If the store had been empty, Dawn could have just magicked the broken shards to the trashcan in our tiny breakroom. But seeing as the women in the shop were tourists, I had to use the dustpan.
“Sweet goddess, what is the matter with you today?” Dawn hissed, stepping from behind the cash register when I returned from the breakroom. “Did someone cast a butterfingers hex on you? You’ve been dropping our merch left, right, and center all day,” she complained, tapping her cream-white heels on the checkered black and white floor tiles, her bright red lips pressed into a thin line, with just the faintest wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. The twins never admitted to their age, but I believed Dawn and Destiny to be only about a decade or so younger than my grandmother—somewhere in their fifties, but with witches, you never knew. They could be well on their way to a century.
She was dressed much like a 50s housewife in a polka-dotted, sky-blue dress, complete with an apron, for whatever reason, and her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a bandana updo like a real-life Rosie the Riveter.
“It was only two candles. I’d hardly call that breaking things left, right, and center,” I defended myself, returning to unpacking the box of supplies I’d brought in this morning. It was just me and her in the shop today. Destiny was out of town on some personal matters, but she’d promised to be back in time for the solstice celebrations later that evening.
“Two too many, Snow White.” Dawn sighed and started helping me. I scowled at her use of that detested nickname. I wasn’t as pale as the fairytale princess was purported to be. In fact, I was sporting a rather fabulous golden tan thanks to my father’s Mediterranean genes. But because I had pitch-black hair and bright blue eyes, everyone had been calling me Snow White for as long as I could remember.
Some jerk at Redwood had thought he was being creative, and the nickname had somehow reached ears here in Mystic Cove. But my friends and family thought it had been meant as a compliment, not a jab to ridicule my sister and me.
Beauty and the Witch. Snow White and the Hag. Those were the names hurled at Piper and me as we walked through the halls of Redwood. The snickers behind our backs claimed that since I’d gotten all the looks, it was only fair that my older sister got all the magic. For a long time, we’d both been everyone’s punching bags. Up until puberty hit, anyway. Then she got the boobs and butt I’d been sporting for a while and suddenly she was on the inside and I was left to fend for myself. Piper never participated in the bullying, but when she became part of the cool crowd, she never exactly stepped in to protect me either.
She’d apologized later down the line, and of course, I forgave her. She was the only sister I had. But I never forgot, and sometimes I thought that perhaps I hadn’t forgiven her after all.
“Is this because of the young gentleman you had dinner with last night? Rachel tells me that he had you wrapped around his finger and giggling like a giddy school girl. Beverley tells me he has quite the pedigree. I must admit, though, I never thought I’d see the day you’d last through an entire date with a warlock without scooping one of his eyes out with your soup spoon,” Dawn teased.
“There were no spoons around, sadly,” I joked back. “And I fail to see how a brief bout of clumsiness has anything to do with Jacob Buchanan. Besides, you know better than to believe a word out of that mangy mutt’s mouth,” I snapped back without any real heat behind my words. Rachel was, after all, one of my closest friends, and I didn’t blame her for spreading gossip to anyone who’d listen. I’d been there before and spread a few salacious tidbits I’d seen or overheard as well, but it wasn’t as much fun when the shoe was on the other foot.
“Then what’s got you all moony-eyed and jittery if not the warlock Indiana Jones? Bev thinks he’s your soulmate. Should I tell you how many times you’ve sighed since you walked in here this morning? Or how many times you’ve stared off into the distance, all dreamy-eyed? I have to say, coming from you, my dear Soph, it’s kind of creepy. I’ve never seen you so gone for a guy before.”
“I am not ‘gone’ for him. I barely even know the guy!” I denied hotly, making air quotes with my fingers as I spoke. What I didn’t deny was the truth that I was, in fact, jittery because of Jacob. Since we opened up shop two hours before, my eyes strayed to the door every few minutes, waiting for him to walk in like he said he would.
My stomach had been tied up in knots to the point where I’d barely been able to scarf down a breakfast sandwich and daily breakfast smoothie. And then, I thought I caught sight of his huge frame walking past the window and my heart kicked hard against my ribs before breaking out into a tap dance. The momentary spike of adrenaline made me feel like I was coming down from drinking one too many Monster Energy Drinks and my hands would not stop shaking. All from a brief sighting that wasn’t even him.
Dawn hummed noncommittally and threw me for a loop when she didn’t press for more information like I thought she would. Instead, she moved on to another topic I really didn’t want to talk about.
“So, what’s this nonsense I hear about you not coming to charge the ley lines tonight?” she asked, just as two of our regulars came into the shop, followed by more tourists. Again, my heart soared to the heavens when I heard the door open, only for it to come crashing back hard when none of the people who walked into the store were the man I’d hoped it would be.
Get a grip, will ya, stupid heart? The man is not meant for us, my brain scolded the useless organ.
“Hold that thought,” Dawn told me when the regulars headed straight to the counter, which meant they were likely here for potions.
“So?” Dawn asked a little while later over a glass of iced tea when there was another lull in the store despite the flurry of activity along the strip of the promenade and down at the beach. Neither one of us could be bothered with doing any administrative stuff.
Shrugging, I tried to play off my reluctance to attend with a carefree attitude. “What am I going to do there besides watch the coven do all the work from the sidelines and get sauced off Ma Hutchinson’s moonshine?”
“Since when has that ever mattered to you? This gathering stopped being about charging the lines eons ago anyway. Everyone’s just there to get sloshed and munch my hash brownies anyway. You’re a member of the Mystic Cove coven, Soph, you should be there tonight. And if you want to feel useful, you can babysit the young ones while the rest of us are getting drunk off our knockers.” She snorted inelegantly, knocking her knees against mine.
“Who would bring their kids to such a thing? Last time I checked, no one bothered to keep things PG,” I asked, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. This was long before my time, but Gran once told my sister and I that back in her day, summer solstice celebrations got more than a little heated. Even now, it was a common sight for the younger witches and warlocks to sneak off into the woods after all that power had been released into the air. Dating back to time immemorial, sex and power had been inextricably intertwined, which was why some witches and warlocks got unbelievably horny after expending a lot of power. The little ones were usually left at home for summer solstice, but they were allowed to accompany us to the coven circle during Beltane, Yulemas, and other festivities.
“Your sister for one, and a couple of other families. Don’t ask me why. I was on the opposing faction of the motion, but Hailey friggin’ Clarke bulldozed everyone into agreeing. Apparently, her coven in Ohio allows children during their solstice celebrations, and since she's Jerome's wife, no one wanted to argue.”
Ugh. And therein lied the real reason I didn’t want to go—Jerome and his she-demon wife. I’d heard rumors that they’d also invited their brat pack of friends from school. I did not feel like running into any of those jerks again. As small as Mystic Cove was, I’d been successful in avoiding the Clarkes so far, and I wanted to keep it that way.
CHAPTER 10
Jacob never showed up at the store, but I did get a call from my mother, followed by my sister and Gran, each of them begging me to join the coven circle; and when that didn’t work, they turned to “threats” like not inviting me to any future coven circles. In the end, it was my two nieces, Rita and Charlotte, who convinced me to go, claiming that they had something exciting to show me. Piper promised to pick me up at six. Between four and five, I took a short nap to keep from dwelling on the bitter sting of disappointment that Jacob didn’t show up after all.
Why would he? I’d made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t interested in him. Still, that didn’t stop me from mumbling bitterly to myself when I woke up and got ready. An evening in the woods meant cargo pants, boots, and a long-sleeved t-shirt, as well as dousing myself in mosquito repellent. I was brushing up on a necklace design when I heard a car pulling up my driveway. Assuming it was my sister, I grabbed my phone and house keys and rushed to the door.
My mouth went dry and my throat clamped up at the sight of Jacob closing the distance from where his car was parked to my house with his long-legged strides. Keys clutched to my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that this was some silly illusion conjured up by inhaling too many chemicals and scented oils from my workshop and the boutique.
“You’re not going to gouge out my eyes with those if I stepped up on the porch, are you?” His amused voice floated up from the bottom step that led up to the porch that wrapped around my little cottage. I looked down and saw that I was holding onto the jangle of keys the way my self-defense instructor taught me, with the three of them poking out between my fingers like Wolverine’s claws. The moves I’d learned may have worked on human men, but against my kind, shifters, and the other beings out there, it would be akin to poking a hornet’s nest.
“H-how… What are you doing here?”
He must have taken that as his cue that I would not be causing him any bodily harm and climbed up the two stairs, leaning against the railing of the porch, making no secret that he was checking me out.