Page 44 of Witch You Weren't Here

That kind of enchantment could pass in the non-magical world, but of the two tables occupied, Kay noticed something openly magical happening at each. One group were playing a card game where the pack dealt itself according to raps on the top of the deck and a woman at the other was absently changing the colour of the petals on the flowering plant on the table as she talked to her friends.

Everyone in this room was either a witch or aware of the witching world. That was what Kay had felt as she’d come in through the doors – the all-seeing eye was infused with magic to dissuade non-magical people from trying to enter, and if that didn’t work, there was a charm to repel them. It was a witches-only club.

Kay frowned and stuffed her hands in her pockets – wondering if Harry had felt the same coldness, the way she had – or if she’d noticed it more because of her magic going haywire.

Had she ignored her magic for so long she was beginning to lose it? Maybe all the mishaps were just the first symptom of it dying away completely? A soft ache of sadness closed up her throat. She knew she’d always thought of her gift as useless, but if she no longer had any magic, because she’d stopped using it voluntarily or because she was obligated to in order to protect others, would that mean she was no longer a witch?

‘Right, let’s get you some food,’ Leon said, providing a blessed interruption to her fretting. ‘More people will start arriving for dinner soon, but you can grab whatever table you like. Which calls to you?’

Kay looked at Leon. ‘What’s the difference? Are there charms on them or something?’

‘So suspicious, Smurfette.’

‘Smurfette had blonde hair, not blue,’ Harry pointed out.

‘Did she? Ah well, in answer to your question, Kay, yes, they are charmed, and whichever you pick helps to guide me when I’m cooking your meal.’

‘Oh, you’re an influencer too. With food.’ She flicked a look at Harry, who chewed on his bottom lip in a way that made her think he was both nervous of how she was going to react … and ridiculously sexy. Blinking the lust away, she asked, in as neutral a tone as possible: ‘What if I don’t want influenced food?’

Leon frowned at her. ‘Dropje, I’m not trying to poison you.’ He looked at Harry for a moment and they seemed to communicate something without speaking, which irritated her.

She took a deep breath, because getting irritated with the man you were hoping to borrow a car off, and who was offering to feed you in his beautiful and cosy restaurant, wasn’t exactly a great move. Also, what if it was like Harry with his artwork and he had to try really hard not to infuse his food with his magic? Was she just being awkward for the sake of it?

‘All right, all right.’ She held up her hands and looked around the room, examining each of the vacant booths. They all seemed equally lovely, but, as she let her eyes wander, the one farthest away which had a stained-glass window inset into the wall, bathing the table softly in different coloured light, struck her as the one she most wanted to sit at. ‘That one, please.’

Leon sent her a grin. ‘OK then. That totally makes sense.’

Kay stifled another sigh. Why? Why did it make sense? She was getting kind of tired of the way most of the witches she was meeting this weekend seemed to understand something about her and her magic that she didn’t understand herself.

But if she’d been learning anything about herself recently, it was that there really was a lot she didn’t know, magical or otherwise. So, as they walked over, she tried again to leave her prickliness behind. Leon had been nothing but welcoming to her, and this was his business. He’d thought up a clever way to use his gift within the witching community; all the patrons would fully understand what they were getting when they came here, and it offered them a safe place to relax and freely use their magic which wasn’t just the privacy of their own homes.

‘What happens if someone wants the table where someone else is sitting?’ she asked.

‘Then they can choose to wait. Or their second choice is just as revealing.’

‘And what if other people in the party want to sit somewhere else?’

‘Generally, there is either a dominant member in need of something or a wavelength the group are on. I can tell the difference.’

‘How?’

‘Can’t give away my secrets.’ Leon tapped the side of his nose where a diamond stud glinted at her. ‘That’s what makes the place unique.’

She’d chosen the table, so did that mean she was the one whose needs were the most dominant or that she and Harry were on the same wavelength? She supposed the latter would make sense – they were both desperate to get home, worn out from the journey and trying to get along.

Leon settled them in the booth and left to grab drinks and menus. As Kay took off her coat, some of the tension immediately loosened from around her neck and shoulders. The cushions were softer than they looked, most likely because they had been fabricated with the magical equivalent of memory foam.

Harry was sitting opposite her, a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth as he tilted his face up to examine the stained-glass window. Kay’s breath grew shallow as she tried to figure out why seeing the slope from the underside of his chin to his exposed throat gave her the same sensation as finding a rare piece of vintage jewellery; wanting to trace her fingers over it to learn every unique millimetre; wishing others could understand how precious it was without needing to touch it themselves, so she could keep it safe.

She blinked as he turned his head towards her, catching her staring. She tried to clear her throat and it came out like a little dry cough. ‘Leon won’t take offence at my questions, will he?’ She chewed on the edge of her fingernail. ‘I don’t mean to sound so suspicious. Or judgemental.’

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t mean to sound it, or don’t mean to be it?’

A hot, uncomfortable emotion swirled in her chest, and she parted her lips, unsure how to answer that.

Harry shook his head. ‘It’s OK. Leon would much prefer to know if you have a problem with anything upfront. He’s all for informed consent and he’ll appreciate the way you want to examine things from all angles to make sure they’re ethical.’

She blinked. ‘Was that what I was doing?’

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