I’d just drop by after work and explain that I was rushed and stressed and hopefully she’d understand. Hopefully I hadn’t just made an enemy of the new neighbor...

  Chapter Two

  If I pressed the phone any harder to my face, I was going to have a permanent indent in my cheek, but I couldn’t seem to make myself let up.

  “I’m sorry, how long did you say it would take to get a shipment in?” I crossed my fingers, hoping I’d get the answer I was looking for, all the while trying to soothe the roiling anxiety in my belly. Please let me have misheard the voice on the other end of the line. Please let them have said days, not weeks.

  There was a snap of gum popping and then some obnoxiously loud chewing. “Yeah, uh huh. It’ll be about fifteen weeks before we can get anything out to you.”

  Yep, just what I was afraid of. My stomach soured. “Fifteen weeks! What if I made a smaller order, could you get it out to me faster?”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” The tone was a lot more bored than apologetic. “But Rhapsody scents and oils prizes itself on the quality of its merchandise, and we have a backlog of orders. There’s nothing I can do.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Okay, thank you anyway.”

  After I hung up, I just held my phone to my forehead for a long moment and tried not to cry.

  My potions were magic, the recipes passed down through my family from my grandmother to my mother to me. But I couldn’t make them out of nothing. I needed scented oils, candles, wax, bottles to put the concoctions into. And I had to be careful about what I used. The oils especially: I didn’t want to use supplies I wasn’t sure about or wasn’t familiar with. My normal supplier, the one I’d been working with for years, had had a problem with their distilling process and had shut down production until they could fix the problem.

  It was a good thing that they were taking the situation so seriously, but it left me scrambling to try and get some supplies until Rhapsody could get back up and running. On top of needing to replenish my own store, and the festival coming up, I was scraping the barrel of what I had left in stock, and things were going to be getting pretty dire very soon.

  Finding a new source that was up to my standards and also willing to actually send me what I needed (if they even had the stock on hand) was proving to be more difficult than I’d thought. I dropped my hands to the dark wood of my shop counter, and the wood trembled, glass vials ticking together faintly. Just another sign of my increased abilities—and not the sort of reminder I needed at the moment.

  Ever since I’d taken up Wanda’s offer to join her coven, Circle Scapegrace, I’d been having a few issues. Nothing to do with the coven itself, of course. I got along with everyone. Wanda was my BFF, Betanya and Olga were nice and usually willing to offer some advice as the older members of the group. Imani was extremely friendly and fun to be around and Maverick, well, Maverick was Maverick. I couldn’t say we were close or even friends, but I also didn’t think we were enemies. We just... were. I was still a little wary of him. Not because he was a Blood Warlock, although that was what made most people wary of him (if they were in the know), but because he was, well, kind of a jerk a lot of the time.

  Though ever since he’d started hanging around and befriending our own resident Chief of Police and Faerie Princess in hiding, Taliyah Morgan, he’d mellowed out a lot, so maybe calling him a jerk wasn’t entirely fair.

  No, the trouble was that the joining ceremony we’d all performed had been a little more ‘literal’ than I’d anticipated. I mean, covens formed bonds in order to bolster their magic and to grant protection to one another through their joined power. I’d thought my joining was symbolic, a nice gesture from a friend who wanted me included because, other than my potions, I didn’t have magic (truly, I was more human than not). Except when you throw a bunch of witches together, including two who had been blooded by vampires, both Wanda and Maverick, their changing powers could do all sorts of things.

  As a result, my magic was growing, changing, and a little worryingly unstable.

  With all the stress I was under, I was lucky I’d just rattled a few bottles.

  Deep breaths helped, so I stood behind my ancient cash register with my eyes closed and focused on breathing in deeply for a count of three and exhaling just as deeply for a count of three.

  It helped that my shop was one of my favorite places. Finn and I had come to Haven Hollow to start up a new life in a farmhouse that I’d bought unseen, hoping for something better than what we’d known in Los Angeles. I’d had big dreams in place, and honestly, I’d surpassed most of them. I’d made fantastic friends, and really found my place in the Hollow.

  The shop was one of the best parts. All heavy wood and glass shelves and cabinets, it reminded me of an old-time apothecary shop. But instead of jars of pills and leeches, there were delicate glass vials in a rainbow of colors, carefully stoppered, with little white cards explaining exactly what each potion did. Anointed candles dotted the shelves, with fairy lights strung up behind the displays to make the colored glass look like it was glowing.

  I was proud of what I’d built in Haven Hollow, and the fact that my skills were able to support Finn and me—well, that was what made something so silly as a supply chain problem so upsetting.

  The bright peal of Finn’s laughter dragged me out of my funk. The answering chuckle, much deeper than my son’s, caused my heart to give a little double thump.

  Finn and Andre had showed up after school let out for the day so that Andre could give Finn his next lesson. Andre had also brought Ouire, the leather-bound tome that acted more like a golden retriever than a book, and Finn had been ecstatic to see his friends again.

  It was a real struggle not to hover around the door to the back room. I trusted Andre, I did. Probably more than I should have, since we hadn’t really had a chance to spend all that much time together, between his job as a traveling stage magician and his other work as a true Magician. Even after he bought one of the houses up the road, in order to be closer to Finn (whom he’d sort of taken under his proverbial wing), I’d been holding back, not wanting to rush things.

  But the idea of Finn learning magic and being a Magician still made me nervous. Maybe it wasn’t fair, considering that I was a Gypsy who made potions and was also a member of a coven, but I was an adult, and any risks I took were on me. Finn was fourteen, still a child, my child.

  Even before his powers as a magician had become evident, he’d been targeted by a poltergeist, kidnapped by faeries, and stalked by a crazy vampire. Once his own magic started bubbling up, he’d drawn the attention of a Magicless, a Magician who’d lost her hope and turned dark, and one who’d targeted and tormented Finn for weeks, without my knowing it. All the while, she’d been attempting to break my son—to turn him into something like her. Thank God she’d failed. But, even so, the memories still haunted me.

  Finn’s abilities and tricks might have given him some protection against things like that, but they also put a bigger target on his back. Honestly, the only thing that helped me hold myself together was the vision I’d had, for lack of a better word.

  Almost a year ago, on Christmas Eve, I’d had a dream. It hadn’t felt like a dream though, it had felt real. I’d been able to touch and taste things, and the dreamworld I’d experienced hadn’t faded at the edges like it should have. In the dream, it was five years in the future, and it gave me a glimpse of what my life would be like if I’d married Marty. And that projected life hadn’t been bad, exactly. But it also hadn’t been what I wanted in a relationship. I’d wanted and still wanted more.

  But that hadn’t been the part of the vision or dream that had stuck with me. The part that continued to revisit me were the moments when I’d been able to spend time with a future Finn. The difference between him at thirteen (last Christmas) and eighteen was astonishing. I’d gotten to see my son grown up, in control of his own magic. He was tall, handsome, kind and patient, and I’d never been prouder to be his mom.

  I still didn’t know if the dream was really a vision sent by the Holiday Spirit like Noel had claimed, or if the dream had just been a warning from my own subconscious that I shouldn’t marry Marty. But if there was even a chance of Finn growing into that young man I met, then I was going to do everything in my power to help get him there.

  Even if I had to get a white-knuckled grip on my anxiety and just hang on.

  It was a slow night at the store, which was probably for the best really since I was running out of stock and didn’t have any way to make more. I’d rather it was slow than have to tell people I not only was out of product, but I also wasn’t sure when everything would be back in stock. So, just when I’d decided to call it a night and close early, Andre and Finn had come out of the back room with Ouire bounding around at their heels, the red ribbon bookmark flapping like a wagging tail.

  “Mom, I figured out another trick! Wait until you see it,” Finn crowed, pulling his sleeve back to show the new number inked onto his skin. 14 it read. I knew it wasn’t a tattoo, per se, that it was just something that happened when a Magician mastered a new spell or ‘trick’, but it still made my heart drop to see it. The stark black ink against my son’s pale skin made it seem like the magic was branding him, somehow.

  That was also a very high number, which made me suspicious that Finn was dream walking again, sneaking out while he was asleep to learn more tricks from Ouire. The saddest part was that even if that was exactly what Finn was doing, I couldn’t actually stop him. I was just grateful that Andre had agreed to mentor him—to help him make sense of the magician world, something I knew nothing about. Since Finn had started taking lessons from Andre, Finn had learned how to control his power so he wouldn’t wear himself down. He’d learned to recognize his limits and not to blow past them, and that was something that relieved me greatly.

  I didn’t want my fears to steal that glowing, proud expression off Finn’s face, so I swallowed it all back and gave him a beaming smile instead.

  “Wow, that’s awesome! You’ll have to show me when we get home.” I kept the grin in place, but I glanced at Andre, just to see if I could read anything from his expression.

  There wasn’t any stress or worry there that I could see. If anything, he looked almost as pleased as Finn.

  “He’s a real natural,” Andre said in his smooth, British accent. He clapped a hand onto Finn’s shoulder and beamed down at my son, who was almost as tall as he was. And that was really saying something because Andre was a tall man, standing easily over six feet. If I’d had to guess, I would have pegged him at 6’2 or 6’3. And with his dark hair, blue eyes, light skin and the way he was always dressed in a dark sweater and slacks, he looked like a modern Mr. Darcy come to life.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone take to magic so quickly,” he continued.

  I didn’t wince, but it was close.

  “Well, it’s time to head home,” I said, forcing my attention back to my son. The last thing I needed was to continue gawking at Andre like I’d never seen an incredibly handsome man before. “You’ve still got boring, non-magical homework to do, I’m afraid.”

  Finn gave a good natured, “Aw, Mom,” but his smile didn’t falter.

  I grabbed my purse from under the counter, and got my keys ready to lock up the store. “Andre, can I give you a lift home?”

  When I turned to face Andre, he looked surprised for some reason. I wasn’t sure why he looked surprised, because he did live up the road from us, so it wasn’t as if I’d be going out of my way or anything. As to the fact that we were now basically neighbors, that fact hadn’t led to us seeing each other more often than when he’d lived in Portland. The man was easily the busiest person I knew, always traveling here and there. And, while I knew he owned a car, I also knew he liked to walk when the weather was nice. And if I was secretly hoping that, on the ride home, I might invite him to stop in for coffee while Finn did his homework, well then that was between me and the blush I was trying to will out of my cheeks.

  Andre blinked at me, and seemed to be searching my face. His smile ticked up, just a little, and something in his shoulders relaxed. “I’d like that, thank you.”

  I turned away, so he and Finn wouldn’t see the dopey smile that crossed my face. “Alright, let’s get going.”

  Chapter Three

  Finn was almost immediately occupied with Ouire in the back seat, seconds after I pulled away from the curb. Ouire was sprawled, pages down, across his lap, the red ribbon bookmark flicking occasionally like a dog’s paws when they’re dreaming.

  I had to force myself to pay attention to the road instead of cooing at the rear-view mirror, but they really were sweet together.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Andre said.

  I glanced at his profile out of the corner of my eye. He really was distractingly handsome, with just a touch of gray in his dark hair and the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. There were a few lines at the corners of his eyes, and on either side of his mouth—the sorts of lines people got when they smiled easily and often.

  The traffic was light, my headlights passing over the other stores running the length of Main Street. “Sure,” I answered. “So, how are you finding living in the Hollow? It must be a big change, to be settled in one place.”

  We’d passed by Sweeter Haunts, Haven Hollow’s Halloween themed candy store and Wanda’s Witchery where Wanda sold enchanted clothing and were now approaching Stomper’s Creamery before Andre answered.

  “It’s different,” he said slowly. “But in a good way, I suppose. I’m enjoying having a base of operations of sorts.”

  Well, that made me feel a little better about him uprooting—or perhaps planting?—his whole life to settle in Haven Hollow in order to teach Finn.

  “Besides,” he laughed. “Settling in a Hollow isn’t exactly like buying a picket fence in Portland or some such. Things are never dull here, that’s for certain.”

  He was right, unfortunately, and lately, that hadn’t felt like it was such a good thing. I couldn’t help but frown as we drove past an empty store with a ‘for sale’ sign in the window. What would it mean for Finn and me if enough supernatural folk moved away that the town couldn’t qualify as a Hollow any longer? We’d lose protection as much as anyone else would. I had to wonder if something like that could even happen. If enough supernatural people left a place, was it no longer considered a Hollow? I figured I’d have to ask Roy.

  “I don’t know. I could do with a little dull.” I tried to keep my voice light, instead of brittle. A little bit of peace didn’t seem like too much to ask. I found myself glancing in the rear view mirror because I didn’t like discussing this sort of stuff in front of Finn. But from what I could tell, Finn had dropped into a light sleep—at least, his eyes were closed and his neck was lolling to one side.

  Andre turned to look at me for long enough that I drummed the steering wheel with my fingers. It was a little unsettling, since I couldn’t exactly look back at him and not drive off the road at the same time.

  “Something doesn’t have to be magic for it to be an exciting adventure, Poppy.”

  The quiet words made my mouth go dry, and I carefully steered off Main Street and took the side road that would take us closer to the edge of town where we both lived. I wanted to see Andre’s expression, because there were a few ways to take those words. My heart started beating double time.

  I decided to take that as a lead in. “So, Andre–”

  There was a sudden, strange whooshing sound then, and the car shuddered, pulling hard to the right. The jeep juddered, shaking as I fought to keep control. An odd, rhythmic, flapping started up outside, and I finally managed to wrestle the jeep onto the gravel shoulder as I came to a stop, my heart now pounding through me.

  “What in the world was that?” It was a struggle to get the words out around my heart which was lodged firmly in my throat.

  Andre had braced himself against the dashboard, his expression serious. “I think you might have blown a tire,” he said, apologetic for some reason.

  I stared at him for a long moment, then let my forehead drop to the steering while I groaned. I didn’t need a flat tire right now (not that I ever needed one, but today had been a hard enough day as it was). I couldn’t afford a flat tire. Not with no sales, no potions, and no supplies.

  The sound of a seatbelt clicking off had me jerking my head up in time to see Andre opening his door.

  “What are you doing?”

  He was already rolling the sleeves of his black turtleneck up, revealing strong forearms dotted with little black numbers, just like the numbers that had started appearing on Finn’s arms.

  “I was going to have a crack at changing the tire. Have you got a jack?”

  “Um, yeah, I do,” I stammered, raking my hair back from my face. “But you don’t have to do that. I can call roadside assistance.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Andre looked strangely cheerful for a man about to do hard, greasy labor—especially dressed as he was. Furthermore, I could only imagine the man’s wardrobe had to have cost him a fortune because it was in a word—nice. Really nice.

  He closed the door before I could protest again, and I fumbled for my seatbelt after making sure my hazard lights were on.

  “What’s going on?” Finn rubbed his eyes, waking up and looking like he was six years old again.

  “We got a flat tire. Andre and I are fixing it, so don’t worry.” I slipped out of the Jeep, and hurried around to where Andre had gotten the spare off the back of the Jeep and was now wrenching the car up with the jack.

  I helped as much as I could, and between the two of us, we managed to wrestle the spare tire into place and loaded up the old and shredded one. By the time we climbed back into the car, we were both sweaty, tired, and more than a little grimy, thanks to the road dust.

  It made for a quiet drive the rest of the way, both of us needing to catch our breath. I drove carefully back to the farmhouse, keeping an eye out for any debris that might have caused the first flat. I definitely couldn’t afford another one.