“It’s done, Shana. Stop fighting me—it’s done.”
Shana let out a sob and slumped against the grass. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I spelled the lemonade, hoping someone would look at me, love me.” She stared past Claire, her voice wavering. “But they just took the lemonade and walked away. I wanted them to not hate me—I wanted them to pay attention to me.”
“You certainly got their attention.” Claire closed her eyes for a moment, let her senses spread out. The spell had begun to let go, those still affected shaking free. Some of them were mortified by their chosen love interest, others barely able to remember what had happened. When her mind touched Annie, she smiled. Her best friend looked shell-shocked, and more than a little embarrassed. “You’re not alone here, Shana.”
“What do you mean?’ She sniffed, looking up at Claire.
“The coven may be gone, but there are other witches here in Santa Luna. Witches you can learn from, if you only ask.”
“They won’t want to help me now.”
“I can put in a good word, if you like.” Claire smiled. “They all frequent my shop.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because if you truly meant to harm, you wouldn’t have put a love spell in the lemonade.”
Claire sighed, and rolled off Shana, groaning as her back touched the ground. That ancient pain would take weeks to subside completely.
“I’m—sorry I hurt you.”
“Apology accepted. The fault wasn’t entirely yours.” With another groan, she gathered her fading strength, pushed herself up and climbed to her feet. “I want you to come home with me, Shana. It will be safest for you, until I can sort things out with the local witches.”
Shana paled as she understood. “They’ll know it was me.”
“Not right away—but they will have sensed the spell. It was quite powerful.” She held her hand out and helped Shana stand. “You are talented, sweetheart, and if you decide to stay in Santa Luna, I will be happy to direct you to a mentor.”
“Why are you helping me?” Suspicion and fear rolled off the girl.
Claire tightened her grip, and reached out to tuck strands of black hair behind Shana’s ear. “Because I know how it feels to be alone.”
Shana burst into tears and threw herself at Claire.
Gently, Claire rubbed the girl’s back, muttered soothing words as she laid a calming spell. She ignored the fresh burst of pain when Shana dug shaking fingers into her back, and focused on her spell, on the young witch who needed her.
It felt good to be needed.
After settling Shana at her house, Claire slowly made her down the alley, her constant battle to protect herself from the love spell finally catching up with her. She leaned against the back wall of her shop, gave herself a couple of minutes, then unlocked the door. Annie pounced on her the moment she stepped inside.
“Where is she? Where’s the asshat who love-spelled the lemonade?”
Under her anger, Claire sensed the embarrassment, and the fear that she hadn’t been able to protect herself.
“She’s been subdued, and the spell neutralized. Annie—ˮ
“Don’t say it. I’m already mortified enough.” She stepped back, crossing her arms. “I can still feel—love. Is that normal?”
Claire nodded. “The spell was powerful. Most people will feel a fondness for who—or what—they fell in love with.”
Annie fought a smile. “Do you mean—Mildred is going to be fond of trees from now on?” She barely managed to finish before she burst out laughing.
“She’ll feel more kindly toward plants in general. Don’t look for her to be hugging trees again anytime soon.”
“Too bad.” Annie wiped her eyes, and flashed Claire a wicked smile. “I’d love a photo of her tree hugging moment.” Her smile faded, her gaze lingering on Claire’s mouth before she spun and stalked out of the back room.
“Annie—ˮ
“Don’t.” She jerked away from Claire’s hand, putting space between them. “What kind of witch am I, that I couldn’t even deflect a simple love spell?”
“First off, it was not a simple spell. You were caught by surprise—it happens to the best of us.”
“Not to you.”
“You could not be more wrong.”
Annie’s head snapped up, surprise in her brown eyes. “What? When?”
Claire held out her hand, waiting until Annie finally took it before she led the way to her table at the back of the shop. She sat, careful to keep her back from touching the chair. Every inch ached from her battle with the spell, from the pain that still burned between her shoulder blades, and she wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into her bed, and sleep.
But there was still work to do, and a friend who needed to hear what she had to say.
“What I’m about to tell you does not go beyond this conversation.”
“My lips are zipped.”
Claire smiled, then let out a sigh. “I wasn’t always a witch, Annie.”
“Seriously? You’re so—I don’t know, natural about it, like you’ve always been weaving spells.”
“Thank you for the compliment.” She took a moment, and wove her story of half-truth. “I learned about my power by mistake—and nearly killed someone in the process.”
“Oh, God—Claire—ˮ
“It turned out all right. The person happened to be a witch, and the woman who became my mentor, my teacher.”
She had been 18 at the time, and still adjusting to her new life. Even with the wards, her old powers had threatened to surface, to take over—and she had decided to banish them for good. That attempt had backfired in a spectacular way.
“Claire?”
“Sorry—woolgathering.” She took a deep breath, and kept going. “I’m not infallible, Annie. None of us are. You have to trust your training, and more important, trust your instincts. I can help you with the first, but you will have to nurture the second. Let me ask you something; when you sensed the love spell, what was your first thought?”
“To duck.”
Claire smiled. “But you thought it was silly, am I right?”
“I figured—I don’t know.” Annie hunched her shoulders. “That ducking was too easy.”
“Sometimes, easy is the best solution.” She leaned forward, cradled Annie’s cheek. “Trust yourself, my dear Annie. Listen to that quiet voice. It will never steer you wrong.”
“It told me to walk into your store that day.” She took Claire’s hand, her grip tight. “I’m so glad I did.”
“As am I.” Before she gave in to the tears that lodged in her throat, Claire stood, leaning forward to gently kiss Annie. “I love you, Annie Sullivan.”
“I love you back, Claire Wiche—and not in an icky, I’ll die if you don’t love me kind of way.”
Claire burst out laughing. It cleared away her tears, and eased the lingering pain.
“I’m going to close early, check on those affected by the spell. Would you like to join me? I can use an objective eye, and a fellow witch at my side.”
“I’d be honored.”
“Excellent. We can finish off with a nice steak at the pub.”
“Only if I pay.”
“Annie—ˮ
“I mean it, Claire. You buy lunch for me all the time. It’s my turn to treat you.”
“All right.” She headed to the front, stopping long enough to grab her sweater and keys from behind the counter before she turned off the lights. “Let’s go assess the damage.”
It took a good week for most of the victims of Shana’s love spell to completely recover.
Claire would come across one of them, standing in front of the object of their spelled affection, and gently unbind them again. Several times she had found Mildred, in front of her shop, gazing lovingly up at the oak tree.
She had to stop Annie from taking a photo, more than once.
By the time March arrived, along with the appearance of St. Patrick’s Da
y décor, the town had all but forgotten about their odd day of falling in love at first sight.
Claire was adding the finishing touches to her display window when she caught sight of Shana, standing on the sidewalk. She waved, and headed outside, catching the young witch before she could escape.
“Shana. How lovely to see you.” Rich blonde hair cloaked her shoulders. “I like the new look.”
Shana touched her hair. “I was—I was walking by, and I thought I could—ˮ She startled Claire by hugging her around the waist. “I wanted to thank you,” she whispered. “Willow is amazing.”
“I am happy to hear it, sweetheart.” Claire had introduced her to Willow, one of the town’s most experienced witches, and they had bonded immediately. She eased out of Shana’s grip, pain still lingering in her back. “Would you like to come inside? I have a pot of tea on.”
“Thanks, but I’m on my way to my next lesson. Love spells,” she said, a blush staining her cheeks. “Willow wants me to understand their power, and how dangerous they can be.”
“A hard lesson to learn. I don’t do love spells, for all the reasons you’ll learn today. Tell Willow I said hello.”
“I will. Bye.” She waved at Claire and ran down Forest, headed for Willow’s small cottage near the beach.
Claire took a minute, to breathe in the cool, salt-laced air, and admire the tree-lined street. Locals strolled, some of them waving to Claire as they passed. She waved back, and smiled, feeling like she had finally found a home.
After spending so much time alone, afraid that her past would catch up with her, being able to settle here had been nothing short of a miracle. She treasured every day, and every friendship, no matter how fleeting.
This was a life she had only dreamed of, with little hope of it happening. She would never take it for granted—and she would protect those she cared about, no matter what she had to face.
Ready to read more of Claire’s adventures? You can dive into The Claire Wiche Chronicles here:
http://catedeanwrites.com/claire-wiche/
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About the Author
Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand and put more than two words together on paper. She grew up losing herself in the wilds of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping through the UK, and a few other parts of the world.
A lover of all things supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique edge. When she's not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.
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