Bewitched (7 page)

Andrew stills and goes silent.
 

I rewind what I’ve said. Not believing in magic, joke, not working … true love … him.

Closing my eyes, I wish for a witch to fly by on a broom and take me away. The beach and the icy cold water sit a few yards away. A short run and I could throw myself into the sea. A dramatic, yet perfect ending to this whole witchcraft escapade. Forget death by chocolate or Andrew, I’ll go with the classic witch ending: drowning.
 

His deep voice rumbles with suppressed amusement and interrupts my maudlin thoughts.

“Madison, open your eyes.”

I open one eye, and then slowly the other.
 

Andrew smiles at me. “Even if you don’t believe in magic, I do.”

“You do?”
 

He nods. “Of course.”

“Really?”
 

“Doubts the girl who used a love spell on me.” He chuckles and pecks a kiss on my lips. “If you didn’t believe, just a little, why are you worried about the spell working or not working?”

He has me there. “I, um.” I pause and suck in a deep breath to buy some time. “If it worked, then you don’t really like me, you’re just enchanted. Or whatever you call it. And if it didn’t work, then I’m embarrassed, and a fool.”

“What if I told you it didn’t work, but I’m still enchanted, although I prefer the word bewitched.”

Bewitched. My skin tingles and warms.

“Walk with me? I want to show you something.” He entwines his fingers with mine and gently pulls me down the path.

I follow. Of course.
 

The beach is quiet except for small waves slapping against the rocky shore. Sand and rocks are madness with these heels, so I remove them and walk barefoot over the cold, wet sand. A large shadow looms down the beach. As we get closer, I realize it’s a pile of wood for a bonfire.

“Is this the midnight surprise?” I circle the pyre.

“It is. Tonight’s Samhain as well as Halloween. Do you know about it?” He trails behind me, but at a distance.
 

“Sam and Sarah told me a little. It’s the night when the threshold between worlds gets thinner and magic is easier.”

“Sarah?” He abruptly stops walking.

I pause, too, and face him. “Sarah, at The Spelling B.”

He smirks and nods. “I should have known.”

“Known what?” I step closer. His eyes almost glow in the light from the sliver of moon above the bay. “Your contacts remind me of her eyes.”

“How odd.” He glances down at his watch. “I’ll explain everything in a minute.”
 

With a look over his shoulder toward the house, he crouches near the wood. He holds his hands in front of him, and a spark hits the kindling. I never see the match. Within seconds, a blue flame spreads through the stack before transforming into a warm blaze. Flames reach toward the sky.
 

“I’ve never seen a bonfire ignite so fast,” I say in awe. “How did you do that?”

He shrugs and stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Seriously, how did you do that? Lighter fluid? I didn’t even see you use a lighter.”

“I didn’t.”

“What? That’s impossible.”

“Not if you believe in magic.”

I am utterly, completely, and entirely confused.

“Andrew?”

“Uh huh.” He steps closer and grabs my hips above my tutu.

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm … well, if you don’t believe in magic, nothing. Just two people standing near a bonfire.”

“A bonfire you lit with your hands.”

“Not if you don’t believe.”

“But I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Appearances can be deliberately deceiving.”

“You’re speaking in riddles.”

“I’m hoping you’ll catch on without me having to spell it out for you.” He chuckles at his pun and kisses me again.

I allow myself to fall into the kiss, but my mind keeps spinning with questions. Andrew Wildes isn’t what he seems.
 

Something clicks.

“You’re not wearing contacts tonight, are you?”

I can feel his lips curl into a small smile against my cheek.
 

“I think you’re catching on.” As he speaks, his scruff rubs against my skin.

“Glasses?”

“Fake lenses.” A kiss to my neck.

My forehead creases.
 

He kisses the wrinkles.

“Wait. Contacts and fake lenses?”

He nods, or at least dips his chin in the beginning of a nod. His glacial blue eyes pierce through me. I shiver with the powerful chill of his stare.

“All part of the illusion.”

“At first we dress to deceive?” I ask. When I cross my arms, my wings tighten at my shoulders. This conversation is surreal enough beyond the fact it’s happening while I’m dressed like a bee. “The quiet, loner who no one notices.”
 

He raises one shoulder in response.

“But why?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to be who everyone expects me to be.”

“Because you’re from here.” I’m still missing something.

“And my mom.”

I gasp as the pieces fall into place like a puzzle coming together. “Your mom is Sarah at The Spelling Bee!”

“The lady is on to something.” He gestures for me to keep going.

“Your mom is the most powerful witch in Salem.”

“Ding, ding,” he say flatly.

“Sam told me Sarah is a real witch.” I stop myself and gape at him. “Does that mean …”

“I’m a witch.”

It isn’t a question.

“You’re a witch?”

He nods.

I nod. “So the fire?”

He wiggles his fingers in front of me.
 

“And the love spell?”

His laughter is soft, but heartfelt. “The peppercorns made me suspicious. When I saw your heart pendant tonight, I recognized it from my mom’s shop.”
 

My cheeks heat, and not from the heat of the bonfire. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses me again. “Those spells don’t work.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s against coven rules to influence emotions.”

“Yet okay for us mere mortals to think they do?”

“It’s all about the power of suggestion.” He looks smug.

“So, according to you, the spell didn’t work?”

“Right.”

“But you’re kissing me.”

“Not right now I’m not.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Or now.” He kisses the other corner, then smiles against my cheek.

I grin back.

“I like you, Madison. A lot. I have since you were a freshman.”

I scrunch up my nose. “I didn’t know you then.” I stop. “Oh. The boy no one notices.”

He nods, watching me carefully with a guarded expression.

“A bio-chem major in an English lit seminar?”

He shrugs. “I honestly like to read, but maybe I found out you’d be in Philips’ class.”

“Magic?”

“Friend works in the registrar’s office.”

“Any other magic I should know about?”

He stares down at his feet. “Maybe.”

I use my index finger to tip up his chin.
 

He barely meets my eyes. “Hamilton’s chair didn’t fall on its own.”

My eyebrows touch my hairline. “I thought I wished that!”

“You kind of did. I could read your face and helped a little.”

“When else?”

“The rain when you wouldn’t accept my umbrella.”

“You can control the weather?”

He nods. “Not in the grand scheme of things, but temporarily.”

“And Sam canceling coffee?”

Pressing his lips together, he shakes his head. “A happy coincidence. I was working on something, but didn’t need to use it.”

“So you’re a real witch.”

His grin returns. “I am. And you’re a Bradbury girl.”

Sarah’s strange words echoed in my head.
A brown-haired Bradbury girl.

“I am.” I give him a quizzical look.

“Mary Bradbury survived the Salem witch trials, but Sarah Wildes didn’t. There’s a long history between our families. And…” He pauses and exhales. “My mother saw you coming into my life two years ago.”

“Freshman year.”

He nods again, pulling me into his arms.

“You must have been relieved she didn’t say Dorcus Hoar was to be your true love.”

Andrew throws his head back and laughs so hard and so loud it must echo off of the water. “So relieved.”

“Poor Dorcus. Persecuted when alive, and mocked in death.”

“I can call you Dorcus, if you feel so bad.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Please don’t.” I kiss him between chuckles. Laugh-kissing is better than snort-laughing.

He stops laughing and his eyes focus on mine. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

I would say more, but his lips crash against my mouth, and I know he’s waited long enough.

Whoops and screams coming down the lawn force us apart, but Andrew holds fast to my hand, not letting me move away from his side. Various partygoers stumble toward the fire, among them Tate and Sarah walking close together, arms entwined.
 

I meet Andrew’s eye.
 

He leans forward and kisses my temple before whispering, “Don’t tell Sam her spell didn’t work either.”

My eyes widen.

If she needs to believe in spells, so be it.

I believe in real magic.

The end … for now

Look for more shorts and novels from me coming soon, including We Were Here, a New Adult romance set in the 90s.
 

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Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reading
Bewitched
! I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I loved writing it. I had fun branching out into New Adult. If you enjoyed the humor and the falling in love parts, please check out my other books, which have both of those elements without a magical twist.
 

Big thanks to my readers who loved the first version of this story and wanted more. I want more too! I promise this isn’t the end with Andrew, Madison and the rest of the characters at Hawthorne College. Pinky swear.
 

Special thanks to Allison Smith for help with all things magical and Wicca in this story. Thanks to Bria, Renee and Helena for reading this version and giving me much needed encouragement. It's better because of your input. Thank you to my editor Melissa Ringsted and proofreader Marla Esposito for fixing my crimes against grammar and giving my writing a final polish. Thanks as always to SO for his endless enthusiasm and nurturing the earliest seeds of all of my stories. I am a better storyteller because of you.
 

I’m blessed to be part of the Indie publishing community full of talented authors; dedicated bloggers; skilled designers, formatters, and editors; and most of all, passionate readers. Thank you for buying Indie books, and for reading, blogging, sharing and reviewing.
 

xo

Daisy

* * *

USA Today bestselling author Daisy Prescott has published four standalone novels and four short stories in her
Modern Love Stories
series. Her novels include:
Geoducks Are for Lovers
,
Ready to Fall
,
Missionary Position,
and
Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat
. She lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat. When not writing, she can be found traveling, gardening, baking, and socializing online.