“I’ll know,” she says simply and precedes me through a set of doors that lead through the kitchen of her private residence and out the back door to the garden. Nera follows and runs off to chase after a butterfly. “I come out here every chance I get. If I’m happy or sad, or if I’m scared…this is where I come.”
“I can see why,” I murmur and feel the power of Lucy’s magic pulsing all around me. It’s as strong as the pull I have to her. “I didn’t know that bluebells grew in New England.”
“With the right touch, they do,” she says and tickles her fingertips over the blue blossoms. “Ninety-nine percent of what I sell in the shop comes from either this garden or my greenhouse.”
“That’s impressive.”
“I can control the product,” she says with a shrug. “I know the plants were grown with the right intention and energy. I don’t want any of my customers taking home something sinister or tainted by bad energy.”
Her thoughtfulness soothes me.
“I’m sure your customers appreciate that very much.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” she replies and turns to me, propping her hands on her hips as if she’s still trying not to reach for me. “Why do I feel like I’ve met you before last night, Jonas?”
The sound of my name on her tongue is a jolt to my system. It’s familiar and surprising all at the same time.
“I don’t know.”
She narrows her eyes and studies me for a long moment. “I think that was the truth.”
“I have no reason to lie to you about that. I don’t know why. But I can say that I feel the same. You’re…familiar to me.”
I step toward her, unable to stay away any longer. Lucy swipes at something on her cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt behind.
Without thinking, I reach up, press my fingertips to her cheek near her ear, and use my thumb to wipe away the dirt.
To my surprise, she leans into my touch, pressing her cheek against my palm, and I feel the shift inside me.
From the look in her green eyes, she feels it, too.
“It can’t be,” I whisper as she closes her eyes and wraps her hand around my wrist. “It’s impossible.”
Nera whimpers from his spot at Lucy’s knee, and she opens her eyes.
“I have customers.”
“And I have to go,” I reply but don’t pull my hand away quite yet. “I’d like to see you tonight.”
Her smile spreads, and I swear the flowers around us open wider in response.
“I’ll be around. You’ll find me.”
And with that, she leads Nera back inside, and I’m left standing in the garden, wondering if what I feel is even possible.
Goddess, I hope so.
Chapter Three
Lucy
“You need selenite wands above the doorframes,” Breena says. Her hands are planted on her hips as she looks around Lorelei’s beach cottage, making a mental list. “And we’ll smudge the whole house before the day is through.”
“My mom didn’t leave any protection crystals,” Lorelei murmurs as she pulls a white sheet off the couch in the living room.
“They should be specific to you,” I remind her.
“I know that,” Lorelei replies. “I’m just surprised she didn’t protect or ward the cottage, what with it being empty for a few years now.”
“She did,” Breena says. “When I saw my mom this morning, she said that Astrid came to take all of her magic away so Lorelei could implement her own. But she did spread some eggshells and rosemary around the perimeter for protection in the meantime.”
“I thought you were going to stay here last night,” I say to Lorelei.
“No, I stayed at The Merchant,” she says, referring to a boutique hotel downtown. “I knew I’d need to clean the place up a bit first, and I didn’t know what I was working with. Now, I do. And I’m so grateful that you two are here to help.”
“It just needs some elbow grease,” I say with optimism as I glance around. The cottage is small but has all the modern conveniences. With three bedrooms and two bathrooms, it’s the perfect size and sits on enough property that there are no close neighbors. Her view to the east is the ocean, and to the west, nothing but forest. The gardens are lush, overgrown even, and the cottage is secluded.
Lorelei could celebrate the Harvest Moon sky-clad on the shore if she wanted to, and no one would see her.
And knowing my cousin, she just might do that. She’s never had a problem with nudity.
“I found a hag stone this morning,” Lorelei says with a smile. “I arrived about an hour before you two and took a walk on the shoreline, drawing in the energy of the water and collecting some sand for a spell I’m going to work later. And there it was, as if a faerie had set it there just for me to find.”
“Maybe they did,” Breena suggests with a smile.
“I think it’s a welcome home and a sign that you’re where you’re supposed to be,” I add and wander into the kitchen to wipe down the countertops. “I brought you a bunch of herbs and oils, and Breena brought candles and stuff, but we’ll have to go buy you some crystals. Do you have any at all?”
“Only a few,” she says with a shrug. “I need quite a few things, actually. But given there are only about a dozen metaphysical shops here in town, I’ll find it all eventually.”
Suddenly, the sound of a bell fills the air, and Lorelei and I hurry back to the master bedroom where Breena is ringing it.
She offers us a shy smile.
“There was just a little pocket of energy here I didn’t like. I sent it on its way.”
“I thought you said we’d smudge later,” I remind her.
“I like sound cleansing, as well,” she says. “What are you going to do with all of this space, Lora?”
Lorelei sighs and props her hands on her hips. “Well, in addition to not just dipping my toe back into the Craft but fully diving into the deep end, I’m going to write a book.”
“Wow, good for you. What’s it about?” Breena asks.
“Salem lore,” is Lorelei’s response. “And, yes, I know there are plenty of books out there on that subject, but I think I can add my own little twist to things. I’ve already sold it to a publisher and collected a nice advance.”
“Did you hear that, Breen?” I ask and wrap my arm around Lorelei’s shoulders. “Our cousin is a fancy author now.”
“I haven’t written it yet,” she says with a laugh and then turns narrowed eyes on me. “Interesting.”
“What?”
“It seems our Luciana is holding something back from us.”
Breena’s gaze turns to mine. “Spill it.”
“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that you’re psychic?” I ask Lorelei and then return to the kitchen to get to work cleaning the oven. “And I also hate being referred to by my given name.”
“That’s why I do it,” she says and leans on the doorframe as Breena sits on the countertop that I just cleaned. “Tell us.”