Page 5 of Blood Match

“Oops!” I clap a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, just a small technical glitch.”

“Technical glitch?” Margaret’s brows draw together. “I thought this was magic.”

“Yes, of course, of course! Sometimes it’s just a matter of…um…realigning the um…chakras…” I babble, gathering my wits and refocusing my attention on the tingling in my fingertips.

Chakras? Seriously, Rowan? Magic doesn’t work that way.

Relax. She doesn’t know that.

I keep waving my hands, feeling the power building. An image starts to form in my mind. An oval cameo that—

“You are out of your fucking mind!”

“What?” I swivel my head in confusion, then glare at my familiar. “Poppy, this isn’t the time!” I really don’t need more of her high jinks right now. But Poppy looks just as startled as I feel, her little paws clasped in front of her. The teacup is back in the air, this time accompanied by a vase and several jars filled with herbs.

Margaret’s eyes are wide with alarm. “What’s happening?”

“It’s, uh, all part of the process,” I stammer. My fingers tremble a little as I push my glasses up where they’ve slipped onto the bridge of my nose. I grit my teeth to steady my hands, reaching for the moonstone as Poppy rolls it in front of me. As soon as my fingers touch it, a surge of energy courses through me. The levitating objects spin faster, creating a whirlwind in my tiny cottage.

Shit!

Poppy leaps from her perch toward the spell ingredients. She collides with a vial of glittering powder, sending it flying. The powder explodes in a cloud of shimmering dust, coating everything – including a very startled Margaret – in a layer of sparkling residue.

“Oh my God,” Margaret sputters, spitting out glitter. “What kind of witch are you?”

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, the magical energy coalesces into a swirling vortex. It spins faster and faster, sucking in loose papers and small objects. Margaret shrieks, clutching her chair as it starts to slide towards the magical whirlwind.

“Don’t worry!” I shout over the din. “I’ve got this under control!”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know I’m in way over my head. The spell has taken on a life of its own, and I have no idea how to stop it.

I watch in horror as the magical vortex continues to spin, sweeping up everything in its path. Suddenly, the energy coalesces around Margaret, and with a bright flash, she turns a vibrant shade of navy blue from head to toe.

“What in the world?” Margaret shrieks, staring at her hands in disbelief. Then, without warning, she starts hiccupping uncontrollably.

I clap a hand over my mouth, torn between horror and hysterical laughter. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! I can fix this, I swear!”

“Fix this?” She’s half-standing now, eyes wide with horror. “I’m blue!”

“It’s all good…just give me a moment to—”

Just then, the door bursts open, and my father rushes in. “Rowan, what on earth is going on here? I felt the magical disturbance from—”

“This is fucking ridiculous!” The deep, accented voice echoes in my head again, startling me. In my surprise, I accidentally flick my wrist, sending a burst of magical energy toward my father.

With a pop and a flash, Dad turns the same shade of navy blue as Margaret.

Freaking fairy dust!

“Rowan!” he exclaims, looking down at his now-blue hands in shock.

I let out a strangled laugh, which quickly turns into a panicked squeak. “Dad! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what’s happening!”

Margaret, still hiccupping, turns to my father with fury in her eyes. “Mr. Blackwood! hic What kind of hic operation are you running hic here?”

My father, ever the diplomat, manages to keep his composure despite his new hue. “I assure you, Mrs…?”

“Hen- hic -derson,” she supplies between hiccups. She’s standing straight now, bristling with outrage. “My hic yoga instructor said I hic hic should come to you hic. I can see it was a big hic mistake!”

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