by Freya Black
“That, my friend, is the ‘Blackwell Effect,’” she said, making air quotes.
“Blackwell Effect? Really?” I laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“Yep. And you’ve got it bad.”
She was right. I had it bad for a Hexenjager.
Chapter 10
After school, Declan dropped me off at Enchanted Books & Beans. Celeste was running the front of the store while I started another day of training. Kate led me down the back hallway to the ritual room. Twice the size of the office, it was the only room not decorated in purple-and-gold damask wallpaper. The walls were a blue so dark that they appeared black while a chair rail of white molding broke up the paint. Wooden work desks were spread throughout.
By design, the space was windowless, impenetrable by the outside world. The first hour, I helped Kate sort herbs and label apothecary jars. She made me study each one and recite their magical properties before we moved on to the next lesson.
I sighed when Kate handed me the ceremonial cauldron. Stuck with the worst job on the planet, I scraped ash from the cast iron until my fingers went numb.
Sloane’s sudden arrival had set Kate over the edge. She was on high alert, making black salt around the clock.
I set the tool on the counter and slumped over with my elbows on the wooden table. “What’s the point of this?”
Kate huffed at my comment. “What’s the point? Fiona, you can’t be serious. Every Cleary Witch for centuries has done this, your mother included, so don’t even think you’re getting out of this. Black salt is a witch’s lifeline.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I hesitated, trying to think of the right words. “It’s just…I can’t do it anymore.”
She examined the cauldron, as if grading a test I was unaware I had taken. “What did I tell you about salt?”
I caught a hint of condescension in her tone that filled me with indignation.
It wouldn’t be the first time since we’d started our lesson that I rolled my eyes. “Salt does what you tell it to do.”
“Right. Salt does what you tell it to do. Do you know what that means?”
I paused for a few seconds, not because I didn’t know the answer. Perception was second nature for a Crescent Witch. I knew with absolute certainty that Kate was hiding something. Just like my mother, she never did anything without a reason, which worried me.
“It can be used to the caster’s advantage,” I said.
Kate took a handful of black salt from a glass bowl and let it slip through her fingers. “Never leave home without it. Always carry a pouch with you. You never know when you will need it. If the Hexenjager tries anything, make a circle and bind yourself inside. Do you remember the Binding spell?”
I should have told Kate about Sloane. For whatever reason, I felt protective of him because he was my little secret. Every time I tried to mention the prophecy she had spoken of in my vision, I’d chicken out. She would eventually tell me what I needed to know—or at least I hoped she would.
“Yes, I’ve been practicing,” I said, irritated by her attitude.
She scooted her stool closer to the wooden table and sorted the herbs in her apothecary jars. “Magic comes natural to you, just like it did for your parents. You will be a great leader someday, but you need to learn the basics first. Whether you realize it or not, this is very important.”
“I know. I’m just tired, and I haven’t been sleeping.”
She bobbed her head, and when our eyes met, I saw the dark blue circles under her eyes. I’d kept her up with my nightmares the past week, and it was clearly wearing on her.
“You know, when you were three years old, you showed the first signs of Telepathy. Most of the Inner Circle’s children showed no signs of their gifts until they were teenagers. Not you though. You’ve always been special.”
I mixed the ash into the salt with my hands. “It doesn’t feel that way. Without Mom, I have no idea how to use my powers. I can’t control my dreams, and half of the time, I’m not sure if they’re premonitions or nightmares. I have never felt so powerless.”
“Your mother had the same problems, but once we bind the circle, it will get easier. The rest of our Coven’s powers will help keep you grounded, more focused. If you want, we can try an herbal remedy to help you work on your visions.”
“No, that’s okay. I guess I’ll see what happens. But if it’s this hard now, what will it be like when I’m seeing the future on a daily basis?” My emotions started getting the best of me, and I had trouble keeping my voice steady. “Seeing the future sucks. No Crescent Witch, not even Mom, could escape our family’s curse. I’m going to end up just like her and Grandma and every Crescent Witch before them.”
“I know, sweetie, but you can do this. I know you can. Your mother knew it.” Kate flashed a quick smile. “Remember, she could see the future, too.”
“I’m just freaked out…and I miss her. I keep having the dream of the Divine Succession Ceremony every night, and instead of succeeding you, Mom is there.”
“They’re just dreams,” Kate said, looking up from the herbs she’d crushed with a pestle. She tapped the stone mortar on the table and dumped the contents into a jar. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay. The Gods and Goddess have plans for us.”
“Yeah, but all Cleary witches are cursed. There’s a reason everyone calls it the Cleary Curse and not the Crescent Witch Curse.” I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste on my tongue made me sick to my stomach.
Kate stopped chopping herbs and hooked her arm around me. “I know you’re scared. When you were born, I was only a few years younger than you are now. It was one of the happiest days of my life. Since the first time I held you, I knew I had to protect you, and I’ve been afraid of the curse ever since.” She feigned a smile for my benefit. “Hexenjagers killed your grandma for her divine powers while you were in your mother’s womb. Because of Amelia’s condition, my mother went off to deal with them alone. Before she died, she pressed her hand to your mom’s stomach and told her that you, and only you, could break the Cleary Curse.”
My mouth just about hit the floor. “I don’t understand.”
“Every Crescent Witch in our family has paid the price, but the Mandrake bloodline is just as powerful as ours. With your mom’s and dad’s powers combined, you have the ability to defend yourself against dark magic.”
“How?” I mumbled.
Before Kate could respond, the front door chimed. I glanced at the clock on the wall, remembering Celeste had to leave early. “I’ll get it.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” Kate said. “I have to run upstairs for a little while. I’ll be back down later.”
“Okay. I’ll lock up after this last customer.”
I raced into the café and found Sloane sitting at the coffee bar. Like an idiot, I stood there with my mouth flung open. I tried to remain silent, but a loose wooden floorboard creaked under my foot. Sloane swiveled around in a purple Arcadia Gladiators practice jersey and black shorts. His wavy dark hair was tousled, and he looked sexier than normal.
“Fiona…I was hoping you were working today.” The dimple in his cheek popped against his sun-kissed skin.
I slipped behind the counter, returning the smile. “Do you need to pick up your books for the semester?”
He propped his elbows on the bar and leaned into them. “Yes, but I also wanted to see you.”
My heart thumped out of my chest as our eyes met. I couldn’t formulate a coherent thought. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Do you want a coffee?”
“Would you join me?”
I scanned the room, making sure Kate was still upstairs. “Sure.”
One look into those steel-blue eyes, I was putty in his hands. Even though I was terrified, I had to know him. Once I snapped out of it, I poured two cups of coffee and slid one in front of him. I plucked a handful of chocolate chip cookies from the display case and dunked one in my coffee.
>
Sloane laughed when I bit into it. “Some things never change.”
It was hard not to like him. Without reading too much into his comment, I added a cookie to his saucer. Being around him felt as natural as hanging out with Declan while watching Sunday football.
Sloane and I sat in silence for several minutes, eating cookies and sipping our coffees, before I built up the courage to speak. I wanted to avoid the questions rolling through my mind. If anyone were to overhear about magic and prophecies and witch covens, we’d have a scandal on our hands.
I decided to keep the conversation light, and I stuck to small talk. My voice cracked when I spoke, mostly out of fear of his answers, “So, when did you move here?”
“The day we met,” he said without hesitation.
My eyebrow rose in suspicion. “Oh, where from?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
His answer took me by surprise, but it wasn’t like I had room to judge. I was a witch living in a magical town.
“Well, if you like nature, seclusion, and no cell phone reception, you’ll love it here. About thirty minutes out, there are ski resorts at Mount Pocono, but I prefer the Arcadian mountains.”
It seemed silly to welcome him to our town because, for all I knew, he was there to kill me. I wanted the Norms, if they overheard, to assume he was new in town, not a supernatural hunter. I prayed to the Gods and Goddesses that I was wrong about him.
Sloane smiled, his eyes lingering on my face long enough for anxiety to stir inside my chest. The scent of honey wafted off his skin, reminding me of our kiss. It was perfect and wonderful until interrupted by my bizarre vision of Druden.
Sloane set his mug on the saucer and looked up at me. “Do you still go up to Dakota Pointe?”
I almost spit out my drink when he uttered the name of the place that held so many childhood memories. He’d mentioned it in the Arcadian forest while I was in his arms, but his powers had rendered me speechless then.
When I didn’t answer, he continued, “It’s been a long time. Maybe you could show me around sometime.”
On the inside, I was a nervous wreck, accidentally chipping away a chunk of flesh I’d already punctured inside my cheek. “Um…sure.”
Startled by the sound of the door chime and the man who strolled in our direction, I jumped to my feet. A gorgeous man in his early forties with the same defined jawline, wavy black hair, and steel-blue eyes as Sloane stopped in front of the bar. The air around us thickened, like black storm clouds closing in on us. He scanned the carriage house. One by one, patrons slowly moved their heads toward him and then turned back to center, as if he were their master. I could tell by their stoic expressions that he’d used his mind to control them.
“Now that we’re alone,” he said with a smirk.
Sloane hopped to his feet and threw his arms around the man. They were the same height and build. They even had the same deep voice.
“Dad,” he said, collapsing onto his shoulder, “I thought I would never see you again.” He held his father at arm’s length, staring at him in disbelief. “After I jumped through the portal, I thought I could get back to Krona.”
“It’s okay, son,” he said, his mouth turned upward. “All that matters is, you’re okay, and you found your way back to Arcadia.”
Sloane was about to respond until his father peeked over his shoulder at me and took a seat at the counter. I slinked out from behind the espresso machine. Like Sloane, the man’s chiseled features and perfect smile made my stomach flutter. He had the kind of face that made girls trip over their heels to steal another peek. Up close, he was intimidating, not in a menacing way. It was more of a biting-my-nails-off-with-nervous-anticipation kind of way. But he was the same man from my visions. He’d protected Sloane, and thereby me, so the prophecy would come true—whatever that meant.
He stretched his hand across the bar, and I shook it.
“Quinn Blackwell.”
My father had said a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know about a person. Quinn had a firm grip and made direct eye contact, and if my father’s theory was correct, that meant I could trust Quinn. He had an air of confidence about him, reminding me of a college professor.
Quinn stared at me, regarding me the same way Sloane had the first time we met.
“You look just like your mother when she was your age. It’s remarkable,” he said. The dimple in his right cheek retracted into his tan skin, replaced by a grim expression. “I heard about your parents…”
Quinn didn’t offer any additional information. I figured he knew they had passed.
His gaze lingered for a few awkward seconds before the sound of breaking glass tore us away from our staring contest. I looked up at the ceiling. The wrought iron and crystal chandelier was still in place. Kate stood in the middle of the spiral staircase, her hand clamped over her mouth. Shards of ceramic were scattered at her feet, and her skin was so pale that it seemed translucent.
Her eyes filled with tears, and when she lowered her hand, Kate said, “Quinn?” She gripped the railing, the color of her skin fading with each pulse. “Is it really you?” The tone of her voice sounded hopeful, almost painful, as if she couldn’t bear the answer.
“Kate,” Quinn said in a hushed tone. He moved across the café, closing the distance between them.
She glided down the stairs, her heels clacking on the wooden planks. “It’s not possible.” She shook her head with a look of horror and excitement plastered on her face. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
Chapter 11
I wanted to dance on the coffee bar and high-five Sloane. I was so overjoyed by Kate’s proclamation. Every suspicion I’d had evaporated. Sloane was not a Hexenjager.
Kate jumped from the spiral staircase and into Quinn’s arms. She wrapped her legs around him and nuzzled her face against his neck. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she lifted her head. Their unusual display of affection shocked me, but Sloane seemed less surprised.
Kate cupped Quinn’s face in her hands, choking out between sobs, “It’s really you.” Her eyes grew wider, and she kissed his cheek. “I can’t believe it. You’re alive! How?”
“Little Katie Cleary.” Quinn’s face lit up, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
“But…but we heard you were dead,” Kate stammered.
“Very much alive,” he said.
I shook my head at Sloane. We watched as they settled on the couch, cradled in each other’s arms. That was the first time I had seen Kate show affection toward a man. Sloane smiled when our eyes met, and he slid his hand across the counter. His fingertips brushed mine, and a powerful energy surged through me. I loved the feeling, but it freaked me out. It was impossible to act nonchalant.
I slipped my hand off the edge of the bar and set a carafe of coffee down in its place.
Sloane leaned back in his chair and looked away, as if embarrassed. “Sorry…old habits.”
“What are you talking about?” My harsh tone was unrecognizable. I took a step backward, bumping into the chalkboard on the wall. “You owe me some answers.”
He leaned closer, unaffected by my mood. “I know. Just be patient, Nona.”
“No! You promised to tell me everything, and I’m holding you to it. For starters, what were you looking for in the woods?”
He swiveled to the side and glanced at Quinn, his lips stretched into a hard line. I could tell he was hiding something. Everyone was in on the secret, except for me. Irritated by the awkward silence, I reached under the bar and added four mugs to my serving tray.
“Do you need help with that?”
The crease in Sloane’s cheek and the puppy-dog look in his eyes made it hard to stay mad at him, but I needed to know the truth.
I shoved the tray at him. “Answer my question!”
Sloane lifted a mug that had fallen to its side and set it back on the saucer. “I was looking for my
dad.”
I threw my hands above my head and yelled with every bit of intended sarcasm, “Hey, Katie Cleary! You want to tell me what’s going on around here? Am I being punked or something?”
Kate laughed once and shrugged at Quinn. “Sweetie, I don’t want you to get upset. There’s no easy way to say it.” Kate sucked in a deep breath and paused. “Six months before the accident, your mother erased some of your memories.”
My mouth opened and closed, and when reality set in, a wave of fury rushed over me. I balled my hands into fists and closed my eyes. As much as I tried to get ahold of my powers, the mugs on the tray rattled against one another. I could hear the candelabras swaying from the wooden beams, creaking with each movement.
“She’s much stronger than I imagined,” Quinn said to Kate, not meaning for me to hear.
“You have no idea,” Kate whispered. “That’s nothing.”
I sucked in a deep breath and shook my hands loose at my sides. “My memories are all I have left.” With my powers under control, I lifted the tray and walked around to the other side of the bar. “How could she do that to me?”
“I need to show you something,” Kate said.
Quinn helped her to her feet.
Kate marched through the store, a stack of receipts falling on the floor as she passed. I trailed behind Sloane and climbed the stairs in silence. Consumed by a mixture of anger and sadness, I fought back my tears. She stopped in front of a mahogany bookcase at the end of the hallway, removing a book wrapped in dark purple canvas from the center shelf. Metal ground as gears shifted into place, and when we heard a click, she pushed the door open.
Hundreds of candles simultaneously ignited, illuminating copper tiles that shimmered as I walked. At the center of the room, a dozen identical high-back chairs surrounded an antique table emblazoned with the Luna Crescent emblem. My attention shifted to the thirteenth chair. It was much larger, laden in purple velvet.
I ran my fingers down the soft fabric. The last time I’d sat in my mother’s chair was right before the accident.