Home > Books > Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)(15)

Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)(15)

Author:Linsey Hall

“Thank you.” As much as I wanted to send more business her way, I was in a legitimate hurry. “I really appreciate this. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. First-timer discount.” She grinned.

“No, I have to pay you something.”

“How about you come to girls’ night?”

“What’s that?”

“Some of my friends and I get together on Thursday night for drinks and a chat.”

“That sounds like more of a favor to me than a way to pay you back.” All the same, my heart leapt at the idea of having friends. Emma was cool, and I’d love to hang out with her.

She shrugged. “We need fresh blood, and I like you.”

“Thanks. I like you, too.” Okay, this was getting nerdy. Or sappy. It was getting something, and I needed to chill out. “Where and when?”

“Potions & Pinot, the wine bar on Foxglove Lane. Seven o’clock tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.” I looked around for our familiars, realizing that they’d never joined us. “Good luck finding Penelope. I’m sure Poa has led her around back to engage in some property destruction or some other kind of light crime.”

Emma grinned. “Penelope is one step ahead of her. Don’t worry about it.”

I grinned, then waved her off and turned back to the house. I propped my hands on my hips and frowned. “So, you’re not haunted. But there’s definitely something going on here. If it’s a curse, I’m going to get to the bottom of it and cure you.”

The house didn’t say thank you, of course. It only acknowledged me by strategically popping a floorboard that sent me onto my butt. I landed with a hard thud, and frustration flared.

No. I wouldn’t let this house get the better of me. “Cute, but you can’t scare me away. We’re going to be best friends, you’ll see.”

The house groaned again, and I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be back.”

I left, shutting the door carefully behind me. Poa was nowhere to be seen, but I knew she could take care of herself.

As quickly as I could, I hurried down to the boathouse and got in my car, then drove into town. It was a bit busier at this hour—nearly lunchtime—but I was still able to find a parking space pretty close to Seaside Spells.

I gave the sparkling blue sea a long, lingering look. Now that I lived here, I couldn’t get enough of it. The sight, the sound, the scent—it all cleared my mind and gave me perspective.

After I’d had my fill, I turned away and looked at Seaside Spells. The three-story building was made of the same stone as the other buildings in town, but it was by far the quirkiest one of the lot. There were four crooked chimneys and diamond-pane windows on the second floor. The blue sign over the door proclaimed, Seaside Spells: The Finest Purveyor of Magical Potions & Spells in the United Kingdom.

“All right, then,” I murmured. “You’re sure to have what I need.”

I crossed the street and pushed open the wooden door, entering the charming space. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and the shelves were filled with sparkling glass bottles and objects that vibrated with magic. To my right, a spiral of wands decorated the wall, each marked with a tiny label that displayed its special properties. Cauldrons were stacked against the stairs, and a fire in the hearth burned faintly, a welcome warmth after the autumn chill.

In front of the hearth, a black and white cat snoozed. The creature didn’t seem to notice me enter, or it didn’t care, because it didn’t so much as flick its tail.

An older woman bustled out from the back room, her white hair piled into a neat knot on top of her head. Her floral dress was the epitome of grandmotherly attire, and it made me wish that my grandmother had been more traditional. Or that she’d liked me more, at least. I wouldn’t have cared if she’d worn a leather catsuit and driven a Harley-Davidson if she’d shown she loved me.

Whoa.

Where had that come from? I’d known I’d had some demons, but that one had come screaming out at the sight of this woman. I should probably get myself into therapy at some point.

She smiled warmly at me. “Hello, dear. How can I help you?”

I smiled back at her, trying to banish any trace of my thoughts. “Hi. I’m here for a curse-revealing spell, if you have one.”

“Oh, certainly.” She picked up an enormous bottle of Coke and took a sip.

It was an entirely unexpected gesture, and I blinked.

“Oh, I know it’s far too much cola for any one person.” She waved her hand dismissively. “My granddaughter tells me that every time she sees me drinking one. But it keeps me young, I say.”

“It’s your spunky attitude that keeps you young.” A child’s voice preceded her into the room. “At least, that’s what my mum says.” She grinned as she stopped just inside the door. She had to be about eight years old, and she sported a pink sweatshirt that went all the way down to her knees. Her high pigtails were decorated with ribbons, and a bruise bloomed under one eye.

The woman laughed. “She’s right.” Then she frowned at the girl. “Catrina, what happened to your face?”

“Will Bellows.” Catrina grinned even wider. “But don’t worry, he looks worse.”

“You’re fist fighting?” The older woman glared. “Why?”

“Because mum said I couldn’t give him any more tails.” The little girl looked at me. “I gave him a squirrel tail earlier this year. Then a pig’s tail. But his mum complained to my mum, and well, here we are.” She shrugged and pointed to her eye.

The older woman groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’ll be the death of me, Catrina.”

“Didn’t you hear me say that he looks worse?”

“I did, darling. Well done. But we’re going to need for you to find another way to settle your differences with Will Bellows.”

I tried to repress the smile that threatened.

“Sweep the shop, darling.” The older woman handed the girl a broom. “Time to earn your keep.”

The girl grinned and grabbed the broom, then made it stand on its bristles as she focused her attention on it. Magic swelled in the air, smelling of bubble gum and flowers. As I watched, the broom began to scoot across the floor, doing a reasonably good job of sweeping.

“You’re very talented,” I said.

“I know.” Catrina grinned, but there was nothing particularly cocky about her. She just owned her magic, and I respected that. I needed to be more like this child.

The older woman came out from around the counter. “I’m Cecelia, dear. Owner of Seaside Spells. And this is Catrina, my honorary great-granddaughter.”

Catrina bowed, but her broom never stopped sweeping.

“I’m Isobel. I inherited the house on the hill outside of town.”

“Ah, so that’s why you want the curse-revealing spell.” Cecelia went to the shelf along the left wall and began poking through small glass bottles. “That place has something off about it, though I’m not sure it’s a curse.”

“I’m about to find out,” I said.

“Have you looked for a ghost?” Catrina asked.

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