Page 55 of Boss Witch

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in a while. She got a cup of wine and a sampling of pie, arranged beautifully on a plate that had been transmuted from a handful of twigs. Once the Lughnasadh ended, all the repurposed goods would return to their original state, sort of like the pumpkin carriage after Cinderella’s ball.

Everything will be fine. I’m sure Gavin’s in town, too far away to notice anything.

Midwestern witches were so crafty that even the locals who lived a mile away had never noticed anything going on under their noses.Everything will be fine, she repeated the silent litany.

“Why so glum?” Suddenly Leanne stood beside her, offering another cup of wine.

From the tingle in her fingers when she took it, the drink must be charmed, but she didn’t even ask. She trusted her coven sister not to feed her anything that would harm her.

“Just a general bad feeling,” she said.

Mustering a smile, she downed the wine and let Leanne convince her to join the games, laughing with the rest of her coven and admiring the unique flowers Priya had developed especially for the occasion. Lilies that bloomed bright red like the deepest rose and then faded to pink as they aged, smelling of jasmine.

Eventually she crossed paths with Danica, who looked happier and more at peace than she had in years. Apparently confronting Gram was like slaying her personal dragon, so she was no longer spiking magic like an untrained wizard in a storybook. On some level, Clem was still mad at her cousin, but she needed to get over it because she hadn’t been lying when she said she forgave her for going off on her own and forsaking the pact.

The whole thing was pointless anyway.

Soon the drink fizzed in her veins, lightening all her burdens, and Clem threw herself into the celebration, funneling her magic for the big ritual that always capped the night. The collective power of all the witches fed into a beautiful whirlwind, snapping with energy in all hues, like a rainbow spun into the shape of a tornado. It broke over her in a glorious wave and it carried a soft fusion of the hopes and dreams of every witch present.

That we’re safe and happy.

That we continue to prosper.

That my garden grows well.

Those wishes whispered in her until she couldn’t help but smile, connecting fully to her community—­more than sisterhood; this was the truest of unions. Slowly, gradually, the power trickled back into the ground, falling into the connecting lines to feed and replenish the earth.

“That was fucking awesome,” Leanne said, wrapping an arm around Clem’s shoulder to give her a one-­armed hug.

“So it was,” she said.

She spotted Barnabas across the way, and he was about to become Clem’s problem, headed in her direction. Thankfully, Mom was walking around with Gram and Gladys on the other side of the festival, but if Barnabas and Allegra crossed paths, there would be drama. Leanne stroked a fingertip down Clem’s face, ever so subtly glazing her with the illusion of being someone else. Barnabas passed by without a second look, and Leanne grinned.

“You deserve a break tonight,” her coven sister said.

Clem wrapped an arm around Leanne in silent gratitude. Choosing to celebrate and affirm life had been a big fucking risk, but some things were worth it.

Thisis worth it.

***

That night, Gavin had a beer with Leonard, who was quickly becoming his best friend in St. Claire.

The old man had a hundred funny stories, and Gavin rather loved listening to how his pursuit of Gladys was going. It seemed the woman had private plans tonight, and Leonard was quite worked up about it.

“I asked her two weeks ago,” he complained. “But no, she’s busy. I ask you, how long in advance do I need to set up a date? I swear to God, I find out Howard’s trying to get her first, I’ll punch him in the mouth.”

Privately, he’d put money on Leonard if the pensioners truly decided to scrap. “That might be excessive,” he murmured.

Leonard scowled at him from beneath thick salt-­and-­pepper brows. “Have you seen Gladys? She’s adorable!”

“But quite often, the git who gets punched receives sympathy and cuddles while the offender is scolded.”

“That’s so true.” Leonard knocked back a good portion of his beer, sighed, and shook his head. “I don’t want to get on her bad side. Gladys sure can hold a grudge.”

“Better to exercise restraint.” It was right at twilight, streetlights coming on. Children streamed home down the sidewalks, shouting to each other as they darted into their houses.

He’d never known anything like that freedom. And maybe it showed, because Leonard said, “What’s eating you, son?”

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