Jinxed (Coven Corner #1)

by Charlotte French

  JINXED

  Coven Corner: Book #1

  by

  Charlotte French

  Copyright © 2018 by Charlotte French.

  Cover art by EnchantedBookCovers.Etsy.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This ebook is for your personal reading only. It may not be sold again or given away to other people. If you desire to share this book with someone else, please purchase another copy for each recipient.

  If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, please purchase your own copy at major ebook retailers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations and incidents are the product of the author’s creation. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE FRENCH

  Sugar and Spice

  COVEN CORNER SERIES

  Jinxed (Book #1)

  Spelled Kiss (Book #2)

  A Charmed Life (Book #3)

  Coven Corner Series Boxset

  ANTHOLOGIES & SHORT STORIES

  Only For Her

  Sacred & Profane

  Symphony Amore

  COVEN CORNER SERIES

  BOOK #1: JINXED

  BOOK #2: SPELLED KISS

  BOOK #3: A CHARMED LIFE

  Table of Contents

  BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE FRENCH

  COVEN CORNER SERIES

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SNEAK PEEK: SPELLED KISS

  CHAPTER ONE

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE FRENCH

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  The leaves were just beginning to blush autumn red and chestnut gold when the new occult shop opened two blocks away from Sky Sangrey’s house.

  It was a strange little shop, painted olive green with black trim, shaped like a child took a crayon to paper—one side of the house was slanted nearly to the ground, the ceiling was wider than the foundation, and there was a hexagonal window that overlooked a balcony painted with rune marks. Over the heavy black wooden door, a sign in bold black letters read, SPELLBOUND.

  And it was causing quite a stir in the sleepy little town of Wildemoor.

  It wasn’t as if the town had never seen an occult shop before. Wildemoor was located twelve miles outside of Salem, Massachusetts, and its entire population consisted solely of witches and warlocks, apart from one or two humans who happened to be married or related to a witch or a warlock in some capacity or another.

  So Wildemoor had its fair share of magic-related shops.

  There was Sky’s tearoom, Boiled and Brewed, where she served tea and read tea leaves to divine the future for her customers.

  There was Pagan Posies, the greenhouse and orchard where the freshest, purest herbs for witchcraft could be found.

  And there was the coffee shop and bakery, The Eye of Newt, where Sky spent far too much of her money buying pastries and fresh baked bread. She blamed it on the altars she built for holidays and celebrations, as offerings to the goddesses. But half of the time, those offerings never made it home, let alone onto the altar.

  No, Spellbound’s appearance was not unusual. It was the owner, Aiden Hall, who was attracting so much attention, particularly from the witch population of Wildemoor, although a few warlocks did sing their praises of him.

  Aiden Hall was a powerful warlock from New York. The rumors that floated around town said he worked for some influential people—from governors and police commissioners, to mayors and celebrities.

  But for some reason, Aiden Hall had left his life of fame and fortune behind to settle in the humdrum community of Wildemoor. No one was complaining. They were too busy trying to get a look at him.

  In such a small town, especially a town overrun with magically inclined inhabitants, stories tended to get elaborated and embellished to an extravagant degree in no time at all.

  Aiden Hall was described as a Greek god, with chiseled features that looked as if he was carved from stone. Others described Aiden Hall as the love child of a fey and a human, with wild eyes and a charm so smooth and subtle that he could rob you blind with a smile and a wink. Then you would thank him for it.

  Sky had learned a long time ago to never believe the tales that floated around Wildemoor.

  But she was not going to join the line of onlookers, eager to ogle Aiden Hall for herself.

  In fact, she was going to stay as far away from him as she could.

  Oh, she wanted to get a look at him, just like everybody else did. But Sky knew how that meeting would go.

  The moment she set foot in his shop, her wayward elbows would knock over something—no doubt expensive—and she would blurt something awkward and embarrassing that she could never forgive herself for as long as she lived.

  Sky wasn’t the most adept of witches with her magic. Her spells tended to spark and stutter their way into existence, or gutter out completely, like a candle in the wind. She knew the art of making tea, reading what the leaves left behind, and she was proud of that.

  But if Aiden Hall was even half as handsome as the rumors made him out to be, Sky knew it would be certain disaster to meet him.

  There was nothing for it.

  She simply had to avoid him. Somehow.

  It was easy at first. Sky just didn’t go to Spellbound at all. But then her mother, despite good intentions, sent Sky’s plans crashing down around her ears in a single heartbeat.

  Sky and Cassandra were walking home from The Eye of Newt, a bag of pumpkin bread rolls tucked under one arm as they tore into a fresh baguette between them. The wind picked up, sending leaves spinning and twirling across the street before they scattered. Right in front of Spellbound.

  Like a sign. An omen.

  “Have you been into that lovely little shop yet?” Cassandra asked.

  Sky tucked her chin a little deeper into her black and orange scarf.

  “I haven’t had the time,” she said, avoiding her mother’s gaze.

  “The owner is a charming young man. Maybe a year or two older than you are. I heard he was very successful in New York before he moved here.”

  “Mom,” Sky said. “No matchmaking.”

  “All I’m saying is that it’s nice to have some new blood around here. The two of you could talk, share your experiences. I worry about you sometimes. You’ve never left Wildemoor. You’ve never seen more of the world.”

  “I like it here. Besides, I thought you preferred having me close by.”

  “Oh, I do.” Cassandra crumbled a pinch of baguette on the ground for a flock of sparrows that gathered around her feet, chirping and fluttering. “But your magic might benefit from some travel.”

  “My magic is just fine,” Sky countered.

  “Your spellwork could use some polishing. You’ve admitted that to me on more than one occasion.”

  “I’m a tea witch. I don’t need spells to read tea leaves.”

  Cassandra fell silent as she cast a sideways glance at Sky.

  “You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

&
nbsp; “Who?”

  Cassandra raised her eyebrows, amused. “Aiden Hall.”

  “I am not,” Sky said, a little too emphatically.

  “Then let’s pop into Spellbound right now. It’s just right there.”

  Sky gritted her teeth. Cassandra was toying with her. She had Sky pinned and she knew it. Sky held up the pumpkin bread rolls.

  “I should get this home,” she said. “And open my tearoom before customers start arriving.”

  “Fine,” Cassandra relented. She ate the last of her bread, dusted the crumbs off of her hands and hooked an arm through Sky’s elbow. “You know, I was shy around your father the first time I met him.”

  Sky turned to look at her mother. Sky took after her human father in looks—a round face, short dishwater blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a wide mouth that made her smile the most pronounced feature of all. Her clothes were always mismatched, a little too big and baggy on her rounded frame, and tea stains got on everything she wore, no matter how careful she was.

  Cassandra was petite, with long dark curls, gentle dark eyes, and a lilting voice that was a joy to listen to. She wore flowing white linen clothes that made her seem even more ethereal than she already appeared, as if she was floating and flawless.

  Mother and daughter couldn’t have been anymore different. The only thing they had in common was their magic and even that held its differences.

  Cassandra made magic look effortless and smooth. Sky used her magic the way she lived her life—a chaotic jumble of a mess, tripping over her tongue, scattered spells everywhere, making it nearly impossible to cast anything larger than a few jinxes or hexes now and then.

  Sky couldn’t imagine her mother—put together, calm, cool, and collected—being shy or nervous around someone she fancied.

  “Don’t let a handsome face get you all tangled up in knots,” Cassandra said. “It’s the heart that you should be concerned with.”

  Easier said than done, Sky thought.

  Cassandra fished around in the pocket of her coat before she retrieved a scrap of paper—bewitched paper, of course. She handed it over to Sky. It was deep blue, with a silver crescent moon in the corner. The edges of the paper were gilded in black and there was a dusting of glitter across the surface that caught the light and glinted like stars.

  “I picked something up for you,” Cassandra said.

  Looping calligraphy scrolled across the paper, reading, FOR SKY SANGREY: AN AUTUMN EQUINOX GIFT OF HARVEST.

  “It’s a coupon,” Cassandra said. “With Mabon only two weeks away, you’ll need a few items to celebrate.”

  “Mom, you really didn’t have to do that,” Sky said, struggling—and failing—to find some way to turn the coupon down.

  “I know, but I wanted to. Boiled and Brewed is doing so well these days that you have everything you need. I don’t get to treat you very often.”

  Sky sighed. It was a kind gesture on her mother’s part, if only she could refuse in a way that didn’t raise questions. The autumn equinox was right around the corner and she wasn’t ready for it at all. She needed candles. A lot of them. Her old ones had been burned to stubs. She needed pennyroyal, too, for tea. She couldn’t keep her pennyroyal plants alive to save her life. She was a tea witch, not a hedge witch.

  Sky considered abandoning the whole thing and heading to Pagan Posies instead. The greenhouse was sure to have pennyroyal by the bushel at this time of year. But Sky would need it to be dried and in order to do that, she needed time. And time was what she did not have with Mabon less than two weeks away.

  Now that her name had been written on enchanted paper, Sky was tied to Spellbound one way or the other. If Sky refused to go, Aiden would show up with a Mabon gift on her doorstep to fulfill the promise he had made on that fateful slip of paper, bound by magic.

  And that was the last thing she needed.

  Sky accepted the coupon and slipped it into her pocket.

  “I’ll go this weekend,” she said. “Friday afternoon, once I close up Boiled and Brewed for the night.”

  Cassandra smiled, pleased. At least someone was happy about this turn of events. All Sky could feel was dread for the impending embarrassment that was sure to come as soon as she crossed the threshold of Spellbound.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sky put it off as long as she could. But as the autumnal equinox loomed at the end of the week, she knew it was only a matter of time before Aiden Hall visited her tearoom, bearing a Mabon gift. She would much rather meet him in his territory than have him settle comfortably into hers.

  So she gripped the enchanted coupon like a weapon and she left the safety of her tearoom. An early frost dusted the golden leaves in curling patterns of crisp white and blue. Her boots clicked on the pavement as she steadily made her way along the two blocks to Spellbound.

  When she turned the corner, the shop came into view, tucked in the middle of a grove of weeping willows. Ivy crawled up the sides of the building, leaves grasping at the warmth provided by the windows in an effort to escape the encroaching chill of winter. A crow settled on the roof’s sharp peak and squawked in its rough, crackly voice.

  Sky slowly approached the door and paused, listening for any sounds of activity inside. She eased the door open. A dark grey bell overhead tinkled and Sky winced. She peeked in the shop with one eye squeezed shut as if she could ease the impact of seeing Aiden Hall for the first time as long as half of her vision was not in use.

  The cash register was empty.

  Sky released a breath of relief and tiptoed into the shop. A wave of warmth, tinged with the scent of cloves, vanilla, and cinnamon washed over her. She tugged at her scarf to loosen it from around her face.

  Next to the register, in the corner behind the counter was a perch with a large black raven huddled atop it. The bird ruffled its feathers but didn’t move or make a sound.

  The raven must be Aiden’s familiar—his guide that assisted him with magical use. Every witch and warlock had one. Some were more intimidating than others. Even Sky had one, though she rarely used magic. Her familiar was at home—a large gray cat, named Ceylon, that slept fourteen hours a day on her pillow and was too lazy to bother catching mice, let alone helping Sky to hone her magical skills.

  On the outside, Spellbound seemed a little intimidating, with its dark exterior and unusual shape.

  But on the inside, Sky couldn’t deny that it was a cozy set up.

  Displayed at the windows were shelves of crystals to catch the light and shine in a rainbow of colors, from the perky lilac of amethyst to the smooth ink black of obsidian.

  In one corner, a small fountain bubbled amiably. Enchanted goldfish darted in gold and orange beneath the ripples, wandering over blue and purple stones scattered across the bottom of the fountain.

  Dried herbs hung from the ceiling in clusters of lavender, tansy, yarrow, and rue.

  Along one wall were jars of ointments, bottles of potions, and every flavor of wine Sky had ever seen—from elderberry to dandelion to rose hip.

  Sky found the candle section, tucked away in neat drawers. Over three dozen varieties of candles were spread out, thin and pale to fat and dark. She selected a thick, cranberry red candle, the perfect shade to celebrate autumn equinox, along with five smaller ones in blues, greens, and purples.

  “Good evening.”

  Sky flinched and spun around. And she found herself face to face with Aiden Hall.

  Oh.

  Oh no.

  The reports didn’t do him justice. Grey eyes. Glossy dark curls that looked so touchable and soft. He wore a form-fitting black turtleneck that accented the sharp angle of his jawline. The fabric clung to his lean frame like water, outlining his narrow waist and the straight line of his shoulders.

  Aiden raised a hand in a reassuring gesture, palm out. It was a fluid, graceful motion, and Sky could imagine how quick-fingered he was when he cast spells, conjuring magic like a dancer moved to music with his long, pale fingers.

 
Sky suddenly forgot how to put words together. What had she been thinking to come here? Now she didn’t even know what to say, let alone carry a conversation.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Aiden said. “I was wondering if you were looking for anything special that I could help with.”

  For a heartbeat or two, Sky remained motionless. Then she held up the candles.

  “For Mabon,” she said.

  She waved the coupon as well and Aiden’s eyes brightened.

  “So you’re Sky Sangrey,” he said. “I’ve heard generous praise for your tearoom from a number of my customers recently. It’s been a long time since I’ve had my tea leaves read. I’m about due for a visit.”

  A blush crept up Sky’s neck, along with a few faces that came to mind who might be singing her praises, one of which was her mother.

  There were rules against casting spells on other witches or warlocks. Otherwise, Wildemoor would be a battlefield of spells, hexes, and jinxes. But there were no rules regarding poor attempts at matchmaking.

  “Well, I’m still getting my feet under me when it comes to running a business,” Sky said.

  “How long have you been open?”

  “Two years.”

  Aiden waved her off. “You must know it all like the back of your hand by now. I should be coming to you for advice.”

  Sky swallowed and scrambled for a way to direct Aiden’s attention somewhere besides herself. It was hard to think straight when he was looking at her so intently, as if what she had to say was fascinating. No one had ever looked at her that way. They looked past her. But not at her, especially not for any length of time. And certainly not like this.

  Aiden gestured to the candles.

  “Can I get you anything else? Or will that be all for you today?”

  Sky went blank for a moment.

  “Pennyroyal!” she blurted, a little too loud.

  Aiden raised his eyebrows.

  “Pennyroyal, please,” Sky repeated, quieter this time. “About five ounces will do, thank you.”