Page 147 of Castings & Curses

“But I don’t know how to be a warlock.”

“Don’t worry. I think you’ll catch on fast. Warlocks in my coven will teach you. And it’s totally up to you, but there’s an empty cabin on the property. Needs some TLC to make it habitable, but it’s yours. Rent-free. We have the funds to upgrade it, just haven’t gotten to that last one. No roommates, except the people who live and spend their days on the grounds. Again, no pressure. I’m not a Helwig. You’ll have free rein among the Wilde coven.”

His heart stuttered. He couldn’t believe how his luck had changed. He needed a moment to digest. “Why all the cabins on the grounds?”

“Used to be a campground. My parents bought it, demolished the house and built the McMansion before I was born.”

“I would’ve loved to have grown up here. I love the outdoors and hiking in the Santa Cruz hills. This sounds corny, but it’s enchanted here.”

“It’s not corny. I feel the same. I’ve always thought it magical, and I never want to leave.” Her finger danced another risky tango on his chest.

“My turn for questions. Why do all the Wilde witches keep the Wilde name? It wasn’t your dad’s last name, right?”

Her fingers reached the hem of his T-shirt and he sucked in his stomach in anticipation, but she didn’t reach beneath. He exhaled a tinge of disappointment.

“Simple. Females in the witchworld keep their witch-heritage name. Anyone they marry has to suck it up.” Her gaze flitted to his, gauging his reaction to such a momentous statement. Didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Do you know an owl’s watching us from the tree behind us?” he asked. Her fingers trailed lower and reached dangerous territory. He stilled her hand. Not the time, not the place.

“That’s Gwyneira.” She waved at the owl and the owl winked a wide eye at her. “My familiar. She’s watching you. If she sensed evil intent, she’d incapacitate you.” Another small owl crawled out from beneath her sleeve. She flicked her hand, and the white owl flew off her fingers and alighted on his shoulder.

He felt a compulsion to close the short distance, only a strip of air between them. The owl flew back to Sage and disappeared beneath her dress.

“What did you feel?” she asked.

“Magic?” He squinted. “A tingle, a feeling like I had to get closer to you.”

“That’s my summoning familiar. I commanded her to compel you closer.”

“Guess it’s my lucky night that your owl didn’t kill me.” Gravel layered his words. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Itisyour lucky night. You can kiss me all you want.”

As she rose up to meet his lips, people laughing and walking, or more like staggering, on the path alerted them to potential discovery. Cell phone lights bounced on the path and lit up the nearby trees. Sage and Rafael leaped up so fast they staggered into each other, missing knocking each other’s head by a hair.

“Follow me.” Before she darted into the woods to her secret path, Aspen called her name. They confronted her sister and a gaggle of witch friends. All hammered.

“Sage! Ricky’s crawling out of his skin hunting you.” Aspen slurred her words, wobbled between two witches equally unstable on their ridiculous platform heels. “Oh my goddess. Who’s this hottie?” Her gaze slurped Rafael up from his feet to his hair. “Wait. You’re that Rafael dude Zelda’s yakking about. Thought you split.”

“Aspen, shut it,” Sage said under her breath. “Dial it down.”

“Well, sis. You should be dancing and drinking. We’re celebrating your ass too.” Aspen teetered forward, and the girls caught her before she did a face-plant. They all burst out in giggles.

Rafael pivoted his body toward Sage. “Go. It’s your day. The celebration’s about you. Aren’t you supposed to dance around the bonfire, chanting and holding candles with flower wreaths on your heads?” A smile toyed with his lips.

Sage had pulled Rafael from the brink of despair that night. He’d always known he differed from others, although no one ever expressed why. Foster families couldn’t deal with his desperation to fit within the human world. He’d lived in group homes until booted out at eighteen. His background shaped this very moment, and he needed more time with Sage. Maybe a lifetime more.

“Not all’s about me. It’s our normal Summer Solstice festival,” she replied. “And no, we don’t do pagan dancing.” She snickered. “Although we sprinkle ceremonial herbs in the bonfire for kicks, connect with nature by going into the forest, the ocean, or the meadow. All geared to feel the air against our bodies, the warmth of the sun seeping through us, creating a deeper connection to the earth, and letting the salt water cleanse us to prepare us for a new season.”

“Guess I need to attend witch school.”

Excitement in her eyes, she turned to her sister. “Text Ricky. Tell him I’m safe with a trusted warlock.” On that note, she wrenched on Rafael’s hand, and they sprinted down the path toward the mansion. “And quit drinking,” she yelled over her shoulder.

“I’m sober as a judge,” Aspen slurred and giggled.

Gwyneira flew above their heads, hooting and flapping its wings, guiding their way.

“Where’re we going?” he asked. Sage stumbled on the uneven path cutting through the woods, and he caught her before her witch-air dove for the save. Landscape lights provided just enough illumination to avoid offing themselves.

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