Page 2 of The Fang Arrangement (Celestial Witches #2)

PRESENT DAY

I charm the box of all the herbs and flowers to be lighter as I ride my bike downtown to Goddess Apothecary. I’m regretting riding my bike as sweat trickles on my neck, spring is an illusion in Louisiana.

The major plus side is I can park my bike right in front of the shop and not have to deal with parking.

My finger tingles as I do and I shake out my hand, every now and then I get this phantom feeling in my pointer finger.

I glance around the lot, thinking I see something in the distance, but when I look back there’s nothing there.

I shake my head at myself, this happens way too often. Maybe my grandmother is right, I have an overactive imagination, always seeing things that aren’t there.

The feeling of being watched leaves me as I head down Main Street.

My best friend Violet’s husband, Silas, who happens to be the Alpha of the Moon Walker Pack, basically owns the town now.

He’s made major improvements, but all good things take time.

Just like our relationship with the wolf shifters.

Even though our coven is no longer a cult run by a psychopathic witch with outdated views, there’s still a long way to go with our relations with other supernatural beings.

The bell chimes over the door as Iris yells out, “Just a minute!”

I place the box on the counter and look around.

Iris built this shop from the ground up.

Her mother and grandmother weren’t highly skilled potion makers, her grandmother was a seer, and her mom, well we don’t talk about her much.

My smart and too-wise-for-her-years friend is impressive and talented.

Then there’s Violet, who’s the future High Priestess of the coven, she picked up magic like it was nothing, and is the most talented healer we’ve had in generations.

Comparison is a slow killer, and I try to not let it bother me, I really do. It’s not that I feel jealousy toward my friends’ gifts, I just feel like out of the three of us I have less to show for myself.

Sure, my herbs and flowers are important to the coven, but I’m replaceable.

I’m a completely average witch, and it’s been a tougher pill to swallow as of late.

Maybe it’s because of the huge shift in our coven, and watching Violet bridge the gap between the witches and the shifters.

There’s this deep down yearning in my gut for adventure and figuring out where I fit in the grand scheme of things.

Not that I’ve shared what I’m feeling with anyone else.

I’m always happy when I’m around anyone in my coven, always ready to crack a joke or lighten the mood. Suppressing feelings is way easier than saying them out loud. Even if that means I’m like a slow cooking potion in a cauldron, simmering until my emotions boil over the smallest thing.

I take a look at all the beauty products on the shelves and sigh, guilt churning in my stomach for all my negative thinking.

“Hey Ember, thanks for bringing these all down,” Iris says as she opens the box and starts taking everything out on the counter, organizing different plants and flowers based on what she’ll need them for.

Iris is beautiful with her skin glowing as it normally does, but her amber eyes look haunted, like she hasn’t been sleeping.

“Just because you live above the shop doesn’t mean you have to work all the time. You’re getting enough sleep?” I ask her.

She waves me off, as she usually does. It seems like I’m not the only witch bottling my feelings up around here. “I’m fine, just been working on some potions that require more around the clock care.”

She’s lying, and I don’t know why, but I won’t push her.

Iris, Violet, and I may be sisters in our own right, but we’re all the same with having our secrets. I mean, hell, Violet was married to our enemy and didn’t tell us until she had to. Her marrying Silas and uniting the wolves and witches is one of the best things to happen to the coven.

Whatever Iris is hiding, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.

“Alright, are we going to test this new hair potion out or what?” Iris asks, changing the direction of the conversation.

“Let’s do it,” I say, sitting in the worn, brown chair in the corner.

The chime dings with someone’s arrival, and I smile, realizing it’s Violet.

“Oh perfect, let’s see if this is strong enough on the white pieces of your hair too,” Iris says excitedly as she swirls the pink bottle.

“You know it won’t work. How many potions have you tried now?” Violet says, but still sits down, knowing that Iris has to test the theory.

“I think about fifty. Can’t hurt,” Iris says, putting it on my hair first, running her fingers through my long wavy strands. “Let it sit for twenty minutes,” she tells me before taking a test piece of Violet’s hair and placing the potion on.

A timer goes off in the distance and Iris curses.

“Twenty minutes. I’ll be right back!”

Violet and I give each other a look, one that clearly shows that we’re both worried about our friend.

Violet clears her throat, neither of us verbally addressing what’s going on with Iris. “So…A few new shifters joined the Walker Pack.”

“Oh?” I say, trying to spur some excitement, placing my fist on my chin and resting on the arm of the chair.

I’ve wanted a boyfriend for a long time now, even more so that Violet has paved the way by getting married, changing the rules about relationships within our coven.

Yet, every guy I try to make it work with is lackluster. There’s always a missing spark, and I don’t know what it is.

None of them compare to what I fantasize about, how could they?

Every now and then I drink a little too much and let what those fantasies are slip out, but only ever to Iris and Violet.

They always laugh it off, thinking I’m joking or talking a big game.

Which is fine, because what I dream about will never become a reality.

Even if the coven has become more accepting, there’s no way they would approve of the type of man I’ve been craving.

He doesn’t have a face, not in my dreams, but the things he does to me, no human man or wolf shifter could compare. My visions of him feel so real, that sometimes I think I get reality and fantasy confused.

“What’s his name?”

“Bobby,” she says with a smile as I grimace. “Okay, maybe you can give him a different nickname? He’s really nice, cute too. He was a nomad and has no issues with witches. I was thinking maybe we could set something up?”

I smile at Violet. “How tall is he?”

“Six foot five,” she says with a smirk.

“Alright, I’m in. He’s cute?”

“Yes, and very nice, too. I’ll give him your number.”

I nod at her with a smile, grateful that she wants to set me up with someone. Maybe he could replace this mystery man of my dreams.

I can’t even lie to myself convincingly.

“How are things at home?” I ask her, not wanting to get her too excited about this guy, if I wind up not liking him, it’s no one’s fault but my own.

“Good, really good. I’m happy, Ember. I want you and Iris to be happy too,” she says softly.

I grab her hand and squeeze. “I’m happy, I promise.”

She gives me a weak smile as Iris walks back into the room. Starting with Violet, she casts a quick spell, drying the potion on her hair.

“Well, damn. It didn’t work,” she complains and Violet shrugs her shoulders. “Let’s take a look at you,” she says, casting the same spell, and as soon as she does, they both gasp.

“Oh, Hecate, is it that bad?”

“No, Ember, it looks stunning,” Iris says, handing me a mirror. What used to be a mix of red and strawberry blonde locks is now nearly completely pink.

My mouth parts as I look at myself.

Somehow this feels like an omen for more change to come.

“I love it, Iris, thank you.”

She lets out a relieved breath. “Phew. Good. Well, I have to get back to some potions. I’ll see you two at the ritual later this week?”

It feels like she’s kicking us out, but we both agree as we leave the shop.

“I’ll make sure Bobby gets your number. The hair really does suit you, Em,” Violet says, her light blue eyes shining with happiness as she gives me a hug before going the opposite direction.

I ride my bike home wondering what is wrong with me, why I feel so off-kilter. As I open the gate to the front yard, a small voice whispers my name and I crouch down onto the garden grass. Multiple garden fairies flutter in my direction.

“Miss Ember, the bat is back. It’s in the shutters,” Tabitha says. I hold out my hand and she stands on my palm.

She is the biggest busybody out of all the garden fairies that live in my garden. I give them somewhere safe to live and they help me take care of the vast property.

“The bat isn’t bothering anyone. It just needs a safe place to stay,” I tell her.

The bat has come and gone throughout the years, taking shelter in different places in my cottage. The shutters are their favorites.

“What if it eats one of us!” Domingo shouts and some other fairies nod in agreement.

I try not to smile too hard as I stare down at the small little garden fairy that’s dressed in Barbie clothes they modified for their wispy, membranous wings.

“If the bat causes any issues, I’ll handle it, but for now consider it another creature seeking refuge in the gardens.”

Domingo and Tabitha both glare at me, which has no heat, considering how small they are. I’m not even sure they could wrap their arms around my wrist.

“Do you want to wake up one morning to us all slaughtered?” Tabitha complains and I sigh.

“No, Tabitha. I’ll ward the garden to ensure that our little bat friend can’t eat anyone,” I say, compromising.

She has her arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing a formal gown and her long, blonde hair is plated with small flower petals woven in.

“Fine, we accept,” she says, irritated, before fluttering away.

I stand out of the dirt, dusting off my jeans and head over to the main cottage.

“The fairies are out for blood. Watch your back,” I whisper to the bat, before entering my home.