Page 13 of Boss Witch

“Thank you! Call me when you know about the cottage.” Allegra hung up quickly then.

Which was good for Clem, but…it would be nice if Mom called when she didn’t need something. She couldn’t remember the last time they had a conversation and Mom just wanted to know how she was doing. But that wasn’t how their relationship worked, and Allegra didn’t even seem to realize how backward it was.

Feeling low-­key bummed wouldn’t change anything, though, so she got back to work on the waffle iron. Her phone pinged with a message from Gram, but instead of asking how Clem was doing, she sent:

Have your cousin call me. Feeling a bit hurt. I’ve hardly seen you girls this summer. Normally, you’d have invited me over for a movie night by now.

A while later, Danica arrived—­late again—­and three light bulbs popped overhead. Clem changed them without a word, jaw tight.I will not fight with my cousin. Her life is her own.She didn’t feel great about leaving the shop, however, so Clem stuck around long after she would’ve normally bailed.

Until Danica glared at her. “Would you get out already?” she asked, sounding exasperated. “I’ve got this. I’m calm.”

“Don’t forget to call Gram,” Clem said. “She texted me looking for you.”

It would be nice if one of my relatives contacted me without needing me to do something.Right now, the only relatives not getting on her nerves were Danica’s parents, Auntie Min and Uncle Laurence.

Danica scowled at Clem for passing on the message. “I’ll handle it,” she said.

Yeah, okay.

Clem headed out, the witch hunter problem taking precedence over her family issues.

What am I doing with Gavin? WhatcanI do?

Really, she should learn from Allegra’s mistakes, because once Clem had been Daddy’s little girl, endlessly charmed by his Scottish accent and the variety of houses he owned all over the UK. But then, his girlfriend came to the house, demanding that Mom free him from marital imprisonment and stop using his daughter as a shackle. That was apparently what he’d been telling the girl behind their backs, then he said she was nobody in front of her—­that she meant nothing—­and he didn’t want to lose his family over an indiscretion.

That was the beginning of the end, though the divorce didn’t happen right away; there was a lot more pain to come. At one point, Allegra and Barnabas fought over Clem like she was a toy they didn’t mind breaking. She was so tired of being in the middle of that.

While Danica seemed to envy Clem for allegedly being Gram’s favorite, she wished she had a happy family like Danica. Clem always had two sets of parents, along with a series of ex-­stepmothers and stepsiblings across the pond, some of whom tried to stay in touch, and fuck, it was all so exhausting. She ignored Barnabas’s latest nonsense when it pinged her phone in email form. Since she’d blocked his number, maybe she should blacklist his email too? He would probably try from another account, though.

Meanwhile, Danica was staring at her with her arms folded across her chest, a sure sign she felt defensive. “Are you okay? You look more stressed than usual.”

“Of course, I’m stressed,” Clem snapped. “There is literally a witch hunter in town…” She managed to swallow the “because of you,” though she thought it would be reasonable if she had said it. “Gram is demanding attention, I’ve got my own family stuff to deal with, and I’m taking up the slack at the shop. I’mtired.”

In all honesty, the game she was running on Gavin offered the only real respite from a whole slew of problems.How screwed up is that?

“Things are tough for me too,” Danica said. “You don’t understand—­”

“What you’re going through?” Clem finished tightly. “I think I understand pretty well. You’re putting all of us at risk, and for what? A fling? A chance to rebel? The rest of the coven won’t call you on your bullshit, butIwill.”

Her cousin flinched. “That’s not fair. I didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”

“You know what they say about good intentions. I broke up with Spencer for you when you were crying over Darryl, remember? The asshole you dated to make Gram happy. And I was there to pick up the pieces when things went sideways, like Ialwaysam.”

“Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel.” The sarcasm was thick enough to be spread on a cake.

Given Danica’s tone, Clem figured there was no point in dragging this out. “Lately you don’t listen to a word I say, so I’m probably wasting my breath.”

Her cousin hunched her shoulders, and tears spilled down her cheeks. Yeah, this was why Clem seldom opened up: Danica thought her frankness bordered on mean. And maybe she was right. But Clem saw no point in lying; if someone close asked how she was doing, she’d give an honest answer.

“You should go,” Danica said in a subdued voice. “I’ll take care of the shop.”

Possibly I’m an asshole, but if you don’t want my real opinion, don’t ask for it.

Clem convinced herself that Danica was fine. She had errands to run, starting with a visit to Ethel. To figure out how to throw Gavin off their scent, she needed more data. She usually had the car, though she ostensibly shared it with her cousin. Danica liked riding her vintage bike around in lieu of more taxing exercise, and that worked out for Clem. The best thing about being a technomancer was taking some absolute piece of junk and transforming it to mint condition via magic. She’d suggested they expand their business to include cars, but Danica feared that such big-­ticket items would draw unwelcome attention in addition to offering a higher profit margin, and she was probably right.

Clem put her worries about Fix-­it Witches aside and backed out of her parking space. A ten-­minute drive from the shop, Ethel lived near Vanessa at the end of a cul de sac. Most of the houses were typically Midwestern, a variety of ranch style with attached garage or Craftsman with parking detached. A few had long, Southern porches, sporting wooden swings and the ubiquitous American flag.

Ethel lived in a cozy bungalow painted forest green and trimmed in white. The elder witch had a rattan patio set on her front porch instead of a swing, complete with floral cushions. She’d also installed netting so she could enjoy summer nights without getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, and she had a profusion of plants she kept alive through a natural green thumb with occasional infusions of vitality courtesy of Priya or Kerry. At this point in the summer, they were blooming wildly, red and yellow, white and purple, long vines streaming from clay planters, metal pots, and hanging baskets.

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