by Pat Esden
Chloe swiveled. Standing in front of a still swinging door that opened into a kitchen was a buxom brunette in a moss-green shirtdress. She’d seen the dress in the Anthropologie catalog. In fact, she might have bought it if she hadn’t already blown her budget on the gilet, not to mention a looming phone bill.
The brunette’s eyes slanted in her direction, her lips curling up in distaste. “I see the special guests are here.”
Athena hurried to the brunette and wiggled a pitcher of ice water from her grip. “Chloe”—she said, glancing back— “this is Jessica. She’s the rock of this coven, a generous witch and my assistant. If you have any questions, she’s the one to ask.”
It didn’t take a genius to see that she and Jessica weren’t going to be buddies. Not when Jessica was making it very obvious that she found the newbies distasteful. Or, more likely, she didn’t like them getting too close to her Athena.
Chloe forced a smile. “I’ll remember that.”
Athena set the pitcher on the table. “Why don’t you two finish in here while I check on the oven to see how everything’s coming along?” Without giving them a chance to respond, she swept off and vanished into the kitchen.
Jessica huffed out a loud breath, then fetched a stack of linen napkins from the sideboard.
Chloe kept her smile tacked on. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about daddy dearest, but being around this sweetheart wasn’t going to be a picnic.
They went to work setting the table. The main courses were going to go on a buffet interspersed with clusters of votive candles and bittersweet vine. The salads and trimmings were to be served family style on the table.
For the most part, Jessica glared and Chloe did the talking. Then Chloe figured out that Jessica didn’t mind talking about the coven, as long as she didn’t ask personal questions about her or Athena. Apparently, not only did Devlin, Athena, and Chandler Parrish—the metal sculptor—live here, but so did a woman named Brooklyn. She was Haitian and twenty-three, and—at least according to Jessica—the most skilled cream and salve maker to ever grace the face of the Earth, which was bullshit. One of Chloe’s aunts deserved that title.
Athena reappeared carrying a bowl of iced shrimp. Perhaps it was Jessica rattling on about Brooklyn’s mind-blowing skills that filled Chloe with the need to prove herself, but when she was certain Athena and Jessica were watching, Chloe flicked her fingers at the nine-branched candelabra that sat in the center of the table.
“Fire,” she said, commanding all the candles to light at the same time.
They flared to life instantly. Chloe turned her attention to an off- kilter napkin, straightening it out while trying to look nonchalant as though she lit that many candles every day and then some.
Jessica sniffed indignantly. “That tells us all we need to know about her.”
Athena’s eyes went icy. She pushed the bowl of shrimp into Jessica’s hands. “Do you mind taking this out to the bar and making sure everyone has drinks? We’ll be out in a second.”
Chloe swallowed hard, unsure if Athena was angry with Jessica or her. It had to be Jessica. She was the bitch. Chloe had just done something that needed doing; though with a teeny bit more flare than necessary.
Totally silent, Athena waited until Jessica’s footsteps faded. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the buffet, pursed her lips, and blew out a single puff of air.
Every votive candle on the buffet lit up at once—two or maybe three dozen of them.
She looked at Chloe and winked.
“How did you do—?” Chloe replayed what Athena had done in her mind. No hand motions. No verbal commands. She had to be a firestarter or in league with a fire spirit, that had to be the answer.
Athena moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I don’t have any special talents in this area if that’s what you’re thinking. Push your words and intention into your breath, focus and gather your magic there instead of in your fingertips. You can use this method for psychometry as well—like when you felt the history of a certain invitation?” She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.
Chloe grimaced. Damn. She was good.
“I’m sorry about that.” Chloe shrugged. “It wasn’t personal. I wanted to know about the coven. You have to admit—the early morning delivery, the spell on the sealing wax—that’s not exactly the normal way invitations get delivered.”
Athena folded her arms across her chest. “I hope you’re past that now because we’re looking for witches who aren’t just powerful. We want members who can be single-mindedly devoted to the coven and our purpose. Medicine and magic. Coven power, not personal glory. Unquestioning trust.” She moved closer and leaned forward, pushing back Chloe’s hair. “We aren’t looking for showoffs.”
Before Chloe could say anything, Athena turned and strode off toward the living room. A chill settled inside Chloe and for the first time it fully sunk in how serious this was. Magic and Medicine. This wasn’t just a new path for her to explore. This Circle was potentially her new beginning.
But was she ready for it? Was this what she really wanted?
Yes. With all her heart.
Chapter 5
There is something about the heat and sparks, metal welding to metal, finding form and beauty in what was cast aside.
—WPZI interview with artist Chandler Parrish
Chloe caught up with Athena at the bar where she was opening a bottle of white wine.
“Would you like a glass? This is one of our finest. Of course, if you prefer something else…”
“Wine would be great.” Chloe took the glass Athena held out, her mouth watering as the scent of spices and sweet woodruff reached her nose. She took another sniff. “May wine, right?”
“It’s our top seller. Personally, I don’t care if it’s an autumn or spring, it’s my go-to favorite.”
Chloe set her glass on the bar. “I didn’t realize you were in the wine business.”
“It’s one of our more lucrative ventures,” Athena said.
Casual as anything, Chloe rested her wrist on the top of her wine glass and let the tip of the miniature athame on her charm bracelet touch the wine. It didn’t change color, indicating the absence of drugs or spells in the wine. Not that she suspected Athena, testing was simply a habit her mom and sisters had drilled into her. A smart habit.
Athena came around the bar, glass in hand. “Enough about business, let me introduce you.” She raised her voice, addressing the couple at the pool table. “This is Brooklyn and Matt.”
The guy turned toward them. He was a cute, baby-faced blond, an outdoor-redneck kind of guy, his scuffed jeans and flannel shirt tamed down for the occasion by the addition of a gray pullover sweater. “Nice to meet you,” he said.
Brooklyn put her pool stick down and favored Chloe with a smile. At least favored was how her rich, stormy energy felt as it reached out and welcomed Chloe, deep-rooted magic that smelled dusky and earthy, and spoke of a long lineage of practitioners. Given her Haitian heritage, she might be a servant of the spirits, a follower of some form of Vodou. Perhaps Jessica hadn’t exaggerated that much about her salve-making skills.
Brooklyn gestured toward the other half of the room, screened from sight by a short wall and the staircase. “Chandler asked where the two of you were. She’s setting up the maze.”
Chloe smiled and nodded, but the fact the maze was being set up by Chandler the metal sculptor both confused and interested her. “I’m guessing this isn’t a standard garden style maze with plants and walking paths?”
“You’ll see.” Athena draped her arm over Chloe’s shoulder and walked her around the stairs. “It’s a test, actually. Nothing difficult. However, we did have a man arrive last night who wanted to join us and thanks to the maze he’s gone.”
“He failed?” Chloe said. Her mouth went dry. How hard was this test?
“You might say that, though he wasn’t totally without his uses.” Athena pressed her lips together, but not before Chloe caught a glimpse of a smirk.
Chloe took a couple sips of her wine. She didn’t want to drink too much before this test, but half a glass might help her relax and keep her head where it belonged.
Everyone—including Em and Midas—were gathered on chairs and floor cushions that had been pulled up close around a glass-topped coffee table. Athena tossed out introductions to the people Chloe hadn’t met. There were the two elderly women in black and a man from somewhere near the Canadian border. One of them smelled like pee, and Chloe reminded herself to avoid sitting near them at dinner. There was a couple who lived off the grid and ran the coven’s small vineyard. None of them gave off anything more than a slight hum of energy; no doubt their skill level was equally basic.
Chandler Parrish turned out to be in her late twenties or maybe early thirties. She was broad-shouldered with shaved-short hair, large hands, and sleeves of monkey and dragon tattoos. Even with a caftan covering eighty percent of her body, her effortless movement as she hoisted the thick glass top off from the coffee table and rested it against a wall revealed how agile and powerful she was.
“That would be the maze,” Athena said, nodding at the coffee table. With the top removed, Chloe could see that the glass had laid overtop a table-size labyrinth created out of rusted gears, nuts and bolts, part of a car radiator, gauges…It was like a giant cross-section of a brain gone steampunk and set on top of four chunky legs.
Midas knelt down on one side of the table and peered over his glasses for a moment. “This is totally awesome. How does it work?”
Chandler settled cross-legged on the floor across from him. “I’ll demonstrate how I choose to do it. Then it’ll be your turn.”
She placed a gray marble in one corner of the maze. With a flick of her fingers, an athame appeared in her grip. Chandler rested the athame’s tip at the base of the marble and murmured an incantation. As the tremor of her magic filled the air, the dragon and monkey tattoos on her arms vibrated as if about to come to life. Exhaling, she drew the athame forward. The marble followed, creeping along one of the maze’s alleyways as if something of great force fought to hold it back. She drew the marble around a gear and into a straighter alleyway. Suddenly the marble swung away from the athame’s tip, veered down a dead-end alley and stopped. Chandler mumbled her incantation again and placed her athame tip against the marble. Energy crackled in the air around her, sparks and tiny blue flames licked up from under the marble. But it didn’t move.
Settling back, Chandler withdrew her athame. “Not a recorder breaker for me, but you get the idea.”
Chloe studied the maze. This was a test, clearly. But when Chandler had said, “How I choose to do it,” Chloe had taken it to mean the test wasn’t just about moving a marble from one point to another. It involved using personal magical strengths to succeed, about resourcefulness. Most likely there was magic melded into the maze, but something else was going on as well. She just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Athena tilted her head at Midas. “You ready?”
“Anytime.” He grinned, a shit-eating grin that told Chloe he’d figured out the trick. She also suspected the no showing-off bit was about to go out the window.
“Would you like anything?” Athena asked. “You can request and use any tool of the Craft you desire.”
Midas flicked a dreadlock back from his face. “Nope, I got this.”
He scooched around the table until he was as close to the marble as possible. Then he placed one hand over the marble and his other hand under the maze, directly beneath the marble.
Chandler smiled approvingly. “I don’t believe we’ve seen it done this way before. Smart move.”
Athena leaned closer, eyes wide and glinting with eagerness as he moved his hand over the marble, leading it down an alleyway and deeper into the maze. The marble didn’t cling to the metal or resist as it had with Chandler. In fact, it moved almost too freely to the point that Midas had to withdraw his hand for a second and let the marble go still, while he caught his breath and refocused.
Chloe took a sip of wine to hide a grin. Okay. She was starting to get this. The marble resisting and clinging to the metal maze could be caused by magnetism, if the marble was a loadstone or contained magnets. Midas’s hand that was beneath the table might be blocking the earth’s natural magnetism, somehow magnified by magic. It was pure speculation, but Midas was into geophysics, so it made sense for him to catch on quickly. Chandler could have used the incantation to magnetize her athame. The question was, what could she do without copying either of them? What would play to her strengths instead of feebly imitating theirs?
Her fingers went to her charm bracelet and the tiny crystal pendulum dangling from it. Divining. She was fairly good at that. It seemed like she could figure out something, especially if Em went next and she got a few more minutes to think.
Chloe scanned the group. Where was Em? For that matter, Devlin still wasn’t around either.
She widened her search and spotted Em sitting partway up the staircase with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her hands were clamped over her ears and she was rocking rhythmically, as if listening to music.
A heavy feeling gathered in Chloe’s chest. She understood that withdrawing was one way to deal with stress. But Em had accepted the invitation. She’d somehow gotten here from New York State and connected with Devlin. It would be a shame if Em blew her chance of joining now by not even trying. The Circle might be her salvation from whatever past she was escaping.
Chloe set her glass on a stand and wound her way through the crowd to the staircase. As she started up, Em raised her head and took her earbuds out.
“Hey,” Chloe said, sitting down beside her. “You’re going to try the maze, aren’t you?”
Em clutched her knees closer. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I feel like I’m going to puke.”
“It’s just nerves.” Chloe put her arm around Em’s shoulder, leaned closer, and whispered. “You’re a medium, right?”
She nodded. “But I don’t see how that’s going to help.”
“It’s not a normal maze. I think the marble’s a magnet.” Chloe picked at her bracelet, thinking. “Maybe a spirit could tell you what to do?”
“Maybe, if they wanted to.” As Em lapsed into silence, an uneasy feeling prickled Chloe’s intuition. Someone was watching her.
She held still for a second, trying to pinpoint the person. Athena might be wondering what she was talking to Em about and why, assessing her actions as part of the maze test. Jessica could be keeping an eye on her.
Tilting her head, Chloe let her intuition guide her gaze over the staircase railing toward the lounge.
Devlin. He was leaning against the bar, looking up at her with bold dark eyes.
Heat flared through her cheeks, and a rush of tingles invaded her belly.
He raised the beer he was holding in a toast and smiled.
Her breath caught in her throat and a chill swept her arms. She smiled back and nodded, but deep inside fear uncoiled. She was too far away to understand the meaning of his toast, to see it reflected in his eyes or in any other subtleties of his body language. She wanted to believe it was purely friendly—or even a hint that he’d been watching her out of a more personal interest. But there was also the possibility that he was saluting her because he thought she was cozying up to Em in hopes of finding a way to succeed at the maze. If that was the case, then he really didn’t get her.
“I know.” Em’s fingers clenched Chloe’s arm, bringing her up as she got to her feet. “Electromagnetism and ghosts are like kissing cousins. I can do this.”
Em’s burst of confidence buoyed Chloe, making her grin like crazy. They hurried down the stairs and rejoined the crowd. Midas still had the marble moving thr
ough the maze. But the marble was now on the farthest side of its labyrinth of alleyways and dead-ends. Even his long arms weren’t long enough to reach over and beneath the table at the same time. He twisted and stretched like a contortionist. Finally, only one fingertip could reach the marble, then not even that.
Midas threw his hands up in surrender. “Damn. I was so close.”
“That was amazing.” Chandler applauded and everyone else joined in.
“Good job,” Matt added.
Em drifted over to Midas. Hooking her lank hair behind her ears, she gazed down at him. “Done yet?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He huffed out a frustrated breath and relinquished his spot.
Em sunk down cross-legged with her hands resting on her knees. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Her breathing slowed. She raised her arms, outstretched, with her palms up. “I beseech you, souls that wander this place.” Her voice murmured, like the rustle of a graveyard willow. “Give me aid. Show yourselves. Move the marble that we may see your power. Show us that you’re greater than the strength of the maze.”
The room hushed. Chloe didn’t even dare breathe. Em’s voice faded, replaced by the croon of her energy, a sorrowful ballad sweeping the room, calling out to departed souls.
A chill skated up Chloe’s spine and her intuition screamed that something powerful was coming.
As if she sensed it too, Athena wheeled and stared at the wall of sliding glass doors. Lips narrowing, she folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t like this.”
Flash. A blaze of light illuminated the garden, followed by a series of white strobes. Then everything went dark, including the houselights. Only the flicker of candlelight remained.
Chloe’s mouth dried. Her pulse hammered in her veins. Whoever the spirit was, they wanted badly to get in. She could feel its insistence building the air, a powerful storm waiting to be unleashed.
The houselights flickered back on. The tension evaporated from the air.
Chloe blew out a relieved breath. Apparently, her intuition had been wrong.