Page 2

Chapter

Two

brIDGETTE

T he sound of the keys jangling from my hand was accompanied by the sound of my black-heeled boots hitting the pavement as I approached the brightly painted red door of my shop. Holding my keys in one hand, I sipped from the latte I just bought from my favorite cafe down the street. I could feel the shop vibrating with energy as I slotted the key into the lock and smiled. Pushing the door open, the cheerful ring of the bell hanging over the door could immediately be heard throughout the brightly lit space.

Oohs, Ahhhs, and Orbs had been my grandmother’s shop before she passed it on to me a couple of years ago. It was my livelihood and home, and I loved every square inch of the place. As I slipped through the doorway, I ran my hand over the satin-smooth door and felt the wood tremble as I gave it a light caress of thanks.

As a witch, I had my grandmother to thank for my birthright since the gift had skipped my mother entirely. Luckily, Mom wasn’t bitter that she hadn’t been blessed by the Goddess as Grandmother and I had been. As much as I loved my gift of magic, I wasn’t sure that I would have been as accepting as she was. The three of us had lived together my entire life, and Mom had spent as much time with me as I had spent with Grandmother, watching as I learned and grew in knowledge and strength. As I became the witch she would never have a chance to be, she grew in pride. I had a lot to be thankful for when it came to the women in my life.

Now, as I walked through my store, passing the winking crystals and inhaling the fragrant herbs and candles, I had to hold back the sadness that my mother and grandmother—two of the people I loved most—were gone. Not from this earth, but on another cruise around the globe. Sigh.

I stopped in front of the display of skull figurines and turned the one with amethyst florets and emerald vines a little to the right. The skull grinned up at me as I wiped a small bit of glitter from one of the petals above its right eye.

“Have you been up to naughtiness last night, Mildred?” The skull threw me a sassy wink, making me roll my eyes. “Am I going to find the fairies out of place again? The least you could do is put things back after you play with them.” Her gleaming onyx skull rippled in her version of laughter. I booped her lightly on her smooth nose before wiping the stray piece of glitter off. I held my fingertip up to the light, taking in the aquamarine color as it shone brightly under the fluorescent lighting. Squinting my eyes in warning at Mildred, who ignored my glower as usual, I turned on my heel and walked over to the display of fairy statues.

Each of the fairies gave a gentle flutter of their wings in greeting as I passed until I stopped in front of where my favorite troublemaker should have been. “Constance,” I called softly. “Where are you hiding?” A tiny giggle that was more like the sound of crystal glasses meeting together came from behind me. With an exasperated sigh, I walked over and gently picked up the small fairy dressed in a flowing aquamarine gown, the glitter shining from the surface like tiny diamonds. “You need to be more careful.” I brushed a speck of lilac from her chin and knew I would have to clean the sage sticks from her glitter again. “I understand you like taking naps in the sage, Constance, but you know the dragons will throw a fit if you get too close to their territory.”

I placed her back on her shelf, adjusting her so she could see where the dragons were huddled together, protecting their horde of gemstones. I wouldn’t take the stones away; I had plenty of others to sell from the baskets on the shelves against the wall. It made them happy and satisfied their need to collect. Sometimes, when they acted up in the past, Grandmother would take their treasures away to teach them a lesson, but I’d always felt bad for them as a child. When Grandmother wasn’t looking, I would sneak their little stones and trinkets back to see their grins return.

As I walked toward the big glass case near the back where my cash register sat, I glanced around to see if there were any other disturbances. Surprisingly, everything seemed tidy. I was used to the mischief that the shop’s inhabitants could get up to, but sometimes, they could still shock me. I set my black leather purse and the coffee I’d been carrying on top of the glass and squinted, tilting my head to the left as I looked at the items inside the case. Something was off, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.

As I leaned forward to take a closer look at the display of athames, a soft purr and rubbing of fur distracted me. I looked down at my ankles to see Mortimer, Grandmother’s familiar, greeting me.

“Good morning, Mortimer.” I squatted, my knees together, and pointed to the side, the only way a lady would ever squat, at least according to my mother. While my grandmother had taught me how to be the strongest witch the family line had ever seen, my mom had insisted on teaching me the grace of being a woman. I learned to play with dirt while gardening with one woman and the art of makeup application from the other.

“The shop seems to have behaved itself last night.” Mortimer looked up at me with his bright yellow eyes and let out an aggravated meow. I chuckled as I scratched behind his ears. “I know the fairies can be a little rambunctious. You keep them in line as well as you can.” He meowed again, louder, and pawed at me as if he were worked up about something. He was probably wanting his can of food. I was a few minutes late getting in since I’d had a craving for a caramel latte from the coffee shop down the street. I’d had a weird feeling wake me up in the middle of the night, and I had a rough time falling back to sleep afterward.

With a final scratch under his chin, I stood back up and ran my hand over my short black skirt. I gave the athames another glance before shaking my head.

Walking around the counter, I reached for the frilly apron with the store’s logo on the front. The dancing dragonfly surrounded by floating orbs of iridescent colors was the same logo that had been painted on the large glass pane in the front of the shop since I was a little girl. It was still as vibrant as the day it was painted since the spell over the shop would ensure that it would never fade, just like the bright paint on the front door.

Everything about the shop was magical, from the figurines that sometimes threw parties in the dried herbs, to the gemstones that would rearrange themselves by size, color, or just some random order I couldn’t figure out. Luckily, the shop window was spelled as well, so any passersby would see only items on display instead of the magic.

The hardest part about my job was selling one of my precious figurines, knowing that once it left the walls of Oohs, Ahhhs, and Orbs, the magic would dissipate and become ordinary resin, metal, or crystal. While I was happy for the customer who would be bringing such charming beauty into their home, I mourned the loss of a friend.

The bell tinkled over the door, and I glanced up, a smile already curving my lips in greeting, to see the best friend who wasn’t related to me walk by Mildred, stop, back up, then stick her tongue out. I shook my head and grinned. Shayla strode up to the glass counter, all swaying hips and gorgeous face. I picked up my cup, taking a sip as I looked her over. She was wearing yoga pants, and I knew the sweaty T-shirt she had on covered a sports bra that likely cost more than my entire outfit. Shayla was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. She was also one of the kindest, generous, and quick-tempered.

“You know, I think I am going to gift Mildred to you for your birthday,” I remarked casually, hiding my smirk behind the cup as Shayla glowered at me.

“Don’t you dare. That miscreant would be throwing ragers in the pantry if she got the chance. I would probably wake up to five pounds of flour on the floor and Corn Flakes crushed into my couch cushions.”

“You don’t even eat Corn Flakes,” I snickered as she collapsed across the top of the glass counter, making Mortimer hiss and hop to the floor. Shayla hissed back as he slunk off to his cat tree in the corner.

Shayla had been my best friend since the fourth grade when I caught sight of a group of little shithead bullies surrounding her during recess. As the tallest kid in our grade, she had been all long arms and longer legs, always preferring to read a book alone instead of playing with everyone else. Even though she was also the brightest and prettiest, it somehow made her a target to be picked on by the insecure jerks.

Someone had taken her book from her and was passing it around in a fucked up game of keep away. I walked straight through the group of bullies. Snatching the book from behind the one holding it, I marched right up to Shayla before they knew I was there. After handing it back to her, I stood there, shielding Shayla even though I was shorter than her by almost a foot. From then on, we were sisters of the heart. With my support, Shayla started sticking up for herself, and we were unofficially adopted by each other’s families.

We couldn’t have been more different. Shayla was dark-skinned, while I was pale as a ghost. Her head was currently shaved bald, while mine was bright red and straight as a ruler. When we were children, I loved the elaborate hairstyles her mother gave her, with the shiny beads and ponytails, while mine refused to stay in a single braid. Not much has changed since I stepped into my twenties. My hair was still straight, still bright red, though a little darker and less orangey, thank the Goddess, while Shayla decided to shave her head in our senior year of high school. It absolutely suited her beautifully.

“How many miles did you run today?” I reached under the counter and grabbed a bottle of water, setting it on the glass. Shayla threw me a grateful smile as she scooped it up and quickly took several deep swallows after twisting off the cap.

With a gasping breath, she responded, “Five.” After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she grinned at me. “Want to come with me tomorrow morning?”

I snorted as I turned around and scanned through my stash of potions before picking up a bottle of orange liquid. I held it out for Shayla. “You know I only run if zombies are chasing me.”

With a laugh, she took the vial from me and uncorked it, then hesitated. “It doesn’t taste like ass, does it?”

I shook my head with a grin. “As if you knew what ass tastes like.”

Shayla shrugged one shoulder. “No, but maybe I wouldn’t mind a little rimming action. It sounded hot in that last romance book I borrowed from you.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that burst from me at her words. Shayla just grinned and drank the potion as if she were downing a shot of tequila. “Oh, my Goddess. I just can’t with you!” I said as I took the vial back, put the cork back in it, and placed it on the shelf I had taken it from to be cleaned and refilled later. I could feel my face grow hot as I remembered the scene she was talking about. Both Shayla and I were virgins, but we read some of the dirtiest, hottest romance books.

Our status wasn’t because of any pact, or vow, or any other such nonsense. Shayla was a virgin because she had decided not to complicate her life with relationships while she focused on school as she worked towards her law degree. She was finishing up her undergraduate classes this year and hopefully moving on to postgraduate in the spring. I was so fucking proud of her.

Me, on the other hand, I was still a virgin because men scared the shit out of me. Not that I was afraid one would or could physically harm me. I was a powerful witch and had no doubts that I would be able to protect myself from just about any external harm. No, my fear psychologically stemmed from the relationships that failed for my mother and grandmother.

Both of them had been deeply in love before I was born. The man who had been my grandfather had been Grandmother’s fated mate. As soon as she revealed that she was a witch, he left town and never looked back, not knowing that he had left Grandmother pregnant. It was questionable if the knowledge would have changed his mind. All I know is that Grandmother’s heart was broken, and she never tried to find another companion, not for love anyway.

My own father passed away shortly before I was born, leaving my mother heartbroken. Without any powers, she wouldn’t have known if he was her fated mate or not, but in her heart, he was everything to her. When he died, so did a part of herself. As far as I knew, she’d never even looked for a man to spend the night with.

All that to say, I was scared out of my mind that the same thing would happen to me. It hurt my heart to see my mother so broken, and it angered me that my grandmother’s mate could leave her so easily. So I stayed away from men and absolutely never touched them unless I knew for certain that they couldn’t possibly be my mate. That didn’t mean I couldn’t fantasize about some of the things I read in the smutty books Shayla and I passed back and forth.

Palms slapping down on the glass made me jump as Shayla gasped with a laugh. “Holy shit! You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? You want someone to tongue your asshole!”

Just then, the bell over the door rang, causing me to nearly expire where I stood. I croaked out a welcome as my face flamed, and Shayla giggled. I leaned in and hissed. “Will you stop? No! I do not want my asshole licked! Goddess! What is wrong with you?”

She giggled-snorted, trying to control herself but failing miserably. “Never say never! I say anything is worth trying at least once.” She took a deep breath and fanned herself as she finally managed to reign in her laughter. “Whew! I needed that. So, tell me, if it wasn’t the rimming, what made you blush so hard?”

I thought of the commanding way the male lead had taken charge and took the heroine with deep, powerful strokes while he held her still with his fist wrapped around her hair and could feel my face lighting up all over again. I cleared my throat as Shayla hooted with laughter.

“Oh, girl, I really need to know now!”

My customer, who appeared to be in her sixties, walked up, holding a fairy statue in her hands. Her eyes bounced back and forth between me and my friend as she hesitantly approached. I gave the brightest smile I could muster under the circumstances and gestured her forward while using my other hand to give Shayla a hard shove to the side.

“Please, ignore us. My friend here was just stopping by on her way to school.” I glared at my best friend in the whole world. “Right, Shayla?”

She snorted and snatched up her bottle of water, then waved. “Right. See you after class. Don’t forget you need to finish Midnight Master so we can discuss it later!”

I inwardly groaned as Shayla walked out the front door, but not before pointing a finger at Mildred and giving her the stink eye.

“Oh! Are you reading Midnight Master , the new book that just came out? Oh my goodness, I loved that book! The hero was so deliciously hot. It was so good, I asked my husband to reenact some of the spicier love scenes with me.”

I was frozen in shock with a strained smile. How did this always happen to me? As the woman described exactly which scene she and her husband tried out, I was torn between high-fiving her while saying, “Woo hoo, get you some, girl!” and being mortified that a stranger was telling me all about her sex life. In detail . In the end, I decided that if I ever did end up with a man, I wanted to be like her when I grew up.