Herbs & Hex-breaking (The Apothecary Shoppe Mysteries #1)

CHAPTER ONE

My morning walk was my personal reset. I typically went out early in the morning a couple times a week, enjoying the relative peace and quiet—and almost no traffic—as the sun rose.

As was my habit, I ended my walk at the Storyteller Fountain.

Taking a moment to slow my breathing from the brisk pace I’d set, I admired the statue in the fountain of the god Pan.

Surrounding him were other animals that he appeared be reading to from a book—hence the fountain’s title of storyteller.

Above me, a thin waning crescent moon was still visible in the morning sky.

In the old traditions, the moon and sun seen in the sky together brought balance and harmony.

For the moment I was alone in the center of the Five Points area.

And so, I bowed my head in silent acknowledgment to the waning moon, the moon phase of my patron deity and namesake, the triple goddess, Hekate.

My full name is Hekate Fiona Weaver—but my friends call me Kate. I’m thirty years old, half Greek, and a business owning Witch about town. And what a town it is. My city has its ups and downs but still, I love it; there’s a unique energy here and a thriving magickal community.

Despite it being a mid-October day, it was humid and the temperatures were warm. Which wasn’t a surprise considering this was Alabama. Well used to the weather, I tightened my ponytail and swiped at the perspiration gathering on my forehead.

I headed for home, and in the distance a dog began to howl. Then a second joined in…and a third…another sign that my patron goddess was near. Despite the heat and humidity goose bumps rose on my arms.

“Thank you,” I murmured. There was extra juice in the air today, I decided. The energy might have been from the upcoming sabbat of Samhain, and the thinning of the veil. Or perhaps it was something else...

I hadn’t gone far before I spotted a couple walking towards me. Taking one look at them, I sized them up as tourists in their late sixties.

“Excuse me, Miss?” the woman called out.

“Yes?”

“We seemed to be turned around.” She laughed nervously. “We went out for an early breakfast, and I wanted to walk over and see the fountain afterward...but now we can’t seem to figure out which direction our hotel is.”

I asked her for the name of her hotel and then quickly pointed them in the correct direction.

“Oh, thank you,” she said. “It’s all so confusing the way the streets come together… There’s literally two 20th Avenues. We weren’t sure which way to go!”

“No worries,” I said.

“The fountain,” the man said, glancing back at it. “That’s a little shocking showcasing a Pagan god like that. And across the street from a church no less.”

“This is Five Points South,” I said. See how the five streets all converge at this point? They create a five-pointed star, and a crossroads with the fountain at the center.”

“Like a pentagram? Sounds like witchcraft,” the man said.

I kept my expression and my voice friendly. “Well, Birmingham is known as the ‘Magic City.’”

The woman elbowed her husband. “We noticed,” she said. “There’s a few shops clustered together in this adorable, old building. We passed them as we walked to breakfast—”

“Someone at the hotel mentioned that they were all run by Witches,” her husband interjected.

“Did they?” I asked, fighting back a grin.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh, for goodness sake, Greg. I peeked in the windows, the stores all looked pretty. A candle shop, and apothecary, and a bookstore all in a row... But I especially liked the one in the middle. It had a black and white striped awning. Through the windows I saw all of these herbs, spices, teas, and houseplants that were for sale. The plants were amazing from what I could see.”

“Why thank you,” I said to her. “The Apothecary Shoppe is in fact, mine.”

The couple blinked. “You own it?” the woman asked.

“I do,” I said with a smile. “I’m Kate, and we open up at ten o’clock. I hope we’ll see y’all in later.”

The woman nodded. “Ten o’clock you say? Well, I’ll be back wallet in hand. Thank you, Kate, for your help and for being so friendly to a couple of tourists.”

“My pleasure,” I told her.

The couple went on their way back in the direction of their hotel and I could hear them clearly as they walked along.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go into that shop, Julie,” the husband said.

“Oh hush, you!” The wife laughed merrily.

Chuckling to myself, I continued to walk home—which was the apartment situated directly above my store—and figured Julie and the reluctant Greg would be wandering in later this morning to do some shopping.

I slipped around the back of the row of brick buildings and went to the rear metal staircase. It went straight up to my apartment door with a tiny, covered landing. And when my cell phone buzzed, signaling a text, I paused in mid-step.

There was a message sent from my friend Hattie Broussard. I’d like to speak to you as soon as possible. I hope you can help me with a potentially witchy problem. Thanks.

Hattie was a fun young woman with a sunny disposition. I purchased my store’s house plants from her family’s nursery and greenhouse. She, her mother, and her grandmother, in turn purchased my teas, loose culinary herbs and various spice mixes. “I wonder what this is all about?” I said to myself.

Determined to stick to my schedule, I tucked my phone in my pocket of my walking shorts, let myself inside, and headed straight for the showers.

***

By nine o’clock I was downstairs, turning on the lights and walking the sales floor.

I dressed for comfort that day, in a soft navy skater style dress that had moons and stars scattered over the fabric.

The celestial dress boasted deep pockets which was great for carrying my cell phone.

Sensible flats were on my feet—as I’d be on them for most of the day,

Catching my reflection in one of the decorative mirrors, I stopped and fussed with my hair. I’d loaded up on a ton of hair product that morning, in an effort to have curls and not frizz in the Alabama humidity, and had allowed my dark auburn curls to air dry.

My hair had a mind of its own. Depending on the light it could appear deep red or brown.

Today, it seemed to be behaving itself. My makeup I kept fairly business-like but with a bit of a witchy edge.

Mauve lips, soft blush, only a bit of reddish-brown eyebrow pencil to define my brows…

I added the drama with my eye shadow and did a dark charcoal smoky eye lined with navy.

The contrast of the softer more natural face, with darker eye makeup, made my medium blue eyes pop.

Turning away from my reflection, I considered the sales floor.

I had restocked all the teas, culinary spices, and spice blends after closing the night before, and so that morning, it was simply a matter of doing a bit of straightening, adjusting the seasonal displays and scooching things in from where items had sold.

My retail space was narrow but long. Originally this building had been an old drug store, and when I bought it, I’d been thrilled to discover that a massive old wooden apothecary chest and shelves had remained intact along one of the walls.

Made from oak and stained dark brown, they ran from front to back, divided about two-thirds of the way down by a heavy pocket door.

Taking my cues from the building’s history and the apothecary chest, I had decided to name my place The Apothecary Shoppe.

I’d spent a solid week cleaning all of the drawers and wooden surfaces.

I didn’t refinish them, but instead I gave them a good scrubbing.

The vintage metal hardware and label holders that remained only added to the look.

The huge apothecary chest was now the focal point of my store’s display, and I took advantage of it.

Trailing plants spilled from some of the partially opened drawers, while the rest were neatly labeled and pressed into service for the storage of the herbs, teas and spices that I sold.

On the open shelves above it I had vintage tea tins, antique canning jars and glass bottles of herbs displayed.

As Halloween was only two weeks out, I currently had small pumpkins, silk autumn leaves, and LED candles scattered around to make the atmosphere a tad more festive. Not one for horror and gore for the October holiday, I preferred to keep it more natural and harvest themed.

I also kept the sales floor as open as possible.

With the building being narrow, every inch was prime presentation space.

There were a few round display tables dotted about on the sales floor, but there still was plenty of room to maneuver.

My checkout counter was tucked in a front corner, near the main door and slender front windows.

The counter itself was built out of an old sideboard that I’d picked up for a song at an estate sale.

My father had helped me retrofit it, making it a taller and a more practical work surface for the checkout area.

Here I had combined the old and the new: with a large vintage scale for looks, a sleek digital scale for weighing and pricing bulk herbs and teas, and my very modern point of sales system that was on a convenient stand.

Slipping behind the counter, I went to the touch screen and booted up the program for the day. The noise of the pocket door sliding along its tracks had me glancing up. One of my neighboring merchants—and my cousin—was also opening.

As I watched, a tall, sultry brunette popped her head in. “Hey, Kate,” she said.

“Morning, Circe,” I said.

“Do you want to keep the doors open between the shops today and encourage more foot traffic between us?”

“Sure.”