by Cece Rose
“You really did not just say that,” I whisper in shock. He’s been crude before, but nothing so direct, so blatant. Other than at the work Christmas party, anyway. Jay continues speaking, as if he didn’t hear me.
“If you really want me to give you a break, we could continue our fun from the Christmas party?” he suggests, and I instantly feel sick to my stomach. I’d assumed he was too drunk to fully remember exactly what happened, other than me turning him down. I’m suddenly right back there, like it’s happening all over again. I can feel his hands grabbing my ass roughly as he tries to shove his slimy tongue into my mouth. I shove him off the desk, just like I shoved him off me that night. I’d grabbed Lizzy and left straight after, not in the mood to get drunk and be merry after that invasion of space. I look down, seeing his eyes blazing with anger from where he sits on the floor.
“Screw you, asshole,” I bite out, turning on my heel as I head for the door. His hand grabs my shoulder as I reach for the lock, trying to pull me back. I use my magic to unlock the door and pull it open as I shove him away with my hands. “Keep your fucking hands off me!” I snap, storming out of the room. I realise just how loudly I’d shouted as I walk through the office, and my cheeks flame. Everyone is staring at me as I walk across the busy floor. I make my way to my desk, feeling like I’m doing a damn walk of shame as I grab my leather tote bag and coat.
“I’m leaving early,” I mumble to Lizzy, feeling my fingers itch, my magic wanting to slip out. I have to get out of here now, before it’s too late to hide it. The trouble I’d get in with the High Coven is much worse than the trouble I’ll get in for leaving work early. So much worse. Lizzy nods her head and goes to say something, but I’m already walking away, heading for the exit.
Every single pair of eyes watches me as I push the lift call button and wait for the doors to open. I feel a small sense of relief when they finally do. Stepping inside, I keep my eyes down as I push the button for the ground floor. It isn’t until the doors shut, leaving me alone and unwatched, that I look up, catching my own eyes in the mirrored walls of the lift. A couple of stray tears work their way down my cheeks. They’re not from sadness, but from anger. Fuck, I hate being an angry crier; nobody takes you seriously when you start crying. Swallowing thickly, I straighten my shoulders and quickly wipe away those damned tears rolling down my face. I don’t want any weakness to show once those lift doors open again.
Screw that asshole. I’m done with his shit. I’m a witch, damn it, and I’ll be damned if I let a puny, annoying, creep of a human treat me this way. He won’t get away with this again. It’s every witch for herself now.
Chapter Two
Trying to answer the phone while stirring both my pasta for dinner and a hair removal potion proves more difficult than anticipated. I drop the spoons onto the kitchen counter, giving up the balancing act, and hit the answer button.
“What’s up?” I ask, as I put the phone to my ear.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You left in such a rush, and you looked so upset,” Lizzy’s voice comes through the line, and I cringe.
“I’m sorry for storming off like that without an explanation. Jay is an asshole,” I reply, looking down and trying to remember which spoon went in which pot. I feel like avoiding this rookie mistake is something they’d teach you in How to Be a Witch 101: Don’t cook dinner while also cooking up revenge hair removal potions. I’m going to have to grab another spoon. I can’t risk all my hair falling out. It’s a bitch to make a potion that makes it grow back, but the remover potion is basic level stuff. Whoever came up with this crap had a wicked sense of humour.
“It’s fine, Kay. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright. What did he do?” she asks, probing for more information. I think about how to respond as I pull open my cutlery drawer in search of a replacement spoon for my pasta.
“It was a total repeat of the Christmas party,” I finally answer, grabbing a spoon and shoving it into the pasta pan before I can forget which spoon is which again. Which spoon is the witch spoon? I giggle at the thought.
“He didn’t really try it on again? Are you crying?” she asks, sounding concerned.
“No, laughing actually. I’m mixing up a nice hair removal potion. I’m gonna add it to the bastard’s coffee.” I take turns stirring the pasta and the potion, making sure to leave the spoons resting against their respective pan. No more rookie mistakes today.
“Hair loss? Do you really think that’s good enough? His hair line is already receding, you’d only be speeding up the process by a year or so,” Lizzy jokes, and I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s not like there’s anything else I can actually do. If I try and go above his head, it’s me who will get the sack, not him. They’ll find one reason or another to sack me before I can make any headway with a complaint. And I can’t use anything stronger than a hair loss potion or someone might report me for using magic carelessly in the presence of a human,” I mutter bitterly. Stupid laws. Stupid work. Stupid fucking pervert of a manager.
“Well, maybe you can’t do anything, but maybe your grandma can?” she suggests.
“My grandmother’s dead, she died a few months ago. You know that. You helped me move into her old house,” I say hesitantly, not knowing where she is going with this. Grandma’s house has been in the family for years. With housing prices being so insane in the area, no one would let this home leave the family. When she’d given it to me in her will, I’d moved straight out of my tiny apartment and into her old space. The extra room is welcome. Living in a cramped city is killer sometimes.
“I meant her grimoire,” she says in exasperation, like it should have been obvious, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Her grimoire?”
“Yeah, you did inherit the thing along with everything else, right?”
“I did, but my grandma was…” I trail off, biting my lip.
“Powerful? Eccentric? Surely a woman like that would have something worth using in that little black book of hers,” Lizzy continues for me.
“It’s brown.”
“Not the point and you know it, Kay.” I can hear her sigh. “You can’t let him get away with this. It’s an affront to women everywhere. Feminism has to start at home, Kayla. If he just keeps getting away with it, who knows how bad he could get? Really, this is the right thing to do. Not just for you and me, but for witches and wo—”
“Goddess, Lizzy, I get the freaking point. I’ll check the damn grimoire. I don’t know if I’ll find anything in there, though. I mean, whenever I’ve flicked through it, things seemed a little… err… on the dark side.” I bite my lip nervously, before quickly continuing in a rush. “Don’t get me wrong, my grandma wasn’t a black witch or anything, but she liked to study all kinds of magic, even those she wouldn’t practice.”
I glance down, and my eyes bulge wide as I notice the potion spilling over the edges of the pan, having turned into a sickly, dark-green bubbling mess while I was chatting. “Shit! I’ve got to go, Liz. I’ll update you tomorrow!” I shout, grabbing for a towel, or oven gloves, anything to try and stop this mess.
“Fine, but promise me this—do something. Don’t let yourself chicken out. Drink some vodka if that helps. Just freaking do something, girl. You can’t let yourself get walked all over by that asshole anymore,” Lizzy demands firmly.
“Fine!” I snap, finally finding a towel and quickly wrapping it over my free hand before grabbing the panhandle.
“Promise?” she prods.
“I promise,” I agree, hanging up the phone before anything else can go wrong. As if tempted by sod’s law, the fire alarm starts singing its anthem. Probably loud enough for the whole street to hear. Ughhhh.
I drop the pan with the potion into the sink, grabbing the salt I keep beside it and throwing the whole lot over the mixture. I turn around and see the smoke coming off my chicken pasta. My burning chicken pasta. I pull that off the hob too, throwing it into the damn sink as we
ll. I use my magic to cut off the alarm, focusing all of my measly energy there to shut it up.
I eye the bottle of vodka in my kitchen cabinet longingly, the glass cabinet door giving me the tempting view. Lizzy, your wish is my command. I grab the vodka and a glass, and I head upstairs in search of my grandma’s grimoire.
No good story starts with pasta anyway.
If you enjoyed the sample of Black Spells and Twisted Souls, you can download the full book on Amazon now.
Author Note Continued
As promised in the first note, here are the common possible triggers: Child Abuse, Drugs, Rape, Kidnap, and Violence.
Child Abuse: Suffered by both the main character and her bother throughout from their mother.
Drugs: Mild usage, and one character is a drug dealer.
Rape: There’s one scene where the main character is raped, it’s a memory, and it’s not hugely graphic in the description of it.
Kidnap: The main character is kidnapped, but it’s not especially violent.
Violence: There’s moments of violence and the hint of it throughout.
If you see something that you think I’ve missed, please don’t hesitate to reach out and let me know. I like to try and ensure my books don’t unnecessarily cause anyone upset.
