Page 2 of Dragon Her Heels

I had no problems with wrangling gators if it meant having a place to call home without dealing with overbearing landlords, nosy neighbors, and noise.

My money would buy me the stuff of dreams, and I’d work daily to keep it from becoming a nightmare.

My mortgage would work out to be less than my rent in Fort Lauderdale, and I meant to spend the excess on enjoying life. Dyeing my hair and brows black to hide my blonde tendencies would be my first move, and once I’d mastered the gothic queen look, I’d give my wardrobe a makeover.

I focused on the placard mounted along the entry into the court, which flanked the opened gate. “Why does this say this used to be a plantation? It doesn’t look like a plantation.”

Heaving a sigh, my agent referred to his notes. “During the Civil War era, the property had been used as a plantation, providing goods for locals when supply lines had suffered. The property was deemed cursed, and it has maintained that reputation ever since.”

Interesting. “Cursed how?”

“Misfortune comes to all who choose to live here.”

I raised a brow at that. “The previous owner, last I heard, decided that the United States was too dangerous when we discovered we had a dragon. Losing three cities is a big deal, but I don’t see how the previous owner was cursed.”

“He owned numerous properties and businesses in Augusta.”

Ah. While I failed to understand the relation between the losses and the house, I could understand how someone might jump to that conclusion. “Well, I’m not really the superstitious kind, and while I’m a bit of a hedge witch, I’m the kind who views magic as a tool. I’m sorry about his business endeavors, though. I appreciate the warning.”

Mr. Haggart’s expression brightened. “You’re a hedge witch?”

Technically, I could use magic quite a bit better than the average hedge witch, but I tended to keep quiet about my abilities. While neither a shapeshifter nor a lycanthrope, I’d learned the trick of redistributing my mass to take on other shapes, which came in useful when I needed to get places I couldn’t normally go. Equivalent exchange ruled my life when taking on new forms, a complication I took care to respect.

As such, I didn’t change shapes often.

I offered him a smile. “It’s part of why I want this property.” I gestured to the overgrown land. “I’ve just enough skill to discourage weeds from growing, convince the pests to leave my crops alone, and keep my animals from roaming.” That part of my magic would make my life simple.

My chickens wouldn’t roam beyond the property line, predators would leave them alone, and I’d have plenty of eggs to offer to my neighbors in exchange for some goodwill. Everything I’d learned online about the neighborhood indicated crime rates were low, the people were nice enough, and my new home had an entire grove along the lakefront, including pecan, apple, orange, grapefruit, lemon, peach, and cherry trees.

A little magic would spare my crops from disease, poor weather, and anything else that might do them harm. Some magic already existed within the grove, as the four types of apple growing there weren’t suitable for Florida and required chilling each year to thrive.

My statement changed my real estate agent’s tune, and he examined his information packet on the property with more enthusiasm than I’d seen out of him since I’d made it clear I wanted to see the place. “There is a good grove here, and he was working on a berry field as well; he’d invested quite a bit in some practitioners making the land suitable for those ventures. The workings will expire in two years.”

“Let’s start with the grove and the berry field, then. I had known about the grove, but the berry field isn’t on the listing.”

“The berries aren’t producing yet, and most would view them as weeds,” my agent replied before stepping onto the cobbles leading to the house. “According to my notes, the property is broken into several sections with a stone wall separating each section with the house as the primary entry point to the lake.” Mr. Haggart pointed at the barn side of the property. “You can access the lakefront from this side as well. There are flood protections on all the walls, so should a bad hurricane come through, the entire grounds should be safe. The walls extend twenty feet down to a foundation below the cellar level.”

I whistled. “And this place was built in 1601?”

After flipping through his sheets, Mr. Haggart replied, “That’s correct. The lower foundation was added with magic fifty or so years ago. It extends directly to the bedrock, and the flood protections cover all surfaces.”

Well, I would be sleeping comfortably knowing my new home hadn’t been built on sand. “Outside of the curse, why shouldn’t I buy this property?”

“If curses don’t bother you, you don’t mind the lake full of gators and other reptiles, and you’re all right with rangers swinging by to survey for endangered species, there’s nothing wrong with the property. The previous owner wants to cut his losses, and the curse has been enough to drive off the other buyers. He had two inspections done to make certain there was nothing needing to be fixed. I have the inspection results available if you want to review them. You hedge witches don’t mind curses, do you?”

Considering we had the reputation of inflicting them and unraveling them at our leisure, I could understand his point of view—and I even appreciated his reasonings for not wanting me to buy the place. “I don’t mind curses, and if there is one, well, it’ll be the first real curse I’ve seen that wasn’t just a practitioner giving someone a hard time. Now, if you have a practitioner giving someone a hard time, that is something I can handle. I am good at protection charms, and I’m even better at unravels.”

Most didn’t understand unraveling, but I hadn’t yet met a piece of magic I couldn’t dismantle with enough work and access to the right components. I’d skirted death learning my art, but there wasn’t a real hedge witch out there who hadn’t.

The fine balance between life, death, and everything between separated hedge witches from practitioners. Some hedge witches shunned their magic after earning it, unable to accept death’s chill embrace, but I’d gone on to learn and refine my art to better myself and my neighbors.

In time, my home would develop a new reputation, one of prosperity for those who paid me a visit with kindness in their hearts. And, I supposed, the rest would feel my place was cursed.

Some parts of my magic I still failed to control. Perhaps one day I would unlock those secrets as well.

We crossed the court, where Mr. Haggart showed me the garage. A lockbox revealed a set of keys and three fobs, all of which he claimed. One fob opened the garage, one fob controlled the alarm system, and one fob was for the primary gate leading into the property.

Mr. Haggart opened the garage to let us in before disabling the alarm. “There are three other copies of each fob, which the owner’s agent has and will hand over at the signing.”