Page 25 of Spell Ya Later

“Water. If you remember the light bulb incident from last week...it exploded in a bunch of water.” A sad smile stretches across her lips. “She used to make these beautiful water orbs full of light in the evenings. When she and I would have picnics outside to watch the stars.”

It’s impossible for me to imagine them as mother and daughter. As a loving family unit. Part of my heart breaks watching my grandma hurt.

She shakes her head. “Anyway. It makes sense that you have not connected with your element yet. You wouldn’t know to look for it, and you’ve been repressing your magic. I’m sure once we start training it will come to you quickly.”

“What about Elizabeth? How did her magic come to her when she didn’t know what she was? And are you named after her? You don’t talk about your parents much, why would they name you after someone who had such a horrible life?”

“I should’ve known better than to open the floodgates with you,” she chuckles, no actual annoyance in her tone. “Elizabeth wasn’t actively repressing her magic, she just didn’t know it existed. You have to take into account that magic was something people were more aware of at that time, even if it was for negative reasons.”

Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I lean back, folding my knees up to my chest. Maybe I understand the plushy chairs now.

“As for my parents.” She pauses. “They weren’t bad people. Just not people meant to be parents. They loved me as much as they could, but the only reason they had me was to continue the lineage. Duty called and they answered. It’s why they named meElizabeth. My mother used to say that I carried the future of the line in me.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“It certainly was. Then I met...Well, I had your mother, and I didn’t want her around that. So she and I stole away to a small town in Ohio and made a life for ourselves. Almost like James and Abigail in a way.”

I know not to ask about my grandfather. Even Mom protected Grandma by not talking about him. Whoever he was—is—he is a non-starter.

“And on that note.” She slaps her knees. “You should go upstairs early. You certainly won’t be able to concentrate after all that, and it’s only an hour before closing.”

“Are you sure, Grandma? I don’t want to leave you to fend on your own.”

“What, with all of the customers chomping at my curtain?” She smiles. “Go. Do something that makes you happy.”

I plan on doing exactly that.

Chapter 10

Bookstore Boys

The bookstore is in a tiny building in Shaker Heights. Walking in, the floor is worn wood covered in multiple rugs that lead into the main area of the store. Skylights illuminate walls literally covered in books. The ceiling is painted a silky black.

Wait, was that a cat? This place has acat?

That’s it. I’m living here.

I should get a cat. Lord knows Rosie would probably enjoy the company. Although Grandma mentioned once that socializing adult cats can be a real bitch.

But really—what is a witch without a familiar?

“Hazel!” I turn to Noah as he walks in the front door. “Hi!”

I have to do my damnedest not to melt into a puddle. It may be a losing battle. His shaggy brown hair is especially tousled today, as if he’s spent all Monday running his fingers through it.

I’d rather it was me tousling it.

“Hey!” I reply with a smile.

With a confidence that I really appreciate, he wraps me up in his arms. I barely meet his shoulder, my face pressed instead into the soft fabric of his cream-colored sweater. The electric shock is more of a gentle, consistent buzz under my skin as heholds me to him. His fingers tangle in my hair as I take a deep breath.

Bergamot, neroli, and green tangerine. And a hint of the weathered pages of a book.

Why in the shit am I able to identify those specific scents? It must be a witchy-herby thing.

“Have you ever been here before?” he asks as he pulls back from the hug. I was right, he can wrap those lanky limbs around me fewer times than I’d like.

“I haven’t. Why don’t you show me around?”