Karaoke Chemistry: A Witchy Small Town Romcom (Sacred River Book 2)

23. Magnolia

HE’S THE ONE.

Mom’s words clang in my head like a gong in a canyon.

“What if that means—” I can’t finish the statement. I can’t even think it anymore. Not with the way my intentions and wishes seem to be shaping the world around me.

Aspen must realize it, too, because she reaches out to grab my arm, as though to stop me, and shakes her head. She looks back at our mom. “He’s heard her sing.”

Mom’s lips tip up. “Oh, I think he’s done more than that.”

Heat rises to my cheeks at her words, but I don’t bother denying it. Instead, I lay out the next piece of the puzzle. “I love him.”

Aspen whistles. “I admit, I did not see it coming that fast.”

“And it’s just as terrifying admitting it to you two as it was telling him.” I point to my hair. “This happened when I told him. He said it first, and after I said it, my head got all tingly. I saw it later.”

“Love is a powerful thing,” Mom intones.

“No shit,” I shoot back. Aspen snorts as Mom’s eyes flare. I sigh. “It is powerful, you’re right. And what he and I have is…powerful. But I’m scared.”

Aspen reaches for my hand and squeezes, the strength grounding me. “I need all of you safe—my family and Riggs, and I don’t know how to do that. I’ve spent over twenty years lost. And of course I’ve tried not singing. You’ve seen what happens when I don’t.” I swallow, not sure I’m ready to give voice to the other thing.

“Magnolia,” Mom prompts, as though she knows I’m holding back.

I look at the floor, unable to look at them. “I don’t think I’m the person I’m supposed to be.”

Both women’s eyes narrow at me. “Explain,” Aspen demands.

I let out a deep breath. “I’m not sure I can. No one knows me at karaoke. They don’t know my real name or what I do for a living. They definitely don’t know I’m a witch. I dress differently, I wear makeup, my hair is different, the whole thing. It’s weird, honestly—like, I can do any of those things on their own, the hair, the makeup, the clothes, and no one notices. But when I put it all together, it’s as though I become a different person. Closer to the person I’m actually supposed to be.” As I speak, it all pieces together. There’s an overwhelming sense of rightness when I’m Seven. The confidence, the way I speak and carry myself, the feeling of peace, of almost being at rest when I’m her. It’s not complete, but I’m most myself when I’m Seven. When I’m not hiding. Which is ironic, given that I’m wearing a costume every time I walk in that bar.

Or am I?

I don’t know. I don’t know, and every time I think I’ve figured something out, another thing pops up that I don’t understand. I’m peeling away layer after layer, but it’s endless. The kernel of anger and frustration that began under the willow tree flares to life once more as I look at my mother and sister. “Seven.”

Aspen smiles approvingly. “That’s the name you use?”

At my confirmation, Mom huffs a quiet laugh. “You’ll be the one to bring us all back together, Magnolia.”

“All seven sisters,” I say.

Seven. Because Hazel may not be here yet, but I know, I know, she’ll come home eventually.

Seven. Because my mother is the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter.

Seven. Because it is the most powerful number there is. Because I called to that number even without understanding why.

Seven. Because I may have been the one to separate myself from my sisters, but it was done out of love.

“We have a lot of work to do,” Mom declares.

And as she looks at me, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, I understand that she sees so much more than she’s ever let on. It sends a chill down my spine, because in the silent arch of her brow, the knowing tilt of her mouth, she confirms what I’ve begun to suspect and been unwilling to let float to the surface: I’m my family’s most powerful witch.

“Of course you are,”Mom says later, as all of us are crowded around the kitchen table. We tried FaceTiming Hazel, but she didn’t answer, so Clementine shot her an SOS text and Mom, Aspen, and I brought the rest of the sisters up to speed.

Aspen chokes at Mom’s declaration. “I thought?—”

Mom looks at Aspen with a gentle smile. “Darling. You got a lot of things, but you did not get this family’s strength. That went to Magnolia.” Mom fixes me with a stern glint in her eyes. “Though I thought it was lost forever when I couldn’t fix what went wrong after your Sixteenth Gathering. Turns out, you sent it away when you called upon the Universe to intervene.”

“So now what?” Willow asks.

“That’s what we were going to ask,” Jasmine says, her fingers threaded through Juniper’s.

Aspen leans in and rests her forearms on the table. “Now we figure out how we’re going to counteract that bitch?—”

“Oh my gosh, Aspen! Language!” Clementine says, her eyes round as she palms her belly. “The twins!”

Aspen leans back in her chair and crosses her arms across her chest. “They can’t hear a thing yet, and even if they could, they need to learn a thing or two.”

“Okay, but do you really need to use such hateful language? There’s enough woman-on-woman hate in this world,” Clementine says.

“Enough.” This will derail in seconds if I let it. “Even though Kera has absolutely earned that title, we’ll refrain from using it. Let’s move on.” I look over at Aspen, and I can’t tell if she’s upset at the clear balance of power that’s happening in our house, or if she’s truly just ready to exact revenge on Kera.

I barely have time to register the desire to understand Aspen before it’s clear as day before me. Her aura, a gentle bright gray, snaps into focus with spikes of black spiraling through it for the briefest of seconds and all but spells it out: she wants revenge.

Good to know.

Because apparently I’m reading auras now. Now I understand what Juniper must see. I slide my gaze to her, and she tips her chin down while her lips quirk into a knowing smile.

Mom speaks. “The Gathering is here in a month, on the first day of autumn. That is when we’ll strike.”

A cold wave of fear crashes through me. What if that’s too long?

“Why not sooner?” Clementine asks, and I shoot her a grateful look.

“Because we need that time to get ready,” Mom says. “Counteracting a spell this powerful requires a lot of work, and we’ll need all seven of us to do it.”

Jasmine leans forward. “What about Hazel?”

A flicker of disappointment crosses Mom’s face before she masks it. “As much as we all want her here, she’s chosen not to be. We have to move on without her. Seven is enough. Eight would be better, so that one of us could protect the rest as we worked the spell, but we’ll make do.”

As we all nod, I ask, “So how is this going to work?”

Mom stands, and with a flick of her wrist, the chair she was in disappears into the table. “We start with intentions. Those journals each of you have are far more powerful than you may have realized.” She glances at me. “Clearly.”

I can’t help the wry laugh that escapes. “Gee, you think?”

Standing and disappearing her own chair, Juniper says, “Would have been good to tell us that when you gifted them to us.”

Mom shrugs her dainty shoulders and lifts her chin. “It’s in the past. Everyone, go grab your journals.”