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The wind whipped in from the ocean, chilling Cecily as she sat on the still-damp sand. Although the rain had finally stopped, the skies overhead remained ominously clouded, without any stars.
Her mother’s Book of Shadows sat next to her on a beach towel. Although it wasn’t decorated as elaborately as some witches preferred—Mom liked to keep things simple—the book possessed a kind of power just sitting there. Maybe it was Cecily’s imagination, but the pale gray cover seemed to glow a little even without any moonlight.
She could have done this research inside, but that would have been too comfortable: warm and cozy with a lamp to read by. The temptation to discover all of Mom’s spells would’ve been too great. Cecily didn’t feel guilty for stealing the Book of Shadows, because this was important, but she would lose the moral high ground if she abused this opportunity.
Besides, being out of the cramped house with its silly decorations was a good thing. Cecily found the cool night air and the roaring ocean clarified her thinking. For instance, she’d stopped reveling in the shame this would cause Kathleen and worrying about how Mom would react when she found out about the unauthorized use of her Book of Shadows. Instead Cecily was thinking about Scott.
What will the end of the enchantment be like for him? she wondered. The Book of Shadows didn’t say. Will he simply not care much about Kathleen anymore, and wonder what he ever saw in her? Or will it be more dramatic than that? And if it is dramatic, will he realize he’s been enchanted?
Cecily had been the subject of some harmless enchantments a few times; that was a standard part of a witch’s education, finding out how it felt. When the enchantment broke, the feeling was unmistakable: as sudden and powerful as the drop in a roller coaster after it had climbed a hill. You came smashing down to earth, and you knew that something unnatural had just happened to you.
Even somebody who had never heard of the Craft might well understand that they’d been the subject of magic. That was one reason enchantments were to be used sparingly, if at all.
If Scott realized the truth, then what?
Probably there was an answer lurking deep within the pages of Mom’s Book of Shadows, but Cecily wasn’t going to look for it. In her heart she had always believed that men could hear and accept the truth about witchcraft. (Maybe not all men—but all women couldn’t hear it either, could they?) Somehow her mother could live with lying to her father forever and ever, but Cecily had never wanted that for herself.
The guy of her dreams—the chef who wanted to open a restaurant with her—he would know not only that Cecily practiced the Craft, but would also see how amazing it was. He would be proud of her power. He would support her no matter what.
Could Scott actually be that guy?
Her heart thumped crazily in her chest. One way or another Cecily was going to find out.
The next morning wasn’t sunny exactly, but at least it wasn’t raining. Despite the chill in the air and the thick cloud cover, pretty much everyone headed to the beach. Theo ran down the hallway in his swim trunks and neon green flippers, yelling, “Cecily! You have to go swimming with us!”
“I’ll catch up,” Cecily promised as she shimmied into her black bikini. “It won’t be long.”
She stared at herself in the mirror. Had she once been afraid of something as little as wearing a swimsuit? Compared to what was at stake today that seemed so small.
Besides—she looked good.
Cecily sauntered out of her room, acting casual, with a large beach towel folded over one arm in such a way that it disguised what she was holding in her hand: the spray bottle, which was filled with an all but complete elixir for the disenchantment spell.
Already the house was almost empty—except for Scott, who was rubbing sunblock on his shoulders. It took all Cecily’s self-control not to ask him if he needed help. “Hey,” he said. “Kathleen and I are about to hit the beach. Want to join us?”
“She doesn’t want to!” Kathleen yelled from her room.
Cecily smiled. “I think it’s a little cold for a dip in the ocean, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but there’s no way I’m spending a week on the Outer Banks without going swimming once,” Scott said. He glanced at her bikini—just a glance—but it was encouraging.
Casually, as if the idea had only just occurred to her, Cecily said, “Hey, what about the hot tub on the deck? Warm water, Jacuzzi jets—way better than freezing our butts off in the surf.”
Scott had a slow, warm smile that made her feel sort of gooey inside. “You know, that sounds great.”
“You and Kathleen get comfortable. I have to check on Theo, but I’ll stop by the hot tub on my way out.”
Cauldron—check.
She walked toward the wet bar but glanced over her shoulder to see Scott headed toward the deck. Never before had she realized even a guy’s back could be sexy.
Not that Kathleen wasn’t one hundred percent evil to do this to you, she thought, but I do at least get her motivation.
Once they were outside Cecily got to work. Corkscrews looked simple enough to use, but she’d never attempted to handle one before, so opening the red wine took much longer than she’d planned. The delay made the process even more suspenseful. If her mother walked in and saw Cecily uncorking a bottle of booze, she wouldn’t get a chance to explain why she really needed it. She wouldn’t survive that long.
Finally the cork slid loose with a pop. The red wine smelled sort of stinky to Cecily—maybe this stuff had gone to vinegar. Probably it wouldn’t matter for the spell, though.
She poured a thin stream of wine into the spray bottle. A wisp of periwinkle blue smoke drifted upward, glittering and eerie.
