Logan slid into the driver’s seat. “You sure do look pretty tonight.”
“So do you.” I sneaked glances at his tight jeans and crewneck sweater, which defined the muscles of his shoulders and upper chest. A stubble of dark blond covered his jaw. Golden ringlets teased his ears and collar. I enjoyed a relaxing breath, allowing his scent to wash over me, this time without the fear of falling. Or at least physically falling. Certainly my mind ventured along what seemed like new and dangerous territory, prompted by my hormones zinging in all directions.
As we drove, Logan reached over and took my hand. “We’re going to Dale’s Steakhouse, one of Bentbone’s family restaurants.”
“I’ve noticed the places that do well here seem to be family-run like the Fern Café and Mama’s Pizzeria. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but I was hoping to try some fast food. Just to see what that’s like. We don’t have any in New Wish.”
He stopped at an intersection of country roads and nodded past me. “I can head to the other end of town if you’d rather go to Dairy Queen. That’s all Bentbone has for junk food, unless you count all the touristy ice cream parlors.”
I let out a giggle. “No, I meant some other time. My taste buds are set on a juicy steak tonight.”
He laughed and proceeded straight. “For a minute, I thought you’d be a cheap date. But I should’ve known there’s nothing simple about this relationship. Dating a girl tangled with a black magic banshee. And, heck, I even had to scrounge up present-day clothes. The jeans are new.” He let go of my hand to rub the denim covering one knee and glanced my way with raised brows, as if measuring the impact of his words.
“Hmpf. It does you good to get out of those suits once in a while.”
“And fighting off a banshee to save the fair maiden only strengthens my magic.”
I turned sideways in the seat. “I’m the one destined to fight the banshee. And I don’t need saving.”
He clasped my hand again. “You’re definitely capable. I just want to be there to help, in case…in case someone thinks I’m not doing my job as high priest.”
I didn’t believe the reason he stated and threaded my fingers deeper between his. “I’m glad you’re protecting me. And I might need your help more than you think.”
Logan drove into a large lot next to a red-brick, single-story building with wide picture windows on two sides lit with neon signs. The one beside the parking lot door glared “Dale’s” in fluorescent orange. Once parked, Logan gathered a short black leather jacket from the backseat and pulled it on. He offered me his arm and escorted me to the entry, past a line of waiting diners.
Inside, a tight-lipped hostess with steel gray hair piled on her head gave us a hard look. “Two?”
“Yes, with reservations under the name Logan Dennehy.” He returned her standoffishness with a dimpled smile that couldn’t help but convince any woman to do his bidding.
The matron snatched two menus. “This way.”
Logan motioned me to follow the woman’s clipped gait, and I sat at the indicated table for two in the middle of a large, busy dining area. Newly remodeled, dark hardwood planked the floor. I sank into a cushy burgundy leather-like chair, my messenger bag close by my feet. Walls covered with old Bentbone memorabilia and framed newspaper articles grounded the restaurant with a long history. And rich smells of grilled beef told me the family had perfected their cooking skills here over decades.
“Jennifer will be your server,” the hostess snapped, plunked the menus on the table, then pivoted and marched back to her post.
With a wide smile and swinging cow earrings, a woman with bleached blond hair graying at the roots set water glasses on our table.
I muffled a laugh at the contrast between the two women.
“Hello, folks. I’m Jennifer and I’m happy to be your server tonight.” She gave Logan the once-over. “I have to tell you, when I saw your name on the reservation list, I was flat-out curious what the new coven leader would look like.”
“I hope all the gossip’s been good.” Logan shot her a twisted grin.
“Depends on who’s doin’ the talkin’.” The waitress lowered her voice. “Unlike some ’round here, I think witchcraft’s fascinatin’. Dale’s cousin Doris, the hostess, don’t like to cater to witches, but I think we’re blessed to have such all-knowing folks on our doorstep.”
“Thanks for your kind words, Jennifer. I appreciate the support.”
She rattled off an animated and editorialized version of the nightly specials. “I’ll give you two a few minutes to think over the menu.”
After she left, Logan leaned across the table. “That’s nice for a change.”
“Are most people like Doris?” I glanced to the entry where the hostess stood as rigid as the podium in front of her.
“No. Not so much. Most just keep some distance, which is fine. At least that shows some respect.”
“Or stay away fearing they’ll be turned into toads.” I laughed but remembered how Eric’s friends treated me like a freak, although Eric hadn’t. People reacted to witches in different ways. Back in New Wish, the locals were nearly as odd and eccentric as us so we didn’t have these issues.
Our laughter faded as we settled into studying the menus. My mouth watered more with each entrée I read. At Logan’s recommendation, I decided on the filet. A few minutes later, Jennifer returned and took our orders.
While we waited for our food, Logan pulled a palm-size bundle wrapped in black cotton from his jacket pocket and uncovered a long amethyst crystal that ended in a hexagonal point. “You wanted to know more about pendulum magic.” The pointed gem hung two inches below a silver chain.
My eyes widened and I scanned the room. “I do, but is it safe to have that out here?”
He closed his palm around the crystal. “I’ll be careful. Besides, Jennifer might get a kick out of it.”
“I didn’t get to see it.” I held out a hand, and he secreted the amethyst from his palm to mine. I guarded it from view with my other hand while I examined the gem. Lavender inclusions blossomed from the apex. I glanced at him. “This isn’t the one you showed me at the cemetery.”
“I have several pendulums. The one I had the other day is for general readings, what I carry all the time. This amethyst I use to sharpen my psychic sense. It works great and is special to me because it belonged to Skena Stoddard. She’s one of the elderly witches I visit regularly to help with household chores.” A dimpled grin crossed his face, and his irises lightened to a clear sky blue. “An amazing ninety-five-year-old lady who knows more magic, both black and white, than I’ll ever master. She teaches me in return for favors of household magic her clouded mind has forgotten. This was her yule gift to me last winter.”
I rolled the gem over in my cupped palm. “It’s lovely. These inclusions look like flowers. Does that mean anything?”
“If there is a strong energy connection, they spread upward and to specific facets. According to Skena, that propels the pendulum’s movement.”
I studied the inclusions. In response, tendrils cut toward the side facing me, their terminal buds bursting into tiny violet asters and rich purple mums until the entire surface glowed. “Oh! Look!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice to not draw attention as I showed him the amethyst.
“Cool. You have an affinity with that crystal’s magic. I’m even more anxious now to see if it can answer some of your questions.”
The internal stems bent in my direction to another facet. Their action made me recall another reason witches used amethyst. I sneaked a glance at Logan, long enough to fall into the depths of his blue pools and looked away as pleasant tingles wound through me, around my heart and breasts, as if vines grew from the gem into my body. Overwhelmed by the wonderful sensation and too afraid to lock eyes for fear he’d see my innermost thoughts, I moistened my lips and whispered, “Or since amethyst is also used by men to help them attract women, maybe it’s just reacting to you.” The words said, I man
aged to steal another look his way.
This time, he cast his eyes down, but his tempting grin remained. “Well…yeah. From frequent use, the crystal does react quickly to my powers. It knows how I feel about you.” He shot me a questioning look.
I did my best to reassure him with a smile.
He captured my gaze and continued. “But, I’m hoping its strong connection to you will help in other ways as well.”
I let the pendulum dangle from an inch of its chain. It circled in an oval pattern skewed toward me. “I haven’t even asked a question.”
“We probably need to clean off all the steamy energy we’ve been sending it.” He waggled his brows, and I laughed. “I usually skip that step since I’m the only one handling my crystals.”
“Will you look at that.” The waitress’ eyes bugged out as she lowered a tray from her shoulder to the table edge.
Her reaction shocked me back to the reality that we sat in a public restaurant. Through the crystal’s unique reaction revealing Logan’s passion, I’d lost all sense of anyone present around us.
Jennifer leaned down as she methodically distributed plates, her cow earrings quivering and voice hushed. “Those purple bits move. That’s some pretty magic. Best you hide that away though before Doris sees. She don’t take to witches’ doings. Has shown a few the door.”
Logan tucked the pendulum into his jacket pocket and winked at me. “Wouldn’t want to waste these steaks. They look great.”
“They sure do.” I could almost taste the salty, robust flavor steaming from the plate.
The waitress left us to our meal, and we dug in without any further talk about pendulum magic. The melt-in-your-mouth tenderness filled my mouth with subtle flavors. Buttery juice dribbled from one corner of my lips.
“That’s good steak.” Logan took a break to give his baked potato some attention.
Mouth full, I nodded.
When at last I reached the last succulent pink bites of filet, my thoughts drifted to the questions I wanted to ask the pendulum. And to how it’d responded based on Logan’s attraction to me. My pulse throbbed where my fingertips pressed against the fork. The intensity of the pendulum’s magic both excited and frightened me.
Too full for dessert, Logan paid the bill and we left. Outside, huge flakes of snow danced in the streetlights. “The first snow of the season,” I yelped, let one drift into my open hand, and brought it close for inspection. “Darn. Melted. I always want to be able to hold one long enough to see the lace patterns. My girlfriends back home could, those who weren’t sun witches like me.”
Logan pulled leather gloves from his pocket, put them on, then pursued the largest flakes.
I laughed. “People will think you’re drunk.”
“Drunk on love.” He presented his catch of half a dozen icy crystals glittering against the black leather.
“They’re beautiful.” I drew his hand closer.
“Like you.” When the snowflakes collapsed, he brushed his hands together, and draped an arm around my shoulder as he led me to his car.
I shivered in the cold sedan and folded my arms across my body.
Logan shot me a glance and laughed as he fired up the heater. “Come on. You’re a sun witch. Can’t you release that power to warm yourself up?”
“I wish it did work that way.”
Once we turned onto the road, he lifted an arm across the top of the seatback, his hand on my shoulder. “Snuggle in. This heater takes a while.”
I scooted against him, careful to keep my knees away from the shifter, and he wrapped his arm tight around me. “Won’t you have to shift?”
“You’re a driver now. You can do that job.”
I rested a tentative hand on the shifter and followed his directions to move it.
“I think we’ll go to my house to use the pendulum, if that’s okay?” Logan asked. “The unfamiliar energies in your homestead might throw off my crystal.”
“Probably a good idea.”
On the way to his house, we passed the cemetery. Bright light from the nearly full moon illuminated the grounds. A wave stirred through the quiet canopy of the distant tree line. Moments later, upper branches of the gate’s sentry maple whipped in circles. I held my breath and leaned forward to gain a better view. Statues inside motioned us to visit them with peaceful, languid waves. Confused by the mixed signals, I checked my beryl bracelet but found nothing other than a simmering glow, barely visible but enough to bring my sun energy to my skin.
A turning motion of the car diverted my attention to his house. The four guardian trees shone in the moonlight as if under spotlights. “Your trees, do they always do that?”
“Yep, during full moon times.” Logan removed his arm and parked between the house and garage. “My ma said it was to keep out any spirits who might wander from the cemetery on those nights. They were planted by the witch who first owned the place.”
“Smart move. Was the action around the cemetery, the trees and statues, normal for a coming full moon? Or should I be on alert for the banshee?”
“It looked pretty normal to me, but I wouldn’t let your guard down.” He opened his door and slid out.
I pulled my bag containing my wand into my lap and kept it close as we went inside. A plain cement stoop led to the back door, which opened onto a mudroom lit by a single bare bulb. A homemade rag rug formed a central walk path. On one wall, stood a bench with jackets hung above it on pegs, while tidy rows of Logan’s boots lined the other.
He motioned me to follow into the small kitchen. An apple green metal dinette on a frayed handmade braided rug filled one corner. Above it hung a bakelite plastic ceiling lamp I recognized as the same type my parents had. The few counters and sink were free of dishes and clean. Towels with crocheted edgings hung from the icebox and oven doors. Though modest and worn, the home showed care. Although my mother, like the rest of those in New Wish, favored handmade furnishings and repurposed antiques, she’d updated when things wore out. I remembered many items in Logan’s house from my childhood and from Gran’s. I smiled at the green jadeite breadbox, the same as Mom still used though with a fresh coat of paint. Logan’s upbringing comforted me, since mine hadn’t been so different. We had more in common than I thought.
From a battered knotty pine cabinet, he removed a canning jar of coarse salt to the counter. He sprinkled at least half a cup into a plastic storage container and added as much water from the tap before submerging the amethyst pendulum into the mixture. “This will remove any picked-up energies. While it soaks, let me review some basics. We’ll watch for patterns of the swing, whether straight lines in a certain direction or circular movements. This pendulum seldom circles, though it did tonight for you.”
I grinned. “All that passion might’ve confused it.”
“It makes my head spin, so why not?” He laughed. “Anyway, according to what Skena taught me, each person must establish their own directional swings before using a pendulum for readings. You’ll need to find out what certain responses look like by asking it directly what a ‘no’ looks like and so on. Other than that, you need to start thinking of your questions.”
“Already have those in mind.”
“Make sure they’re mostly yes or no, or at least closed questions.”
“Oh, that’s limiting.” I took a seat at the dinette and mentally checked and reworked my questions.
Logan turned aside, closed his eyes, and pressed his palms together.
Silence pressed on my ears. I hadn’t noticed before, but Logan’s house lacked something from other places I’d been in the coven: my homestead, Cerise and Toby’s house, Shireen’s dress shop, Vika’s herbal kitchen, even the Council’s gathering hall. It lacked sounds of house spirits. No creaks or twangs blended into the white noise I’d come to enjoy as one of the quaint charms of my homestead. The hum of other beings gave me comfort.
Logan’s family had been hedge witches whose magic was limited to healing people with herbal remedies
. They hadn’t gained enough skill at witchcraft for their souls to become empowered upon death. In a strange way, I felt sad for Logan living in this isolation. Although I’d grown up without the constant attention or annoyance of house spirits, I was overcome with the desire to fill Logan’s void. I wanted to be an end to his loneliness.
Minutes later, he roused from his meditation and used tongs to remove the pendulum from the cleansing bath. He dried it in a new piece of black cotton and joined me at the table. Holding the pendulum with the fabric, he handed it to me.
I accepted it by the chain and addressed the crystal. “Show me what a ‘no’ response looks like.”
The weight of the amethyst pulled against the chain in my fingers, as if doubled in force.
I checked Logan’s face, and he gestured for me to continue. I refocused on the pendulum, channeled my energy through my fingers into it.
The crystal responded. I sensed a burst of power upward through its chain, followed by a barely perceptible wiggle which increased into a slight swing. Toward me, then away.
Encouraged, I continued. “What will a ‘yes’ response look like?”
With only slight hesitation, the amethyst halted and gyrated into a new pattern that slowly accelerated into a right to left motion.
“And what will a neutral response look like?”
This time, the pendulum jiggled with wild confusion that expanded and flowed into a regular, oval sweep.
I swallowed hard and selected my first real question. “Will I challenge the banshee before Samhain?”
The stone flattened its orbit into a right-left swing. Good news as far as my role in ending the curse. I repositioned my seat and posed another question. “Will my wand help me battle the banshee?”
The pendulum swung higher in its right to left motion.
“Well, both of those are good to know.” I took a breath and spoke again to the crystal. “The questions only get harder.”
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