by Ashlyn Chase
She then lit the silver and gold candles and rang a crystal bell three times.
“I ask the universe for protection, both physical and spiritual. I ask you, Mother, to empower our offering of protection.” She lifted a bottle of gray liquid toward the ceiling. “So mote it be.”
She drew up a small amount of the potion and walked around the circle, placing a drop on each witch’s wrist. Every time, she repeated, “I anoint you with this potion to protect you from all negative energies which may come to do us harm. So mote it be.”
Hanna raised her Athame over her head and called out, “Goddess, strike this blade with light.”
Bright white light glinted off the double-sided knife.
She dunked the tip of the Athame in the goblet of wine, stirred and said, “As the sword to the grail, so the Athame to the chalice. The waters of life.”
Each member took a sip from the goblet and passed it to the next witch.
Hanna waited until the chalice returned, then placed it back on the altar and continued. “Tonight, we come to you in ritual and ask the Goddess to assist us in our spells and intentions. We ask that our journey with the craft be always insightful and correct. We ask that our powers develop as we can accept them and that magic fills our lives. We ask for confidence and knowledge that our spells are always invoked for the good. So mote it be.”
Hanna closed her eyes and spent a moment in silent reflection. Some of them followed her example with eyes closed and others waited patiently with their eyes open.
“At this time, we will read our spells and burn them, then visualize their successful outcome. Does anyone have pre-written intentions?”
Rebecca raised her hand, as did a few others. Hanna nodded to her and she stepped forward.
“May the Goddess hear,
“May the Goddess see,
“How much my business means to me,
“And bring paying customers 1,2,3,
“To The Bewitching Bakery.
“For the Good of all, so mote it be.”
Rebecca hoped this spell would save her bakery. Her father had been bugging her about paying him back, even though before making the loan he’d said not to worry about the timeline. She should have made him put that in writing. Now the Goddess was her only hope. She knew it wasn’t exactly a ‘love spell,’ but fortunately loose interpretations were allowed.
She purposely tried to refocus on the positive and stepped up to the small cauldron on the altar. She folded her parchment, passed it through the incense smoke, then touched it to the candle flames. As soon as it caught, she dropped it into the cauldron. The candles blazed higher growing to about four inch flames. Yay, I’ve been heard.
Retaking her place, she closed her eyes and visualized customers walking in the door of her beloved bakery, all with cash in their hands.
Traditional love spells followed. Yvonne and Myranda just reaffirmed their love for their husbands and their store.
Ethan/Aubrey wanted to find easygoing women to spend some quality time with. She would have wondered about the plural wording, except that she knew he wasn’t interested in settling down.
Cassandra/Celestia asked for the man in her life to finally move in or move on if he was never going to commit.
Isabelle/Isis asked for a like-minded individual to spend some spare time with.
Brigit/Brigid prayed for a baby to love.
Abigail/Ariel asked for the brats she took care of to be a little more loveable. Why she ever became an Au Pair, Rebecca couldn’t imagine.
The others just asked for a generic more loving world. Apparently Keith/Raven, and Lana/Luna, were content. Hazel/Hanna rarely asked for anything. Either her life was perfect…and since she had been doing this a long time, it might be…or she was casting her spells in private.
Finally, Michele stepped forward with a bottle of red liquid. “If everyone is finished with the love spells, I’d like to cast a protection spell for myself.”
Hanna nodded.
Michelle placed the small, wide mouth bottle on the altar and added a couple of ingredients. Then she lifted it to the heavens and said, “Pins, needles, rosemary, wine…In this witch’s bottle of mine. Guard against harm and enemy. This is my will, so mote it be.”
She corked the bottle and picked up one of the red candles blazing on the altar. Holding both the candle and bottle sideways, she used the hot wax to seal the cork. Then she set everything on the edge of the crowded altar and returned to her place.
Hanna strolled around the altar ready to thank the Goddess and open the circle. As she turned the corner, her ample hip bumped the altar and a few lit tapers toppled. Three of them landed on the plate of rum cakes and to Rebecca’s horror they ignited.
A dramatic blaze shot up over a foot high. Before anyone could react, Dru shouted, “Stand back.”
He bounded through the circle with the fire extinguisher. Rebecca remembered seeing it on a wall in the kitchen, but never thought much about it.
Hannah yelled, “Stop,” but it was too late. Dru had already pulled the pin and was spraying the altar with foamy chemicals. The witches in range gasped and jumped backward to avoid his sweep.
When the extinguisher was empty, Dru placed it on the floor. He set his hands on his hips and faced Rebecca.
“Bake cupcakes from now on, darlin’. Cupcakes.”
“My life is a blooper reel,” Rebecca said and let out a long sigh.
Dru noticed the high priestess was pinching the bridge of her nose. I just had to spring into action, grab a fire extinguisher and spray the sacred altar with loads of oxygen starving chemicals. Now I’m in big trouble. Great. Just great.
Cassandra chuckled. “I’d say Rebecca’s rum cakes must not have baked off all the alcohol.”
Rebecca offered an apologetic smile and shrugged. “I thought adding another layer of dark rum would make them moist and tasty.”
Hanna’s frown relaxed, became more resigned, and she sighed. “Apparently a love spell involving thirteen lit tapers on the altar right next to thirteen alcohol soaked rum cakes was a bad idea. One bump of my pudgy hip and that’s all she wrote.”
“You’re not pudgy. You’re purty,” Dru was quick to add, hoping he could salvage his tentative place with some Texas charm.
Hanna rolled her eyes.
“Does this mean our love spells went up in smoke?” Brigid asked.
Ethan chuckled. “Either that or our lovers will be hot Latinos with passionate dispositions.”
I sure as hell don’t know what it means, but I have the feeling I’m out on the sidewalk.
“I guess we’ll find out when the Goddess responds,” Hanna said. “That could take a while for our Capricorns, but call me if you experience any unusual consequences before the next full moon. Geminis might notice effects right away.” She focused on Cassandra, who groaned.
What does astrology have to do with anything? Dru wondered. He leaned toward Rebecca and whispered, “Why do Geminis, like me, have to watch out first?”
“Geminis are ruled by the planet Mercury. It travels around the sun quickly,” she said. “Capricorns are ruled by Saturn, which travels very slowly.”
“What’s your sign and ruling planet?” he asked, hoping it didn’t sound like a pick-up line.
“Aquarius. Ruled by Neptune. Not terribly fast or slow.”
“So, what do we do now?” Someone from behind Dru interrupted. He wasn’t sure if it was Myranda or her shop assistant Yvonne.
“I think we should apologize to the Goddess for desecrating the altar and close the circle,” Hanna said.
“But Dru broke the circle when he ran into it,” Keith protested.
“Nevertheless, we need to thank the spirits for attending and release them. That means we should cast it again, then close it properly. Remember what happened to Luna when she didn’t.”
“Hey, I was a newbie then. What did I know?”
“You knew what the Internet taught you,” Isabelle said
.
“And that’s why we learn from older sources and other witches. Trusted texts and oral tradition,” Hanna added.
Rebecca cocked her head. “I don’t think I heard that story. What happened?”
Luna sighed. “Some trapped spirit followed me around for a couple years. It was benevolent, thank goodness, but I couldn’t help being a little freaked out seeing a dark shape in the back seat when I looked in my rear-view mirror.”
“Yikes,” Dru said. “What did you do then?”
“I joined the coven. The Coven of the Triquetra taught me that I needed to recast the circle and close it properly, releasing all spirits.”
Rebecca elbowed Dru. “Now, aren’t you glad you joined such a smart and eclectic group of witches?”
Hanna held up one hand. “Priests and Priestesses, before we go off on tangents, we need to do exactly that. Recast and close the circle. Let’s reassemble.”
A few sighs followed, but all thirteen witches regrouped around the altar. Suddenly Michele cried out. “Oh, my Goddess!” Her witch’s bottle must have blown off when the spray hit the altar. She picked it up off the floor. The rug, now red and damp, looked like someone had bled on it. She burst into tears.
Hanna grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be all right. We’ll cast another circle and surround you with the protection of the group.”
“The group can’t protect me. No one can. I’m leaving the area…tonight. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Where are you going?” Yvonne asked.
“I can’t tell anyone—and don’t look for me.”
After the circle had been recast and closed, the ritual ended. Rebecca hung back and handed Dru her business card. It said: Bewitching Bakery, Rebecca Colby, owner and baker. Plus her phone number. Well, all right!
“Stop by the bakery sometime.”
“Thank you, kindly. I’ll definitely do that.” He winked.
Rebecca grinned and he realized she had adorable dimples. Her teeth were pearly white, and her lips appeared to be naturally dark pink. He hoped to see that grin more often…and maybe to taste those lips someday. Texas gals wore lipstick, and he liked the idea of tasting Rebecca’s mouth, not her lipstick.
Hanna had started wiping each of the items on the altar and placing them carefully in a trunk.
Time to pay the piper. “Miss Hanna, I apologize for desecrating your altar like that. Leave the cleanin’ to me.”
She let out a sigh. “I’m the only one who can touch some of these pieces, but you can get that wine stain off the rug before it sets.”
“Good idea.” He jogged to the kitchen, found a dishcloth and soaped it up. He returned with a bowl of clean water in one hand, the rag in the other and went to work on the stain.
“I imagine you’re gonna kick me out after this,” he said.
Hanna stopped what she was doing. “Why would you say that?”
“Well…” he stopped just long enough to wave his hand over the mess. The foam had dissipated, but the chemicals still drip, drip, dripped off the high table and onto the carpet.
She smiled. “You may have saved our meeting place, if not my job.”
“Your job?”
“I’m the concierge at this hotel.”
“Ah. That’s probably why you can afford a room this nice.”
She nodded. “It’s one of the perks. At any rate, I owe you a debt of gratitude.” She went back to wiping and packing her tools of the trade.
He raised his eyebrows. “So, I’m not being kicked out?”
“Not unless you plan to spray the altar with the fire extinguisher for no reason.”
He chuckled. “No, ma’am. I’d never do that. I know enough to realize how important the altar is to y’all.”
She cocked her head. “You haven’t been a witch very long, have you?”
“Uh…no. Does it show that much?”
She smiled that Cheshire cat grin which looked like she was enjoying some kind of inside joke. He didn’t want to be a joke, but he never imagined there was so much to learn,
“Maybe you can take some of Myranda’s classes. I think there’s one for beginners coming up soon.”
“I’ll be glad to look into that. Is it very expensive?” He had plenty of money set aside, but he needed that to search for Shasta and to have in reserve in case she needed medical attention. If his search took years, so be it. But to guarantee his ability to continue, he had to conserve his resources.
“I’m not sure what they charge now. You’ll probably get a discount because you’re part of their coven.”
He recognized an opportunity to get one of his important questions answered. “Are there other covens in town?”
“Just a couple that I know of. A few years ago some of the Cabot trained witches took sides in a big brouhaha down in Salem, Mass. They split off and formed more of an eclectic group. There was a ripple effect in the area…Portsmouth included.”
“I get it. So do you know anything about the other covens? Where they meet and stuff?”
Her brows drew together. “I occasionally run into one of the members at Myranda’s shop, and we’re cordial to one another, but we don’t talk about coven business. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. Just curious is all.” Better watch it, Dru. If you appear too interested in other covens, she might think you’re not serious about this one.
The rug looked pretty clean in the area of the wine stain and his bowl of water had turned pink. Besides, it was time to change the subject. “I’ll get some more water and finish up the rest of the rug. Is it all right for me to move the altar?”
“You don’t have to clean the whole carpet. I’ll have housekeeping do that tomorrow.”
“Okay. Is there anything else I can do?”
She leaned over to inspect his work. “No. You got the stain up, and that’s what I was most worried about. I think everything else will be fine.” She smiled. “You’re a good man, Dru Tanner. I’ll see you on the next full moon.”
“I look forward to it, Miss Hanna.”
As he opened the door, he realized he’d never given her his last name. He glanced over his shoulder at her. There was that sly smile again.
How did she know my full name…and what else does she know about me?
He was about to ask her when she turned her back to him. Snapping her fingers twice, the altar and the trunk both disappeared.
Dru jolted. He stepped out, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could, then jogged to the elevator, which seemed to be waiting for him. As soon as the doors closed, he sagged against the wall and let out a deep breath. Had she known he was still there? Still watching? Did she want him to see what she could do? If so, why?
Rebecca had been tempted to just hit the snooze button and roll over that morning, but the breakfast crowd was the best of the day. So here she was, baking bread and bear claws before six a.m.
Why can’t people get their pastries the day before they need them? Then they’d be all ready for breakfast. Even as she thought it, she knew the answer. Everything was better freshly baked.
She slid another tray of raw pastry into the industrial-sized oven and set the timer. Checking her coffee maker, she found it had finished percolating. They liked that fresh too. She chastised herself out loud. “Oh quit complaining. You’d want the same thing.”
Her passion for the bakery had definitely waned. But that was mostly due to her financial anxiety. Why didn’t she get some kind of reasonable payment timeline in writing? She mentally kicked herself for the umpteenth time.
She had tried to be frugal. Her equipment might be old, but it worked just fine. If business was thriving, she’d invest in one of those coffee makers that brewed one cup at a time. A few of the Market Square establishments had that set-up. At least she wouldn’t have to keep refilling the large insulated urns when someone complained they were getting low.
As she entered the main area with the coffee, she noticed someone out
side, leaning against the wall. She couldn’t see much of him. Just a pair of jeans and plaid shirt. When he bent his knee to rest his boot against the rock foundation, she noticed the pointed tip. Cowboy boots.
She crept closer, hoping it might be a handsome witch with a Texas twang. If so, she’d let him in early. He turned his head and under the brim of a cowboy hat, sure enough, it was Dru. She was happy to see him. Maybe he was an early riser, like she was.
She turned the dead bolt on the front door and poked her head outside. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey, yourself.” He favored her with his one hundred watt grin. “Are you open?”
“Not yet, but you can come in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She waved him in. “Hurry, before anyone else comes by.”
He strode to the door and slipped around it like a cat burglar. She locked it behind him.
If anything, he was even handsomer than she remembered. His facial features were chiseled with angles and planes that created a handsome face with a masculine edge. A hint of stubble on his jaw added to his sex appeal.
They stood there just admiring each other for a long moment. Before it became too uncomfortable, she snapped back to reality. As if he had been mesmerized too, he quickly removed his cowboy hat.
“I have to keep an eye on some stuff in the back. Want to grab a cup of coffee and keep me company?”
“I’d love that,” he said.
She hurried to the kitchen and let out a long Whew... Why does he have such an effect on me? She mentally snorted. Three guesses and the first two don’t count.
He joined her momentarily and she pointed to a tiny round table and two chairs against the wall. “Have a seat. Want a bear claw?”
“As long as it’s not attached to the bear,” he said, grinning.
Damn. That cute cowboy charm will be the death of me.
“Well, I’ll see what I can do about that. They’ll be coming out of the oven in just a few minutes.” She wiped her suddenly damp hands on her apron. “I need to mix up some muffins.”