Chapter 33
F orty-eight hours later, their elements had failed to switch back –and to make matters worse, Lucy woke with a start to find Grams standing over her.
She had a finger to her lips, probably so that she wouldn’t alarm a half-naked Benedict in bed beside Lucy. Thankfully neither of them were completely naked, or she never would have recovered from being discovered like this – though Grams didn’t look surprised in the least.
The fright should have caused her to set her beloved grandmother on fire, but to her surprise, there was no rush of heat coursing through her. Yesterday she and Benedict had simply assumed that the potion hadn’t worked, but as she tried to light the candle on her bedside table with the tip of her finger, her eyes widened in alarm. Maybe this potion just takes longer to work than the first. She wanted to wake Benedict and tell him, but startling a mostly unclothed Benedict in front of Grams probably wasn’t a good idea. Nor was revealing they’d both consumed a potion containing dragon venom.
“How did you get in?” she snapped, keeping her voice low.
Benedict was still fast asleep, snoring with an arm thrown over her waist. True to his word, he hadn’t really left her side since they’d drunk the potion, but they’d been so busy with the festival that neither had talked about their pending nuptials. Their mothers had taken over all the planning, which gave them some reprieve; Lucy had never seen him so exhausted. She wondered if he was keeping an eye on her until the binding in case the potion kicked in and she suddenly hated his guts again – that, or he couldn’t get enough of her. Not that she was complaining; she liked having a man-sized water bottle to snuggle into.
She tied her dressing gown around her waist and climbed out of bed slowly so she wouldn’t disturb him, though he was clearly dead to the world. They’d been up late trying to figure out how to divide their duties as joint leaders of the coven and how such duties would impact their current responsibilities. The stress had worn them both out, but at least they had each other to help work out the tension. She wasn’t so sure being joint leaders was a bad idea after all.
“Such a simple lock wouldn’t keep me out– although I’ll admit I wasn’t aware you had company,” Grams whispered, smirking at Benedict’s muffled groan. Instead of waking to pull Lucy close, he grabbed her pillow and cuddled it to his chest. Lucy stifled a laugh as a small smile formed in the corner of his mouth.
“What’s so urgent? You never come up here,” she said, trying to take the attention away from him.
Grams rooted in her wardrobe and threw her a pair of jeans and a thick, oversized jumper. She caught them, glad Grams hadn’t said anything about the clothing discarded on the cream carpet like a roadmap of the previous night’s activities. Why didn’t I take Benedict up on his offer to stay at his?
She stopped following Grams down the stairs when she realised all over again that she really didn’t feel the sizzling simmer beneath her skin. She resisted the urge to go back to Benedict and wake him. His element is gone.
A small squeal escaped her as she covered her mouth, only for a nervous chuckle to follow. The elation was so overwhelming that she didn’t even notice Grams had stopped talking and was staring at her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Grams frowned.
Lucy resisted the urge to groan; she couldn’t have the whole element celebration with Grams here. It’d have to wait, and she couldn’t get too excited anyway, not until her water returned. She didn’t feel a hint of its coolness yet.
“Nothing,” she lied.
Gram’s eyes narrowed, but her curiosity was short-lived. “Get dressed– I need you to cover for me at the tarot shop. I’ve had a call from Alpha Beline. One of their youngest wolves is sick. Fever won’t break after their first change, poor thing.”
Lucy paused. “You’re going to go into wolf territory alone?” Grams had gone out on healing calls before, but lately Lucy got nervous when she visited the wolves. Getting lost in the woods, especially with her memory failing, wasn’t a fate Grams should suffer.
“There’s nothing to worry about; I’m more than capable,” Grams said, resting a reassuring hand on her forearm. “I’ve long been given permission to enter their lands, so there shouldn’t be any trouble.”
Lucy glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she should suggest Benedict accompany her. Then again, given his recent run-in with the wolves at the Manor, she quickly thought better of it.
“Without my help, they’ve little hope of the child surviving,” Grams said urgently. “If I need an extra set of hands, I’ll send someone from the pack to get you.”
Lucy reluctantly agreed, though she couldn’t help feeling guilty – if she ended up going and Benedict found out, he’d be furious to know she’d put herself in a dangerous situation without an element to protect herself. At least Grams was going there to help, and the Hawthorne name was well respected. The wolves wouldn’t have reached out if the situation wasn’t desperate.
It was extra chilly out today, so Lucy was relieved that Grams had opted to keep her shop open instead of hiring a stall; it meant she could keep her back to the toasty radiator and serve customers instead of standing out in the cold. Thankfully most of the customers were just coming in for crystals and some potion jars. Lucy could read tarot, but it didn’t come as naturally as potion-making or translating.
“Lucy, can we talk for a moment?” Emerson asked, appearing in the doorway. “There’s something delicate I want to talk to you about.”
Lucy smiled, speaking in her best physic voice. “You’ve come to the right place for delicate questions. A card reading can help you find the answers you seek.”
“I’m not here for a reading,” he said as she shuffled the deck on the table.
She frowned.
“I need the key for my afternoon lecture,” he explained. He wasn’t asking like someone who had discovered he’d been stolen from; Lucy was beginning to wonder if anything could disturb this man’s peace.
She went to the till and removed the key from beneath the cash tray.
“You knew?” she asked, offering it to him. There was no point in lying about it. She’d planned on dropping it in the library to make it look like it might have slipped out of his pocket while he was working with Rosie.
“Rosie wanted to have a look at one of the objects in the restricted relics section to compare the symbol she found in the case she’s been working on. It was only when we got there that I noticed it wasn’t in my pocket. I checked everywhere. and then one of the professors said that he saw you and Benedict leaving the university library quite late the night of the festival opening.”
“I’m sorry – I should’ve asked. I didn’t want to get you involved or put you in an awkward position.”
“I would’ve given it to you without question. You are the reason I was even able to get a key in the first place,” Emerson reminded her.
“I know, but that didn’t give me the right to take it.” Lucy hesitated. “You don’t want to know why?”
“It’s none of my business. And by the way, I didn’t tell Rosie about this.”
Lucy wanted to thank him, though she couldn’t help wondering if he was keeping it from her friend to use it against her in the future. “How about you let me give you a reading to say thank you? I’m not as talented as my Grams, but Rosie said you’ve been trying to figure out what your future looks like now that you’ve decided to settle in Foxford.”
Emerson shrugged. “Sure, maybe a quick reading. I don’t have a lecture for another hour or so.” He took a seat at the round table encrusted with crystals.
“A four-card draw shouldn’t take too long. And anything we discuss or that comes up will be kept between us. A witch never discusses her readings,” Lucy said, always respecting the privacy of others. Readings could bring up past emotional issues, or personal concerns and troubles, so it could become emotionally charged. She hung a busy sign on the door so that no one would interrupt, knocked on the deck of cards three times to remove any energy lingering from past readings, and handed the deck to him.
“Close your eyes and let your mind quieten. Don’t try to hold any thought or concern; let whatever thoughts come to the front of your mind settle,” she instructed, lighting a candle at the heart of the table.
Emerson eyed the cards laid out with an aura of unease. Then again, Lucy didn’t doubt that he was the first Order member to have his cards read. Her ancestors wouldn’t believe their eyes if they could see this.
She flipped the first card.
“Death Reversed.” She would have said it was the most positive card in the deck, despite its reputation. “Don’t panic, this isn’t a death sentence.”
“I’m relieved. I still have some things to tick off my bucket list before I kick it.” He smiled, but there was wariness in his gaze.
“It can mean the death of your old habits, or a way of life. The closing of one and moving on to the next. You’ve just moved to a new town, so I’m not surprised this is your first draw.”
“But it’s upside down?”
“That can mean there is some resistance. Perhaps there is a part of you clinging to old habits, or a reluctance to leave the past behind.”
He didn’t verify or deny her reasoning. It wasn’t her job to pry; she only read the cards. She reached for the next.
“Seven of Wands, and it’s upright, which is interesting. Romance could be on the horizon. A love you are fighting for and defending. A love that will face some challenges, but if you are true in heart and intention, you could have long term success,” Lucy explained, thinking how delighted Rosie would be. Her best friend was never one to shy away from a challenge; she only hoped he was up to it.
Emerson fidgeted with the collar on his coat. Concealing her smile, she turned over another card.
“Three of Swords, upright.” She hesitated, staring at the crossed swords.
“You look concerned. Should I be worried?” He leaned forward.
Lucy forced a smile and ran her hand over the card for a clearer reading . Lies, deception, scheming… the messages flashing through her mind were unclear, so she opted for a less serious explanation so as not to spook him. “A little suspicion, either from you or directed towards you.”
“That makes sense. Not everyone has been accepting of my arrival.”
“Some conflict at work?” she asked, and for the first time since she had grown to trust him, she felt a flash of irritation. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and he kept glancing at the door.
“I got the new job at the university, which I’m sure others weren’t happy about,” he hedged.
Wanting to end the reading, she wished she hadn’t proposed, given his unsettled reaction and her renewed suspicion, Lucy reached for the next card.
Emerson visibly swallowed before she turned it over. Suddenly, he reached into his tweed jacket for his phone. “The dean is calling me! I still have to get to the relics section before my lecture. We can finish this some other time,” he said, getting up with such haste that the chair nearly fell back.
“Are you sure you can’t stay for another minute? We’re almost done.” She wondered if he was lying to get out of the rest of the reading; she hadn’t heard the phone ring or vibrate. “Have I said something to upset you?”
“No.” He shook his head, his floppy curls exaggerating his denial. “Just a busy day, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” He couldn’t get out of the shop fast enough.
“Don’t forget you and Rosie are helping me with the toffee apple stall tomorrow!” Lucy called out after him, unsure whether he heard her. If he’d been a cartoon, a puff of smoke would have been left in his place as the door closed behind him.
In his absence, she turned over the last card.
“The Hanged Man.” The words escaped her in a sigh. “A sacrifice of the heart? His or another’s?”
As she picked it up, she felt a forced separation: a harsh change that had changed his outlook, changed a deep-seated belief. That made sense, considering he’d drawn the death card first. The draw was coming up full circle.
Tossing it back on the table, she worried she was reading into the cards too much. There were many ways they could be interpreted, but clearly there was more to his story than Emerson was letting on. She considered taking the cards to Grams to get her insight, but maybe she was just being paranoid, wanting to protect her friend. Even if Lucy had the best intentions, Rosie wouldn’t be too happy if she knew she was using cards to get a better insight into their new resident Order member.
The cards stared up at her . If there’s nothing wrong, then why did he run?
Lucy shook away the thought and went to the pantry. She’d feel better once she removed the energy from the deck. Finding a sage stick and standing over the cards, she tried to light it without thinking, but nothing happened. She almost missed the heat stirring in her veins. To distract herself, she tried to summon her water, but it still hadn’t returned. Her breath caught. What if I’ve stripped us of our elements for good? If her water returned, she vowed never to take it for granted, for even a second.
“Pumpkin!” Benedict called from the front of the small shop. Lucy put down the sage stick, gathering up the incriminating cards. “Why does the sign on the door say you’re closed?”
“I was giving Emerson a private reading.”
His eyes narrowed. “How was that? Learn anything new about the perfect professor?”
“Did you come here to ask me about card readings?” Benedict had only just started not to hate Emerson entirely; now wasn’t the time to bring up her suspicions.
“No – I like to be surprised by what fate has in store.” He winked, kissing her cheek. “Speaking of, I went to the library, but Rosie said you were here, and I couldn’t wait to show you.” Like an excited kid, he walked over to the table of half-melted candle samples. Grams let customers light them to make sure they loved the scent before purchasing.
“Want to see a magic trick?” he asked, rubbing his hands together like some cheesy magician.
Lucy stared wide-eyed, watching him run his hand over the table. Tall flames sparked upon each wick. Her hands flew to her mouth.
“Your element is back!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck excitedly.
“It’s a bit twitchy,” he said into her hair. “This is the most I can do for now, but it’ll probably take some time. The potion worked. Fuck, it feels good to have it back.” He sighed, and she released him.
“When did – how did—?” she stammered, her mind spinning with a mix of relief and excitement. Benedict couldn’t stop beaming. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile so big.
“I went back to the Manor, and one of the porters was trying to light the fireplace in the lobby. I felt this rush of heat, thought I was going to pass out, and the next thing I knew the fire was lit. I always thought you might poison me one day, but with that poison you cured me. You gave me back my fire!” He picked her up and twirled her around, unable to contain his joy. Lucinda thanked the gods for letting the magic work and giving him back what her family had taken. His happiness was infectious.
“What about your water? Anything?” he asked, looking her over as though she was about to spring a leak.
“No sign of it yet, but like yours, I’m sure it’ll just surprise me when I least expect it.” Lucy tried to hide her disappointment so he wouldn’t feel guilty about his excitement.
“Why not give it a try? It’s not been long since my return, and you could just need a little push like I did with the fireplace,” he suggested, picking up one of the small cactus pots and placing it on the reading table.
“I don’t want to force it. I’m sure it’ll find its way back to me in time,” she started to reason, but seeing how eager he was, she figured it couldn’t hurt to try.
Hesitantly, she studied the soil. Benedict’s gaze on her back didn’t help her anxiety. Letting out a slow exhale, she called to her element, but nothing happened. Her shoulders slumped.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. The love she felt in his touch was as much of a relief as it would have been if her element was back.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have pushed. Let’s be patient.” He kissed the side of her head as she shook off her worries.
“We should call today a win anyway, since we’re halfway there,” she said, turning around in his arms.
“Still want to marry me?” He lifted her onto the counter.
“A customer might come in!” she squealed.
“Let them,” he said, pulling her closer. She tried to nudge him away, but he gripped her waist, refusing to budge. “I’m still waiting for my answer,” he said, tilting his head towards her so their noses were barely touching.
Lucy studied his lips, feeling a tumble of excitement in her tummy at the thought of kissing him. She slipped her hands to the back of his neck and let them drift into his hair. “No.”
His face fell and he tried to pull back, but she held him close. His confusion was so adorable she nearly broke her composure.
“I want a binding,” she clarified, and he shook his head, trying to conceal his bashful smile. “I need to make sure no one else gets a taste of these magnificent lips in this life or the next.”
Benedict lifted her off the counter and hauled her over his shoulder. “You’re going to pay for that!” He carried her into the back as she stifled a laugh and pleas to be let down.
The bell tinkled. They both looked up to see a customer standing in the door, eyebrows raised.
“Sorry, we’re closed for the rest of the afternoon. My wife and I need to have a talk,” Benedict said firmly before Lucy could do anything.
The customer gaped before nodding and backing out of the shop. Benedict let Lucy down, and she stood mortified as he quickly closed the door and pulled down the blind.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Though her stomach had done a little flip as he called her his wife…
He grinned. “Then what I’m going to do next is going to be an even bigger shock.”