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Southern Potions

Page 3

by Amy Boyles


  Mattie jumped from the windowsill. “You need some TLC, sugarbear.”

  I stretched a kink from my neck. “Ow. If I win today, I will personally make you a new pillow to lie on.”

  “I could use it.” Mattie glanced at the clock. “What time are you supposed to be there?”

  “Ten.”

  “It’s nine thirty.”

  “Crap! I overslept.” I jumped in the shower, slapped lotion all over my body and threw on some clothes. “Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!”

  Hugo stared at me with huge question marks in his eyes.

  “I’m late, Hugo. Come on, y’all! Let’s go.”

  “Pepper,” Cordelia yelled from downstairs. “Are you coming?”

  I opened my door. “Yes! Go without me. I’ll catch up.”

  A few minutes later I shouldered my purse, threw on my coat and headed out the door.

  “Wait,” Mattie said. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?” I dug in my heels to stop.

  “The potions!”

  I nearly fisted myself in the head. “Yes!”

  I grabbed a box rattling with corked vials that were filled to their brims with purple liquid.

  By the time I arrived at the contest, the whole town was there. Tables were set up all over the park across from Bubbling Cauldron. A grand judging table had been set up. A man in a white cravat and dark suit walked around like he owned Magnolia Cove.

  Cordelia sidled up to me. “Saltz Swift.”

  I clutched my chest. “Ah! You about scared me to death’s open door.”

  “I almost wish I had.” She winked to let me know she was joking.

  I leaned forward. My breath caught in my throat. Wait. She’d said almost wish. Not the same as a real, full-on wish. I relaxed.

  “Where are y’all?”

  Cordelia pointed to a table. “We’re over there, but there isn’t room. We tried to save you a spot, but it got snatched up. These witches are cray-cray.”

  Panic filled me. “Where am I going to set up?”

  Cordelia nodded to a long table at the very front. The table I’d seen Saltz Swift parading in front of.

  Ugh. I didn’t exactly want to be under the potion master’s nose, but what other choice did I have?

  As my luck would have it, the only spot left was slap in the middle of the table. I set down my box clinking with vials and began unpacking, same as everyone else. I set the potions out prettily but realized the other contestants had done some serious decorating.

  Plenty of witches had placed pointy hats in front of their vials or they’d draped scarves over the surfaces. One even had little balls of magic circling overhead.

  I mean, come on—little balls of magic? This was a potion contest, not a magical display.

  And then there was me. All I had was a cardboard box and corked vials. Wow. I would’ve felt like an underachiever if I hadn’t spent the past few days barely eating and resting to make my potion really stand out.

  “And you are?”

  The voice took me by surprise. I turned to see Saltz Swift staring down at me.

  His creamy caramel-colored skin was a stark contrast to his ice-blue eyes. His dark hair was twisted into a pompadour at his crown. The man’s aura was all masculine and power. He was seriously intimidating, and I figured he had more magic in his little pinky than I carried in my entire body.

  I mean, that might not be true, but it was certainly the vibe oozing from him.

  “I’m Pepper Dunn.”

  He leaned over the table and plucked one of the vials. “Betty Craple’s granddaughter, I believe.”

  “Yes.” I barely had breath in my lungs. I think Saltz had yanked all of it out with his mere presence.

  “The familiar matcher.”

  “Yes, I do match familiars with their witches.”

  He dragged his gaze from the potion to me. “You should come to the school and give a lecture on it.”

  I did a double take. “I’m sorry?”

  “Surely you know of our school—the Southern School of Magic.”

  Um. I hated to tell him, but I’d never heard its name.

  It seemed Saltz was insulted by this knowledge. He replaced the vial with two fingers as if it had threatened to give him herpes. “I see your grandmother hasn’t bothered to teach you some of the basics of our lives. That will need to be rectified.”

  Well excuse me.

  “The Southern School of Magic is where all of us learned our craft.” He eyed me up and down and sniffed. “At least for those of us who grew up knowing we were witches. If we don’t receive our powers until we’re older, then that’s a different story.”

  “You’re saying I’m a different story.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Well that’s mighty rich of you.

  He gestured to a vial. “I like how your potion is hiding in plain sight.”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “In your cardboard box, as it were. I wish some of the other contestants would consider hiding their potions since most of them are miserable failures.”

  “Oh.” This Swift guy definitely didn’t mince or chop or even shuffle words, did he? Said exactly what he thought.

  “Tell me, what sort of potion do you have here?”

  “Well, you see—”

  “Potion Master, it’s time for the judging to start.”

  A round man clasping a clipboard ran over to us. His curly mop of hair tumbled in his eyes as he hopped from one foot to the other. “Potion Master, time to start,” he repeated.

  “I know that, Anthony,” Saltz snapped. “I was only talking to young Miss Pepper Dunn here.” He leaned forward. His blue eyes twinkled. “It is Miss, isn’t it?”

  Ugh. I nearly vomited. The fact that he was coming on to me was seriously the most revolting thing that had happened to me in years.

  Before I had a chance to answer, Saltz took my hand. “We’d love to have you at the school. For a lesson,” he affirmed.

  “You’ve got over two hundred potions to judge, Master,” Anthony said impatiently.

  “I know, Anthony. I’m coming.” Saltz smiled. “I pray your potion is up to the test, Miss Dunn.”

  “I hope so.”

  Saltz frowned at Anthony. “It’s only witches and wizards this year, I hope? No half bloods?”

  My heart tightened. By half blood I’m sure he meant someone like Axel.

  Jerk.

  “Let me see.” Anthony checked his clipboard as he whisked Saltz off, reciting a list of folks.

  Axel’s breath warmed my neck. “I see you were getting cozy with Swifty boy.”

  The scents of leather and musk drifted from Axel’s flesh and trickled up my nose. This was as close to heaven as I would ever reach on earth.

  I leaned my back onto his chest. “Thank goodness you’ve rescued me. I thought I was going to turn into slime just talking to him.”

  Axel laughed into my ear. His warm breath tickled my skin and made me smile. “No way you would ever turn into slime. Maybe you’d feel slimy and need a bath, but you wouldn’t turn into it.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  I peeled off Axel and smiled widely. “I got it finished.”

  He glanced at the arrangement of bottles. “You going to tell me what it is?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. It’s a surprise. But I think you’ll like it.”

  He rubbed my arms and smiled. “I’m sure I will.” A thought crossed his face and his expression darkened to the point it nearly frightened me. “But listen, if Swift bothers you, tell me. He’s known to be lecherous.”

  I quirked a brow. “Lecherous? Quite the word.”

  “I use it because it’s true.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Because I’m lecherous.” The spark in his eyes confirmed Axel was joking, but I play punched his arm anyway.

  “Saltz Swift asked me to speak at the school.”

  Axel slid h
is rear onto the table. Seriously, there was nothing sexier than watching him move. Thank you, Jesus, for creating Axel Reign and making him mine—all mine.

  He grazed a thumb down his straight jaw. “Did he now? Wants you for the school?”

  “He wants me to talk about familiars.”

  “Great idea. There should be a class or lecture taught on that. It’s important.”

  I poked him. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Absolutely not. Children should know the rules of familiars and how the animals play an integral part in each witch’s magic. If anyone should teach them that, it should be you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I hope you’re joking. I barely know anything about familiars. I can match, but teaching someone how to use their animal is a different story.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  My lips tipped to a smile. “How about I try not to?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen.”

  Axel rose and I turned to the podium. Mayor Battle stood at a lectern, arms wide. “Allow me to welcome you to the one hundredth New Year’s Potion Making Contest. Our illustrious panel of judges—” He pointed to two wizards and one witch. Beautiful loose curls swam around her face.

  “And of course our primary judge, Potion Master Saltz Swift himself!” Mayor Battle pointed to the wizard, who tipped his head to the clapping crowd. “Let the judging begin!”

  And so it went. Each contestant was supposed to bring their potion to the judges for inspection. The entire crowd could hear if not see what the contestants had created.

  “I’m going to grab some food.” Axel dug his hands into his pockets. “You hungry?”

  “Yes. Starving.”

  “Great. There’s a witch food truck just down the street. They serve the best eyeball stew you’ve ever tasted.”

  I think a croak escaped my lips.

  “Kidding. They’ve got pulled pork barbecue sandwiches topped with cole slaw. Want one?”

  “Yes. Dying for one.”

  “I’ll be back.” He kissed me swiftly on the lips and vanished through the crowd.

  “Well well well, I see you’ve brought a potion.”

  I shivered as Shelly Seay sauntered toward me, towing her little dark-haired boy toy behind her. She wore a satin brocade dress that rustled like liquid fire.

  Shelly stopped and turned. “The little witch who only recently became one of us decided that she could play with the big boys.” She cocked her eyes wide. “Is that it?”

  I narrowed my gaze at her. “Listen, just because my grandmother said she didn’t want to have anything to do with your potion doesn’t mean it’s okay to insult me. I don’t go around insulting you and your potions, do I?”

  Shelly’s crimson lips curled into a smirk. “You can try, little girl, but you won’t be able to keep up with me. My potion will win this contest.” She started to move on. Her man Bo practically wagged his tail as he kept up.

  “Besides,” Shelly added, “whoever said your grandmother isn’t helping me?”

  She cackled as she walked on. I opened my mouth to protest, but what was there to argue? I had seen Betty and Shelly talking several days ago. I’d just been so wrapped up in my own world of potions that I’d forgotten to ask my grandmother about it.

  I should have. I definitely should have from the arrogant way Shelly talked.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?”

  The little witch that had nearly attacked my dragon with a magical ball the other day popped up in front of my table. She cocked her head toward Shelly.

  “Shelly, I mean. Most people wouldn’t allow a rumored sorceress at these things, but what do I know? I’m just a School of Magic flunky who likes to make potions.”

  I smiled. Even if she had almost hurt my dragon, the witch at least seemed nice. “I’m Pepper Dunn, and I’m not particularly fond of Shelly, either.”

  The witch extended her hand. Dark eyes like buttons peered out from under her mess of ebony hair. Freckles constellated her nose and cheeks, and her grin was big, wide.

  “I’m Gale East. Like a wind. Like an easterly wind at that.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Gale eyed my table. “Good luck to you. I’d better get back to my own potion before someone tries to claim it as their own.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why they would, seeing as I barely managed to perfect it. But anyway, just wanted to give you some support for Shelly. She can be the worst. She used to teach at the school, you know.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’d heard that but don’t know the story.”

  Gale leaned in conspiratorially. “Yep. Taught witch defense. Started out teaching potions, but then Saltz Swift got a job there and of course he’s the potion master, so that’s the job he got. For a while he and Shelly taught together.”

  Gale lowered her voice. “But from what I heard, they were having an affair and the school board got wind of it. So instead of either of them being fired, they moved Shelly to witch defense.”

  From my brief meeting with Saltz, I wasn’t surprised at all.

  “Anyway, I’d better get going. Glad the dragon’s okay.” Gale gave a quick wave and left.

  I stood outside the rest of the day. You wouldn’t believe how long it took for judges to go through two hundred plus entrants, but forever seemed an apt word to describe it.

  By the time the sun burned down the horizon and the sky bled pink and gold, they’d arrived at Shelly Seay’s entry.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Shelly announced to the crowd. Her bright red lips looked especially vivid even in the waning light. Must’ve been some sort of magic spell.

  “Impressive,” Axel said.

  He was such an awesome boyfriend. Axel had spent most of the day keeping me company even though I was pretty much certain he was bored out of his mind.

  The wind picked up. I rubbed the chill from my arms. “What’s impressive?”

  “The fact that Shelly’s bringing the crowd into this. As you’ve seen, none of the other contestants have.”

  “Hmm.”

  Shelly raised her arms high. “Y’all are about to witness the most amazing feat. Tonight, I will transmute a person into an animal without the use of blood magic.”

  The crowd gasped.

  “So dramatic,” Axel murmured. I glanced at him. He winked at me. “Isn’t it fun?”

  I laughed. It was fun.

  “For this,” Shelly continued, “I’m using a volunteer from your very own town. Will all of y’all please welcome Betty Craple to the stage!”

  My jaw dropped. My grandmother suddenly appeared beside Shelly. Betty’s mouth was pinned in a frown, and her arms were folded across her chest.

  Shelly held a vial high. “And now, I’m going to turn your beloved Betty Craple into a toad.”

  My stomach fell to China. My gaze crashed into Axel’s.

  “This should be interesting,” he said.

  I fisted my hands. Yep, it should be.

  FIVE

  Shelly Seay held Betty’s hand. “Tonight I will prove to y’all that transmutation can occur without the use of dark magic. That you don’t need blood to create a potion that uses the dark arts.”

  “Sorceress,” someone yelled from the crowd.

  Shelly snorted. “I see some things don’t change. The prejudice of the past is alive and well in Magnolia Cove.”

  “Shelly,” Saltz Swift snapped, “this is highly against the contest protocol.”

  “No it isn’t,” she said. “I want everyone to see what I’ve created. I don’t want only the panel of judges to witness my greatest achievement. I want all of Magnolia Cove to see that when I win the title of potion mistress, it will be well deserved.”

  Coals of anger burned in her gaze. “And for those naysayers out there, those of you who don’t believe I’ve done what I say I have—fine. You don’t have to believe me, a sorceress, as you say. But do believe Betty Craple. She’s one of
your elite, is she not? Someone that every single one of y’all respects and admires? If you don’t believe me, believe her.”

  Shelly whirled. Her thickly brocaded dress flapped like crow feathers. “Betty, is what I say true?”

  “It is,” Betty stated. “What Shelly has achieved is not done by sorcery. It is true potion making. There is no blood magic here. I was a skeptic. Y’all know I’m a skeptic, but I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. What Shelly has achieved will bring magic into a new century.”

  I rocked back on my heels. “Wow. Betty didn’t want to have anything to do with Shelly.”

  Axel squeezed my shoulder. “Something made her change her mind.”

  A strange smell wafted through the air. It reminded me of mud and sulfur. “Do you smell that?”

  Axel nodded. “Yeah. I don’t like it.”

  “Why not?”

  Before he could answer, my attention was drawn back to Shelly. “One drop of this potion and Betty will become a toad. Another drop and she will return to normal.”

  “Shelly, this spectacle must be stopped.” Saltz stomped over to her.

  “Why? Because I’m about to change witch history forever? Saltz, you will want to see this.”

  She uncorked the vial and let one drop fall onto Betty’s head. Luckily my grandmother was much shorter than Shelly.

  A cloud of smoke hissed from Betty’s crown. The fog enveloped her. All I could hear was the popping and cracking of joints and bones. It lasted several seconds, during which I held my breath.

  My gaze snagged to Cordelia and Amelia. They shot me hopeless looks. I knew we were all thinking the same thing—what if something went wrong? And why the heck didn’t Betty bother to tell us that she was going to go through with it? We would’ve liked to know that our grandmother had decided to be Shelly Seay’s guinea pig in front of a crowd of hundreds.

  You know, we liked being in the loop on these sorts of things.

  But we probably would’ve tried to talk Betty out of it. I know we would have. My grandmother had her reasons for not letting us in on her secret. Her decisions were hers alone.

  I was quickly reminded of that when the smoke cleared and Betty now squatted on the platform as a toad.

  “Crooooaaaak!”

 

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