Spells of the Heart

by Ellen Dugan

  “Come on,” Duncan nudged the cat aside, rose to his feet and pulled me up with him.

  I wobbled, and he wrapped an arm around my waist. “The couch.” I pointed and he led me to it. We’d barely sat down before Luna jumped up and settled into my lap. I ran my hand over her head and felt comforted by her purrs and Duncan’s arm around my shoulders.

  “Has this ever happened to you before?” Duncan asked.

  “You mean the possession?” I said, wanting to be clear.

  “Has it?”

  “No, it hasn’t.”

  “Are you losing blocks of time?” Duncan wanted to know.

  I shuddered. “No, I haven’t been.”

  “You need to be careful Autumn,” Duncan said. “With you being a sensitive, you’re already open to the spirit realm.”

  “Well I don’t want to be that open ever again!”

  “Here, take this.” Duncan reached up and unclasped a chain from around his neck.

  The pendant was a large, dark, oval shaped stone. As he held it out to me, it caught the light and suddenly began to shimmer in an amazing peacock blue and gold against the black. “What type of stone is this?” I asked.

  “Labradorite. It’s a stone that deflects unwanted energies, and it’s highly protective.”

  I held it in my palm for a moment, sensing the vibrations that came from the pendant. The chain was long enough that I was able to slip it over my head. “It’s lovely, thank you.” As soon as it rested against my chest, I felt a sense of calm. We sat silently together for a while, and it was comforting for the both of us.

  “Would you like me to call someone?” Duncan offered.

  “No,” I said, leaning closer to him. “I’m very glad you were here tonight.”

  “So am I.” Duncan gave my shoulders a squeeze. “Sort of like old times, eh?” Duncan said half joking.

  His bright blue eyes were so close to mine, and the longing I felt for him had me trembling. I licked my lips against a suddenly dry mouth. “Duncan, I—”

  Before I could finish, he pressed his lips to mine and shared energy with me. His mouth stayed closed, but power crackled through my body, arching my back and pushing my chest further against his. My heart pounded, my ears buzzed, and all my muscles throbbed at the blending of my energies and his.

  I kissed him back every bit as hard, and somewhere in the back of my mind I had the presence of mind to stop before things got too far out of hand.

  We pulled apart at the same second. Both of us gasping for breath and at the combination of magick, attraction and desire. I felt much steadier from his contribution, but still I unwound myself from him and eased back. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “I feel stronger.”

  “Any time,” he said.

  Who was I trying to fool pretending that we could only be friends? I wondered. There would always be this connection between us.

  “So,” Duncan said, cutting off my inner ramblings. “I think we need to be really truthful with each other. All things considered.”

  “Agreed.” I shifted on the couch and tried to get my rampaging hormones under control.

  Duncan leaned his head back against the sofa. “Since we’re being honest, I’m going to admit that I want you,” he said raggedly. “Very badly.”

  My breath caught in my throat, while a few sexy possibilities raced through my mind. It took everything I had to sit still and to try and remain calm. “And in that spirit of honesty, I will admit that I want you too,” I said. “Though, I’m not sure that this feeling is completely natural.”

  Duncan recoiled. “What?”

  “She said, That recipe never disappoints,” I reminded him.

  Duncan leaned back. “That’s right. You did mention earlier that the chocolate cake was Irene’s recipe.”

  I nodded. “From what I could tell, Irene had adapted the original recipe in that cookbook, and she renamed it Chocolate Sin.” I studied the decadent chocolate dessert that still sat on the cake stand in the kitchen. “I think we may both be under a sort of magickal influence.”

  “Oh boy.” Duncan’s eyes grew large.

  “Makes me wonder if that recipe was actually a sort of culinary spell.”

  “A love spell?”

  I thought about our reactions to the dessert. “Passion inducing spell, maybe.”

  Without a word we both shifted to opposite ends of the couch and were no longer touching. Luna moved between the two of us. She glared at me, shifted to consider Duncan and sat down in the center of the sofa like a kitty chaperone.

  “I’m very sorry,” I began.

  “Stop.” Duncan held up a hand. “I know you’d never purposefully unleash something like that. Would your Aunt Faye know more about this type of magick?”

  “According to what Aunt Faye told me, the family wasn’t happy with the way Irene practiced her Craft, back in the day.”

  Duncan frowned. “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “That’s just it,” I said. “I don’t know.” I patted Luna’s back for comfort. “I haven’t been able to find much out about the woman, besides the fact that she liked lilacs.”

  “I thought I smelled them when I was here working the other day,” Duncan said. “But they only bloom in the spring, right?”

  “That’s correct,” I said. “There are a few really old, leggy lilac shrubs in the back by the garage. I pruned them back hard this spring hoping to encourage more blooms out of them next year...” I trailed off.

  “How old are the shrubs?” Duncan asked.

  “I’d estimate them to be at least fifty years old. They were in bad shape.”

  “So it’s possible that Irene planted them herself?”

  “There’s no way to know for sure, but my instincts say that she did.”

  “Do you have any other information on the woman that might be helpful?”

  “Actually yes. It was Irene who added to the wrought iron fence that surrounds the estate. She divided her yard from the manor’s. Closing in the bungalow and separating the yards.”

  “And separating herself from the family, too.” Duncan said.

  I took off my glasses and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose. “Aunt Faye told us that her sister was a ‘difficult woman’, and because of that I haven’t mentioned to Aunt Faye my interactions with the ghost, or the little cookbook that we found.” I tried not to cringe at the disapproving vibes radiating off Duncan. “I didn’t want to upset Faye,” I tried to explain.

  “When did you find the cookbook?”

  “That first day,” I said, putting my glasses back on. “When we began to clean and paint the bungalow. Holly found the book. It had been hidden behind a loose panel in the pantry.”

  “So it may have been stashed there all the time the Greenes owned the home?”

  “That’s what Holly and I figured.” I shrugged. “I thought it was kitschy and cool, you know? A vintage recipe book belonging to an ancestor, so I displayed it on a stand in the kitchen.”

  Duncan gave my shoulder a squeeze. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “What do I do with it now?” I wondered.

  “I’ll admit I know next to nothing about kitchen magick,” Duncan said. “But I think you’d better be very, very cautious before trying any of her other recipes.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You don’t know any Kitchen Witches, do you?” Duncan said. “Maybe they could offer some advice.”

  “You know what?” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “I think I do know someone who can help. Let me make a quick call.”

  Candice Jacobs showed up fifteen minutes later. She bounced into the house all good cheer, her platinum hair twisted up behind her head and secured with a hot pink clip. She wore denim shorts that had seen better days and a white t-shirt that read, I’m a Pastry Chef I create magick. What’s your superpower?

  “Thanks for coming over so quickly,” I said, bending to give her a hug.

  “Of course.” She kicked her
magenta flip flops off beside the door and stepped down into the living room. “Let’s see this family cookbook of yours.”

  I introduced her to Duncan and they shook hands. Candice held onto his hand and tugged him down closer to her. “That’s interesting,” she said, studying his eyes.

  I was surprised to see the petite Witch go nose to nose with Duncan. She might have been a foot shorter, but she more than held her own. “What’s interesting?” I asked.

  “Autumn, come over here.” She held her free hand out.

  I took her hand. She stood between the two of us and shifted her eyes from Duncan and finally to me. “Hate to break it to you kids, but you both have been nailed by a passion spell.”

  “We figured,” Duncan said.

  Candice dropped our hands and shook hers out. She walked into the kitchen and stopped in front of the table. “Hmmm.” She narrowed her eyes at the cake on the stand and bent over to sniff at the dessert. “So is this our suspect?”

  “It is.” Duncan crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Do you want to taste the cake?” I asked, thinking to get her a fork.

  “Ah, no thanks,” Candice said, her eyes dancing. “I’m not really into threesomes these days.”

  While Duncan gaped at her, I started to laugh. “Oh my god, Candice, I didn’t mean it like that!”

  “I think maybe I should go,” Duncan said.

  “Oh,” I said, surprised. “You don’t have to.”

  “I’ll call and check on you later.” Duncan walked over to me and trailed a finger down my cheek. “Thanks for dinner. It was memorable.” He nodded at Candice. “Nice to meet you.”

  Candice inclined her head. “See you around,” she said.

  Duncan went to the back door. “Keep the pendant on,” he reminded me.

  “I will,” I promised.

  He flashed a grin over his shoulder, and let himself out.

  “Well,” I said, more than a little surprised at his sudden exit.

  “I guess he got spooked by my joke about a threesome.” Candice shrugged.

  “I’ve had a chance to get used to your humor. He hasn’t.” I went to the counter and lifted the old cookbook out of the stand. “Let’s take this into the living room.”

  We made ourselves comfortable on the couch, and I handed the cookbook over to Candice. I waited and watched as she read through the recipe. “What do you think?” I asked when I couldn’t take the suspense any longer.

  “I think it’s a freaking miracle that you somehow managed not to tear each other’s clothes off and do it on the kitchen floor,” she said, straight faced.

  My eyes went wide. “Oh shit.”

  “Honey, how many years have you been practicing?” Candice asked.

  “Around four,” I said.

  “My dad told me that you’ve had to learn pretty quickly, but Autumn, there’s really no excuse for not seeing this recipe for the manipulative spell that it is.”

  Shocked at her harsh tone, I stammered. “Well, I—”

  “Seriously girl, how could you not know?” Candice frowned. “For example, the symbols on the page!”

  “The old astrological doodles?” I said. “I figured they were simply a decorative touch...” I trailed off as she glowered.

  “I assume you did the recommended invocation to the goddess Venus?”

  “The poem that was with the recipe? Yeah sure, I read it last night,” I said, not following her.

  “Out loud?” Candice asked.

  Confused, by the question, I frowned. “Yes, out loud. Why does that matter?”

  “You read this out loud last night? On a Friday, under the full moon?”

  I adjusted my glasses. “Is that significant?”

  “You dumbass!” Candice slammed a finger on the page. “This isn’t a poem, it’s an invocation.”

  “A what?”

  “An invocation is basically an invitation to a deity to assist you,” Candice said through her teeth. “Or it can be a request for them to come inside of you, allowing the supplicant to take on some of their attributes.”

  “Come inside of you?” I said.

  “Yes, as in divine possession.”

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” I said, borrowing one of my mother’s favorite phrases. Now I was scared. I tried to breathe my way past the anxiety that gripped me.

  “I can tell by the expression on your face that you honestly had no idea,” Candice said softly.

  “It’s more than that,” I admitted. “I once accidentally stepped in a veve and invoked Papa Legba.”

  “You overachiever, you.”

  I winced at her words. “Your father once said the exact same thing to me.”

  Candice patted my shoulder. “Okay, girlfriend, let’s start simple.” Her tone was gentler now. “You know your daily planetary correspondences, right?”

  “The planets and magicks assigned to each day of the week? Yes I do.”

  Candice nodded. “Good. Tell me what the magickal correspondences are for a Friday.”

  I closed my eyes, recalled my early Craft lessons and began reciting. “Friday was named after the goddess Freya—Friday is Freya’s day,” I began. “Planetary correspondence is Venus, associated colors are pink and green, the metal is copper. Coordinating herbs would be violets, roses, spearmint and the willow tree.”

  “Correct,” Candice said. “It also might interest you to know that some of the foods that are associated with Venus include; cherries, sugar, and vanilla.”

  “What about chocolate?” I asked, viewing the cake with new eyes.

  “Chocolate is aligned to the planet Mars,” Candice said. “And if you know your mythology, the god Mars was—”

  “The lover of the goddess Venus,” I finished for her.

  “One of them anyway,” Candice said. “So, taking all of this information into consideration, if you created a culinary spell using chocolate, cherries, vanilla and sugar, and invoked the goddess of sexual love on a Friday under a full moon...”

  “Then I would’ve conjured up a spell to encourage passion and promote sex.” I swallowed hard. I thought back to the night before. “Candice, when I baked that cake, I had some wine, danced around the kitchen, and sang along with the radio.”

  “In other words you raised a lot of energy. And all of it went into the spell.”

  Horrified, I jumped up and grabbed that cake stand off the table. I marched straight to the kitchen garbage can and dumped the cake. I yanked the water on in the sink, added detergent, and got the bubbles going. I stuck the glass stand in, went for the forks and dessert plates and began washing those by hand too.

  Candice joined me at the sink. “Where do you keep your kitchen towels?” she asked easily. I pointed out the correct drawer and Candice quietly dried the dishes as I washed them. “It’s going to be okay.” Candice gave me a little hip bump.

  “I’m more than a little upset that I unknowingly worked that sort of sexually manipulative spell. On Duncan Quinn of all people,” I admitted.

  Candice took the dishcloth from me and went over to the kitchen table. Competently, she wiped it down and drew a banishing pentagram in the air over the table. “Well, you learned a valuable lesson tonight, didn’t you?”

  I wiped my hands on a dry towel. “Yes, I did.”

  “I need to know,” Candice said, walking back to the sink. “Have you worked up any other recipes from that cookbook?”

  My stomach rolled over. “Only a couple.”

  “Show me.” Candice draped the dishcloth over the faucet.

  I fetched the cookbook and carried it to the table. Candice joined me as I sat and flipped through the pages searching for the lemon bar recipe. Looking at the recipe with new eyes I began to put it all together. “I worked this on a Thursday night. I also let it sit on the counter to cool, under the light of the waxing moon.” I gulped.

  “Where are they now?” Candice asked.

  “I took the lemon bars to work and served them at
the potluck.”

  “So those lemon bars got a double whammy of lunar energy.” Candice pursed her lips as she read over the recipe for Lies Be Gone Lemon Bars.

  “Double whammy?” I asked.

  “Lemons are a lunar fruit,” she explained. “Did anything weird happen when folks ate the lemon bars?”

  I dropped my head in my hands. “Yes, three people who’d eaten them spontaneously told me things I really didn’t want to know.”

  Candice shook her head. “According to the recipe, to activate the magick, you have to ask the victim to tell you the truth, and then they can not lie to you.”

  “Victim?” I lifted my head. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

  Candice raised her eyebrows. “What part of ‘manipulative magick’ did you not understand?”

  I dropped my head in my hands again as I thought back to Friday. “I asked them to tell me what they thought of the recipe. But now that I think about it, I never got to finish my sentence. I’m pretty sure all I was able to say was something like, tell me what you think.”

  “Learned more than you wanted, eh?” Candice sat back in her chair. “Were there any other recipes that you worked from this cookbook?”

  I jerked up straight in my chair. “Oh no. I used the No Strings Spaghetti Sauce for supper tonight, and I did use the leftover lemons for the Really Passionate Raspberry Lemonade.”

  “By the old gods, woman,” Candice swore, and began to thumb through the cookbook searching for the recipes. She found them and began to read. “Is the spaghetti all gone?”

  “Yes, we ate it all.” I gulped nervously.

  “Tomatoes are also aligned to the goddess Venus.” Candice said.

  I thought about the astrological correspondences, and took the book back to study the recipe for myself. “I made the sauce this morning, on a Saturday, during a waning moon. The book says for best results to work it on a Friday under the waxing moon.”

  “So the effects weren’t quite as potent.” Candice nodded.

  I stared at the family cookbook with a growing sense of horror.

  Candice raised her eyebrows. “The lemonade you made. Did the potion sit under the light of the moon?”

  “Potion?” I hurriedly flipped to the page with the lemonade recipe.