah, but everyone had to hide it. Guess they got tired of living a lie,” Nova said.

“It wasn’t a lie. It’s just that historically the real world hasn’t taken too kindly to witches.”

“And werewolves. Your new brethren.” Lyra leaned closer and squinted her eyes at my chin. “Are you certain those aren’t whiskers I see sprouting?”

“I swear to the goddess I will break that fancy mirror of yours.” I dove for the mirror, and Lyra squealed, dropping it into her purse.

“Lorenzo would just replace it if you did.”

“Of course he would.” I couldn’t help myself and ran a hand over my chin. No hairs to be found. “Let’s just get this list done and get back home. I’m feeling… weird.”

“Weird how?” Instantly, both my sisters leaned forward, taking me seriously. I wasn’t one for dramatics, so if I mentioned something felt off, they usually listened.

I rolled my shoulders.

“I don’t know. Ever since we’ve been back in Scotland, it’s like…

like I have an itch between my shoulder blades I can’t scratch.

I feel on edge.” I twisted my purse strap in my hand.

“I’m so used to being untethered, yet we have roots here.

I don’t know how to match up what was with what is, if that makes any sense? ”

“It’s like trying to attach a fallen branch back to a tree.” Nova nodded and patted my shoulder.

“Yeah, kind of like that, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Like it or not, your magick is about to appear. And we all know just how much you like being in charge.”

“Here’s your informational packet on our new town, ladies.” Nova’s voice took on a lecturing tone, mimicking me. “Color-coded with safety warnings, cultural nuances, and a few key phrases in the local language.”

“Remember never to shop too much, as we’ll have to pack up and leave,” Lyra chimed in.

“And above all else, tell your sisters where you’re going,” Lyra and Nova said together, and I rolled my eyes.

“You make me sound like an overbearing mother.”

“Not overbearing, no.” Lyra reached over and squeezed my arm. “It’s nice to have someone who cares. But, you know, it wouldn’t hurt to have you loosen up a little bit.”

“I just don’t want to see anything bad happen to you both.”

“You can’t protect us from everything. Hell, it’s not like Mum ever bothered to.” Nova’s voice held a cool indifference that I knew well enough hid the hurts she harbored.

That we all harbored.

“Did you tell her we were coming back here?” Lyra asked, and I closed my eyes, replaying the conversation in my head.

“Small towns breed small-minded people. If you go back there, don’t bother contacting me again.”

I disagreed with my mother. Small-minded people could be found anywhere. But, somewhere along the line, Briarhaven, or our father, had hurt our mother so deeply that she was taking our return as a personal betrayal.