Jinxed (Coven Corner #1)

by Charlotte French

  Aiden nodded and headed behind the counter where large Mason jars were lined up on shelves, filled with dried and powdered ingredients. Sky rubbed at her forehead with a grimace. She knew this wouldn’t go well but it was even worse to have it come true right before her eyes.

  Aiden measured out the dried pennyroyal into a black cloth bag, tied it with a glittery ribbon and placed it on the counter beside the candles. He rang up her total and Sky took refuge in the depths of her purse as she retrieved her wallet. It was easier to think as long as she wasn’t looking at him.

  Sky finally found her wallet and as she drew it out, her elbow bumped against the display case next to the register. Three small round bottles went rolling across the counter. One got caught on the edge of the case. The other bumped against the candles.

  And the third bottle went rolling straight for the edge of the counter.

  Sky dropped her wallet and scrambled to catch it at the same time Aiden reached for it. Her hand closed around the bottle first. His hand came to rest atop hers.

  The cork slipped out and pink potion splashed all over the sleeve of Aiden’s turtleneck, sending up a cloud of rose perfume.

  Roses.

  Roses for…

  Love. Passion. Romance.

  The tingle of magic sparked at the tips of Sky’s fingers. Barely there. But warm all the same. Slowly, as if she was moving in a dream, she lifted the bottle to look at the dusky red label that arched across the curved glass.

  LOVE POTION.

  “Sweet Nicniven, this can’t be happening,” Sky whispered.

  The comforting scent of cloves, cinnamon, and vanilla she had smelled upon her arrival at Spellbound now mingled with the scent of roses. It was too much, too thick and cloying.

  Sky’s head spun and she placed a hand against the counter to steady herself. Aiden reached out, fingers cupped to her elbow.

  “Are you all right?” he said.

  The smooth timbre of his voice snapped Sky from her horrified state of shock and she raised her gaze to Aiden’s face.

  The last remnants of her magic cooled, leaving her skin chilled, goosebumps rippling up her arms and along her shoulders. The spell was locked in place even though she hadn’t meant to cast it. When she’d seen the bottle start to fall, she’d simply conjured the spell to stop the bottle, to mop up the potion.

  She could feel the crisp crackle of energy lingering in the air as the spell settled over Aiden. It wasn’t a particularly large spell, by no means impressive or strong.

  But one look in Aiden’s eyes was enough to confirm Sky’s fears. The damage was done.

  Aiden’s pupils dilated, the corner of his mouth tipped up. And his hand was still on her elbow. Any other person she had just met would have released their grip on her arm long ago. But Aiden settled his thumb in the crook of her elbow, waiting for verbal confirmation that she was fine.

  Sky couldn’t bring herself to speak.

  She had cast a spell. A love spell. Over none other than Aiden Hall, a handsome, powerful warlock from New York City.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “What have I done?” she whispered.

  “I beg your pardon?” Aiden said.

  “Nothing,” Sky rushed to reassure him with a too-bright false smile. “It’s just…I think I left the stove on. I should go. Thank you for the Mabon gift.”

  She gathered up her things as fast as she could and as she turned away from the counter, she coughed a counter-spell behind her hand.

  Sky risked a glance over her shoulder to see Aiden still watching her. There was no change to his expression. The spell remained firmly in place.

  Sky spun back towards the door.

  “Hell’s bells,” she muttered. “I can barely conjure a dozen spells during the course of a year but I suddenly managed to whip one out at the worst possible moment. How am I going to undo this?”

  She didn’t even know which love spell she had cast. There were dozens of them to choose from. Some of them created nothing more than heartsickness like a crush. Others were more long-lasting and in-depth, carving out such a potent attraction that it never really faded or went away.

  Sky had hardly a second of warning as the door clicked open before her. She skidded to a stop as another customer entered the shop.

  Bianca Lovett.

  She was tall and lithe with silver-blonde hair hanging in loose curls down to her waist. She wore a short black miniskirt, lace stockings and knee-high boots that seemed to make her long legs appear even longer, if that was possible.

  Bianca taught dance classes at Spritely Spriggans Studio. And it was no surprise that her specialty was ballet.

  “Merry meet, Aiden,” Bianca said, breezing past Sky.

  She leaned over the counter to kiss Aiden on one cheek, then the other. Sky remained motionless, watching them. She knew better than to stare. But it was impossible not to.

  Aiden and Bianca.

  There couldn’t be a more perfect match than that. Sky could imagine them, arm in arm, strolling down the sidewalks of New York City, dining at the finest restaurants, seeing plays together and wearing the smoothest, flawless black that never stained or wrinkled.

  Sky clutched the candles and the pennyroyal closer. The scent of roses was still stifling and she couldn’t wait to get a lungful of fresh air.

  Aiden wasn’t looking at Bianca. He had barely acknowledged her when she stepped into the shop, despite how familiar she seemed to be with him.

  He was looking at Sky.

  She fled, the bell above the door jangling as she practically ran into the growing darkness of the night.

  ***

  Sky didn’t sleep all night long. She tossed and turned. She ransacked her little library of magic texts until her kitchen table was covered with spell books. But she couldn’t conjure that same spark of love that she had felt at her fingertips when the potion had spilled all over Aiden. And if she couldn’t replicate the spell, she couldn’t break it either.

  Finally, Sky pulled on her jacket, shoved her feet into a pair of plaid rubber boots, and stomped out the door.

  Windywings was on lunch break by the time Sky showed up. Children darted around the playground, climbing trees, tapping their wands experimentally at bugs that had slowed in the frost as they attempted to change the insects into something more interesting, like candy.

  Hazel Aven was sitting at a table at the edge of the playground. A cup of hot chocolate was next to her elbow, curls of steam wafting into the air. She leaned over a stack of papers with her wand, correcting in red rune marks, praising in jewel blue runes.

  “I made a terrible mistake,” Sky said, not bothering with preamble.

  Hazel raised her head, cool and calm as always. She set aside her wand and picked up her hot chocolate, curving her hands around the warmth of the mug.

  Her chestnut brown hair was tied back in a neat French twist and her wine red lipstick was perfectly unsmudged. She looked like a woman who had her life together, who knew how to fix any problem that came her way. Sky let out a low breath of relief just at the sight of Hazel.

  It’s going to be okay, Sky thought. If anyone knew what to do, it would be Hazel.

  “I’m listening,” Hazel said.

  “I cast a love spell,” Sky said. She put up her hands and rushed to add, “By accident, I swear.”

  Hazel didn’t even flinch, as if this was a normal occurrence and she dealt with it on a daily basis. The crackle of magic echoed behind Sky and she turned to see a little girl with an afro and a little red-headed boy hex each other at the same time. Their hexes collided in mid-air in a mushroom cloud of green, sending both children landing flat on their backs.

  They sat up, breathless with laughter.

  “Paxton, Nora,” Hazel said in a firm tone. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, Miss Aven,” Paxton said. “No harm done.”

  “You’re lucky then. No hexes against your playmates. That’s your second warning. There won’t be a
third.”

  “Yes, Miss Aven,” Nora said. She helped Paxton to his feet and they took off at a dead run for a nearby tree.

  So maybe Hazel did deal with more than just an accidental love spell or two during her daily routines. Hazel gestured to the oak bench across from her.

  “Take a seat, Sky,” she said. “Tell me what happened. Who did you cast this spell on?”

  Sky sank onto the bench, her hands folded in her lap. She hesitated and scrubbed at a scratch in the tabletop.

  “Aiden Hall,” she muttered.

  Hazel coughed faintly. But her expression remained steady. She hid her surprise well.

  “Half of Wildemoor would like to cast a love spell on that man,” she said.

  Sky raised her eyebrows.

  “Not me,” Hazel said. “I have my hands full as it is.”

  She nodded toward the playground where twenty-five witches and warlocks in training were testing their magical powers in various ways.

  “I’m sure it’s not a problem, Sky,” Hazel said. She reached across the table and patted Sky’s hand. “He’s an excellent warlock. He probably deflected it and there’s no harm done.”

  “That’s the thing though,” Sky said. “I don’t think he did.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I was a klutz. Again. I knocked over a few potions on display and I tried to stop this one bottle from breaking. And then his hand was on mine. And then I felt magic and the spell cooled before I could break it…”

  “In other words,” Hazel said. “It just sort of…happened.”

  Sky withered. “Exactly.”

  “Well, now that you know it was cast, have you attempted to break the spell?”

  “Yes. Several times. It didn’t work.”

  Hazel sighed.

  “Then tell him the truth. He’ll understand. Wildemoor is a magical neighborhood after all. Spells and hexes and all manner of witchcraft is bound to go awry at some point or another.”

  Sky sucked in a breath, horrified.

  “I can’t do that,” she said, her tone shrill with disbelief that Hazel would even suggest such a thing, let alone suggest it with a straight face.

  Hazel arched an eyebrow. Sky deflated slightly, shrinking in her seat. She felt like a student under Hazel’s intimidating gaze, even though Hazel was barely five years older than she was.

  “Why not?” Hazel said.

  The memory of Bianca Lovett floating into Spellbound like an ethereal swan out of a fairytale flooded into Sky’s mind. But Aiden hadn’t paid any attention to Bianca.

  If Sky broke the spell, she would be the invisible one again. She shook her head, blinking in shock at that intrusive thought. It was…wrong. And cruel. If Bianca and Aiden could truly grow to love each other, then she had no right to interfere with that.

  Aiden’s…infatuation with Sky was just that. Infatuation. It wasn’t even real. It was bewitched. Fake. Aiden didn’t choose to look at Sky of his own free will. Magic made him do it. Sky’s magic.

  “There’s hot water in the kitchen,” Hazel said when Sky remained silent for so long. “Make yourself some tea. Perhaps that will help you see things a little more clearly.”

  Sky hurried into the school’s tiny kitchen. She set about making tea. The nervous energy that had been spooling her tighter and tighter all night long began to ease as she measured out the herbs—red clover, lavender, and jasmine—and poured the steaming water over them.

  Sky curled her hands around the mug, staring into the water as the herbs steeped. Once the tea was barely cool enough to drink, she chugged it down. It burned her throat and tongue but she didn’t pay any attention to the discomfort as she examined the tea leaves gathered at the bottom of the cup.

  A shape. Rounded at the top, pointed at the bottom. Like a…

  Was that a heart?

  She turned the cup counterclockwise towards the light spilling in from the window. The tea leaves glistened. And the shape became clear, without a doubt.

  “Stars above, please, no,” Sky breathed.

  A skull.

  That could mean death, ruin, failure.

  When Sky broke the spell, Aiden would want nothing to do with her. He might not even speak to her.

  She groaned and buried her face in her hands.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Good morning, Aiden,” Sky recited into the mirror with the most charming smile she could muster. “I’m afraid I have something I need to tell you. Remember when I knocked over those potions? Well, it seems I made a mistake and accidentally put a spell on you. What kind of spell? Oh, just…you know, a simple spell. It’s hardly—“

  Sky broke off with a scowl and she scrubbed her hand through her hair.

  “What am I doing?” she said. “He’s going to think I’m some sort of nutty witch who’s obsessed with him and I certainly sound like one, standing here talking to my reflection.”

  It was long after her usual opening time for the tearoom. But the CLOSED sign remained firmly in place on the door of Boiled and Brewed. Sky had to sort out this business with Aiden first. She couldn’t concentrate on anything else. All she could think of was the way Aiden had looked at her, or the way his hand had settled, warm and firm atop hers.

  “Maybe I am going a bit nutty,” Sky muttered.

  She gathered her hair into a choppy ponytail and tugged her witch hat down over her ears to fend off the cold.

  “Just get it over with, Sangrey,” she said to herself in the mirror with a nod. “You brought this on yourself. You should have paid more attention in school to your magic lessons.”

  Sky took a deep breath and stepped out of her house. She steeled herself, fingers balled into fists at her sides as she made her way to Spellbound. But the closer she got to the shop, the more her recited speech turned to a jumbled mess in her head.

  It sounded terrible. Just awful. And it certainly wouldn’t ease the blow of what she had to tell Aiden.

  Sky slowed to a stop when Spellbound came into view.

  “Maybe I don’t have to tell him,” she reasoned. “Maybe I can just…take another stab at breaking the spell. If it doesn’t work, I’ll ask Hazel for help. Aiden never has to know.”

  Sky smiled. That did sound a little better. Less damaging. Just because her tea leaves showed her a skull was in her future, didn’t mean that she had interpreted that sign in the right way. She was only twenty-four. There were plenty of things in her lifetime that could pertain to a skull. It didn’t necessarily involve Aiden.

  She had to know if the spell had worn off by now though. A vain hope, she knew. But she was grasping at straws and she didn’t care.

  Sky picked up her pace, leaves crunching beneath her feet, as she walked up to Spellbound and opened the door. The bell tinkled a greeting.

  And Aiden was right there at the counter. Sky didn’t even have time to compose herself or catch her breath.

  “Miss Sangrey!” Aiden said with a heart-stopping smile. “Back for more candles already?”

  Sky stuttered on the threshold.

  Tell him, a voice in the back of her mind whispered.

  Don’t say a word, her heart said.

  “Actually…” Sky started.

  Then her courage gave out and she bailed.

  “I was wondering if I could look at your crystals?” she said.

  She did not need more crystals. Her bedroom was full of them. So was the kitchen window sill. And the cabinet under the sink in her bathroom.

  “On your right,” Aiden said, pointing to the window. “And if you don’t see anything you like, I have a new shipment of crystals in the back.”

  “Thank you,” Sky said, ducking her head.

  She pretended to study the crystals, touching them, running her thumb along the smooth edges. Finally, Aiden turned his back and Sky tucked her chin low to muffle her voice as she whispered an incantation to break the spell that bound him.

  Magic faltered at her fingertips, weak and loose. It n
eeded to be stronger. It needed to be direct. One hit was all she would get before Aiden would know what she was up to.

  Then, to her horror, Aiden glanced at Sky out of the corner of his eye with a faint smile.

  Sky dropped her hand. Magic spilled to the floor in a harmless pool that withered as soon as it touched the ground. Sky’s gaze darted back to the crystals. She picked one up—an amethyst the size of a baby’s fist. Even if she didn’t need more crystals, she needed a Mabon gift for her mother.

  Sky gripped the crystal so tightly that the edges bit into her palm. She placed it on the counter, keeping a safe distance away from the display of miniature potions beside her.

  “On the house,” Aiden said.

  “But I—“

  “It’s your birthstone, isn’t it? Amethyst?”

  Sky’s mouth dropped open as her protest died on her lips.

  “How did you know?”

  Aiden shrugged as he picked up the amethyst, placed it in a purple velvet box, bordered with black ribbon. He nudged the box towards her.

  “You wear an amethyst on your necklace,” he said.

  Sky’s hand flew to her throat where a teardrop shaped amethyst dangled from a black ribbon choker.

  “Maybe I like…purple,” she said.

  The corner of Aiden’s mouth tugged upwards with amusement.

  “In my experience,” he said. “A witch or warlock is drawn to their birthstone. So they wear it in some way. Even if your necklace bore a different colored stone, you would be more likely to wear shades of purple than any other color.”

  “Oh,” Sky said.

  It seemed like such a simple explanation, as if she should have known that already. Had she missed that as well during her magic lessons? She never thought she was that poor of a student. But reading tea leaves and divining the future was based on intuition and gut feeling, rather than the logical ritual of spell-casting.

  Aiden searched her face for a moment. “You’re wondering how I came about that knowledge.”

  Sky released a puff of air. “I don’t remember that in my lessons.”

  “I dabbled in alchemy for a while. Not the usual fare for spellwork.”