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My magical abilities weren’t bibbity, bobbity, boo – voila, magic. I was learning to work with energy. To seek and request it and then direct it along with my spells and sometimes potions to hope for the desired outcome. We used crystals, candles, herbs and spices. We practiced with intent. Good intentions. We tried to give more than we took. We didn’t try to hurt people and we were told that though we could help dispense bad karma, so to speak, we had to be sure about it before doing it or it could come back on us. Magic didn’t always happen straight away. And it didn’t always go the way we wanted it to. Sometimes spells were perfect, and things didn’t work out. Sometimes you got more than you bargained for. Sometimes I had to pay tolls for things I did. Sometimes people who benefited from my magic had to pay those tolls. I was warned that sometimes a screw-up happened and it could have a domino effect, so it was important to be cautious.
If you didn’t have goodwill banked from your deeds you might not have success gathering energy. If you asked for energy, you could also be denied with or without reason. It would be a crap shoot. But between the wine giving me all the confidence in the world and the magnetic force of that magical tree, I was going to try.
I knew I was in the forbidden woods. These woods that were haunted by the energy of a man who’d never got to live out what fate had promised him via one of my ancestors.
Auntie told me how bad of an idea it was to work against fate, how hard fate would push back. For some reason, it didn’t work for Holden Holloway, the angry being who haunted the woods. I felt very drawn to Holden’s story, and I would later learn why.
Under that grand tree, I tipped out the contents of one of Aunt Lyrica’s tote bags filled with the ingredients I’d brought.
I mixed up my chosen items in one of my small clay bowls.
Beet root powder, often used in love spells. I added clove powder as it’s an aphrodisiac. I dumped in some mugwort, honeysuckle, and hibiscus which all attract love and lust before I sprinkled in some smoked paprika for maximum magic enhancement.
I lit a candle, dug my toes into the grass and arranged some specific crystals of mine while I meditated, using my wand and the corn straw from the broom I’d brought to mix the concoction. After mixing it counterclockwise three times, I carefully pulled one of my hairs and along with the stalk of straw, tied both into a knot around Lovers and Two of Cups cards. I didn’t have anything else that represented him, but he’d touched my steering wheel. The cornstalk held Aunt Lyrica’s juju, too, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.
I was wrong. I wouldn’t find out until later that one should never, ever fuck with another witch’s broom without extreme caution.
I meditated on the fact I wanted Riley to be my happily-ever-after. I wanted to be his mate. To be only his. For him to be just mine. I gave my wish to the tree, who sent it to the earth and the sky for me. And I touched the tree trunk, giving my thanks while hoping it would be so.
But what I didn’t know was that Riley wouldn’t choose his mate. Fate would. And it had already chosen me. I didn’t know I’d get what I wanted if I’d exerted patience and waited for our turn.
Again, patience was never my strong suit. My lack thereof was going to be my downfall. And Riley’s.
After casting the spell, I hung out and felt like I was sharing energy with the tree. It was immensely beautiful and intoxicating. Adding that to the wine I’d consumed, I was pretty dang drunk.
By the time the sun was coming up, I was still feeling the effects and decided to hide my implements in the bushes and keep walking. See if I could find my way to that magnolia tree where I’d first seen him. Maybe I’d see him on the way to or from a wolf run. Maybe he’d take one look at me, and it’d be the beginning of our happily-ever-after. But then I got sidetracked by the sunrise and the biggest, most beautiful field of wildflowers I’d ever seen.
19
Riley
Seven Years Ago
My father asked me to quote a small job on the old water tower road leading to The Hollow. Somebody wanted a quote for a retaining wall and a fence on a wood lot. I got there and found it had nothing but a dilapidated shed on it with a couple hunter tree stands. They wanted us to put together the quote at a quarter to eight in the morning. On the dot. An oddly specific request especially considering there was nobody here to meet me while I did it.
