She sighed as a woman rounded the corner, stomping her heavy, black boots through the puddles, disrupting the dance of the downpour. Though the hood of her jacket hid her face in shadows, the woman’s deep-magenta aura and purposeful strides couldn’t be mistaken. Rain leaned away from the window and clutched the pendant hanging from her neck. Though the goddess seemed to have abandoned her, a quick prayer wouldn’t hurt.
The woman banged on the door as a bright bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a massive clap of thunder so loud it rattled the windows of the nineteenth-century building. She squealed and knocked harder.
As tempting as it was to leave her landlord out in the storm, Rain rose from her chair and opened the door. “I’m closed, Ingrid.”
“I’m not here for cake.” Ingrid folded her umbrella and left it on the front steps before striding inside and slipping the hood off her head. She shook out her crimson curls and huffed as she examined the wet ends of her hair. “Your rent is late, and your fees need to be paid.”
“Fees for a coven to which I don’t belong.” Rain walked deeper into the storefront, but Ingrid lingered in the doorway.
“Do we have to have this conversation every month? If you want to operate as a witch, you either join the coven or you pay the fees. It’s not a difficult concept.”
She put her hands on her hips in a challenging pose. The concept wasn’t the difficult thing. “Then let me join the coven.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Only real witches can join.”
The corner of Rain’s mouth twitched as a spark of heat flashed through her body, and she inclined her chin. “I am a real witch.”
“You’re cursed.”
“Then let me join.” Snow padded in from the back room and set a stack of freshly-washed plates on the counter.
Ingrid let out an irritated sigh and wiped the dripping hair from her forehead. “We’re not taking chances with your sister either. You two don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Connollys never quit.” Snow stood next to Rain and crossed her arms, her platinum blonde hair swishing as she shook her head.
Rain would argue to her last breath with any witch who challenged her heritage. Yes, she was cursed, but magic did flow through her veins. Unfortunately, though, even joining the coven wouldn’t help her current situation. She sat on a barstool. “I don’t have the money.”
“Why not?”
“Business has been slow, but I have a potential wedding client coming in tomorrow. If they book, I can pay the rent or the fees. Not both. Not now. Can I have an extension?”
Ingrid opened her mouth as if to speak, but she closed it again. “You know I can’t show you any kindness. Renting the building to you is all the risk I’m willing to take. I wouldn’t have even let you sign the lease if I’d known about your curse beforehand.”
Rain cringed inwardly. She’d been required by law to inform the coven priestess of her curse when she moved here, but she’d purposely signed the lease on the shop before she did. It wasn’t a selfless act, but what else could she have done? She needed the prime location if her business would ever take off. “It’s not a kindness. Decent landlords give their tenants extensions all the time. One more month.”
“I’m not even going to chance being decent. Late fees started accruing last week. If I don’t receive your payment in two weeks, you’ll be evicted.” Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I don’t like being this way. It’s not you…”
She stiffened. “It’s my curse. I understand.”
Ingrid attempted a sympathetic smile, but her mouth merely twitched as she opened the door. “Don’t take it personally.”
Rain returned the gesture with a faux grin. “How could I not?”
Snow locked the door after the landlord left and turned to her sister. “She’s right, you know? You shouldn’t take it personally. I bet they’d all love you like I do if they got to know you.”
“It’s not about being loved. Or even liked.” She sighed and shook her head. “The second people find out about my curse, they act like I’ve got a contagious disease.” And she deserved the punishment. She was lucky she’d gotten settled in before word of her curse spread through the community.
“They’re being cautious.”
She folded her hands in her lap and picked at her pale-pink nail polish. “What am I going to do? If I lose the bakery, I’ll be on the street.”
Snow sat on the stool next to her and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. How long had it been since another witch had gotten close enough to touch her?
Leaning into her sister’s side, Rain let the affection calm her. “Careful comforting me. Don’t be too kind.”
“Don’t be silly; I’m comforting myself.” She laid her head on Rain’s shoulder. “We can stop selling the enchanted cookies. If we’re a human bakery, you won’t owe the fees.”
Rain let out a dry laugh. “The spells are what pay the bills between weddings.”
“True. Spellbound Sweets wouldn’t be much without the spells.” She sat up straight. “Let me pay the fees. I’m the one operating as a witch anyway. I should be the one paying for the license.”
Rain rose to her feet and shuffled around the counter to put the plates away. She’d drained her savings account to get the place up and running, not allowing her sister to pay for something as small as a can of rainbow sprinkles. It was the only way to make certain her curse didn’t affect Snow. “It’s a witch’s bakery. My bakery. If you paid, it would be a kindness. I won’t let you take that risk.”
“What’s the worst that could happen? Pneumonia for a week? A sprained ankle?”
Rain closed the cabinet, her heart sinking at the thought of what her curse could do to her sister. “You could get run over by a streetcar. Or struck by lightning. Or worse.”
“Yeah, okay. Good point. The appointment tomorrow sounds promising, though. Werewolves tend to stick together, so if you can land the alpha’s wedding, we’ll have our foot in the door with their pack. They could bring in a lot of business.” She spun a circle on the barstool and grinned. “Werewolves like to eat.”
A tiny flame of hope flickered in her core before dying out. Her shoulders drooped. “Until another werewolf opens a bakery. They prefer to do business with their own kind. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Well, there aren’t any werewolf bakeries now, and now is all that matters at the moment.” Snow leaned her elbow on the counter, resting her chin on her fist. “Let’s focus on landing this gig, and it will solve half your problems.”
“And the other half?”
She shrugged. “We’re Connolly witches. We’ll figure something out.”
Rain smiled at her sister. Snow risked so much by being here every day, and gratitude didn’t begin to describe the emotions Rain felt for her. “You’re a Connolly witch. I’m just a Connolly.” Or so everyone seemed to believe.
“Your powers may be bound, but there’s magic in your blood.” Snow leaned her forearms on the counter. “How many ingredients are left to find?”
She’d received an unbinding spell from the national witches’ council in the mail three months ago on enchanted paper. Each time she retrieved an ingredient, the next one revealed itself. “I’ve got two ingredients left. As soon as I get my hands on some Bauhinia harvested by a priestess beneath a full moon in Peru, the last one will be revealed, and we’ll be good to go. Do you really think it will work?”
Snow lifted an eyebrow. “Are you doubting my powers, sister?”
She laughed. “Of course not. But the council said only an ultimate act of selflessness could break the spell and unbind my powers.”
“Then they said seven years of repentance is enough.”
“I know that’s what the letter said. It seems strange that they’d change their minds though. I bet Mom had something to do with it.”
“So what if she did?” Snow lifted her hands as she shrugged and dropped them to her sides. “Maybe they wer
en’t specific enough in what an ‘ultimate act of selflessness’ is. Maybe they feel like you’ve learned your lesson.”
She traced the marble pattern on the countertop with her finger. “I guess.” If the lesson was to put others before her powers, she hadn’t had a choice but to learn. She’d been powerless for seven years. “Whatever their reasoning…I want my magic back.”
“I understand. This will work.” Snow stepped around the counter and gave her sister a hug. “I’m going home. Can I have today’s pay so I don’t get run over by a streetcar on my way?”
Rain chuckled and took two twenties from the cash register. “Be safe.”
“Always.”
After her sister left, Rain locked the door and turned off the lights before padding to her storage closet-turned-bedroom in the back of the shop. If this unbinding spell worked, and her curse could be broken, she might be able to save the bakery.
Bauhinia itself was easy to come by, but the stipulation that it be harvested by a priestess beneath a full moon made it difficult to find. She’d located a shop in Peru who could fill the order, but the cost of the ingredient, plus international shipping, had set her back several hundred dollars. But if she could get rid of this curse and be accepted into the witches’ community again, she’d have more than enough business to pay all her bills.
Though she’d never achieve a spot on the national council after what she’d done to earn the curse, she might be able to work her way up in the coven once they let her in. At least she could hold a position of power within the community. It was better than nothing.
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Also by Carrie Pulkinen
Crescent City Wolf Pack Series
Werewolves Only
Beneath a Blue Moon
Bound by Blood
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Spirit Chasers Series
To Catch a Spirit
To Stop a Shadow
To Free a Phantom
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Stand Alone Books
The Rest of Forever
Reawakened
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Young Adult
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About the Author
Carrie Pulkinen is a paranormal romance author who has always been fascinated with things that go bump in the night. Of course, when you grow up next door to a cemetery, the dead (and the undead) are hard to ignore. Pair that with her passion for writing and her love of a good happily-ever-after, and becoming a paranormal romance author seems like the only logical career choice.
Before she decided to turn her love of the written word into a career, Carrie spent the first part of her professional life as a high school journalism and yearbook teacher. She loves good chocolate and bad puns, and in her free time, she likes to read, drink wine, and travel with her family.
* * *
Connect with Carrie online:
www.CarriePulkinen.com
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