Chapter 2
Chloe Landry
Twenty minutes later, and I’m realizing I may have spoken too soon.
“I can’t help unless you tell me what you did. Magical objects don’t just do this without prompting,” Delores says, her lip curling in disgust as she stares down at the bracelet on my arm.
The chair squeaks as I roll from the desk towards her, waving my arm helplessly.
“I didn’t prompt anything, and what do you mean you can’t help? Come on Delores, you’re the best, remember?” I remind her, knowing there’s nothing that will get my egotistical cousin going more than being told she’s the best at everything.
She tuts her lips and shakes her head, making her dark hair shimmer in the light.
As she backs away from where I sit at the shop table, I take in her outfit: a light pink skirt covered with tiny witches, a pink-and-white shirt, and matching pink heels.
Every piece screams “look at me,” as if the universe might forget her for five seconds.
“I am the best,” she says with a roll of her dark brown eyes.
Delores is only a couple months older than me, and we look closer to sisters than cousins. We both have the classic Landry eyes, dark slashing brows, and even the same chocolate hair color. That’s where our similarities end.
Even her hair acts like she’s a real witch and behaves as it should. Meanwhile, mine is dry and frizzy, unable to be straightened, and cut short to my shoulders because it has a mind of its own and has for as long as I can remember.
It’s unfair, made worse since Delores has always reveled that she got her powers before me, the lucky ass.
“Can’t you just perform a protection spell and figure out who made it? That’s what Grandma Lu said to do.”
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on magic, are you?”
I swing my gaze to her and want to scoff at her snooty expression. “You know I don’t have magic; you’ve rubbed it in my face often enough. I swear it’s getting tighter. Just help me, please,” I plead, laying it on thicker than I really want to.
Agitation rolls through me as she tilts her head and scrunches her pert nose at the sight of the bracelet. She hasn’t offered to touch it yet, not that I blame her, but my arm is starting to really fucking hurt. I can feel myself about to lose it.
The only other option I have is to call the Witch hotline, something I really don’t want to have to do on tonight of all nights. Halloween is always the worst night for human mishaps and accidents, not to mention anyone who doesn’t know how to properly manage and manifest magic.
She taps one pink manicured nail on her chin. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this, but you owe me one.”
I watch as she reaches for the box she brought and starts setting random objects on the table before me.
Oh man, how did this even happen?
Today started out pretty great, all things considered.
I woke up determined to face the day down no matter what, the water for my shower hot for once.
Even the old coffee machine worked this morning, something that’s usually hit or miss.
I’ve also passed by the old box containing the bracelet too many times to count.
For whatever reason, it chose today to attack.
“Have you performed any spells lately?” she asks, pulling me from my musings.
I purse my lips. It’s a routine question in the witch world, but not something I want to share, at least not with Delores.
Probably because the moment her magic emerged, she discovered she was mated to Clint Campbell, a powerful warlock in the area.
The fact that I’ve never been given any indication I had a mate waiting is embarrassing enough without having to acknowledge it.
“I know you don’t have magic, but I still have to ask,” she says, picking up a quartz crystal.
I get to my feet and glance down at the large map she’s placed on the gift-wrapping table.
“I scried for my mate yesterday,” I admit, a bit shocked when her brows come together in a pitying expression.
“Alright. We’ll do that first then,” she states, placing the crystal back down and clapping.
My stomach dips. “Do what first?”
A genuine smile spreads across her lips.
“The scrying spell, silly.” She waves me closer, sprinkling salt around the table. “Come on, I’ll do the protection circle first, we can locate your mate and then try to find the owner of the bracelet.”
“What? No,” I answer, queasiness and not a small dose of alarm slamming into my middle. Mum and Grandma have tried before and it never worked, getting my hopes up only to be crushed again.
“Yes! It’ll only take two seconds to scry for a mate, if it works. The bracelet owner will take longer.” She holds her hand out and wiggles her fingers towards mine that aren’t encased in metal. “Now, give me your hand.”
I sigh heavily, fully recognizing that I’m not going to get the band off my wrist without going along with her idea first.
“Fine, but then you work out how to get this thing off. There’s no freaking telling what it’s been embedded with, and I don’t want to end up looking like that one guy from the Mummy,” I whisper, images of a flesh-eaten, skeletal arm running through my mind.
I’ve known more than one witch to fall victim to a cursed piece of jewelry. Sometimes the stories aren’t exaggerating.
“It’s never like what’s in the movies. Now, be quiet. I need to concentrate,” Delores snaps.
I can’t stop my eye roll and try to stand still while she works her magic.
“I call upon my guides and ancestors to help me see clearly. May I receive clear and accurate visions for Chloe Georgina Landry.” She shuts her eyes tightly as she drops a chain with a tiny crystal attached from her fingers.
My gaze widens as it begins to spin, Delores locked in an expression of tense concentration. The chain spins out of control below her fingers, not that she seems aware of it.
I watch the crystal pendant spin like a top across the map before stopping abruptly, standing on a single point.
“It stopped,” I breathe, wondering out of all the times I’ve scried for my mate, why did it work now?
Thirteen other times I’ve performed the exact same spell, and not once did my scrying crystal ever spin. It definitely never halted like this.
“Well, that’s odd,” Delores says, looking at the map in puzzlement.
“What is it?”
“Either I’m wrong, and I never am, or your mate is in Egypt.”
“What?” I nudge her to get a better look at the map and sure enough, the crystal is firmly sitting on Cairo, Egypt on the map. “Oh, my gods.”
I breathe shakily, hands trembling a bit, my heart rate kicking up. Did she just find my mate?
“Okay, now the bracelet,” she says, oblivious to my panic.
Without giving me a moment to process, she touches the metal bracelet with a forefinger and places the chained crystal back over the map. I shuffle my weight from one foot to the other nervously, my toes curling and digging into the carpet as my stomach explodes with butterflies in flight.
I wince when Delores’ grip tightens on the bronze band that’s been cinching down on me for the last few hours, but hold myself still as she works her magic.
“I seek guidance to find who this belongs to. Ancestors, hear my call.”
With her words, the overhead lights flicker, and a strong wind comes out of nowhere, blowing the hair from my face. I go to ask if something's wrong but stop when I see how hard she’s concentrating.
I stare down at the spinning crystal she holds, floored and dismayed when it comes to a halt in the same spot on the map as just a moment ago.
“Hmm, well looks like you need to pack for desert travel.” An obnoxious laugh sounds from her.
“What?”
She nods her head and lets the crystal chain fall, smiling big when the crystal remains firmly standing in place. “You know, a long time ago it was a trend to send objects after a supernatural’s mate. Maybe your mate can take the bracelet off once you find him?”
Panic resurfaces anew with the words and my palms instantly sweat. “Delores, I can’t just go to freaking Egypt. There has to be something you’re missing,” I protest, my gaze darting across the big map like it has all the answers.
Her expression darkens as she glares at me, her lips pinching together in a hard line. “My magic is never wrong, Chloe. Besides, I got a vision,” she says proudly, wiggling her brows.
“What did you see?”
Visions are rare but, when performing locating spells, some witches actually get images of things.
She shrugs her petite shoulders. “Your mate. He’s quite fit too, if a bit dusty.”
I step back and slide back down into the desk chair, ignoring her continued laughter as my mind short-circuits over what I’m hearing.
“You saw him?”
“Mmhmmm,” she hums with a nod.
I blink and try to get my bearings as she starts tidying up her things like everything is settled.
A second ago, weird bracelet notwithstanding, I assumed I’d never find my mate.
I told myself yesterday that was the last time I’d scry for him.
Now, I find out I have one, he’s just in another country I’ve never been to.
“What do I do? It’ll take days for me organize a trip there,” I mutter, hoping against all hope she has some sage advice.
“Pack a bag and I’ll send you,” she announces, like it’s no big deal.
My jaw drops.
It is a big deal.
Travel is made easy with magic as witches and warlocks can blip where they need to go by just concentrating on the location. A block or two is no large distance to travel, but Egypt is a whole other country, which means she’ll need a day or two of rest afterwards if she does this.
“You’d do that for me?”
I guess she’s always been kind enough, even if she’s always snooty about it. She does it for gratification rather than actual kindness, though.
“I mean what are you going to do? Take the coach or train and then fly?” she scoffs, leaning against the table.
“Actually, yes, Delores. I take the train everywhere I go, remember?”
She shudders. “Gross. You sound almost human.”
It’s a fight to keep my face from screwing up into an offended expression, but I manage it. There’s nothing wrong with humans, she just has a superiority complex.
“Are you going to go grab some things or am I just sending you as is?” she asks with an expectant, impatient look.
“Oh my gosh, okay. Let’s do this,” I mutter and get to my feet, smoothing down my shirt over my soft tummy and wide hip bulges.
“You might want to change first, though.” Her gaze trails over my favorite black pants and t-shirt. “You know, make a good impression.”
“Says the woman decked out in bubble gum,” I snark back, turning towards the back of the store to pack a bag.
“Hurry up, little miss tomb raider,” Delores shouts. “I’m going to need a nap, and I don’t want to take it here.”
The metal bracelet decides to tighten down a bit more. I grimace.
Surely my mate will be able to get it off.
My stomach clenches, excitement thrumming through my limbs as I rush to grab things.
Holy shit. I have a mate and I’m going to Egypt!