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My lips twitched as she ran up the path to the old Victorian house. I couldn’t help but feel as if she had taken my heart with her. At least I knew it would be in safe-keeping for now.
13
“Jade! Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to get hit.”
Jolting awake from my lurid daydreams, I narrowly missed an incoming car as Liliane and I reached the strip of witchy shops in downtown Salem. The morning sun felt cool and crisp on my face, and I lifted my head to absorb the sunrays as a wisp of smile curled my lips.
My headwasin the clouds today, blissfully aching after my impulsive evening with Alexei. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like the serious, overprotective witch who most creatures back home considered a passionless killjoy. With Alexei, an inner seductress came alive, basking in the power I held over the Prince of Pleasure, his body mine for the taking.
Liliane barged through the red painted doors of Twisted Broomsticks, dragging me behind her. Salem’s magical emporium embodied utter mayhem. Wares covered the brick walls, from thrifted hats and clothing hanging from decorated hooks, glass cases of mythical objects and figurines imported from around the globe, and chests and armoires filled to the brim with products from the Coven.
I raised my eyebrows at the Zoltar machine stuffed in a corner, and Liliane shrugged. “You’d be surprised how well the corny depictions of witchcraft reel in the mortals.”
It didn’t surprise me in the least. My years spent working at Get Hexed taught me how many humans longed to indulge in their fantasies regarding the supernatural.
“You look around,” Liliane muttered over her shoulder, flouncing through a flimsy curtain. “I’ve got to talk with Diane Winthrop about procuring some elemental chalk and the femur bone of a diseased fox for our spirit casting, but we can explore more after.”
I shook my head at the look a mortal gave her—equal parts horror and intrigue.
From this angle, I could see the thick plume of incense smoke and the tables where witches sat opposite tourists for tarot or palm readings. I circled the shop, halfheartedly lifting items for closer perusal. But my magick called me towards a case at the back of the shop that held a collection of vintage pieces.
A perfume bottle caught my attention, the intricate floral design along the egg-shaped glass as delicate and whimsical as it was dangerous. The dark curse trickling out of the glass was pervasive, even through the thick case.
“Can I see that?” I managed hoarsely at the young witch at the cash register.
She shrugged and lifted it from the case before turning on her heel to help the nearby mortals.
On an inhale, my fingers brushed against the bottle, feeling the sharp bite of dark magick seeking a weakness to infiltrate. Impulsively, I tried to pull my spirit magick forth, testing the limits of the curse and my ability to undo the magick. Like always, without the Amulet of Davorina, my spirit magick moved as slow as syrup until only a few drops surfaced, reaching out for the curse.
My brow misted with sweat as I focused all my attention on breaking the power, feeling the snap it made in retaliation that stung like a barb. I dropped the bottle back onto the counter with a loud clang, and the witch shot me a dark look.
Flushing, I muttered under my breath as I massaged my sore hands.
“What are you planning on using that for?”
I jumped at Genevieve’s sudden closeness, the myrrh and rose fragrance oil she wore stinging my nostrils. Her dark mane was tied back in a loose bun, and a few springs of coiled bangs brushed against her wire-rim glasses.
“Oh, um,” I stuttered uselessly, as she lifted the bottle for closer inspection.
“Must be from the newest shipment. Brit knows to let me or Diane sift through the goods before selling them. If this got out, it would certainly spell trouble for us.”
I blinked dumbly. “You know that it’s a talisman?”
“Duh.” She rolled her copper eyes as her Romanian accent became more pronounced. “Do you not feel it? The dark magick isn’t incredibly powerful like some of the other talismans that have come our way over the years, but it’s there.”
My mind blanked with the realization that she would not only know of talismans, but likely how to manipulate the magick within them or track them.
“Few witches in my Coven study talismans because of the dark magic imbued within them,” I said defensively. “In fact, before this year, I hadn’t seen one in person, other than glimpses of my grandfather’s spelled ring that almost blew our cover in New Orleans.”
Genevieve spared a quick glance at the mortals hovering nearby before she screwed the cap of the perfume bottle tighter so none of its essence would escape. “Not much of our knowledge regarding the talismans is available on a whim. Back home in Brasov, my mother studied the old magicks once performed by the druids, but even she wondered at the mysterious power that creates them.”
After pocketing the secured talisman, she offered, “I could show you more, if you’d like.”
“I would love that,” I managed breathily. “But I’m here with Liliane.”
“Another time then.”
Just then, Liliane popped through the beaded curtains, her arms stacked with satin-wrapped ingredients for our training this afternoon. “You ready to return home, dear? I was thinking we could stop for maple walnut fudge for some sustenance.”
