Bound by Sorcery: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (The Half-Goddess Chronicles Book 1)

by Antara Mann

  “You know, we should ask him,” Naomi said, pulling me from my inner dialogue. I raised my head from the laptop.

  “What?” I had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Seriously. We’re colleagues after all. I think his name was Drake or Derek — something with a ‘D’, anyway.”

  Ah — she was talking about our competitor. We both had been in his shop; it was somewhat larger than ours, but he didn’t offer tarot reading or divination. Those services remained our best-sellers, along with herbal potions for health, love, and prosperity. We didn’t offer dark magic, of course. Over the years, a few customers had come to us seeking potions or spells to harm or eliminate an enemy. In some cases, we managed to convince them to try protection spells instead, but we never sold or encouraged any type of dark magic. Not ever.

  Our competitor’s shop, on the other hand, seemed to have a darker aura. I couldn’t say for sure that the owner was selling dark magic, but the energy over there was different from our shop’s cozy atmosphere. Maybe it was because we were two women, but there was definitely a difference.

  Our morning passed quietly, with only a few other clients before noon: a shy teenage girl and another pair of tourists. The tourists were one of the main advantages to living in a small seaside town. I had just ordered a packet of incense and candles online when the shop door opened and an attractive man in his early thirties strode briskly in. I immediately recognized him — the owner of Magica World.

  “Hello, ladies.” He looked around our small shop — slyly, it seemed to me — before his gaze settled on me, then on Naomi.

  Naomi was a free spirit who loved to party, and seemed to have a new boyfriend every other week. Her motto was “Love ’em and leave ’em.” She was well accustomed to attention and flirting from men and had never been shy, but still she blushed under the shamelessly lecherous ogling this man was giving her. The fact that he was our competitor clearly bothered her.

  “Hello. What can we help you with?” I intervened. He gave me a smug look, still mentally undressing my best friend.

  “I’m Desmond Cohen, the owner of Magica World,” he introduced himself.

  “Hi, Desmond. I’m Alexandra Shaw, and this is my business partner Naomi Mitchell.”

  He shook our hands and said, “It’s nice to have colleagues in the occult and magic business.” A smile flickered across his face. “Especially when they’re beautiful ladies like you. I would love to get to know you better, so I’d like to invite you to a lecture a friend of mine is holding tonight at my shop.” He approached the cash register and handed each of us a flyer.

  “I’d be delighted if you could come. The topic will be ‘Worship Practices of Egyptian Gods and Goddesses.’”

  “How long will it be?” I asked.

  But Naomi had pulled herself together and said, “Yes, we’d love to come. When does it start?”

  He smiled, showing his white teeth. He was easy on the eyes with a toned body, dark brown hair, blue eyes, and cute dimples, but there was something about him I couldn’t put my finger on — something that repelled me.

  “Eight o’clock is the official start time, but Garrett will probably begin the presentation at eight thirty.”

  “Wonderful. Our shop is open till eight, so we will have time to freshen up before we come.” Naomi employed one of her trademark seductive smiles, maintaining eye contact with him.

  “Great. I’ll look forward to seeing you there.” He smiled at us and left, but not before giving my friend another lewd look. This time, however, she wasn’t embarrassed — on the contrary, she was checking him out too, especially his ass.

  “Wow! What was that, Noe?” I asked.

  She gave me a mischievous look. “We need to explore and be friendly with the competition.”

  “Friendly, huh? I’d say from your body language that the two of you have the potential for something more than friendly relations.”

  Naomi raised her eyebrows and nudged me. “Desmond’s pretty hot! You can’t deny it.”

  Unfortunately, I won’t even try, the voice in my head replied. I started, then looked at the flyer he had handed me. White text against a black background said, “Night of the Egyptian Gods at Magica World. Hosted by Desmond Cohen with special guest Garrett O'Brien. 8 PM. Free admission. Snacks provided.”

  “This guy is trying pretty hard to attract the amateur supernatural crowd — and I guess it’s working. He even managed to arouse your interest,” I said, glancing at Naomi. “You two will make a great couple. You can name your children after Ra or Osiris. Ozzy for short.”

  Naomi flung her flyer at me and I chuckled. I loved to tease her. But underneath the teasing, I was glad we would have the opportunity to get a closer view of Desmond’s operation.

  ***

  That evening, after we had changed and gotten ready, we headed to Desmond’s place. Naomi insisted we wait until after nine, to show that we were uninterested. When we arrived at the shop, there was already a fairly large crowd. All kinds of people — mostly younger — were talking, nibbling on chocolate cookies and snacks, and sipping iced tea, coffee, or water. When Desmond saw us, he came over us to shake our hands.

  “I'm so glad you’re here. I asked Garrett to delay the lecture until you guys arrived.” He smiled before turning to talk to a tall, thin man dressed all in black with piercings in his ears, nose, and upper lip. The two men exchanged a few words, then Garrett moved toward the center of the shop as the majority of the guests took their seats on the chairs that had been arranged in a circle around where he stood. Naomi and I exchanged looks, then joined the crowd.

  The man introduced himself as Garrett O'Brien, an occultist specializing in ancient Egyptian religion and mythology. A lecture about the ancient Egyptian cult of the goddess Isis followed: about her magical abilities, and the legend of her union with Osiris. The lecture was quite interesting, but the presenter spoke quickly and was slightly unclear. After only a short while, I had given up on listening to him. I saw some of the visitors taking notes, while others held muted conversations along the edges of the room. I signaled to Naomi, and we went to the other end of the shop, toward the shelves with books and other merchandise. Some of his products were the same as ours, but looking at the prices, we had to concede that indeed most of the items here were cheaper.

  “I wonder how he’s doing it,” Naomi said.

  “Perhaps you can go off in private with Desmond after the lecture and question him,” I suggested. Naomi nudged me. She was examining a statuette of the god Osiris when two women — one with pink streaks in her hair, the other with blue hair and a long black trench coat — came over. They looked a few years older than us.

  “Hello! I don’t think we’ve met; are you from around here?” the blue-haired lady asked. Now that we stood face to face, I noticed that she had an eye of Horus tattooed on her chest.

  “Yes, we actually run the occult bookshop The Steaming Cauldron, which is just a few intersections from here. You’re welcome to stop by any time.” Naomi smiled at her, and I gave my friend a reproachful look. Now was not the time for self-promotion.

  “Cool,” the pink-haired girl said. She wore several rings on each hand, and a triquetra pendant hung around her neck. “Are you guys going to attend the Temple of Isis meeting on Thursday? Have you been there? Is it any good?”

  l glanced at Naomi, who said, “Pardon? What are you talking about?”

  Тhe pink-haired girl smiled. “From what Desmond and Garrett told us, it’s an occult club — ”

  “Something like a coven,” interrupted the blue-haired woman. “So, you have an occult bookstore — are you witches?”

  I chuckled and looked at Naomi. She nodded, watching the two young women. “Yes, I’m a hedge-witch. I’m Naomi Mitchell.”

  The blue-haired lady stretched out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Naomi. I’m Amelia Gorden, a green witch. This is my friend, Coleen Reed; she’s a hearth-witch.”

  They both t
urned their gaze to me. “Umm, I’m Alex and I’m just human. I don’t have any superpowers.” I laughed awkwardly.

  They looked at me with eyes full of pity. If their own magic were powerful enough, they would have felt my magic, just as I could feel the weak hum of their powers, but I still preferred to pose as a human whenever possible, to be on the safe side. I couldn’t risk random people becoming aware of my abilities.

  After we exchanged a few pleasantries, the two young witches headed off to talk to Desmond, and Naomi and I were again alone.

  “Do you have to be so paranoid? Why can’t you just admit you’re a mage?” Naomi whispered as I sipped my wine.

  “You know it's dangerous to reveal your magical abilities to strangers, especially at gatherings like this where there all kinds of freaks,” I whispered back.

  “Wow! Easy there, girl. Does that mean you and I are freaks too?” She grinned at me as I took a chocolate cookie from the table. In the center of the room, the crowd burst into rapturous applause — apparently Garrett’s lection was already finished.

  “Mmm, these are delicious,” I said over the hubbub. “Try one.”

  “You can’t deny Desmond’s making an effort,” Naomi said as she tasted a cookie.

  “Yes, the food is delicious. Speak of the devil, here he comes.”

  Naomi followed my gaze over to Desmond, who was approaching us. His eyes were fixed on my friend and I saw the corners of his lips curl in a subtle smile.

  “So, did you like the lecture, ladies?” he asked when he was close enough.

  “Yes, we enjoyed it. Great food, by the way,” I said with my mouth half-full. He barely glanced at me, not wanting to take his eyes off of Naomi.

  “You’ve certainly attracted some pretty interesting and diverse people.” Naomi said.

  “Oh yeah. We’ve got participants from New York, Salem, and even San Francisco. The supernatural community is very active over there.” He chuckled and smoothed his blazer. He was dressed with casual elegance: a black blazer with a dark blue shirt, and tailored dark pants. The dark colors made his watchful cool blue eyes stand out. Although I felt somewhat uncomfortable in his presence, I had to concede that he was an extremely attractive man.

  I told you, the voice said in my head.

  Shut up, I snapped back at it.

  “We heard about the club you’re running,” Naomi said.

  “Оh, yes, the Temple of Isis. Would you two be interested?” He smiled at us.

  I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it, but I thought I caught a slightly mocking tone, which disappeared as quickly as it had come. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

  “Need you ask? Alex and I are interested in all sorts of supernatural and religious practices.”

  “In that case, you’re more than welcome. Our next meeting will be on Thursday.” He stepped closer to my friend and put his hand on her shoulder, saying quietly, “I have some rare artifacts which I believe may be of interest to you.”

  She laughed, and he led her across the shop. I winked at her as she left.

  Alone now, I looked around me. Most visitors were standing around the refreshments table, talking. Some had surrounded the lecturer and were asking him questions. I turned my gaze to the shelves and the objects on them, which reminded me of our own shop. Naomi was right: If we couldn’t earn at least a few grand in net profit, we had to think about alternatives. Since I had skills for which organizations like Chaos Corporation would pay well enough that we could keep our business running, it was something I needed to consider.

  But I worried that they would subject me to tests to assess my magic so they could assign me tasks based on my skills and abilities. What would the tests reveal? I didn’t know what kind of supernatural my mother had been before she had disappeared from my life. What if she was a demon? No, that was ridiculous. I felt the familiar lump in my throat, and looked around for Naomi.

  I saw her across the room — she was reading a book, and Desmond had casually slipped an arm around her waist. I smiled and took one last sip of wine, then left the bookshop.

  The fresh fall air cleared my head, which was slightly dazed from the fragrant wine and the magic in the shop. I loved autumn in our little coastal town — the cool, refreshing sea breeze and the colorful palette of the lush foliage invigorated me.

  Wandering through the alleys and streets of Ivy Hills, my thoughts again drifted to my mother: Where was she? Was she alive? Did she remember me at all? I felt the rush of hot tears — in all those years, I hadn’t been able to overcome the sadness that arose from her absence. At that moment I felt terribly lonely — I needed somebody special in my life.

  That thought made me recall my last date with Brendan, and my stomach churned.

  I might not have any answers about my mother, but one thing seemed certain: My love life was doomed.

  ***

  After refreshing myself at home after the lecture, I headed over to the home of my mentor and old friend, Awen. He had been a father figure as well as a mother figure to me throughout my childhood. He had trained me and taught me many things before I’d enrolled in Magica Academy. Once, during one of my rare, brief meetings with my mother, she had told me that whenever I needed help, I should turn to Awen.

  Her advice was not without reason. He was a centuries-old druid. He had lived in the Vedic, Egyptian, Babylonian, Greek, and Roman civilizations, to name a few, and knew all the ancient Celtic rites and rituals. I actually suspected he had invented most if not all of them. He could transform into two animals, a coyote and a hawk. I had always found this pretty impressive; even as a teenager I had known a lot of shifters, but usually they could transform into only one animal.

  But Awen was more than just my teacher and guardian; he was a good friend. He had even lent me and Naomi the money to start our occult bookshop — money we made sure to pay back within the very first year.

  It was a little after eleven in the evening when my Ford Mustang pulled up to Awen’s two-story Victorian house at the edge of our small town, but I knew he would still be awake. Thank magic, the old car was still moving, though the radiator did start to steam after a drive of any length. As soon as we stabilized our financial situation, I’d buy a new car. It was one of the priorities on my to-do list.

  I knocked to announce myself, then let myself in the front door. As I was closing it behind me I heard Awen’s steady steps on the creaking floorboards. He exclaimed, “Alex, for God's sake, is everything all right?” His face took on a worried expression.

  “Yes, yes. I was just at a lecture with Naomi. She stayed at the event, and I wanted to talk to you,” I said, heading for the living room where I’d spent so much of my childhood. Awen’s spacious living room was filled with books — many volumes of mythologies, and rites and rituals of all sorts of religions and spiritual traditions. As a teenager I had tried to read all of them — a Herculean task, even for someone as desperate for knowledge about her magical heritage as I was. I took off my leather jacket and sat on the couch. It was warm and pleasant in his home, with a fire burning in the fireplace, even though it was early October. My mentor’s house was colder than most other buildings, and that was on purpose: He preferred the cooler weather, which reminded him of Britain. He lit the fireplace as soon as the first chilly days of fall came around, but the living room was the only warm room in the house. I noticed a cup of tea on the table and an open book next to it — a typical evening for Awen.

  He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Well, what did you want to talk to me about, Alex? Is everything okay with the Steaming Cauldron?” He winked at me. From the day we had come up with the name, Awen had teased us about the sexual innuendo in it. I wondered what my attitude to romance and sex would be, if I lived as long as him. Would I be laid-back, like Awen, or would I become skeptical about love? Heck, I already had.

  “That’s why I’m here, actually. Have you heard about the new occult shop, Magica World?”

 
He nodded.

  “Well, it’s eating into our profits. Naomi and I have been wondering what to do, and considering my special magic abilities, she…” I cleared my throat, then continued, “she suggested I apply to Chaos Corporation.” I cast a look of anticipation at Awen. He rubbed his chin, then took a few steps across the living room, coming to sit next to me on the couch.

  “You should do whatever you think is best. If you working at Chaos Corporation will help you out, then go for it.”

  I stared at him, incredulous: He, the person who had always told me to be careful about revealing my magic, seemed unperturbed at the prospect of one of the largest magic organizations in the country knowing everything about me. Truth be told, he hadn’t been very pleased when I had started working as an independent supernatural consultant. He hadn’t said anything, but I had felt his silent disapproval, and in the back of my mind I had always wondered if that was connected with my lost mother and her lineage.

  Awen sighed and gave me a hug. He had never said so but I suspected that, in addition to his other gifts, Awen was able to read minds. “Alex, you're an adult and you know how important it is to be cautious. It’s not like you’re going to a party and announcing your powers to try to impress a boy from the Academy. Chaos Corporation’s pre-hiring tests are pretty basic, and they have hundreds of supernaturals working there — I’m sure they’ve seen it all. And anyway, your more unusual abilities only show up when the moon is waxing gibbous or full. The rest of the time you will appear to be a mere elemental mage. I don’t see what you’re worrying about.” Awen’s calm, melodious voice soothed my fears.