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  He peered over his shoulder at my so-called meal, sniffing the air with a wince. "Hm. Well, bon appetit, I guess. Sherry rustled me up some tasty hash brown casserole this morning! I gotta admit, it's nice having my old woman at home in the morning to cook for me again. Back when she was working at the school, I never had the chance. It was either cereal or toast, and let me tell ya, I'm not exactly charmed in the cooking department, " he chuckled, yanking open the microwave before shoving his container of food inside. “Wait a minute.” He slammed the microwave shut and glared around the room at the two other people sitting there. Both Harry from Accounting, and our receptionist, Sarah, were quickly shoving food into their own bags before high-tailing it out of the room. Suspiciously enough, a few popcorn kernels fell from Harry’s lap but he fled the scene of the crime so fast that Henry barely had a chance to gripe at him about it.

  He mumbled something about incompetence in the workplace under his breath.

  The scent of warm hash brown casserole filled the staff room, and even as other people filed in to grab their own food, they couldn't help but comment on how delicious it smelled. I frowned as I looked down at my own food, wishing there was a way for me to somehow trade with Henry. Where could I get someone to cook me breakfast in the mornings?

  "Ahem," someone cleared their throat behind me, standing a little too close for comfort. Was everyone trying to scare the bejeezus out of me today?

  I turned around, hoping the smell of my bland chili wasn't too off-putting, before my eyes widened. "Aunt Bedelia? What are you — what are you doing here?" I whispered, quickly swallowing my food until it was a solid barely-chewed lump in my esophagus. Ouch.

  "Always the tone of surprise with you, Gwennie-Bee," she giggled, pulling me in for a tight squeeze. Tall and willowy, she towered over me in her brightly-colored dress and scarf. She pushed her sunglasses up past her forehead, revealing finely-lined twinkling dark blue eyes—the Brady gene hard at work. "Why is it you never seem happy to see me?"

  Maybe because every time I saw my aunt when she just so happened to pop in for a visit, she brought bad news? Last time she had unceremoniously revealed not only herself but the entirety of the magical world to my daughter at the beginning of summer. Not to mention she was coming to tell me about my younger brother, Tristan, who had been missing.

  And since my Aunt Bee was such a talented mind-reader, she gave me a half frown, patting my shoulder consolingly. "Oh no, no, no. Nothing like that, dear. I only wanted to see when you were coming to visit, that's all. Though now that you mention it, your brother is going a little stir-crazy inside the manor house."

  I hadn’t mentioned it actually.

  I glanced around the room, making sure no one was really paying attention to our conversation or why this random oddly dressed woman was suddenly in our midst. "Uncle Gardner still has him on house arrest, huh?"

  She nodded. "And as you can imagine, Tristan is none too pleased. He only brought it on himself though," she sniffed. Anyone who knew my aunt knew of her huge soft spot when it came to my brother. If she hadn't been trying to find a way around his sentence of house arrest for the time being—trying to find some kind of loophole to get him out of there—I would’ve been surprised.

  "Okay . . . so you're wanting to know when I'm coming to visit, then?"

  It was true that I couldn't exactly get phone calls from Aunt Bedelia's place, though it seemed an oddly formal request given that she had actually shown up to request it.

  Aunt Bedelia simply smiled. "Yes, of course we want you and Fiona-Leigh to come visit us. We happen to know that you had some time away from work coming up soon and—"

  I smacked my forehead. "And I don't suppose this came from Uncle Gardner’s special resources, did it?"

  My Uncle Gardner was the head of the MARC, or Magical Acts & Regulation Control, where I’d thought I would one day work for the rest of my life as a skilled Shadow Hand — the most elite equivalent of magical law enforcement. He had spies all over the darn place, it seemed.

  "Something like that. And I thought that maybe Fiona-Leigh would enjoy some time with us. I know she's probably been chomping at the bit to come back. She was very adamant about not going back home last time we spoke."

  I could only imagine just how gleeful my whole family would be if they knew how much of an issue I'd been having with Fiona-Leigh and wanting her to stay put in Midnight Pitch with me. Seeing where this conversation was headed, I tugged at Aunt Bedelia’s hand so that she would follow me back out into the hallway.

  "I'm sure she would be happy to come, but she has school to think about now."

  There was an obvious droop in the excitement on my aunt’s face over the word ‘school.’ "Oh? She started back so soon?"

  I let out a humorless laugh. Leave it to Bedelia Brady to pout about school. The woman had dropped out as early as possible to go ‘live her life as the free spirit she was,’ when she was not much older than Fi. I treasured my aunt dearly, but she wasn’t exactly the poster child for the Stay in School movement. "Yes, Aunt Bee. She’s still a child, you know."

  And of course, she waved me off as if I were the one being silly. "I know that, Gwennie! I only thought that maybe I could indulge her in a bit more of downtime at home, but if she's already gone back to school . . . I don't suppose you’ve thought about maybe transferring —"

  I held up my hand immediately. "Let me stop you right there. Aunt Bedelia I love you, but please, for the love of Merlin, do not start this argument with me. I'm over it, I really am. We live here now, not in –" I dropped my voice to a low whisper, "Spell Haven."

  I didn't know whose face had worn the bigger pout—my daughter’s or my aunt’s. Looking at Aunt Bee and the way she seemed so hopeful stung something deep inside of me. I didn’t need to be a powerful Siren mind-reader like her to know what she was thinking about. All those years she missed from both me and Fiona-Leigh’s lives were floating to the surface as if reflected on a dark pool of water. Her eyes reminded me so much of both my father’s and Fiona-Leigh’s.

  "Well, what if she just comes for a few days? Does she go to school during the entire week, every single day? That seems oddly repugnant for human children to deal with. I hear their patience is even worse than Witchlings."

  I rolled my eyes. "No, of course not. She has the weekends off. Saturdays and Sundays. But even then, that's not very much time to take off and go to Spell Haven."

  “I see.”

  It was too difficult to meet her eyes at first because I didn’t want to get suckered into anything, but when I did, the expression on her face reminded me of something else. Of the moment when I’d told her I was thinking of leaving Spell Haven in the first place all those years ago…

  And just like that, I was done for. "Okay, fine. We'll stay for a few days. A few days, all right? No more than that. And I can't just have you randomly popping up in my office anymore either, Aunt Bee."

  Her somber tone turned cheerful immediately. "Yes, yes, I hear you. Wonderful news though, darling, I'm so glad that you’ve changed your mind! And when shall we be expecting you at the manor?"

  I squinted, trying to recall the dates of my vacation time. "I'll have to get back to you on that. But not this weekend," I said closing my eyes as she started to speak. "After the sass your grandniece put me through the past couple of days, I'm thinking she deserves a little bit of a timeout. But then . . . we'll see. I'll let you know."

  She leaned in for another tight squeeze and gave me a kiss on my cheek before letting out a quiet squeal. "Oh, I'm so anxious to have you back! I hate being so far away from you now that we have you again in our lives."

  It seemed like a simple enough thing to say, but it really dug in deep as she slid her sunglasses back down over her beakish nose with a smile and turned on her heel to leave.

  There was just no getting around it. It looked like I was never going to be able to make up for the lost years with my family. Not with them, and not with Fiona-Leigh.
And just as bad? I was still a sucker, regardless.

  3

  Warts and Whatnot

  Several head shots and one ribbon-cutting ceremony at the brand-new coffee shop in town later… I was wrapping up the last of my edited photos at work before sending them off to G for final approval. The Union Gazette building would barely be a blip on my radar for the next three weeks.

  After promising Aunt Bedelia that I’d make my appearance in Spell Haven soon enough, I wasn't exactly sure of what to do with Fiona-Leigh over the weekend. I didn’t want to cave so easily and give her what she wanted while she seemed so hell-bent on making a more permanent move to Spell Haven, but I knew I wasn't comfortable letting her stay here at home on her own yet, either. Luckily for me, I had a little plucky blonde and unknowing ally.

  Complete with her usual gray beanie and ripped up jeans and skateboard, Marina Peterson had knocked on our door after school earlier, making my job a heck of a lot easier. She’d come over and asked if Fiona-Leigh was allowed to come stay the night at her place, dropping a not-so-subtle hint by admitting that her Uncle Sully would drive them there.

  Of course, at the mention of his name I had to look away. My face had been redder than Fi’s hair. Both of them begged and pleaded with me to say yes, though this time I was totally willing to give in.

  "I suppose so,” I’d said, making it sound as if they’d won a lengthy argument. “Just make sure you check with Sully to see if he can give you a ride there—I don’t want you two to just assume he will."

  I’d thrown my purse over my shoulder, searching my pockets for my keys when Fiona-Leigh had looked at me funny.

  "Where are you going?"

  After a rain cloud in the middle of our kitchen table, a floating bed and a hair brush that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be three times too big or three times too small, I had figured she could do with one normal weekend with her best friend for starters. I didn’t need to mention checking out the magic leak at the other end of the spectrum… yet.

  "Just out. We need some groceries and I was thinking about maybe going to the bookstore."

  Her freckled nose had crinkled. "The bookstore? For what? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you willingly go there unless I dragged you along with me.”

  "Hey, I read! Sometimes,” I had added with a hint of indignation.

  Once they’d had their laughs at my expense, I shooed them out and ended up collapsing into the chair, rubbing at my temples.

  Out of the corner of my eye, a furry black something scurried across the room causing me to jump. Maybe it would be a good time to work on my detection skills. Clearly, I need to.

  "Oisín? Is that you?"

  He gracefully leapt up on the arm of the chair, leveling his yellow-eyed gaze at me. "Were you expecting someone else? I know your secret love’s head looks as though a black poodle were sitting atop it and all, but I doubt you confused me for him.”

  I rolled my eyes. "Sorry . . . I’ve just never see you move that fast. What's got you in a rush?"

  "I thought I'd give chase to a mouse I heard scurrying around in the kitchen," he said with a smug grin, showcasing the pointy ends of his teeth. "I could certainly do with a fresh meal, after all."

  "Ugh, a mouse? You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, dropping my head into my hand. “You know, for someone who spent a long time being a powerful Witch, you really have taken a shining to the feline life. Hairballs and all.”

  He inspected a lone claw that slipped out of his dark paw. “And most other people pay for their pest control.”

  He had a good point.

  “Just make sure it's outside of the house before you do anything crazy. I really don't want to see any animal entrails lying around the kitchen. Again."

  Oisín simply turned his head, licking at his silky fur coat. "If you insist."

  He jumped down and I drummed my fingers along the edge of the chair, still debating when I wanted to bring up the possible magic leak here in the Human Realm to my uncle. Something needed to be done about it, of that much I was certain.

  The long drive to the gateway that led into the Other Realm was a quiet one with no one sitting shotgun next to me. I made it all the way up past the Tennessee state line, a few miles in before pulling off the side of narrow road that cut between the forest. I ended up at the particular bent tree that brought back some not-so-kind memories, and walked half a mile into the woods with my phone in hand, before coming across the familiar rickety, abandoned cabin. On the backside of it held the only gateway between the Human Realm and the Other Realm within hundreds of miles of me. My poor brand-new Selkie-skin boots were caked with mud and my hair was frizzy and damp from all of the mist in the woods by the time I slumped against the moldy wood. The gateway’s blast of shimmering energy hummed as I entered it.

  Stepping into my home realm really was like stepping into an entirely new world. The air was warm, meaning the Fairies must have been in good spirits and leaves crunched underneath my soggy feet, signaling that the changing season was upon Spell Haven as well.

  Truth be told, I definitely wouldn't have minded it if I could just magically appear here from the comfort of my own living room. But of course, that's not how magic works, at least not how it's supposed to work. Aunt Bee certainly had her way with getting her younger brother to let her take the only-for-emergencies Portal for a ride whenever she wanted, though.

  I shoved my hands into my cloak pockets, trying to scrounge up some money as my stomach rumbled. How did I manage to forget lunch? All I pulled out was a five-dollar bill and some change, but here in Spell Haven that just wasn't going to cut it. Luckily for me, I happen to have pretty good connections…

  The overhang of gray boulders that hid the gateway below it turned into a well-worn path that stretched out and led into the heart of Spell Haven. I walked along it, spotting the small cottages starting to crowd together more and more the closer I got to downtown. Wreaths of leaves and pine cones, pumpkins carved with silly faces and enchanted floating candles adorned practically every door and porch around me, giving the main road an airy Autumn feeling.

  I imagined taking a picture here and showing it off to friends at work (not that it was even possible for my camera to work here). The younger girls in my office considered themselves as “basic" and would absolutely scream at the sight of Spell Haven in all its magical glory. With or without the pumpkin spice lattes.

  The Apothecarium in town had been in my family for many generations, and in fact at one point even my own mother, Maureen Brady, had run it. Now it was entrusted to Aunt Bedelia, and even though I was several shops down from it, the heavy scent of herbs and spices permeated the air.

  A worn, wooden sign simply reading “Apothecarium,” swayed in the breeze above my head as I stood outside the place. When my mother had worked here, there was a little bell that rang out over the door whenever someone entered, but Aunt Bedelia claimed to be weary of it and had taken it down. It was still odd even after all these years, not to hear it as I opened the door to the shop.

  Inside was an entire other world. The shop had an old, dark look that was enough to make anyone second-guess themselves within it. Wire racks hung from the ceiling where bunches of lavender, marigold, yarrow, and rue were hanging upside-down to dry. Wicker baskets full of fresh witch hazel and mugwort, and several clay pots full of Smoke Petal plants lay on a sturdy wooden table underneath. There were shelves crowded with glass bottles and jars of different-colored liquids, and display cases here and there throughout the shop showing off fancy vials of powerful potions, their vapors wafting around them in many colors.

  Rows of dusty old tomes with ancient Celtic and Latin written along their spines were tucked away in a large bookcase that took up half of one entire wall. A huge dragonhide-bound spell book sat on top of a wooden podium, open to a familiar recipe of Aunt Bedelia's. Lit candles with their flames flickering this way and that adorned practically every surface. Of course, it wouldn’t be the Apot
hecarium without the health and beauty aisle with its assortment of bars, lotions, potions, and enchanted items.

  My personal favorite thing, however, was the wooden barrel by the front counter full of honey toffees and other delicious candies. When I was younger my father would sneak some home from the shop to me and my younger brother Tristan, whenever he would visit my mother.

  Aunt Bee was bent over a wooden crate full of small boxes, sorting through them and whispering to herself unaware of my presence, surprisingly.

  I cleared my throat.

  "Oh my, it's not every day someone sneaks up on me like this!" she chuckled as she looked up at me. "And where is the lovely Fiona-Leigh today?"

  I bit my lip. "Actually . . . Fi’s staying over her friend’s house this weekend. I wanted to come here first myself. Remember how I told you she was in trouble? Hopefully I’m good enough company."

  "Why of course," she said warmly, the crinkles around her eyes not showing an ounce of disappointment. "And what brings you here first? I figured you would want to stop by the manor house and check on your brother."

  I shrugged, although my stomach growling as loud as possible was probably a dead giveaway. "I don't really have any way of procuring any food at the moment. I thought maybe if I stopped by here . . ."

  She threw me a knowing look. "That maybe you would procure some food? But of course, dear. I’m just going over my latest shipment, absolutely famished myself." Her heavy cloak billowed out behind her as she stood up and snapped her fingers. A plate covered in small tea sandwiches suddenly hovered above her open hand. "Will this do?"

  I smiled. "Yes, I think it will."

  I could smell the fresh bread and arugula from across the room, and with the simple wave of her other hand, my aunt sent two sandwiches floating my way.

  "It's my latest recipe, actually. The bread, that is. Usually I like something a little sweeter but this time I decided to go with savory. What do you think?" she asked, gesturing for me to take a bite.