Page 26 of Love's a Witch
CHAPTER EIGHTSloane
Later that day, I snuck away to enjoy what had begun to be a bit of a tradition for me on my birthday—going to a bookstore.
When I was younger, it had been the library, largely to escape something I hated most at the time—being the center of attention. I’d since grown more comfortable with it, but I certainly wasn’t what someone would call a socialite.
Which was why books were my favorite place to escape to.
Every year on my birthday, I’d buy myself a pretty new journal to document the adventures ahead, and at least five books solely based on how pretty the covers were. It didn’t matter what genre, as I read pretty much everything, so the main criterion I’d set for myself was it had to be pretty and it had to be pricey.
We all had our splurges, and this was mine.
Waving goodbye, Blue having settled down for a nap next to Broca, I zipped up my winter jacket and stepped outside, my eyes going immediately to the sky. Thick clouds tossed snow at my face, a happy birthday to me, I guess, and I pulled a wool cap over my hair. Irrespective of the snow, a calmness filled me for the first time in ages, and I considered the reason as I sauntered the fifteen-minute walk into town.
Truly? It must be because I’d finally figured out my magick. After waiting for this day all these years, the unknown hovering over my head, finally getting my magick felt a bit like a nonevent. An afterthought. I wasn’t even all that deflated, though—in fact, quite the contrary.
Levitation was an easy enough magick that I could understand and be in charge of. Nothing about my life had to change, and I’d have the added bonus of being able to move things about more easily. Or reach for a book on the top shelf.
I nodded a greeting at a few tourists who wore witches’ hats despite the snow, and long wool cloaks. The trees that lined the street had stopped fighting the snow, their leaves shifting from yellow to deep red, falling like drops of blood on white linen, and I whispered a silent apology to them. I knew they’d lose their leaves soon enough, but I hated they’d had to do so early because of our curse.
Passing Mystic Munchies, I waved to the woman with pink braids behind the counter who only glowered at me. The next shop, the Arcane Attic, showcased a variety of cloaks, much like the ones the tourists had just sported, as well as a fun dress with an evil eye–and–lightning bolt pattern scrawled across it. A scarf covered in butterflies and sprinkled with rhinestones was wrapped around a mannequin’s neck, and I grinned at the pair of ruby-red mary janes in the front window. It seemed this was the spot for all one’s witchy wear.
Humming, I stopped in front of the bookshop, painted a deep navy blue. Quill pens were painted on the outside, interspersed between moons and stars, and I looked up to see the name.
The Silver Quill.
A poster for the Halloween costume contest hung in the window, and I crinkled my nose at the huge X across the location and the words marked below it. “Moved inside to the community center.”
That was our fault. I’d been told that Halloween was Briarhaven’s biggest moneymaker when it came to holidays, and typically they had a huge bonfire and tons of festivities around it. The witcheswould celebrate Samhain, and the tourists would celebrate dressing up and getting candy.
The door opened, and I nodded to a few people who bustled out, bags in hand, and slipped inside.
Instantly, I felt at peace.
It was the kind of bookshop one wanted to linger in, where cozy corners held overstuffed chairs and colorful cushions, and fire crackling cheerfully in a small wood-burning stove. Thick, rough-cut wood beams lined the ceiling, the walls were painted that same deep navy as outside, and the bookshelves were in the same rough-hewn wood as the beams above. A thick rug in an intricate pattern of navy, white, and small pops of blush pink was thrown across wide-planked floors, and the woman at the checkout waved to me with one hand while she continued her conversation with her customer. Black hair flowed down her back, and she wore a fuzzy black sweater with a singular white circle on the chest.
The air shimmered around the woman, and I squinted my eyes. Her image blurred, and for a moment, the face of a cat looked back at me.
She was fae.
A cat sith, to be exact.
It appeared my new magick had other aspects I hadn’t considered. Would I now be able to see other magickals more easily? In the past, they’d always have to reveal themselves to me first, but now I could justseethat this woman was not human.
Fascinated, I made myself turn away, lest I be caught staring and give another member of the town reason to be annoyed at me. I breezed over to a display of books that had immediately caught my eye when I’d walked in. Gold foiling shone on the covers, sprayed edges revealed flowers, dragons, and swords, and I almost squealed in delight. They were just so pretty.
Reaching to pick one up, I paused as my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw Lyra’s name and answered, duckingoutside so as not to annoy anyone’s browsing time. Bookshops felt like almost holy places to me.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“The power’s out.” Lyra’s voice held a note of worry, and I straightened.
“What do you mean it’s out? Did you check the box?”
“We did, but it doesn’t seem like anything’s flipped.”
“Was there anything on the news about a power outage?” I glanced around the street, but all the lights shone brightly in the storefront windows.
“Nothing we could find posted on social media. And the neighbors all have power.” There was a note in Lyra’s voice that took me a moment to recognize.
