Page 23 of Spell Ya Later

I’m too chickenshit to ask Grandma. I want to know about the dreams, but I don’t want to know. My throat closes up at the thought of actually verbalizing it, not to mention what Grandma would think.

As far as Noah goes, I’m scared partially because I’m convinced she’d know exactly what it is, and partially because I know for a fact she’d have questions about Noah. And I’m enjoying keeping his existence to myself for now.

Laura will sniff him out sooner than later anyway. Hell, she was there when I met him. I’m surprised she hasn’t sniffed him out already. She’s like a bloodhound when it comes to men.

My eyes flit over the books on the shelf. What am I even looking for?Electric Currents Between Random People? I’m sure there’s a book with that title. Definitely.

Ugh.

Rosie jumps up on the shelf in front of me and knocks a book toward me.

The Women of The Pruitt Line. Well, hello there. Who are you?

I scratch behind her ears until she purrs, pull the book off the shelf, and examine the back. A comprehensive family tree with biographies of the Pruitt line all the way to Salem.

We came from Salem?

How do I knownothingabout my family history? Rage boils in my chest, threatening to burn up my throat and into my mouth.

A breeze rustles my auburn hair as I stand there attempting to control my breathing. Breathe in, breathe out.

Traitor. Liar. Controlling bitch.

“That’s something every Pruitt woman should read,” Grandma says, interrupting my thoughts. “We have a very interesting story.”

“Do we? I had no idea.” Venom drips from every word as I clutch the book to my chest as if it were my very life in my hands.

She sighs, putting her hand on my arm. Her bangles jangle with the motion. “You have every right to be angry. You have every right to feel the way you do. Just remember not to let the anger eat at you. Anger can turn us into someone we no longer recognize.”

I nod, walking back to the counter. Do I want anger to eat at me and twist me into something evil and bitter? No. But damn is it an uphill battle right now.

The book makes athunkas I drop it on the counter next to the cash register. It’s heavy and imposing, the leather cover decorated with flowers and embossed cursive text.

The pages slightly stick together as I open the book. It’s been a while since anyone has read it. With delicate motions, I turn to the first real page.

Elizabeth Pruitt, 1672–1692

That now almost familiarscent of a fresh rainstorm washes over me as I look at the name. Magic. As if her very essence has been shared with me through these pages.

The official beginning of our line, or at least the first record of it. It all starts with Elizabeth.

Is Grandma named after her? I always thought my middle name came from Grandma, but does it come from this woman?

I settle on my bar stool and prepare myself for the story of Elizabeth Pruitt, first of her name.

Chapter 8

Elizabeth Pruitt

Elizabeth Pruitt was born in Salem, Massachusetts in 1672. She is the first documented case of witchcraft in the Pruitt family line, and as such is considered the original matriarch of the family. Since Elizabeth, every female born has been blessed with magic.

Her parents were George and Dorothy, and it is unknown if either possessed magic. Elizabeth never mentions it in her journals—she only speaks of her own experiences with magic, starting at the age of twelve. It’s been assumed that this corresponds with her first course.

These journals are published separately.

Her family was seemingly respected in the community and had more than enough to provide for themselves. As their only child, Elizabeth describes herself as being doted upon by her parents and having a loving, yet formal, relationship with them.

At twelve, Elizabeth began experimenting with her new blessing of magic. It first manifested in the form of telekinesis, later redefined as a special connection with the air element. She expanded her skills quickly, coming up with many of the spells still used today.