Chapter 13
Lucian watched his father, Luke, carefully as they worked side-by-side in the garage, stripping a defunct water heater for parts.
The old man’s tremors were better today, thanks to the Steady Tea Luke insisted they get before starting, but Lucian still hovered, ready to take over any task requiring precision.
He was so caught up in monitoring the job that he missed the shift in his father’s tone as he rambled on.
“You know, Goldie’s tea really is something else,” Luke commented, scraping rust off a valve. “It’s not just a quick fix, unlike the meds that witch doctor gave me down at that city hospital. It actually calms the shakes right down.”
Lucian grunted, his gaze fixed on the copper tubing. “She’s a witch, Pop. She sells spelled drinks. It’s her business.”
“And a damn good one,” Luke countered, setting down his tool.
“She could have left town, gone to the city, been a fancy chef. But she stayed here, built that place up, and helps people with her magic, not just with healing spells.” Luke leveled a knowing look at his son.
“She helps me. That's who Goldie is. You put your faith in that girl, and she'd give you the world.”
The praise was pointed. Lucian felt the familiar, protective knot tighten in his chest. “We are not discussing this, Pop. I saw what I saw, and she can’t even admit the truth.”
“She admitted nothing because there was nothing to admit, boy!” Luke snapped.
He jabbed a finger toward Lucian. “You think a girl who spends her days sweeping up after that bird-cat and brewing coffee for half the town is secretly running a dark magic coven?” Luke’s expression softened.
“You misjudged her once, Lucian. Don’t do it again.
It’s what drove you away from home... and broke your own heart. ”
“I saw the evidence that she used a love spell on me!” Lucian growled. “Why can’t you ever just be on my side?”
“Yet no one else saw this proof,” Luke huffed. “I asked you then and I’ll ask you now: where’s the proof? Show me this evidence, and I will be on your side.”
Lucian refused to meet his gaze. But the defense from his father—always so stubborn and sure—combined with the inexplicable memory of Goldie whispering a spell of peace at the creek, seeded a fresh sprout of doubt in his gut.
Could he have been wrong? He shoved the thought down immediately. No. I saw the proof.
He heard Luke’s phone emit a sharp, insistent buzz against the workbench, followed by the muffled clicks as Luke fumbled to answer it. Luke mumbled a few indistinct “okays,” his voice raspy, before finally stating, “We’ll be there.”
Luke clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him from his internal war. “Alright, alright. New job. We got a call about a refrigerator on the fritz. Should be a quick look.”
Lucian grabbed his bag and followed his father to the truck. He climbed into the truck, but Luke’s words refused to stay behind in the garage. The cool breeze blew through the truck as the tires ate up the distance.
They pulled up to an immaculate two-story cottage painted a vibrant shade of cerulean blue with white trim.
Lucian frowned, instantly recognizing the place. “What are we doing here?” he asked.
“Fridge job, I told you,” Luke said, shoving the passenger door open.
“I know, but… this is Ellie’s house,” Lucian said, his jackal stirring with a strange, indistinct uneasiness. The scent of overly sweet perfume hung in the air, cloying and artificial. His jackal wrinkled its nose.
Luke gave a dismissive shrug and started toward the porch. As they approached, the front door opened, and Ellie emerged, looking pristine in a tailored skirt and matching blouse.
“Lucian! Luke! Thank goodness you’re here,” Ellie chirped, her voice too bright, too energetic as she ran towards him.
She wrapped Lucian in a quick, tight hug. The contact felt unnaturally warm, and his jackal immediately recoiled from the cloying scent of her perfume.
They followed her inside, where Luke, who had been vocal moments ago, suddenly fell silent, his body stiffening as he walked past Ellie. He didn’t speak a word as Ellie began to explain the “broken” refrigerator in the kitchen.
Lucian, still wrestling with his strange reaction to Ellie, forced himself to listen to her talk. It wasn’t long before Ellie launched into a long monologue about the state of Enchantresso.
"Honestly, Goldie was drowning before I came back to town,” Ellie sighed dramatically, leaning against the counter. “I mean, the shop was practically failing. She had to beg me to come home and help her organize everything."
Luke snorted, a low, guttural sound that was barely audible, drawing Lucian’s eyes, but Luke kept his eyes fixed on the fridge. He was pretty sure Ellie didn’t hear it even.
Lucian muttered, “That’s nice of you, Ellie. To help out an old friend."
Ellie laughed, a brittle sound. “Oh, I know. It’s a lot, but I love her, even if she can be a total mess. Today I practically had to build the basket for the Pumpkin Festival myself. Speaking of, are you going to the festival this weekend?”
Lucian shrugged. He hadn’t thought about it, but the last place he wanted to be was navigating a crowd where Goldie might appear.
"I desperately want to go,” Ellie continued, her hand resting delicately on Lucian’s arm.
“But my stupid car is still in the shop, and Goldie won’t let me borrow hers.
She’s so protective of that old clunker.
” She sighed, and her eyes, suddenly sparkling with unshed tears, looked up at him.
“I know it’s too much to ask of you, Lucian.
I’m so sorry. Going to the kickoff on Friday night was all I wanted. "
Lucian frowned, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in her voice.
An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest, one he couldn’t quite name.
Every instinct told him to refuse, to put as much distance between them as possible.
Despite his attempts to devise an excuse to avoid it, the weight of her stare and the recollection of his father’s incessant prodding to mingle pushed him into action.
He sighed, resigning himself to a couple of hours of awkward small talk.
“I’ll drive you. But I can’t stay long.”
Luke suddenly straightened up from inspecting the refrigerator, his face unreadable. “I can’t find anything wrong with the fridge, Miss Vale. Looks fine to me.” Without another word, Luke walked straight out of the kitchen and toward the front door.
Lucian was momentarily confused by his father’s abrupt departure. “Sorry for his rudeness. He’s been going through it with being sick. I’ll see you around, Ellie,” he said, jogging to catch up with Luke.
Ellie called after him, a triumphant lilt in her voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 6pm, then!"
He nodded, not bothering to look back, and kept walking. He climbed into the truck next to Luke, the old motor chugging to life with a roar.
“Don’t trust that witch,” Luke said immediately, his eyes hard and unblinking as he stared through the windshield.
Lucian turned to look at his father. “What do you mean, Pop? I’ve known Ellie forever; she’s just annoying.”
Luke just shook his head, turning the ignition key. The engine settled into idle. “My jackal knows things, pup. Things your stubborn mind refuses to acknowledge. Just don’t trust her.”
Lucian pulled out of the driveway, the memory of Ellie’s cloying perfume and his father’s warning mixing into a cold cocktail of anxiety. He knew he wouldn’t get any more answers, but the doubt that had started with Goldie had now found a strange, unwelcome home regarding Ellie.