Page 45 of Minnie: Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

I nod. “Yes.”

Julian keeps driving, and excitement takes flight in my belly. This is it. It’s working. It’s actually working!

Amber and I exchange a huge grin, but a split second later, her face falls. Delphine’s eyes widen, and I feel my nose start to run.

I reach up, and pull away my fingers covered in sticky, red liquid.

“Juli, stop,” Amber cries a split second later. “Turn around. Turn around!”

Nausea hits. I double over with a groan as my stomach cramps and my knees give out. Delphine falls on the floor next to me and reaches for my hands. It gives me hope. Maybe touching her will nullify the curse. Maybe…

But when our hands touch, nothing happens. Then, another wave of pain hits.

“Turn back, Julian. Now!” Amber shouts.

“There’s traffic,” Julian shouts back. “I’m trying.”

Honking echoes through the phone followed by the sound of tires against gravel. And then, the pain disappears as quickly as it came.

“I passed the line,” Julian shouts.

“I know,” I whisper softly. But I feel too drained to get up, or do much of anything except lie on the carpeted floor.

Delphine rubs my back, comforting me, and Amber slowly lowers herself next to us.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks softly.

I nod.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

I nod again.

“I’m sorry, too,” Delphine adds.

“It’s okay. I didn’t really think it would. It’s a powerful curse, and I’ve been told it can only be broken by the witch who cast it…” I tell her. “Actually, that’s not really true.” And I might as well be honest, since she’s literally seen me at my worst. “I got my hopes up. Again. But… if your powers didn’t work, I really don’t think anything will.” Not unless she ever sets me free.

Which is less likely than winning the lottery, which is why I decide that tonight, I’m getting a ticket.

Chapter 23

Minnie

The moment Wes and Natty get back, I settle the boy in the wagon and pull him outside. Of course I’m not looking where I’m going, so I crash straight into the wooden pumpkin spice latte sign that’s in its customary place outside.

It clatters to the ground, the sound echoing down Main Street, and a few people turn to look. None of them are connected to me with a pink rope of magic, so at least my fated mate doesn’t get a front row seat to the Clumsy Minnie Show.

“I can get it,” Natty shouts.

He scrambles out of the wagon, like getting the sign is the most exciting task on the planet. I want to help, but Formula M won’t let me. All I can do is examine my nails like a stuck-up idiot.

Amber chooses that exact moment to stick her head out of the cafe. “Everything okay? I heard a crash.”

She glances at Natty, who grunts as he tries, and fails, to lift the heavy wooden sign. Amber takes a step forward, then changes her mind.

“Wes, honey,” she calls out. “Can I get your help?”

I feel an acute wave of embarrassment, which Formula M does a great job of hiding. Followed by relief that I’m standing around watching the bear shifter help Natty lift the sign, and not the heavily-pregnant Amber.