Should I tell Delia? I wondered and my face pulled into a grimace. Probably not.
As I debated whether to tell my mother about my new destiny, struggling with both the hilarity and seriousness of it, a tinge of pride went through me. Maybe now she couldn’t say I was such a blemish on the Matheson name. Maybe now…
The bells tinkled and I looked up, almost inhaling the bite of bun.
Speak of the devil.
“Darling, good morning,” Delia said, smiling at me as she smoothed a hand over her sleek hair, pinned in a high bun and making her cheekbones even more prominent. Today she was wearing a lovely navy-blue coat, with a ruffled collar and flared out from the waist. For a moment, I envied her height – you had to be tall to wear that kind of outfit and complement it with knee-high boots. You also needed to be skinny, as I was not the kind of girl who could get those boots over her calves.
“I wanted to tell you something very nice…” Delia said, her smile gentle, and I sat up straighter, wondering if she’d already heard about the prophecy. Then her smile faltered, her voice growing cold and disgusted. “What is that?”
I glanced behind me as though expecting there to be a giant warty toad floating there. Then I looked back at my mother and raised my eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“That toxic confection with sugar and spice you’re currently inhaling, Sadie,” my mother said, her smile replaced with a snooty look. “This is why you can’t lose weight.”
Stung, I said, “I’m not trying to lose weight.”
Delia drew back, a hand at her heart. “You’re not? Do you own a mirror? Or have you given up on that, too and thrown them all out?”
You would think after all the times Delia had said something cutting about my weight, I would be able to brush it off. But I never could. Her words were the jab of a needle, one that would store itself in my brain and hound me for weeks. Shoulders slumping, I pushed the rest of it away and looked upwards to stave off the coming tears. I’d learned long ago not to cry in front of Delia.
At that moment, the bells jangled again and I swallowed hard, standing up and saying, “Good morning, welcome to…” I trailed off.
It was Seamus.
“Welcome,” I finished in a squeaky voice.
My mother glanced back in perfunctory interest, but then her face lit up as Seamus strode forward. He nodded, a soft smile on his face. “Morning.”
“Hello, there. I’m Delia Matheson,” my mother butted in, tossing her head and sticking out a perfect hand with perfect red nails. “Oh my, how have we never met?”
Raising an eyebrow, Seamus replied politely, “Probably because I’m new in town, Ma’am.”
Delia went pale at the “Ma’am” and I choked down a laugh as he submitted to a quick handshake. Then he turned to me and I tried not to melt against the counter. But it wasn’t easy under that sexy, steady gaze. The gray of Seamus’s eyes seemed darker, almost like a thunderhead, and the auburn in his brown hair gleamed. He really did have a quiet and fascinating air about him, ten times that of Michael Fassbender. And my mother was far from immune.
Yet he was looking and smiling only at me, totally ignoring her. As I glanced at my mother, her beautiful face suddenly seemed slightly garish. Her lips were too pouty, cheekbones too rouged, eyes almost too green. Her nostrils flared as Seamus spoke.
“Sadie,” he said and I jerked my gaze back to him. “May we speak in private?”
A lovely, lilting laugh tinkled through the air as my mother laid a hand on Seamus’s arm. “Oh, dear boy, don’t bother. I’m her mother, hard to believe, I know, considering how young I l--”
Seamus gave her a quick glance. “No, I had assumed as much.”
My mother’s face tightened, but as Seamus was perfectly polite, she quickly recovered with a smile, moving closer. “If you’re looking for magic, I can certainly help you.” She cupped her mouth, leaning closer to him as if she was sharing a secret, but not bothering to drop her voice. “Unless you require shoddy spellwork, of course. Then you’re in the right place.”
Lips thinning, Seamus’s eyes suddenly went flinty. “Excuse me?”
Clearly, he did not want to antagonize my mother, but he also was swelling protectively and his tone had a dangerous edge to it. Watching him, my heart did a funny leap.
Once again, my mother looked wrong-footed and I had a sense of the surreal watching her try to recover. “I only meant it is customary for new magic folk in town to speak to a witch of prestige and power. You must have mixed up your Mathesons.”
“I did not,” Seamus said quietly, folding his arms and pulling free from her. “Sadie–”
“Tell me, are you from Ireland, lad?” my mother said, leaning across the counter so that he was forced to look at her and she smiled seductively. “I’ve always wanted to visit.”
As she prattled on at poor Seamus, who was struggling to hide his bewilderment and annoyance, I bit back a sigh.
No one was safe from her charms and I had to wonder if he'd give in. She was far lovelier and slimmer than me, didn’t look a day over thirty, and with more powers to boot. Maybe Seamus would go back and recommend to his cousins they train a different Matheson witch.
Looking down, I suddenly thought of my father, one of Delia’s more hapless victims. He was a mortal who my mother used to have a baby – me – and then promptly divorced. For years, it baffled him, even as I tried to explain in my visits that she was power-hungry. One of the ways she got her kicks was wielding her beauty over men.
Which reminded me, I needed to visit my dad. Sometimes Delia’s presence was so overwhelming I forgot I had a parent who loved me just for me. At that moment, her sharp, incredulous laugh interrupted my thoughts.
“You’re honestly here to see Sadie?” my mother asked, the charm dropping away and her lips twisting as she jabbed a finger toward me.
Seamus inclined his head as he gazed at me. “I am. I cannot imagine why you would think otherwise, especially since I have said that several times over.”
“I wish you luck, then,” my mother snapped, not used to being denied or upstaged, especially by me. She shoved away from the counter, her shoulders up and her eyes flashing. In a huff, she marched to the door and called back, “Remember what I said about mirrors, Sadie. Get one and lay off those damn buns.”
The door slam sent a shudder through me and Delia’s needling jabbed again as I adjusted my dress, suddenly very conscious of the way it clung to my curves. Maybe this wasn’t something I should be wearing. I went to pick up the bun and throw it away when Seamus stopped me.
“Not often someone besides the cousins tests my patience so thoroughly,” he said, his hand warm on my wrist. “Is she always like that or is she ailed by some trollish hex?”
“Oh, she doesn’t need magic to be mean,” I murmured, cheeks flushing. Maybe that parting shot had been unnecessary, but that was Delia. “I am sorry you had to hear all that.”
"What do I care what a cruel old witch has to say?" Seamus said with a shrug. "If it's true that is how she always is, jealousy has curdled her into something past recognition."
“Jealousy? My mother?” I scoffed. “No, she’s as proud as they come and for good reason.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Seamus said, making me think of Mick. And to my surprise, he went on in a thoughtful tone, his eyes suddenly smoldering. “I think she’s jealous of your womanly shape. All angles, your mother looks as cold as snuggling up to a skeleton in a grave. You on the other hand…” Suddenly, he started, his square jaw tensing. “Apologies for my forwardness.”
“No, um, it’s okay. Thank you,” I said, my heart overflowing. Seamus was so delicious, he was making the cinnamon bun bland by comparison. My hand started to lift to touch his cheek in thanks when I caught myself.
Woah, girl. Easy.
“You’re welcome, lovely Sadie,” Seamus said, as he gently let me go. Straightening, his eyes became wary, but he continued in the sam
e soft voice, “I’ve come for your answer.” He paused. “What say you, lass? Will you accept your destiny and fight alongside us or…?”
The question lingered and I once again saw those terrible black pages in the Book of Ides.
Gathering my courage, I took a deep breath and let go of all the self-doubt crowding into my heart and soul. Somewhere, deep down, there was a flame that leaped into being and the crystal heart on my chest seemed to hum. With a leap of faith, I nodded at Seamus.
“The answer is yes.”
Chapter 9
Seamus’s face broke into a satisfied smile. Striding around the counter, he embraced me and his breath tickled my ear as he said, “Beyond a doubt, I knew you’d say yes, Sadie.”
“Uh, thanks,” I squeaked, my heart beating into every part of my body as I inhaled his woodsy scent. Tentatively, I hugged Seamus back, fingertips pressing into the hard lines of his back and trying not to squeal like a besotted banshee.
Stepping away after several moments, and with great reluctance, Seamus took my shoulders. “Now, we must crack on, my lady. There is much to do, much to teach you.”
Some part of me was still astounded about my decision and the prophecy, but I took a deep breath. Nodding, I glanced around and asked, “What about The Witch’s Keep?”
“Ah, your lovely shop.” Seamus also glanced around. “Will it be a problem to close up for a couple of weeks?” His eyes were troubled when they met mine again and I smiled, shaking my head. “I apologize for the inconvenience in any case. We’ll try to get you back as soon as we can.”
“No, it’s alright,” I said. In the back of my head, I think I’d suspected as much. “Can’t be a shopkeeper and save the world – wait, where are we going? Are we leaving Salem?”
“Yes,” Seamus said. “But only to a house a stone’s throw from the town border. See, we don’t want to wake the slumbering mage too soon. And since there’s no telling what sorts of spells the bastard might have enacted to bring about the Purging, we must keep you safe and out of Salem until Yule. If Skinner senses you…” he paused and looked away. “Well, a lock is better than a doubt.”
“Hm?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Seamus smiled and looked back at me. “Better safe than sorry, as you Americans say.”
“Of course,” I said. It wasn’t like the shop was getting much business. I was sure it would be fine. “If you give me directions, I’ll be along as soon as I can.”
Seamus laughed and tweaked my nose. “Sadie, you cannot get rid of me that easily. I’m here to help. First, why don’t you gather what you need and then we’ll close up?”
Nodding mutely, flustered at his gallantry, I went upstairs and Seamus followed. Again, I found myself enjoying how his calm and deferential bearing wrapped around me like a snug blanket. In a past life, Seamus must have been a knight of the chivalric code. His next words proved it and had me melting in all sorts of gooey ways.
“I must tell you, I like your home and shop. Both are charming. Do you do good business?”
“Um, it’s okay,” I fibbed, looking up at the tall specimen of man in my kitchen who I was certain I was starting to fall for. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge, Seamus.”
To my surprise, a faint flush stole across his cheeks as he averted his eyes and smiled to himself. My breath caught. How could a man be so sweet and sexy? It wasn’t fair.
“Seamus?” I asked softly, reaching out for his arm.
“Ah, it’s nothing. You remembered my name is all,” Seamus replied, meeting my eyes and giving me a soft smile. It tugged at my heartstrings and sent my ovaries into overdrive. “I’m not always the one who sticks in people’s memories, you know? What with Pat, Mike, and Mick." He shrugged philosophically. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Of course I remembered you,” I said. “And I don’t think you’re overshadowed at all. I think you’re each wonderful in your own way.” I put my other hand to my chest. “You have such a calm way with you, I envy that. I feel so comfortable and–” Realizing I was blathering, I stopped and snatched my hand back. “Um, anyways... I, uh–”
“Yours is a pure and open heart, Sadie Matheson,” Seamus interrupted softly, his arms cupping my elbows and tugging me closer. He kissed my hair. "Not sure I deserve such high praise, but I'll take it." Eyes twinkling, he let me go and twisted me around. “Now stop your flirting with this poor Irishman and go pack up.”
Glancing over my shoulder, still blushing, I gave him a nervous smile and fluttered into my bedroom. I was in such a daze, I wasn’t sure what I was packing, but I at least had the sense to grab my Grimoire and other spell books. Once done, I came into the kitchen where Seamus was fiddling with the leaking faucet. Only it was no longer leaking. Oh, be still my poor heart.
“Fixed it,” he said cheerfully. “Come on, then.”
Downstairs, I grabbed a few other things I needed, shoving them into my overstuffed bag and silently worrying I was forgetting something. Once done, Seamus took it from me and with a twist of his left hand, sent it ahead to the house.
“Sadie, know that we can always come back if you forget something,” he told me.
In the main area of the shop, I looked around and let out a breath. It was harder to leave than I’d expected. My eyes went to the paper mobiles created by Jaffre and I wondered if I should send him a note, explaining what was going on, but then Seamus patted my shoulder.
“You’ll be back soon,” he said and I gave him a smile. I was sure of all of the O’Sullivans, he was the only one who understood why I was dawdling. Samwise fluttered to my shoulder and nuzzled his beak against my cheek. “Who’s this?”
“Samwise,” I said, brushing my fingertips along the parrot’s head.
“Ah,” Seamus said, studying the bird. “So this is the little dog you accidentally turned into a parrot?”
My stomach swooped with embarrassment. “Yes, I meant to look up a reversal but I hadn’t the time and then my mother and you and well…”
I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I was afraid I would only make it worse, and at least my beloved companion wasn’t unhappy as a bird. If I made him into a platypus next, who knew how he’d take it?
“Aye, I understand.” Seamus held out his hands and graciously said, “How about this? I’ll turn him back for you.”
“Oh, gosh! Would you?” I asked, picking up a squawking Samwise, and all but thrusting him at Seamus. “I would so appreciate it, thank you.”
Seamus took the parrot, cradling it against his chest in one hand and snapped his fingers with the other. A brief burst of light went around the room and the snap echoed for several seconds. Then Samwise the dog was wriggling and licking Seamus’s chin.
“Oh, Samwise,” I cried, clapping my hands. “Oh, he likes you, good. I can bring him along, right?”
As Seamus passed me back the dog, who began to lick my cheek, he said, “It breaks my heart to deny you anything, lass, but even a familiar would be a distraction in the coming days. Not to mention, he could be in danger. Can you leave him with a friend? Just until Skinner is dealt with.”
“Oh, I guess so,” I said reluctantly, pulling on Samwise’s silky ears. “I’m sure Belinda wouldn’t mind.” Putting the dog down, the three of us walked outside and I locked up the shop. Glancing up, I saw the sign creaking overhead and then I leaned forward to press a kiss against the door. “Bye, little shop. We’ll be home soon.”
“That we will. Where does Belinda live?” Seamus asked, draping an arm around my waist, and Samwise appeared in his other arm.
“Corner of Briggs and Webb, but–”
The shop spun away and I was clamped to Seamus’s side. As this was the third time this had happened, I was starting to get used to it, but I still stumbled when we stopped. Seamus pulled me upright and I noticed Samwise was shell-shocked, ears and tail stiff.
“Here,” Seamus said, handing me Samwise, who collapsed against me.
“Sorry, Samwise,
but I’m sure Auntie Belinda will stuff you with treats.” Kissing the dog’s head, I walked up the stairs of Belinda’s house and knocked on the door. There was a winking pumpkin hanging on it, which swung wildly as she yanked open the door.
“What now, Johnny?" she barked. Her hair was a mess and she was half in her costume, half in her pajamas. "Oh, Sadie, sorry, I thought you were Johnathan Bancroft trying to get back in my good graces." She blinked at me. “You’re not hungover. How is that possible? Wait, why are you here with – oh, Samwise, you’re back to normal…” Rubbing her eyes, she groaned. “It’s too early for this.”
“It’s almost noon,” I said with a laugh. “Listen, Bells, could you please watch Samwise for…?” I turned to Seamus.
“A few weeks,” Seamus supplied. “Hello, Ms. Belinda. Seamus O’Sullivan.”
Belinda sagged against her door, lips parting as she took in his exquisiteness and a breathy noise escaped her. “Another one?” Her eyes narrowed and darted back to me. “Um, sure. So long as you tell me what’s going on. Are you leaving town?” A strange look crossed my friend’s face, as though she didn’t quite recognize me. “Sadie, does this have something to do with where you were last night? Is something wrong?”
“Yes, and sort of,” I said, kind of shoving Samwise at her before I could break down.
“You can tell your friend as much as you think she needs to know,” Seamus whispered, his lips inches from my ear and Belinda’s eyebrows shot up.
“Um, so,” I started to say, then paused. “Right, there’s this dangerous warlock, but he’s asleep right now and he’s going to wake up this coming Yule. He wants to recreate the Salem Witch Trials on a global scale. And, apparently, I’m the one who will put him on ice or something.” Belinda’s eyes were huge and I hurried to get it all out. “Guess all those omens were spot on, although who knew I'd be tangled up in it, but I am, and oh, the O'Sullivan cousins have to help me train because I guess the Seer of the Ring of Kerry is like their ancestor and that’s where I was last night. With them. The four of them." Belinda blinked at me as Samwise licked her face. "Annnd, I think that about covers it. Okay, thanks, bye."
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