‘Maybe you’re a poisoner, then. Like that mushroom murderer in Australia.’
‘Fair. Remind me never to cook for you. Especially risotto.’
Effie, in spite of herself, was intrigued. She lowered the book, which she realized she’d been brandishing this whole time. ‘You cook?’
‘Sure. Who doesn’t cook?’ Theo checked his smartwatch, which looked a bit the worse for wear. ‘Anyway, how about I leave you to whatever you were doing that got you all jumpy.’
There was something in his phrasing that put Effie back on the defensive.Hewas what had got her all jumpy!
‘I was ordering a rock tumbler,’ she snapped. What was wrong with ordering a rock tumbler? It was perfectly normal to order a rock tumbler.
‘So you can lob polished stones at my head next time I darken the threshold?’
‘Perhaps.’ Effie was tempted to smile, but she held firm. ‘Actually, you go ahead. I just remembered there’s a report I need to file before I go.’
This was a lie, but it was better than prolonging this excruciating conversation. Besides, she’d walked to the library, and the thought of walking home with Theo beside her was toomuch to deal with. She could already see all the ways she surely fell short in his eyes. She didn’t need to add to them.
Theo nodded slowly, then twined his scarf around his neck. ‘All right. Well, I’ll see you another time, I suppose.’
Effie nodded, directing him to the double doors at the front of the library, watching as he rubbed the nose of one of the stone gargoyles flanking the entrance. He waved, then made his way down the stairs and into the clear autumn night.
Effie sighed. A small part of her wished she’d taken Bonnie up on the discounted flirting lessons her sister had offered during high school. But what was the point? Theo wasn’t her type, and she certainly wasn’t his. Besides, it would probably be mere weeks before the bright lights and busy social calendar of the city lured him back.
Effie turned to shut off the lights, but as she did, anotherthudcame from somewhere in the reading room.
She swallowed, her wrists glimmering green. All right, sothathadn’t been Theo. But if not Theo, then who – or what?
Chapter 10
DOUBLE, DOUBLE, TOIL AND BIG TROUBLE
Bonnie
‘Dammit!’ Bonnie reached for a cloth to wipe away the pulp from the lemon that had just exploded all over the room.
Lemons were not only good conductors of electricity, but apparently, they were pretty good at channelling magic.
At least she’d had the good sense to bring over a pair of swim goggles from the house, or she’d be booking an emergency optometrist visit right now.
‘Sorry, little apartment,’ she whispered as she glanced around at the room above the bar. Sure, it was still mostly drop sheets and paint-swatch tests, and the floors were grooved from years of wear, but eventually it was going to be a cosy place filled with cushy seating and plush bedding.
Bonnie had fallen in love with it when she’d first toured the building with Hannah. It had been closed off, with a lock on the door, but Hannah had worked her realtor’s magic using her skeleton key, and they’d snuck in.
‘I had no idea this was even here,’ Hannah had said, pushing up her blazer sleeves as her inner interior designer took over. ‘Just imagine this with some cute boho furniture and soft rugs. And maybe a full rewiring so that you don’t electrocute yourself. There’s even a bathroom and a kitchenette!’
Bonnie had instantly seen its potential, and the opportunity to put some distance between her and Effie’s smothering motherly ways. Bonnie was tired of being chided about hershowers and her preference for putting the cereal boxes on the second shelf of the pantry instead of the third. Not to mention the whole outside porch-light situation. Or the endless battle over the order the cars should be parked in the driveway.
Anyway. The upstairs apartment still wasn’t liveable. The wiring needed to be addressed, something Bonnie was working around with the strategic use of battery-powered string lights and tea candles in hurricane lanterns. And the plumbing was almost certainly possessed by the spirit of a sewerage demon who had a horrifying habit of making the toilet water bubble from afar. But a fresh coat of paint and an extensive array of throw pillows had gone a long way towards turning the apartment into a place for Bonnie to spend some time. On her own. Without judgement.
Nevertheless, until then, it was the perfect out-of-the-way space to work on finessing Uncle Oswald’s bespelled drinks.
Bonnie flipped through the hand-printed pages of the mixology grimoire, her heart sinking. There were so many recipes, and they were all so complex, even discounting the whole magic part. The book wouldn’t be out of place on display in a hipster speakeasy in the city, with snooty quotes from tattooed bartenders from competing establishments (all of whom would be vying for their own mixology book deal).
It was the enchantment side of things that truly worried Bonnie. These were spells designed for use onpeople, and people were already complicated enough. Bonnie, of course, had tried the occasional love spell as a teen, but it was always difficult to tell whether the spell had worked or whether her non-magical charms had drawn in the object of her affections. Not that she was complaining. She’d also tried a few boob-enhancement and leg-lengthening spells, but once again, it was hard to know where nature ended and magic began. Effiehated her for it, but Bonnie couldn’t help being blessed in that area. Besides, it wasn’t that Effie was bad-looking. She just hid her looks under baggy cardigans and those stern glasses.
Bonnie, you’re getting distracted.
She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the task at hand. Uncle Oswald’s spells each targeted a specific type of interest in magic, such as horoscopes, palmistry, or ghostly premonitions, and then diverted interest away from that specific magic. The agate coasters, which were hexed to entice people towards Oswald’s shop, did the rest.
