11. Harper
A fter dinner, I took my book of shadows and made my way out onto our front porch to record the day’s events.
Keeping a book of shadows was a sacred practice most witches kept. It was similar to keeping a diary, just a little more magical.
Many human traditions actually stemmed from witchcraft. Things you would never think of, like blowing out candles on a birthday cake and making a wish, were derived from ancient pagan customs.
Charging a burning candle with an intention is actually a foundational piece of spellwork.
The difference is a true witch would never blow a candle out.
You risk blowing the intention away if you do so.
We usually used snuffers or wet fingers to keep the intention sealed in the wax.
Some witches didn’t believe you should put the candle out at all but let it burn all the way down to complete the spell.
My book of shadows was where I recorded the events of my life, but it was also where I kept track of my own practice.
It was full of things like what each color represented for me in my own personal practice, little homemade spells and charms, and helped me keep track of the moon’s phases .
We were currently moving into a new moon, which meant it was a great time to set new intentions and work with magic that pushed things away. As the moon waned, the magic behind any spells I cast during this time would make the things I wished to banish wane as well.
All my crystals were freshly charged from the full moon the night before, so I was ready to work out what types of things I wanted to remove from my life over the coming weeks.
As I sat down, I had a feeling that this month would be full of protection magic, and I planned to work on strengthening my metaphysical barriers to protect myself from any negative energy these new threats might bring my way.
I’d just curled up into my usual spot on our swinging porch bench when a man busted out of George’s house so fast the door slammed against the wall, causing me to jump.
I frowned at the interruption, glancing over to see another strange man on George’s front lawn.
This man was just as beautiful as Gabriel, though his coloring was completely different. He had a mop of dark hair that complemented his tawny skin, and he was wearing a crisp black shirt rolled up to his elbows.
There was a block of script tattooed on the inside of his forearm, and I caught a flash of the ink as I watched him run a frustrated hand through his thick, dark hair.
I watched quietly as the man seemed to be fighting some sort of internal battle with himself.
His jaw clenched, and he crushed his eyes shut, muttering words like ‘pathetic’ and ‘idiot’ to himself.
The negative energy and self-hatred rolling off him were so pungent that, for a moment, I forgot about the card’s warning, and I found myself wanting to comfort him.
“Hey,” I said softly, and the man’s entire body stiffened. Slowly , he turned to face me, and I swallowed.
He was almost cat-like in his movements, and suddenly, he didn’t look conflicted or distraught anymore. Goosebumps erupted over my flesh as his green eyes took me in, and I felt like I was being studied by a predator.
“Hello,” the man purred, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black slacks .
“Hi.”
“You must be Harper.”
His voice sounded familiar, and I was struck with the strangest feeling that I knew this man from somewhere. My intuition was sending me mixed signals. I wanted to run from him and hug him at the same time.
Weird.
“Yeah. Are you Gabe’s partner?” I asked, forcing myself to sit still. His gaze was locked in on me so intently I wasn’t sure what would happen if I moved.
Why did I feel like he would chase me if I ran?
Why did I feel like that would be insanely fun?
What the fuck was wrong with me today?
The wry smirk on the man’s face faltered at the mention of Gabe, but he recovered quickly.
“Sure. When it suits me,” he purred, and I frowned.
“Lover’s quarrel?” I asked. Even though I’d known this man for literally two seconds, I was getting a witchy feeling that he wasn’t being honest, not just with me, but with himself.
“I don’t quarrel with my lovers, sweetheart,” he rumbled, cocking his head to the side. “I usually just throw them away.”
Ew.
What a douchey thing to say.
I rolled my eyes. “Spoken like a true incel,” I grumbled, dismissing him and turning back to my book.
He barked out a laugh and came closer, leaning his hands on the fence that divided our properties.
“Did you really just call me an incel?” he asked, that strangely endearing smirk still curled across his lips.
“You heard me,” I replied dryly as I drew a black circle in the corner of my page to represent the new moon.
“I’m pretty sure incels don’t get laid.” He chuckled.
I glanced back up at him, feeling my own lips twitch.
“So you’re just a regular, run-of-the-mill asshole then. ” I sighed, already growing bored with this conversation.
His eyebrows rose, and he bit the tip of his thumb as if trying to keep himself from laughing .
“You think I’m an asshole?”
I rolled my eyes again. At this rate, they might roll right out of my damn skull.
“I mean. Sort of seems like it. ‘I just throw my partners away.’ If Gabe really is your partner, I feel bad for him.”
The man shrugged, still looking at me like I was the most interesting thing he’d seen all day.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t complaining five minutes ago when he was begging me to let him finish.”
“Dude, ew.” I made a face, and this time, he did laugh.
Ugh. What a shocker, a dude abruptly changing the topic to sex. Why was I even talking to this guy?
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t be interested. I bet I could make you beg, too,” he purred, and I finally looked back up at him, narrowing my eyes.
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth,” I snapped, and he chuckled, his eyes darkening.
“Not even if I had a magic cock?”
A chill rolled through me, and something tingled in the back of my brain.
Where had I heard that before?
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Who are you?”
“You can call me Hazai,” he said, and I wrinkled my nose at him, causing him to chuckle again.
“Why did you say it like that? Is Hazai not your actual name?”
Fucking weirdo.
He lifted an elegant shoulder and examined his fingernails. “I have many names.”
“Does the corny, mysterious, bad-boy schtick work with all the ladies? Because honestly, it’s making me cringe.”
He laughed again, and I softened slightly at the fact that he genuinely seemed to enjoy my snarky ass. Most people just thought I was a bitch.
Maybe I was, but I didn’t really care.
If you were worth keeping around, you saw through it. Besides, I wasn’t a bitch to the people who mattered.
I just hadn’t worked out if this guy mattered or not yet .
His aloof, assholish nature was telling me he didn’t… but I had seen the angst on his face when he’d first come out here. Something told me there was more to this guy than what he was showing me right now.
He shrugged. “Yes. It works on the ladies, and honestly, a lot of the men, too.”
“Like Gabe?” I asked, watching him carefully to get his reaction to his lover’s name.
It was small, but he flinched slightly, which made me dislike him a little less.
“No. It doesn’t work on Gabe.” He sighed, looking away from me with a small frown on his face. “None of my bullshit works on Gabe.”
“Interesting,” I said, and he glanced back at me, looking confused and lost for a moment, before that snarky mask of his reappeared.
“You should come over and meet him. I bet you would like him.” He said, his eyes flashing with something dark and sinister.
Abruptly, my hackles rose. Our friendly banter suddenly felt like it had been a trap, and warning bells fired off in the back of my mind.
Slowly and carefully, I stood up and edged my way to the front door. He tracked my movements with that predatory look on his face, and I felt like an idiot for engaging with him at all.
I’d just pulled the tower card for Hecate’s sake, and here I was, talking to a strange man, alone, in the middle of the night.
Goddess, I had zero survival instincts.
“Not happening, buddy. Like I said, I don’t often waste my time with the company of strange men.”
“Mmm. We’ll see about that, Harper Bishop,” he said ominously, and all the hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I slipped into my house, closing and locking the door behind me.
My heart was racing in my chest, and I suddenly felt out of breath.
What the fuck?
Some weird ass shit was going on, and I didn’t like it.
I resolved to cast a protection spell before bed and make sure I wore my obsidian necklace for the foreseeable future.
However, something told me that all the obsidian in the world wouldn’t keep that man away if he truly set his mind on getting to me.
Ugh . What the fuck was going on?