Be Careful What You Witch For

“Why would they argue about a grimoire?”

 

 

“Dylan wondered the same thing. He walked down the hallway so he could see what they were doing in the living room. The volume was ancient and falling apart, like an old family Bible. My dad was showing Rafe something toward the back and then he slammed it shut and said, ‘You’re done.’”

 

I sat back on the couch. It sounded like a threat, but Elliot was one of the gentlest people I had ever known.

 

“What do you think it meant?”

 

“Dylan thought there was a spell in the book and my dad was threatening Rafe with it. But now he has a new theory—” Diana’s phone buzzed in her pocket.

 

Her eyes grew wide when she answered. “We’ll be right there.”

 

 

 

 

 

8

 

 

 

Diana and I flew out her front door and got in the Jeep.

 

“I thought we had to be there by ten. I got up early. . . .” Seth let his complaints trail off when he saw our faces.

 

“We lost track of time,” I said.

 

“We’re really late,” Diana said.

 

Seth slumped in the backseat and plugged in his earbuds.

 

“Bethany is freaking out,” Diana said. “She says it feels like the whole festival is at the booth. Most of them are asking about Rafe and whether it’s true that he was murdered. The few real customers are getting irritated at the long line.” Diana chewed on her thumbnail. She was a consummate professional, but the weeks leading up to the festival had taxed her organizational skills. I knew she was mentally beating herself up for leaving Bethany to fend for herself. I also knew better than to point out that the festival had been fantastic, with the highest attendance in ten years.

 

“What about your other assistant?”

 

“Skye hasn’t shown up and Bethany can’t reach her by phone.”

 

I focused on the road and drove as fast as I could.

 

When we arrived, I had barely stopped the Jeep before Diana jumped out and made her way to her booth. Seth and I followed with the dogs.

 

Bethany had not been exaggerating. The line leading up to Diana’s booth snaked past several other tables selling everything from pumpkin pies to wands to corn husk dolls. She pushed her way through the crowd to where Bethany, a blonde, plump, twenty-something, stood, trying to placate a customer and get the line to move along.

 

Diana stepped in and took over. I told Seth we should spread out along the table and gestured at the next in line to move forward.

 

“Dude, I just got here last night. I don’t know anything about Rafe Godwin,” Seth said to the fourth person who had quizzed him. He handed the man his bag and said, “That’ll be twelve dollars.”

 

After about half an hour of all four of us taking orders and sending the merely curious on their way, the line had died down to just a couple of people who were still deciding on their purchases.

 

“Bethany, I’m so sorry you were dealing with that all alone.” Diana pushed a handful of curls off her forehead.

 

“No prob. They were here when I came to open up—it would have been crazy no matter what. I just got worried when you didn’t show up on time. You’re never late.” Bethany made change for a lady who bought a lapis bracelet.

 

Seth sidled down to our end of the table. “I think you should take this one,” he said, his face reddening.

 

Diana nodded and slid down to the middle-aged woman.

 

“What’s up?” I said to Seth, and nodded at the customer.

 

“Nothing,” he said. He leaned toward me and whispered, “She wants something to stabilize her hormones.” He scrunched his nose. “I don’t want to know about her hormones.”

 

I looked away so he wouldn’t see my smile.

 

After the menopausal customer left, Diana and I straightened up the booth, which looked like a windstorm had blown through. We went to the back of the stall to get more stock.

 

“Hi. Can I help you?” Seth’s voice sounded deeper and I turned to see who had caused the modulation.

 

“I work here. I’m late.” The girl brushed past him to put her bag under the table.

 

Seth’s mouth hung open. I tried to think of a subtle signal to tell him to shut it before he started drooling, when the girl stood up and turned toward him. He clamped his jaw shut.

 

“I’m Skye,” she said.

 

Seth nodded and pretended to be interested in the crystal balls on the table.

 

“I’m Seth.”

 

Skye spotted Diana and me and came to the back of the booth. When she approached, I realized what had Seth so tongue-tied. She had bright blue eyes in a delicately perfect face framed by dark wavy hair. She was mesmerizing—I couldn’t stop staring.

 

“Diana, I’m so sorry I’m late. My mom insisted I go to church with her.” Her words came out in a rush. “She’s been acting like a lunatic since Rafe died. She hopes I’ll leave the coven now.” I was surprised when, rather than scolding her for leaving everyone in the lurch, Diana pulled her into a hug.