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“Nope, the mother gave it to her.” Else shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Not sure why you’re worried. Selene looked badass.”
Mags threw her head back and howled with laughter so hard I thought she was going to rupture something. Iris joined in.
Rose offered me a sympathetic look. “It might not happen.”
Chapter 3
Willow
Business was slow today, and I wandered around my shop mindlessly straightening products on the shelves. Everything I sold at the front of the store was harmless. I stored Else’s potions and elixirs out back. When someone came in looking for help, I treated them like a doctor would a patient. They needed a consultation first. You couldn’t just hand that shit out willy-nilly without all the relevant information, or things could go seriously awry.
The bell jingled above the door, and I smiled at the woman who walked in. She averted her eyes and headed to one of the shelves.
“Can I help you with anything?”
She shook her head, her hair a little wild, her hands shaking as she picked up bottles and sightlessly stared at labels.
Something was off.
I waited for my blade to warn me. It remained still.
When a witch turned thirteen and they begin to learn more complicated magic, they are given a dagger. Especially witches who use blood to spell. Not all did, but our coven, which was made up of close and extended family, scattered all over the country, frequently used blood magic. When I became the Keeper, one of the gifts I received from the mother was making my dagger more useful, as well as the nice boost in power she’d given us.
Now it warned me of danger, and the strength of that warning correlated with the scale of the threat. It also increased my ability to fight, passing on the skills and knowledge of Keepers past.
It was an extremely cool gift, and I’d been more than grateful for it many times over the last year.
Although my ancestors had some serious moves, I’d been training as well, taking advanced fighting classes. I needed to be unstoppable. No one would hurt me again. But more importantly, no one would hurt my family or someone else I cared about.
I glanced at the woman again. Her eyes were wide, and there was no missing the look of desperation. “Are you sure you don’t need some help?”
She eyed me from the other side of the room. “Are we alone?”
Still no warning from my blade. “Yes, is everything all right?”
A tingling sensation danced over my ribs. It started gently at first, the tattoo-like vines growing warm in a familiar way under my skin.
My task.
Whatever this woman was about to tell me, I had to help her.
“You’re a witch, aren’t you? I mean, you sell all this…witchy stuff, and you look like…” She motioned to me, waving her hand about. “That. I don’t believe in any of this bullshit…well, I didn’t.” She shoved her fingers through her graying dark hair, and she was shaking, badly. “I’ve been to our church, and they think I’ve lost my mind, and I…I didn’t know where else to go. Witches, they can perform exorcisms, right? I googled it and that’s what it said…”
I lifted my hands to get her to slow down. She flinched. “You have nothing to fear from me.” I motioned to the door. “I’m going to close the shop, and we’re going to have a cup of tea and a chat. Whatever is worrying you, maybe I can help, okay?”
She nodded and took a big step away from me as I walked to the door to flick the lock and flip the sign to closed. Then I led her to my kitchen behind the shop. I lived back here most of the time, but lately I’d been staying with my family, in my old bedroom, since things were so volatile.
I turned on the kettle and pulled a chair out from the table. “Take a seat while I make the tea.”
She perched on the edge of the chair as if coming into contact with too much of it might give her witch cooties. Or maybe she thought it’s where I chopped up my eye of newt, frog’s toes, and bat’s wings? They weren’t actual ingredients we used. Of course, I’d chopped up a few other things on that table that were pretty disgusting, including harvesting demon organs from a fucker who broke into my shop. But she didn’t need to know that.
I steeped the tea, adding a few extra herbs to hers that would help her calm down, added a little honey and a squeeze of lemon, and slid it across the table, making sure not to get too close. The last thing I wanted was to spook her and have her run off.
I sat as well and took a sip of my tea first, showing her that I hadn’t poisoned it, and no, she wouldn’t turn into a toad or something if she drank it, and waited for her to do the same. She watched me, then finally lifted the cup shakily to her lips and sipped. Surprise crossed her face. Yes, my tea was good, really good. After a few more sips, she’d visibly calmed.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” I said and smiled.
She blinked a couple of times, studying me, still wary.