Bryony shrugged and retreated into the neutral territory of her closet again.
“What about that nice purple sweater that Sky gave you a few weeks ago?” Naomi called out. “That would look cute on you.”
Bryony wrinkled her nose but didn’t protest. She knew her mother had a point but the sweater wasn’t her style. It was more Sky’s style—modest, with a white baby doll collar, and a trim flouncy lace at the sleeves.
Bryony fished it from the box in the corner and pulled it on. She left the closet and flopped her arms at her sides.
“How do I look?” she said, a tone of indignation underlying her words. She loved teaching but she hated dressing decent.
Naomi’s face brightened and she smiled.
“You look lovely, honey,” she said. “Very sweet.”
Bryony made a face and grabbed her black boots from under her bed. At least she could still wear the shoes she wanted to.
Naomi smoothed a wrinkle out of Bryony’s comforter. “Well, I suppose Sean could help with deliveries. It would be good for Galen to have an extra hand with all that. And Sean knows his way around Wildemoor since he grew up here.”
“Sounds great, Mom,” Bryony replied absently as she yanked on her shoes and headed for the door. She didn’t care what Sean did today. He wasn’t her concern. She was rid of him for a few hours. Glorious freedom.
“Good luck at school!” Naomi called as Bryony clattered down the stairs.
***
“Where are your pennies?” Bryony declared to a class of twelve witches and warlocks, from six to eight years old. Seline was among them and she fished her penny from her pocket, holding it up with pride, pinched between two fingers.
“Now take your wand,” Bryony said, brandishing her own wand with a flourish. “And make three circles around your penny until you can feel it get warm. Can you do that for me?”
Each witch and warlock did as she instructed with intense concentration and slow, careful circles, making sure they did exactly as she asked.
“Now put your pennies on the floor,” Bryony said. She placed her own penny on the ground in front of her. “And bring your wand straight up, like you’re pulling a thread tight.”
She demonstrated, dragging her wand into the air until she was standing upright again. The rest of her class followed her example.
“Snap your fingers and say, ‘pumpkin appear’.”
A chorus of ‘pumpkin appear’s rippled through the room. Pennies poofed in mushroom clouds of orange, red, and gold magic. Some pennies had been only half-transformed to pumpkin status, providing a strange part-penny, part-pumpkin appearance. Other pumpkins had transformed but only to the size of a penny. Seline was the only one who managed to turn her penny into a pumpkin and it was a glorious pumpkin as big as she was.
A sharp clap echoed from the doorway.
“That’s all for the day,” Hazel said. She folded her hands in front of her and stepped aside, nodding to the door. “Bring your pumpkins to the Samhain celebration this Saturday and we’ll put them out for decorations, all right?”
The students gathered their things—an assortment of wands, pennies, pumpkins, books, and coats, and trailed out the door, mumbling, “Good evening, Miss Hazel,” as they passed.
Once the room was empty, Hazel closed the door. She was dressed in a black skirt, a loose black blouse, and a fitted cashmere shrug that tied off to accentuate her narrow waist. Her knee-high stockings were a lush cranberry red and her boots were a polished brown leather.
“You’re a natural at teaching children,” Hazel said.
Bryony shrugged. “I guess I’ve had a lot of practice at home.”
“If you ever decide to leave Pagan Posies and work at Windywings, there will always be a position open for you here.”
“I appreciate that.” Bryony paused and turned to face Hazel. “But I don’t think that’s the reason you want to talk right now, is it?”
Hazel sighed and examined her cherry red fingernails.
“No,” she said. “It’s about Sky. About yesterday.”
Bryony hitched herself up on the edge of her desk, legs kicking back and forth as she twirled her wand between her fingers.
“Look,” she said. “I wasn’t happy with how I handled it either.”
“Have you apologized?”
Bryony fidgeted. “Not yet.”
Hazel pressed her lips into a thin line of disapproval.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Bryony said, waving her off. “I’m getting there.”
“Not good enough. The sooner, the better, Bryony. Don’t let this fester just because you’re jealous of Sky.”
Bryony’s heels thumped against the desk. Her wand went still in her hand.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“You’ve never been in a relationship before,” Hazel said. It was a statement of fact, not a jab like it could have been. But it still stung. “And now,” she continued. “Sky has settled into a happy companionship with Aiden and you feel left out.”
Bryony sputtered a laugh. “You’re wrong,” she said flatly.
Hazel’s jaw twitched and a spark gleamed in her eyes. But that was the only sign of annoyance she showed. She never let her temper get the better of her like Bryony did. Bryony hadn’t even seen Hazel cry. Ever. Not once. She simply existed on a plane of calm that never seemed to shatter or waver in any way.
“Then what is your explanation?” Hazel said. “You were rather cold to your best friend for no reason.”
Bryony shoved off of the desk and began cleaning up the room as a distraction. There was dirt on the floor and up-ended pots scattered along the desks after earth magic lessons.
“I had a bad day,” Bryony said. She knew, even as the words left her mouth, how empty, hollow, and useless that excuse was. But she would rather hide behind those words than admit that Hazel might be right.
“Bryony,” Hazel said in her best school teacher voice. “That’s not good enough.”
Bryony set a pot on the desk with a deafening clank.
“Fine,” she said. “You want the truth? I’m angry. My best friend gets a boyfriend and suddenly I’m on the outs.”
“And yet,” Hazel replied in a quiet, even voice that was infuriating to listen to when Bryony’s blood was boiling for a fight. “When you were invited to spend time with her, you couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“Do you think I like being reminded that she prefers Aiden’s company over mine?”
“Has she said that?”
Bryony glanced away. “Not in so many words. But I don’t need her to say it when her actions speak it clearly. Besides, I don’t see you handling Sky’s absence any better.”
“We’re not talking about me,” Hazel said.
She slid up behind Bryony and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Sky will never replace you,” she said. “She misses you. Talk to her. Yes, Aiden is in her life and that’s a big change. But she still wants you in her life, too. She told me that.”
Bryony fiddled with the pot, scrubbing her thumb at a dirt stain, taking comfort in the familiarity of the earth.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you,” Hazel said. She pressed one hand to Bryony’s cheek with a soft smile. “You’ve always held this belief that relationships are the end of the world. Maybe instead you should see them more as an adventure. Something to look forward to.”
Bryony wrinkled her nose and continued gathering the pots and plants scattered throughout the room.
“There are some adventures that I don’t need to experience,” she said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Bryony had finished cleaning up her classroom, she stepped into the hallway and retrieved her broom. She adjusted her witch hat a little lower on her head and opened the door.
Sitting on the front steps of the school was Sean O’Hara.
“Sweet Hecate have mercy,” Bryony mumbled. “You�
��re like a bad penny I can’t jinx into a pumpkin.”
Sean turned to look at her. “I certainly hope you haven’t tried,” he said. “You could land yourself in a lot of trouble for using magic against another magic user.”
“I know,” Bryony muttered. Which is exactly why she hadn’t tried to cast magic against him.
Sean rose from his seat, dusting off his pants. “I thought I’d ride home with you to keep you company.”
“You flew all the way out here just for that?”
“No, I was at the Tipsy Cauldron delivering a few barrels of apples for Samhain cider this weekend.”
“Shouldn’t you be helping my dad?” Bryony countered. “I’m sure he still has some other deliveries for you to make.”
“He said I could go.”
Bryony hummed in disappointment. Sean snickered.
“You really hate me that much, don’t you?” he said.
“Well, it’s not like you’ve done anything to make yourself more endearing.”
She could have sworn a flicker of hurt crossed Sean’s face. But when she looked again, there was no trace of it. Sean retrieved his broom from where it had been laying at his feet.
“For the record,” he said, leaning toward her. “I haven’t touched your hair since I started working at Pagan Posies. Not once.”
Bryony opened her mouth to protest then snapped it shut again when she realized that was true. He hadn’t commented on her freckles either. Hadn’t called her names at all.
Sean pointed at her. “Ha! You know I’m right. Admit it, Bry.”
Bryony smacked his hand aside. “Don’t call me that. And didn’t anyone ever tell you that gloating was an unattractive quality?”
Sean’s eyebrows shot up. “Does that mean I have other more attractive qualities?”
Bryony snorted. “I doubt it.”
“You sure know how to sweet talk a boy, Torres,” Sean said drily.
“The day I sweet talk a boy is the day they bury me in my grave, O’Hara,” Bryony shot back.
She climbed onto her broom and hovered into the air above Sean’s head.
“See you at home, slow poke,” she said.
And she zoomed off.
Bryony got a decent head start from taking Sean by surprise. But he was fast and caught up to her, gliding in alongside her within a few minutes. She sent her broom diving toward the tree line, branches and leaves thwacking against her boots and knees. It was risky to get too low—the air was rougher and bumpier, but at least she didn’t lose time and fall behind by climbing higher in altitude, ultimately letting Sean get ahead.
In the distance, the rooftop of Pagan Posies came into view, the rough thatch glowing a golden brown in the waning light of the evening. Bryony put on a burst of speed at seeing her home, so close to the finish line. She still had a chance to beat Sean…
She glanced back over her shoulder and her broom tipped even lower. She didn’t see the branch sticking up until it caught her ankle and she was yanked to the side.
Her broom rocketed away without her.
And Bryony was falling.
Blue-gray sky swirled with the nut brown of the earth in her vision as she tumbled head over heels again and again. Somewhere above her, Sean bellowed her name, his voice tight with…
No. She couldn’t possibly have heard fear in his voice.
But she didn’t have time to question that realization. The earth was rushing up to meet her. Fast. She fumbled for her wand in her back pocket as the wind snatched at her clothes and hair. Her fingers curled around her wand and she yanked it out.
Before Bryony could speak an enchantment to ease her fall or summon her broom back to her, an arm hooked around her waist. Her back hit Sean’s chest, his mouth at the curve of her neck and shoulder.
She could feel Sean’s hand pressed flat to her stomach, his fingers shaking just slightly as he released a breath of relief, ruffling her hair.
But the relief was short-lived.
Bryony’s weight dragged Sean’s broom to the side just as they hit the ground. It was a rough landing from the moment they made contact.
Sean curved his body around Bryony’s, his hand cradling the back of her head, his arm crushing her tight to his chest. His shoulder struck the ground first with a jarring impact and he skidded, sliding through the dirt, leaves, and grass at the edge of the Pagan Posies’ property. His broom skittered off somewhere in the trees.
Bryony landed on top of him, her legs tangled with his, her cheek resting against the hollow of his throat. Her hand was in the middle of his chest and she could feel the thunderous pounding of his heart beneath her palm.
Bryony scrambled to her feet. Sean groaned as she shoved off of him, his hand pressed to his ribs with a grimace.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded.
Sean wheezed a laugh only to suck in a breath with a pained expression.
“Maybe because you didn’t have time to catch yourself?” he rasped. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I had it under control. You didn’t have to catch me.”
Sean struggled to his hands and knees, his head bowed, his shoulders curved inward. He stayed that way for a full two minutes and didn’t move any further. His back was scattered with grass stains and there was a gash on his forearm that had torn his sleeve wide open to reveal a bloodied smear from elbow to wrist.
“Are you okay?” Bryony said.
Sean coughed a laugh then winced and shook his head.
“Not at the moment, no,” he said.
Bryony stood there, unsure what to do. Ever since Sean had shown up in Wildemoor, she had kept her distance. She didn’t let him get near her and she certainly didn’t voluntarily make contact.
“You better not be faking it,” she said.
Sean sighed as he straightened up to sit on his heels, one arm cradling his ribs.
“You wouldn’t happen to know a few bone mending spells, would you?” he said.
Bryony shook her head. “One or two. But I’m terrible at them. Why? What’s broken?”
Sean gritted his teeth. “A rib or two I think.”
Bryony tapped her wand against her palm. “Well. I could try. But fair warning – I usually cause more pain than healing.”
Sean put out a hand. “Never mind. Just find my broom for me and I’ll get myself home on my own. I’ll call for a healer after that.”
Bryony considered protesting. It would be easy for him to cast a spell and bring his broom back. But from the looks of him, he appeared to be in a considerable amount of pain and casting spells right now might take more strength than he had in him.
“I’ll get it later,” she said.
“Bryony,” Sean sighed in a tone that said, I really don’t want to fight you on this.
Instead, she took him by the wrist and hauled his arm over her shoulder.
“On your feet,” she said. “Let’s get you in the house.”
Sean eased himself to a standing position and stared at Bryony.
“What?” she demanded.
“That’s really nice of you,” Sean replied.
“Shut up.”
“Just saying.”
“Well don’t. It won’t be a normal occurrence either so don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Bryony couldn’t help but notice that she could feel Sean’s body heat through his clothes. She could feel each hitch of his breath and the rigidity of his muscles when he stepped on his right leg. She could feel how heavily he leaned on her to the point that she was nearly carrying him.
By the time they reached the house, Sean couldn’t speak. Every breath was labored, a dry, rattling wheeze in his chest and his face had gone deathly pale. There was no color to his lips and a cold sweat left a slick sheen across his forehead.
“You look terrible,” Bryony said.
Sean attempted to smile but it only came out as a grimace.
“There’s that Bry cha
rm again,” he replied.
Under normal circumstances, she would ditch him and let him walk home on his own. But he could barely stand up and Bryony bit back a retort, saving it for later.
Guilt settled in Bryony’s chest, a cold vise grip around her heart. Sean had taken the brunt of the fall, twisted his body around her to shield her and it had put him in a lot of pain.
Bryony and Sean slowly made their way up the front steps. She shoved the door open, greeted by the clatter of feet to meet them. Seline slid to a stop at the sight of Sean.
“Mom!” she shrieked.
Sean screwed one eye shut. “Hell’s bells,” he groaned. “I think I’m deaf in one ear now.”
Seline disappeared deeper into the house, shouting the whole way until she returned a moment later, dragging Naomi by the hand.
“Seline, what on earth…?”
Naomi trailed off at the look on Sean’s face.
“What happened?” she said.
“A broom accident,” Bryony said. “I told Sean I’d bring him here. Is Dad home?”
“He’s in the cellar. Seline, go get your father.”
Seline darted away. Naomi touched Sean’s cheek, tilting his head up.
“Was it a collision?” she said.
Sean shook his head. “Bryony slipped off of her broom. I was lucky enough to be there at the right time.”
“You both fell?” Naomi said in a sharp voice. Her gaze darted to Bryony with a concerned squeeze to her shoulder.
“I’m fine, Mom,” she said. “Sean…”
She faltered. Telling the truth would only make him even more popular with her family. But judging by how much pain he was in, it didn’t seem right that she would deny him the praise that was due him.
“Sean broke my fall,” she said. “I’m not even bruised.”
Naomi took Sean’s face carefully in her hands and brushed a kiss to his forehead.
“That was a very brave thing you did,” she said. “Thank you for looking after my daughter.”
Sean’s cheeks flushed the deepest shade of red Bryony had ever seen. He ducked his head, shoulder hitched up toward one ear in a bashful gesture.
“I’m just glad Bryony’s okay,” he said.
Spelled Kiss (Coven Corner Book #2) Page 7
