Page 7

Lydia

“Just go in already,” I muttered to myself, pacing the sidewalk outside my shop like a lost puppy. It’s just up the road. You pop in, buy something, and then come back. It’ll take fifteen minutes, max. Just go.

But I couldn’t force my legs to move. My entire body felt heavy, and the reason was deceptively simple.

Angelo hadn’t taken me to bed last night. Hell, he hadn’t taken me anywhere last night. No call, no texts, nothing to explain why he’d bailed. He’d made grand promises, but in the end, he hadn’t come in until after midnight, dragging himself onto the couch with a groan. He’d smelled so much like whiskey that I assumed he’d been elbow-deep at the bar by the time last call came around. I wasn’t sure what had sent him into the arms of Jack Daniels, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I was somehow involved.

Had he finally taken off his rose-colored glasses and gotten a good look at me? I’d always been afraid he’d wise up and realize that when it came to looks, he was way out of my league. There was nothing I had to offer that he couldn’t get elsewhere from someone more attractive. No, I wasn’t a hideous monster or anything, but I was still fairly ordinary—girl-next-door pretty at best, with all the physical earmarks of being in my forties. I wasn’t an ageless faerie like Taliyah Morgan. I wasn’t full-bodied and confident like Wanda or any of the other witches I’d met. I wasn’t ridiculously attractive like the succubae he’d grown up around. Maybe he was mulling over how to let me down easily over a glass of aged whiskey. Or thirteen.

You can pout about the rejection or do something about it, I chided myself, actually missing Indigo’s voice in my head. She would have told me to end the pity-party like yesterday. There’s a potion shop right up the street with a few handy solutions. Just move your ass. It’s not even that far.

My feet remained stubbornly unconvinced. I kept flicking Angelo’s lighter restlessly as I paced tiny, depressing circles around the front door of my shop, Occult Oddities. A few people glanced my way, watching me curiously, but almost no one stopped to stare. I was just an odd duck pacing like a lunatic in front of a black arts shop. It would probably be weirder for tourists if I wasn’t a bit strange.

The fire coming from the lighter was probably eye-catching in the gloom, though. An unseasonable fog was rolling in, chilling my face and hands. It was part of the reason I’d grabbed Angelo’s lighter. He always kept it nearby these days. He smoked a hunger-inhibiting herb most mornings and evenings, drawing in at least a few women who had set their sights on my hunky roomie. It had been great for business, if not for my fragile ego.

He’d left the lighter behind today. Did that mean he wasn’t hungry? That he was done waiting for me and had gotten food elsewhere? I couldn’t blame him. He shouldn’t go hungry because I was being indecisive. I just wished he’d told me as much, instead of avoiding me. He’d left before I could even ask why he’d flaked.

As if in response to my thoughts, the lighter suddenly flamed up in my hand, as if it had just exploded for no good reason. I gave a little yip, then glanced down at it, realizing the heat from the flame hadn’t harmed me at all. In fact, it hadn’t even hurt.

“Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?”

I yelped when I turned around and found a witch standing only a few feet away, hand on one hip, watching me pace like a caged animal. In my distracted state, it took me a second to distinguish this brunette from the rest of the pack. Well, “coven” was more accurate. The ink-dark hair and intense gray of her eyes were dead giveaways. She could only be a witch, and one I recognized better than most.

I pressed a hand to my chest. “Wanda! You scared me!”

Wanda’s full lips curved into a smirk, clearly pleased with my reaction. Most witches seemed to thrill in being at least a little terrifying. You could always trust a witch to find mischief wherever she went.

“You should pay better attention. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you, which means you’re dangerously distracted. You only just now realized that lighter has been flaming up in your hand the entire time you’ve been pacing out here?”

I stopped in my tracks, staring down at the lighter once more. I briefly tried to get it to light, but it only made a pathetic sputtering noise, producing only a few sparks before going out. Definitely no flame. Hmm.

Wanda sighed, looking put upon as she took in my confused expression. Then she reached for me, seizing me unceremoniously by the wrist and dragging me up the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?” I asked in a small voice.

“Poppy’s.”

“Why?”

“You two need to talk. She’s the only other gypsy who’ll be able to relate to a muddled power signature.”

“A muddled power signature?”

“That lighter didn’t make itself explode.”

“Then you’re saying I made it do that?”

She looked at me like I was dumb. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Anyway, Poppy will have an answer for you. Maybe you’ll learn something from each other.”

I swallowed thickly. It looked like I’d be paying my cousin’s shop a visit after all.

And all it took was a magical mishap and a witch to kick your ass the whole way there.

***

I’d seen Poppy’s Potions from the outside more than once, usually on my way to and from Sweeter Haunts, the most visited tourist locale in town. It wasn’t every day you waltzed through a tiny hamlet and found a year-round Halloween candy store. It had been fueling my jelly bean addiction for months now. I was pretty sure I had the proprietor of the establishment to blame for the last few pounds I’d packed on.

Poppy’s shop looked less outrageous in comparison, though just as adorable in its own right. She’d chosen an old-school apothecary aesthetic: a large pair of frosted block windows and a heavy oak door wedged in between. Wanda didn’t bother to knock or announce her presence as she dragged me past it, still clutching my wrist like I was a child.

In the face of all the magic in the room, I almost felt like a child. The complexity of some of the enchantments in their tiny glass bottles was staggering. I’d barely begun to learn how to brew, relying heavily on Indigo and Checkers to make anything halfway decent.

If my attempt was a child’s scribbles, this place was the Mona Lisa. Poppy clearly had a talent.

The aroma struck me a second after the magic. It was almost overpowering, after the smell of old pages and roasted coffee beans I was used to. I remembered enough from my uncles to recognize bergamot, allspice, pepperwort, and vetiver. The rest blended into a somewhat muggy background noise that immediately fogged my head. Unlike Wanda’s Witchery, there seemed to be nothing cursed inside.

I reached idly for a crystal, smiling to myself as a pulse of happiness radiated against my palm. It was easier to sense magic now that Indigo had kickstarted mine, but I felt like I still had a lot to learn. Wanda had been right about at least that much. I needed a teacher who understood a blend of magic and could help me make peace with what I had. According to the terse explanation I’d gotten on the way, white witches were slim pickings here. If this was the general tenor of Poppy’s magic, I wouldn’t mind learning from her. It beat relying on Indigo’s dubious morals.

Was it sad that I was half hoping to hear Indie’s indignant squawk in reply to the thought? But the potion we’d made had done its job. She was still fast asleep. I didn’t have anyone else to ruminate with. If she’d been conscious, she’d probably have convinced me to curse Angelo’s junk or something, so maybe it was a mixed blessing. I wasn’t sure I wanted the intentional infliction of warts on my conscience. I’d regret it... eventually.

A door near the back opened, and a blonde woman bobbed into sight, summoned by the tinkling of the bell above the door. Most of her body was obscured by a swaying stack of boxes. Wanda sighed and steadied it before the top two could topple onto the front counter. Then Wanda lifted the very top box to reveal a red-faced, pretty woman. I could see a little of the family resemblance in Poppy’s nose and mouth, but otherwise, we weren’t obviously related. With the witchy dye job I sported, we looked even less alike. I found myself a little envious of Poppy’s softly waving hair. I missed being a blonde.

Poppy blinked in surprise, more color flushing into her face when she realized she’d been about to fumble the box.

“Thanks,” she said in a small voice.

Wanda’s free hand slammed down onto one hip as she fixed Poppy with one of the most chiding looks I’d seen between adults.

“I’ve told you not to do it in one trip. You’re going to end up in an accident, and then I’ll have to deal with the aftermath. If you spill the ones with potions in them, it might be even worse. I might find you lounging across the cash wrap like a sloth.”

Poppy rolled her eyes. “I take the potion orders one by one for that reason. These are recently charged crystals and a few blessed candles. The worst that could happen is I drop the box on my foot, break it, and need a cast.”

“Which will still fall to me, Poppy,” Wanda said with a long-suffering sigh. “Someone will have to drive you to the ER. You’re so lucky to have a coven watching over you; you’d be lost without us.” She paused. “And I don’t want you breaking anything—least of all one of your bones.”

“You are worse than a helicopter parent,” she said, biting her cheek, clearly holding back a smile that made her eyes sparkle. They were a different shade of blue than mine. It was odd to look at someone who shared some of my features but was otherwise so unlike me. I kept expecting her to burst into a ball of sunshine or dandelion fluff. It was a nice change after all the negativity Indigo had dragged into my life.

“Excuse the spell out of me for caring so much about you,” Wanda responded with a frown.

“Well, thanks for that, Wanda,” Poppy said as she then turned to face me. “Hi, Lydia.”

I greeted her in kind as Wanda waved away our words as if they were the buzzing of insect wings. “You need someone to stop you from doing stupid things, Poppy. Don’t carry that much again, or I’m going to hex you.”

The smile won, spreading across Poppy’s face like the break of dawn. She and Wanda were clearly very close, even if Wanda was as prickly as a cactus.

“Other than concern for my safety, what brings you in today? You’re not out of Love’s Goddess Oil again, are you? I know that underwear line has been selling a lot lately.”

Wanda set her burden aside and seized me again, dragging me forward. A second later, I was nearly nose-to-nose with a breathless Poppy. The color had begun to drain from her cheeks, and her smile was a little brittle when she turned it on me. “I’m not here for myself, actually.”

“Oh?” Poppy asked as she turned her attention to me.

But before I could say anything, Wanda was already saying it for me. “Lydia is having an unusual magical reaction that appears to be fire related.”

And that was basically the gist of it. Granted, Wanda had only witnessed this strange ability in the last ten minutes or so, but my relationship with fire had been pretty interesting lately—something I probably did need to get to the bottom of.

“Oh?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I guess that’s what you could call it.”

Wanda nodded. “I’d think if anyone can help her figure out what’s going on, it’s you. You’re the only gypsy I know with experience in dark and light magic.”

Poppy cast me a nervous glance. Her swallow was audible, but she didn’t immediately speak.

“Please,” I whispered. “I... I was going to come sometime today. I need help. If you want to help me, that is.”

Poppy’s eyes softened, making lines fan out around them, a roadmap of much happier expressions. I had a good feeling about her, and my gut rarely led me wrong.

“Alright. Step into the back. I’ll see what I can do.”