Chapter Nineteen #2
“Would you like to meet Colton more officially?” I pull open the drawer beneath the spirit board to reveal the rows of ghost goggles. While Xander and Elle talk in hushed tones with Sloane, no doubt going over all the other preparations for the retreat, I focus on impressing the assistant.
I explain how the glasses work, and when I get to the bit about the selenite charging station, Sebastian raises his eyebrows in challenge. “Why do you need a separate charging apparatus? Do you plan to neglect your work here?”
“Oh, I…I’m not a permanent fixture at the B&B.
My goal is for everything to function independent of ongoing magical intervention.
” Saying it out loud to a stranger punctures deep into the core of the loneliness I’ve been trying to ignore for days.
I love my business, love serving my clients and figuring out solutions to unusual problems, but nothing has been as challenging as this.
The creativity spell I’ve been tinkering with forever has only taken this long because it hasn’t gotten my full attention.
And the manor itself, living with Xander and Elle…
this place feels more like home than the empty apartment waiting for me.
God, the town, too. It’s so full of memories from college.
Quiet and quaint and cozy. Even C3’s expansion, while a thorn on the rose of this place, can’t detract in any real way, not with the original store holding strong in Windsfell.
When Dea sent me photos yesterday—proof of life for the plants she’s been watering for me—the images of my space didn’t bring up any feelings of homesickness or comfort.
Instead, they were a painful reminder of how little time I have left here.
The deep rumble of Sebastian’s voice draws me back to the moment. He’s wearing the glasses now, and I hear one side of his conversation with Colton. Sebastian’s questions are polite at first, solemn, before something Colton says makes him laugh.
He slips the glasses from his face and passes them back to me. “This is incredible. Truly. I’m surprised NACOW approved them so quickly.”
Cold dread washes over me. “Sorry?”
“You did register them with NACOW, correct?” Sebastian studies me, and the look of blank confusion on my face causes his brow to furrow.
“NACOW passed an initiative nearly a year ago that requires the formal registration of all new magic. They created an entire department to handle the paperwork. Surely, you’ve heard of it. ”
I shake my head as dread sours my stomach.
Fucking Nanette. This shit has my mother’s name written all over it, stifling innovation in the name of safety and tradition.
Never mind that, given the chance to properly experiment, we might find magical applications that mundanes appreciate as much as healing.
Not that we should have to cater our entire community to them anyway.
“I try to keep out of NACOW’s way,” I admit.
Sebastian hums his discontent. “We can apply for an extension on your behalf, but each of your inventions here will need to be submitted for approval within thirty days of commercial use.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls his fingers over the screen.
“This you?” he asks, flashing my own website’s contact form at me.
I nod. “Florentia Erikson is the head of the Registration Department. I’ll email you her contact info. ”
Flora. My little sister’s full name washes over me like a cold wave, leaving me numb. I remember her as a child, her expression gentle as she healed the cuts on my knees. Even though, as the older sister, I should have been helping her.
“It must be nice to be the president’s daughter,” Sebastian says, slipping his phone back into his pocket as my sister’s contact info lands in my inbox. “Florentia is the youngest director by at least a decade. Nepotism at its finest.”
“Flora is an incredibly talented witch,” I cut in, defensive of her despite our estrangement. “She’ll excel in that role.” Whether she wanted it is another matter entirely, but it’s not like I’d know. It’s been so long…
Bitterness elbows its way to the forefront of my mind.
I shouldn’t care. She obviously doesn’t care about what happened to me.
She never reached out. Never called. Never messaged me online.
For all I know, Flora gave up her dream of being a healer before our mother shoved her into my old spot at NACOW, and now following in Nanette’s footsteps is all she wants.
Sebastian cocks his head to the side. “I thought you didn’t know about the ordinance.”
Shit. “I don’t. I mean, I didn’t. I…” I scramble for an explanation.
I don’t want these witches to know I’m the disgraced daughter of NACOW’s leader.
Not before Sloane’s investment is finalized and I secure the bonus that could save my business.
“She was a few years behind me, but Flora and I went to the same high school.”
A gentle touch of my arm stops me before I blabber any further.
“Pippa, could you give Sloane a demonstration of the ghost room.” Elle’s voice is gentle at my ear, the warmth of her closeness against my back settling some of my nerves.
I don’t know whether she heard my family’s name or could sense my distress, or if she truly wants the demonstration for her investor, but I’m grateful for her touch all the same.
I plaster a smile on my face. “Happily.”
Everyone follows me into the sitting room, and I breathe deep, letting go of the tension from my conversation with Sebastian while drawing fresh magic into my body. It’s fortifying, a playful dance in my chest before it spills down to my hands.
“This particular aspect of the manor’s magic isn’t complete. There are a number of variables to solve, but I can give you a taste of what to expect.” I explain what I’ve set up, and when all attention is on me, I pour magic into the crystal grids at each corner of the room.
The crystals hum gently as their energies shift into harmonic alignment. Then, bit by bit, the forms of the manor’s ghosts come into view.
Jenn T sits on the edge of the couch, with Jen B sprawled on the cushions on the other end.
Colton walks into the room next, Harry on his heels.
“Still no Laney?” I ask, and there’s a flash of guilt in Colton’s eyes.
Jen B snorts. “They needed some introvert time. If Laney knew you were getting them a puppy, they might not have agreed to stay.”
Colton crosses his arms. “I’m not a puppy.”
Jenn T pats his cheek. “Of course you’re not,” she says mockingly, but Colton seems to miss her tone.
“Incredible,” Sloane says on a breathy exhale. “I won’t want this in use during my retreats, but it’s an impressive bit of magic. Elle says you intend to make it operate independent of you?”
Their praise adds another layer of warmth alongside the magic flowing through me. “That’s the goal, yeah.”
Sloane rests a hand on my shoulder. “NACOW may try to stifle ingenuity, but I find it’s an exceptionally valuable skill in a witch.”
“Ingenuity is Pippa’s whole thing,” Xander says, pride in his voice. “Tell Sloane about the creativity spell you’re working on.”
“I’ve had to put it on pause for this project,” I admit, suddenly nervous to be the center of Sloane’s intense attention.
But then I think of Dea, and I square my shoulders.
Impressing Sloane was half the point of taking this job.
Gaining access to either their money or their influence would take my business to new heights, and the creativity spell would add so much good to the world.
More art. More authentic stories to build bridges of empathy between people.
“Once the spell is complete,” I explain, “it will allow the recipient to tap into their most creative self. I’m keeping it broad to work for traditionally creative endeavors, like art or writing, while also weaving creativity into other areas, like business. Marketing plans. That sort of thing.”
A contained smile tips one corner of Sloane’s lips. “I think you and I should talk after my retreat.” They pull a wallet from their suit jacket and hold out a business card.
I accept it with trembling fingers. “It would be my pleasure.” Behind Sloane, Xander gives me a wicked grin and a thumbs-up. Elle’s proud smile reminds me of the look she gave me in her bed, both of us thoroughly sated and lost in each other.