Page 15 of The Trouble With Spells
“Because I can see your aura.” His words were softly spoken, like he didn’t want to say it too loudly even though we were alone in the shop. He ducked his head, his cheeks pinkening like they had before, and then he stepped back, taking his warmth with him. “And I can see and feel that there’s no curse. There’s just a pinch,” he held his thumb and finger together, “of black on the edges of your aura, which is more than likely due to your own emotions and nothing more. Lots of blues and purples, a bit of red and orange. It’s a nice aura actually, very pretty. But there’s no curse. Just a teeny tiny spell that honestly, I’m surprised has even worked.”
That news, said with assurance and confidence from him, should have made me feel much better than it did. Brows knitted together, I was focused on the other thing he had said. “You can see…colors around people?”
He shrugged, “I can see auras, so yeah. Everyone has an aura. They tell a lot about a person.”
“So, when you look at a person, they are just surrounded by different colors? All the time?”
It was oddly fascinating, and I couldn’t believe I was starting to buy into any of this. But I was. For the first time in my nearly thirty-one years, I was starting to believe that witches might be real and reside in Salem. Yep, I was definitely losing it.
What was that like for Callum, to always see people surrounded by colors? Was it strange? Distracting? Had he always seen people like that? Even in school? How did he even focus if he saw people surrounded by colors when he looked at them? Or was it something he had just grown used to? I had so many questions.
He moved back to his spot behind the counter, and I wondered for a second if it was his safe zone. And if he had felt any of the things I had felt when he had touched me.
Get your mind back on the problem at hand, Endicott.
Callum stroked a hand down Hex’s back, petting the cat. “Pretty much. I’ve been able to see people’s auras my entire life. I thought it was normal for the longest time. I mean, I guess it’s notnotnormal, just different.”
Oh, it was definitelynotnormal, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Not to a guy I found attractive and who also might be able to help me with…whateverthiswas.
Callum waved a hand dismissively. “I guess I should have said, for my family it’s normal.”
“So…” I hedged, moving closer to him, “your family?”
It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard the rumors in school about Daphne being a witch. But rumors of witches ran rampant in the halls. I mean, our mascot had been a witch for fuck’s sake. This was Salem. You couldn’t turn around without seeing something witch related. I didn’t begrudge anyone for cashing in on what our town was famous for, but that didn’t mean I believed any of it.
Callum gave me a small grin, and I swear my heart dipped right down to my dick. Because, whoa! That grin did all kinds of things to my insides.
“Mmmm. Well, yeah, we’re witches. The real deal. Not like whoever put that spell on you. Definitely not a born witch.” He gave another small shrug, running his finger over the display case and not meeting my eyes.
Like he hadn’t just announced to the room that he was a witch.
Yes, Salem was famous for our witch trials back in 1692, but that had been a bunch of overzealous people with a mob mentality. Innocent people had died, but I didn’t believe witches were actually real.
Never had.
Not really.
Until now.
Witchcraft had always been nonsense. A bunch of coincidences and things that could all be easily explained away with solid facts.
Now a guy I found extremely attractive had just told me he was a witch, without batting an eye, and that the spell on me wasn’t that powerful.
And a part of me believed him! Or wanted to believe him. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I even believed anymore. The string of absolute bad luck that had taken over my life since thatguyhad muttered thosewordsa few nights ago, had me firmly leaning towards the witches-might-actually-fucking-be-real side of life. Callum talking about auras, curses, spells, oh and the little thing of him and his family beingwitchesso casually, was nearly pushing me right over the line.
“You’re sure I’m not cursed?” I didn’t know why a curse sounded so much worse than a spell. Or why I was even entertaining the idea of either, but I was just going to roll with it. I should probably be walking as quickly as possible for the exit, seeing as Callum had declared himself a witch, but I wasn’t. My feet were rooted firmly to the spot.
He shook his head, “You’re not cursed. There’s a slight trace of a spell. I felt it when I touched you, but it’s not that strong. Whoever cast it isn’t a natural born witch, and likely just starting out. Their spell casting isn’t that great. Either way, it should be fairly easy for Daphne to break. She’s really good at breaking spells. Like the way I can see auras, she can see spells.”
My right eye began to twitch, but I ignored it. “I don’t know what any of that means.”
Callum used his hands to demonstrate, and I found myself strangely transfixed by his long fingers. “All spells have threads, but most people can’t see them. Daphne can, which makes it easy for her to…basically unravel them.”
Sighing with relief, because that seemed simple enough, I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. “Okay, great. So where exactly is Daphne? Is she going to be home soon? Can she break this…spell?”
I had almost said curse again, but I was quickly realizing there was some kind of difference between the two, though I really had no clue what.
Curses…spells…hexes…it all seemed like a bunch of hocus pocus nonsense. Until it had happened to me.
