Page 38 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
“Picture books aren’t really my thing, but maybe they could be. First books start falling at my feet every time I come in here, now the lights are leading me to the back of the shop. I’m starting to think this place has more in common with Honeysuckle House than you let on.”
Florence winced, and Owen responded with a grin. He set the paperback down on the counter and headed off in the direction of the lights. Florence followed, her unsent message to Angela forgotten.
“It’s much safer here than at Honeysuckle House. Or it should be,” she said, making a dig at the shop.
Owen glanced over his shoulder. “No attics catching on fire?”
“Not yet,” Florence said.
They rounded the corner past the wall of children’s characters, the lights leading them beyond the last shelf. Owen stopped short, and Florence had to come up beside him to see what he was staring at.
In front of them stood an open door that usually lay hidden behind a shelf of books. Today it had transformed into a small room, complete with a daybed, a kitchenette, and a love seat situated in front of a coffee table, where a pot of tea sat with steam rising from the spout.
Florence held a hand over her face. She’d told this man she didn’t have a spare room, and now the shop made her out to look like a liar.
“I didn’t know this room was back here,” Owen said.
Florence had tried to keep from oversharing when it came to Owen, but this was something she couldn’t simply explain away. With a heavy sigh she said, “It usually isn’t, but it seems the bookstore doesn’t want you to spend the night in your car.”
And Florence had learned, long ago, when the shop wanted something, it was better not to get in its way.
Chapter Nineteen
Evie, Now
After her tenth text from Florence earlier that day, Evie had silenced her notifications. While she understood her sister had a difficult time coming to the house, Evie had survived the same trauma. Were their roles reversed, she’d have been there for Florence in a heartbeat. She tried to remind herself that it was better Florence hadn’t been there, better she knew nothing of Evie’s discovery.
Not that it changed the way Evie felt about her absence.
Evie sat on Angela’s couch with a slice of pepperoni pizza while they watched a movie of Clara’s choosing. Clara curled up between the two of them and gave a steady stream of commentary throughout the film. As much as Evie tried to respond to her daughter thoughtfully, her thoughts kept straying to her mother’s journal, her mind picking apart the spell as best she could without the pages sitting open in front of her.
Angela reached an arm behind Clara and gently tapped Evie’s shoulder.
“You okay?” she mouthed.
“Distracted,” Evie murmured.
“Soon,” Angela whispered.
When the credits finally started to roll, Evie wanted nothing more than to tuck Clara in and start working through the spell. Onlyafter she made sure Clara brushed her teeth and they read one of Clara’s favorite picture books together did Evie finally get the chance.
She sat on Angela’s couch, going through each line of the page from her mother’s journal. She flipped through her newfound tarot deck to discover it was missing both the temperance and the magician cards. She reached for Clara’s bag, which she’d left beside the couch, and fished out her sister’s deck. She rifled through it until she found the temperance card. It was exactly as she’d remembered it. A woman stood inside the workshop behind Honeysuckle House, where the Caldwell witches dipped their candles. Honeysuckle vines twined around a shelf full of powdered herbs and candle-making supplies. She held a bottle in each hand. Melted wax flowed between them. This card had made Evie certain sharing her magic would protect her family.
“Any luck?” Angela asked as she brought Evie a cup of tea. She sat close enough to Evie that their shoulders almost touched.
“Not yet,” Evie said. “I can’t believe the house burned. We’re just as cursed as we were thirteen years ago. I’m sure Florence is sitting in her shop thinking she was right, ready to say ‘I told you so.’ But for all we know, her decision not to use her magic is the reason this happened.”
Angela rested a hand on Evie’s shoulder, and Evie leaned into her touch.
“Better we know now than in four days,” Angela said. “At least there’s still time to do something.”
“If I can figure out this spell and direct the binding magic to stop whatever is affecting the house, we might have a chance,” Evie said.
“Anything I can do to help, I’m here,” Angela said. “And I know it doesn’t feel like it, but Florence is, too. Maybe if you show her the spell—”
“She made her position clear this afternoon. I have to do this on my own. Knowing her, she’d tell me to burn Mom’s journal and keep everyone away from the house until after the thirteenth.”
“Maybe she’s right,” Angela said. “The way your mom treated you and Florence? You can’t trust her.”
