Page 11 of Love's a Witch
“Oh, you’re getting a babysitter,” Nova singsonged, flicking the back of my hand with her finger.
“I most certainly am not,” I said, glaring at her.
“More like a security detail,” Lyra said, grinning at me. “How very chic.”
“More like assets,” Mandy interjected. The smile stayed cemented in place, but I was beginning to suspect it was taking magick of major proportions to do so. “Having a coven to assist you during your change is a huge asset to any burgeoning witch. That way we can quickly disperse any… abnormalities.”
“Yes, abnormalities. Wouldn’t want that.” Felicity shook her head, hair spilling from her messy bun, and she shoved it back into its scrunchie in a practiced move.
My eyes rounded, horror filling me.
“Bloody hell, Mandy. Have some tact.” Tam leaned forward, snapping her fingers to bring my attention to her. “What Madame President is trying to say is that because we don’t know how your magick is going to manifest, the very least we can do is be here to help—just in case things go a little haywire—and we can corral any… issues… that may arise.”
“And we’re throwing you a cèilidh!” Felicity bounced in her seat, clapping her hands.
“Wait… what?” I gasped. I hated parties where I was the center of attention, let alone parties that required dancing and paying attention to instructions.
“We’ve invited the whole town. The Charms are all very excited,” Felicity continued. “I’ll make banoffee pudding, as it’s the kids’ favorite.”
“Wouldn’t you make Sloane’s favorite? It’s her birthday.” Tam raised an eyebrow, and Felicity’s face fell.
“Oh, sure. Right. Well, Sloane? What’s your favorite birthday treat, then?”
I just gaped at the women, my brain bouncing between potential magickal abnormalities and types of birthday cake.
“How can the whole town be invited to something when you didn’t even know we’d be arriving?” I asked, my mouth finally spitting out a thought.
“It’s not a large town,” Tam said as she finished her coffee. “You’ll learn quickly that people will know when you run out of toilet paper.”
“Delightfulimagery, as always, Tam,” Mandy said, annoyed.
“I’m not wrong—”
“Nevertheless, we can move on. Sloane, please. There’s a small matter of the MacGregor curse. The truth is that your magick will likely misfire when it manifests tomorrow. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, and the Charms are here to assist you during this difficult transition.”
“Are you changing into a werewolf or something?” Nova slanted a look at me, barely constrained glee behind her eyes. “Transitioning and all that.”
“I do love dogs,” I admitted, and she snorted.
“Old Mr. Sturrock accidentally did. Remember that one Samhain?” Felicity shivered, crossing her arms over the large tote she still held in her lap. Maybe it was her emotional support tote, as I’d yet to see her stop hugging it.
“Ladies, if I may?” Broca interjected from the armchair, though it wasn’t really a question. Conversation ceased, and we all turned to look at Broca, who was calmly filing a painted green nail into a point just short of a talon. “Sloane will be delighted to have your assistance tomorrow as she celebrates stepping into her magick. The cèilidh sounds like great fun. It will be the perfect way for the girls to meet everyone in town while also reassuring people that there is nothing to worry about now that we are home.”
“But—”
“And she just loves banoffee pudding, don’t you, Sloane?” Broca gave me such a sharp look that I shrank back into my seat.
Mandy nodded curtly.
“It’s settled, then. We’ll see you tomorrow, ladies, and remember—”
“Never harm, always charm,” Nova sang too sweetly, and Felicity clapped, jumping out of her seat in excitement.
“Oh, goodie, I can’t wait. The kids are going to be so excited. Charm on, witches!” Felicity fluttered her fingers at us, and I internally groaned.
Tam patted my shoulder as she passed, before lecturing Felicity about the sugar levels in the pudding. At the door, Mandy stopped and turned back to us.
“Well, now we have that sorted, I’m sure tomorrow will go swimmingly.” Glaring at the snow that swirled through the front door, Mandy left. I noticed not a single flake dared to land on her pantsuit, and I had to hand it to her—the witch had power. Even if it came in the form of magickal Scotchgard.
