"Every newly Awakened witch is eager to test the limits of available magic and rarely do they manage without experiencing a few growing pains."
Salem's words calmed me down. "I can't wait to see that hag, Serena Swampgrass' face when she shows up for Beltane." The thought made me salivate and sent a shiver of anticipation up my spine. "All these years she's done nothing but berate me and now she's finally going to get what's coming to her."
"If you've moved on from distress to happy vengeance, can I broach the topic of food? You're not exactly generous with the table scraps, and while I enjoy Reese's Pieces, would it kill you to develop a taste for some salty snacks? I can finally eat like a human again, and I have some requests." I heard a rumble from low in Salem's belly and took the opportunity to enjoy a little alone time.
"You're allowed to leave the house, right?" Salem's look said duh, but how was I supposed to know the rules?
"My purse is in my bedroom. Grab some cash from my wallet and go get us some takeout. Whatever you want. I assume you know what I like. Order for me."
I swear his ears perked at the word "takeout" and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek before pulling the lever and letting himself into the parlor.
"Not all the cash from my purse, Salem! Salem?" Oh, whatever, let him have fun. After all, how long had it been since Salem had been able to go out in public on two legs? What trouble could he possibly get into? I ignored the half dozen scenarios, each one worse the last, that immediately popped into my head, grabbed the leather-bound Grimoire from its place of honor at the center of the pedestal, and settled into a cross-legged position, the book open on my lap.
This time, I noticed more pages filled with spells, but they were few and far between. It seemed I was only to be allowed access to the most rudimentary; those related to cleansing, anointing, and protection. An incantation for learning a basic glamour seemed about as active as I was allowed to get, and my hand immediately fluttered to my face where a tiny pimple had started to form on the tip of my nose. At least, I hoped it was a pimple and not a wart. Either way, if I could get the Balefire up and running I should at least be able to glamour a simple blemish from my face.
A few simple ingredients were all I needed, so I searched around for six pink candles, the biggest, darkest amethyst I could find, a sage smudging stick that looked more than a bit withered, and then grabbed a medium-sized cauldron from a collection stacked near the alchemy station.
Feeling lighter than I had in years, I bounced around, placing a pink candle at each of the five points of the carved pentacle. Then, I walked deosil, or clockwise, around the circle, lighting each candle while calling to its corresponding element in turn.
"Persephone, Rhea, Ceres; Goddesses of the North. Hear my call and lend me strength from the Earth." The candle flared and turned a deep shade of amber.
"Cardea, Aradia, Nuit; Goddesses of the East. Hear my call and lend me knowledge from the Air." A bright white flame appeared, followed by red and blue as I called the next two elements. "Vesta, Hestia, Brigit; Goddesses of the South. Hear my call and lend me energy from the Fire. Isis, Aphrodite, Marianne; Goddesses of the West. Hear my call and lend me wisdom from the Water."
A shower of sparks rained from the final candle as I spoke the words "Element of spirit, I call to you. God and Goddess unite; lend me your balance and bless me with your light. I invoke thee!" I returned to the center of the pentacle and lit the final candle--with a match because I wasn't taking any unnecessary chances. Each flame flared once more and burned bright, and I used the middle flame to light one end of the bundle of sage, the amethyst grasped tightly in my fist, and my mind set with the intention of clearing my skin. Keeping Salem's advice firmly in mind, I held back all but a trickle of the magic that flared in me and hoped it would be enough.
The sage burned at a much faster rate than I had expected, and the smoke billowed and grew dense around me, building and building until I couldn't see two inches in front of my face. I heard a loud banging noise and the fireplace rotating, and finally Salem's muttered expletive.
When the smoke cleared and I came face to face with my familiar, he burst into mocking laughter at the sight of my complexion.
"What? What happened?" Something didn't feel quite right.
"See for yourself." Salem passed me a hand mirror and I cringed instinctively when I held it up to my face. What I saw brought tears to my eyes, and not just because it looked like I had gotten the world's worst case of the chicken pox. And the mumps. And an allergic reaction, all at once. I'm Alexis Balefire, keeper of the flame, finally in control of my birthright. Well, control might be an overstatement, but I was still supposed to be an extremely powerful witch, and I was failing miserably at my first spells. "Tell me what you did."
I explained the actions I had taken during Salem's junk food run, holding back my frustration as he munched happily on a cheeseburger. "You probably don't want any of this, right?" Salem asked, pointing inside the fast food bag. "You know, greasy food and acne and all that..." I pierced him with my most withering stare.
"I did exactly what the book said to do." I wailed miserably.
Salem finally softened at my distress and wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. "Even if you hadn't, you shouldn't look like a teenager in the throes of a hormonal imbalance. This is certainly more blow-back than I've ever seen from such a simple spell." Salem frowned.
"I wonder if it has something to do with how late you connected to your magic, or maybe you're just putting too much into it. Overpowering the spell. Let me do some research; see what advice my comrades have to offer. Assuming they stop laughing at the length of time I've been reduced to a diet of kibble long enough to answer my questions. Don't worry, we'll sort it out. For now, maybe don't try anything too risky."
"Thanks, Salem. But what do I do in the meantime?" If I couldn't cast a reversal spell, then how was I supposed to fix this? No way was I going to work with pizza face.
Salem arched an eyebrow and nodded toward the rest of the sanctum. "I'm going to guide you through the process of making a magical balm that will clear that right up. It's not a glamour, but an herbal remedy. There's very little actual magic, and it's more passive than what you were doing before. You'll need to catch up on your potions and herbs. Most of what's in here is usable and like new; your grandmother was a whiz at preserving spells, I'll give her that. But eventually, you're going to need to replenish your supply of bases and catalysts."
I tuned out long before Salem finished reading me the riot act. Yes, I was hopelessly behind; yes, I had barely scratched the surface of my magical education; yes, I mucked up my first glamour and probably looked like a hopeless case, but at least I hadn't blown myself up. Yet. Salem's history as a familiar didn't exactly inspire a lot of confidence.
Chapter Fifteen
Kin's arms tightened around me as we swayed together; a soft, slow song with a lot of strings played in the background. I felt warm and safe and cherished surrounded by him and a cloud of white. I curled my fingers in his hair to pull his head down, to claim his warm lips with my own. They tasted like wedding cake and champagne.
On a sigh, I slid deeper into the kiss. Tangled tongues set my heart racing, turned my knees to jelly, and made me crave more as I pressed closer, ever closer to the heat and warmth of him.
The sound of my text message alert broke the kiss. Who on earth would be texting me at a time like this?
I came out of the dream with a startled jerk and my phone beeped again. And again and again.
Reaching for the phone, I discovered Salem snuggled up against my back. In human form and gloriously naked, no less. I slammed my eyes closed to keep from seeing anything I really didn't want to see and groped for the beeping device. We were going to have to talk about the ground rules.
Two taps silenced the noise but not the vibrations. Someone really wanted my attention and I really wanted to go back to sleep. The debate still raged within me when Salem nuzzled his h
ead against my arm and started to purr. That launched me out of bed faster than a five alarm faerie fight.
Rules. There were totally going to be rules.
My messaging app informed me that twenty-seven messages from Harry Tart had come in starting from the afternoon before, and several from Flix as well. My calendar app notified me that I had also missed two meetings. Annoying. Can't a girl have a day or two off when life gets weird?
Nothing good could come of reading my messages before I'd at least had some coffee. No one sends twenty-seven messages when things are going well, so I knew my day was already headed south.
Half expecting more chaos, I was happily surprised to hear the pleasant sound of harmonizing voices when I opened the door. Pausing for a moment to listen, I had to smile. If the faeries felt calm enough to sing, there was a good chance there would be pancakes waiting for me downstairs. With blueberries and maple syrup. Harry could wait another half hour. Unless there were waffles, and then he could wait even longer.
***
Flix poked his head out of the back room as soon as the door closed behind me.
"There's a Harry Tart looking for you."
I pressed my lips together hard to keep from laughing at Flix when he was in one of his moods, but the way he said Harry's name was hard to ignore. He gave me a long look and pointed to a sea of sticky notes covering the Biedermeier fruitwood sofa table that doubled as my desk.
"I am not an answering service." Putting some extra force into his flounce, Flix turned his back on me and left the room by way of the connecting door. Plenty of past experience had taught me to recognize when he was in enough of a snit to want to be left alone. As much as I wanted to follow him and make things right, letting him brood it out was the better plan.
The worst part of working with a temperamental genius who was also my best friend was when he had a valid reason for being mad at me. My going AWOL for a couple days worried him. I made a mental note to pick up a pint of his favorite ice cream and stash it in the fridge out back as an apology.
In the meantime, I might as well survey the damage. Today was the first day I could honestly say I didn't love my job. Starting with the top left corner, I worked at deciphering the notes Flix had left for me. Slashed in his distinct handwriting, the first few missives were terse and to the point.
Call Harry Tart.
Mona Katz: Still on for Thursday?
Call Harry Tart.
Call Harry Tart.
Tom says thank you.
For the love of Danu, call Harry Tart.
Harry Tart will die if you don't call him.
If you don't call him soon, I will kill Harry Tart myself.
Harry Tart is a hairy tart.
Who wants a tart with hair anyway?
Screw you, you disappearing bint. I gave Harry Tart your private number.
Well, that explained the twenty-seven texts. I use an answering service that forwards all my calls to my private number when I'm out working in the field and gets turned off when I need a break.
That Flix had appointments on a day I wasn't in the office, and more, that he broke a cardinal rule about giving out my cell number to Harry spoke volumes about how worried he had been. The ice cream wasn't going to be enough. I sighed. I'd probably have to let him dye my hair or something.
Another frantic text from Harry rounded the number up to thirty and when I glanced at the message, I saw he had written in all capital letters. I'M FREAKING OUT. WHERE ARE YOU?
Instant headache.
Picking up my phone, I made the dreaded call. Harry answered before the end of the first ring.
"Lexi. Where have you been? I don't know what to do. You have to help me."
I'm not proud of it, but I snapped for a minute.
"Why do I have to help? There's no warranty on what I do. I put people together, but the rest is up to them. Happily ever after isn't a given, it takes work. You are the ones in charge of your future, not me." As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them. The choked sound from the other end of the line only made it worse.
"I'm sorry, Harry. Of course, I'll help you. Tell me what's happening."
"A tattoo. Lemon got a tattoo." He made it sound like getting a tattoo was the next best thing to being caught cheating.
"Okay. Lots of women get tattoos, it's a popular form of self-expression. Some men find them sexy. I take it you're not one of them?"
"I'm not that narrow-minded, Lexi. Give me a little credit." At least the whiny pitch was gone from his voice. Maybe the key to helping Harry was to bring out the pissed off side of him a little more often. "She got...a guitar." His voice lowered at the end to make the word guitar sound ominous. I didn't get it.
"Work with me here, Harry, because I'm not getting the problem. So Lemon likes music. What's the big deal?" A frustrated sigh came through the connection loud and clear.
"It's that guy. You know. The one that plays at that club."
"What guy at which club? I need more information." I suspected I knew the answer already and it was one I really didn't want him to confirm.
"The guy with the weird name. Mackinaw or something."
"Mackintosh Clark?" A stone dropped into the pit of my stomach and splashed acid up like a fountain. "Plays at Driven on Wednesday nights?"
"Yes. That's the one. It's not just Wednesdays anymore. He's there three nights a week now, and so is Lemon. I'm losing her and I don't even know how it happened. It's like she has some kind of fever or something. Everything changed so fast."
I did the best I could to get him calmed down and resolved to have a conversation with Lemon as soon as possible. The rest of my day would be spent playing catch up and placating Flix over his sense of abandonment. My gut told me there was nothing fundamentally wrong with Lemon and Harry, but I wasn't sure if given the current circumstances, I should trust my instincts. They could be as wonky as everything else in my life right now.
***
I'm a witch, right? Shouldn't that make my life easier instead of harder? I should be able to cast a spell that would fix all my problems so I could float along on a pink cloud eating bonbons and ice cream.
Too over the top? Probably, but shouldn't there be a few perks? So far the experience of coming into my majority as a witch had been anticlimactic.
Not only had nothing changed for the better, certain areas of my life had gotten worse.
With nothing better to do on my walk home, I set my feet on autopilot and pondered the events of the last couple weeks.
The detente with the godmothers had been too easily achieved for me to rate the experience as a success. There was a Jimmy Choo hanging over my head just itching to drop on that score. I'd bet everything I had on it. One day of pancakes and platitudes did not a pattern make. Trust me, I've been there before.
Vaeta's reappearance upset the balance in ways that caused alliances between the four sisters to form and reform over the past few months. My life had morphed into that of an extra on the set of a faerie version of a reality TV episode. Whispers and promises flowed like the silken threads of a spiderweb and were just as sticky and just as easily torn away. Even the simplest questions seemed fraught with subtext that changed levels so fast it made my head spin to try and follow along.
I also noticed their roles were changing. Terra, the most affectionate of the three, had always seemed the most motherly to me and sometimes to her sisters--whether they needed mothering or not. She was the one I ran to when I fell off my bike, the one who baked my birthday cakes, the one who taught me how to handle the changes in my body as I grew into a woman. For motivation, I turned to Soleil--the sun, the maker of light, the restless champion of justice, Soleil was a creature of passion.
And finally, there was Evian with the strength and relentlessness of an ocean wave. She gave me the gift of logic. She taught me that when things went south, sometimes it was best to just chill.
Every single one of their strengths, though, went poof when the
sisters found something to fight about. Terra still maintains it was a dream, but I distinctly remember being turned into a mouse one time when I got into the middle of one of their tantrums. My family, in all their dysfunctional glory.
The memory put a half smile on my face that fell right back off when I realized I'd taken a wrong turn and ended up right in front of Athena's Attic.
Or not, actually. The place was closed. Not just for the day, but gone. Like it never existed.
Confused, I cupped my hands around my eyes to shut out the glare of the setting sun and pressed them to the window to peer inside. From what I could see, the place was barren and dusty--way too dusty to have been the home of a thriving business just days before. A wave of regret washed over me and I understood that I had come here to beg Athena to give me some guidance regarding what my next step should be. With her gone, it looked like I was on my own. Again.
Chapter Sixteen
"Don't you recognize me?" I looked up from my barely picked at chicken Caesar salad, noticing Mona Katz for the first time. I tried to cover my surprise with a wide smile, but I saw her stifle a giggle. "Bad day?"
"Oh, you have no idea." Absolutely none. If my professional life wasn't in enough of a shambles already, I had spent the entire morning attempting to locate a new client's soul mate--whose energy or essence or whatever it was I tapped into--had been clicking on and off of my radar like a strobe light. Not a normal situation for Lexi Balefire: Magical Matchmaker. Getting my magic hadn't been all that useful. Ever heard the saying be careful what you wish for? Well, they ain't lying.
"Can I sit? If you're meeting someone I can come back later."
When I first met Mona, I had known exactly where the man of her dreams was located. Since then, the feeling compelling me toward him had lessened, and now the shrapnel from my new powers was confounding the one thing that had never steered me wrong before. I was beginning to wonder if I had finally tapped into my full potential but just wasn't smart enough to work the controls.
A Match Made in Spell (Fate Weaver Book 1) Page 11