Hell of a Bargain: Chapter 1 Teaser (Coming Out September 30th!)

Seven Days to Samhain.

It might be illegal. Not thirty years in prison illegal, more like illegal-lite.

Before I can explain my sliding scale of law the tinkling chime of the door makes my mouth clamp shut. It’s not polite to make random patrons unwitting accessories, even to semi-crimes.

“Why are you two just standing here in silence?” Willow frowns as she rounds the tall shelves blocking the front door from the counter that Tracy, the tall light-haired witch, and I are plotting at.

She looks like a catalogue model in a tank top and my M-Line buckle skirt I had planned to pair with my mesh buckle top. Her strawberry blond hair falls in loose waves around her face, the perfect contrast to her all-black outfit. I could give her shit for treating my closet like a library, but I hug her instead.

After all, what are best friends for?

“We thought you were a normie getting the drop on us,” Tracy smirks, her tone entirely too mischievous for our innocent, albeit illegal party planning.

Willow’s face goes blank as she cautiously examines her surroundings. I follow her eyes. Even though I’m here almost every day, I love to take it in.

The cozy shop is an instant mood booster for everyone who passes the threshold. Local artists’ wares line the walls and shelves in between Tracy’s spell candles and Willow’s hand-cut gemstones. The working altar always keeps the air light and the shop safe. It’s just a nice little bonus that it also makes the whole place smell wonderful from the incense and herbs.

Seeming satisfied that the perimeter hasn’t been breached and she isn’t missing anything, Willow turns her attention back to us.

“Uh, honey, this is an occult store, I think the normies have learned to walk on by at this point.”

I can’t help but giggle at Tracy’s conspiratorial eyebrow raise as she beckons Willow closer.

“This is even better than everyday witchcraft, Will.”

With a glance at the monitor that shows Eva still fast asleep in my office down the hall, I lean in and lower my voice to a hushed whisper.

“We are figuring out location options, but the ritual I want to do might be a tad in the gray area when it comes to, well, the law.”

Excitement lights up Tracy’s emerald eyes as Willow’s expression turns inquisitive.

“Leigh, what did you do?”

“Nothing, yet,” I assure her. “But, I want to have a bonfire, give thanks to our spirit teams, and maybe burn one tiny organ.”

Willow turns to Tracy, the reasonable one, without missing a beat.

“Is this a ‘bring the shovels, no questions asked’ situation or a dramatic way to announce a placenta burning?”

Tracy shrugs and straightens out her toadstool cardigan, her matching earrings swaying with the movement.

“Knowing Leigh, probably a bit of both, but I am living for every second.”

With a playful eye-roll, I pull out my phone to show them the short list of possible locations.

“This is what I have so far. Christine suggested an Airbnb, but I’m afraid of people. Crown land might be okay but it’s a lawless wasteland.”

“Yeah, we run the risk of people doing stranger things out there than just innocent crimes like witchcraft and organ burning,” Tracy confirms.

“Can you just say placenta please?” Willow interrupts, earning her a withering look from us both.

“My organ, my party, my party name.” I declare simply.

I swear she whispers “edge-lord” under her breath but I choose to ignore it.

“Anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted; My aunt says I can always use her cottage but it’s…” If anyone can pick up on my vague gesture it’s these two.

“It’s not quite the right vibe.” Tracy agrees, nodding thoughtfully before continuing. “Besides, we are all much more familiar with the spirits and leylines closer to home.”

She runs a hand through her short hair, making it look far more effortless and chic than is fair to the general population. I can practically see her brain flipping through possible solutions as she hums to herself.

“It’s last minute, which sucks but…”

I start self-consciously, knowing my lack of planning has definitely caused some unnecessary friction.

“You had a first birthday party to plan! I wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything after it either.”

Tracy replies, absentmindedly pushing her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose. Her tone leaves no room for argument, or self-flagellation.

“And it was an amazing party, by the way.” Willow chimes in as she pulls out her phone and enters into full research mode. “We’ll make this one amazing too. Seven days is more than enough time to work some magic.”

For a second we sit in companionable silence, my best friends entirely invested in helping me bring my idea to life. I am so completely lucky to have these two. But before I can let the thought make me misty eyed the tinkle of the door draws our attention again.

As new voices lift to meet our ears and the browsing patrons start exploring the aisles, our project comes to a temporary halt.

“I’ll let you know what I find later tonight,” Will says with a smile before popping her head around the shelves, greeting the customers. She doesn’t even work here, but she may as well.

Tracy begins to clear the counter of the candles she was working on before I came out, her motions routine as she cleans the till space.

“Same, are you coming over tomorrow? We could regroup then.”

With a thumbs up I slip behind the counter and head down the hall to my office. It used to be the botany room, but after Eva surprised us all by coming into my life, Tracy magically transformed the space to grow with our smallest addition to the coven.

In theory, I can do my work from home. I left the corporate world years ago to be a fractional CFO for eco-friendly startups. It’s exciting, but at its core, it’s just a lot of emails, meetings and numbers.

Still, when Eva was about six months old with a beaming smile on her face, Tracy revealed the reworked office to me along with the title of the Cunning Folk Operations Manager. A title that is ninety percent honourary if we are all being honest.

I needed it. With Willow in her workshop during the day, being home alone with a tiny human was as rewarding as it was isolating. They knew.

The lump in my throat returns. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed at this time of the year. If my life had an ‘on this day’ playback function it would show twelve months ago when my best friends all shifted their lives to make a little more space for me. Me and Eva.

Willow moved in so I wasn’t on my own with a newborn. Christine was with me for forty-eight hours while I was in labour- even though I swear it was seventy-two. Tracy moved the shop around to make sure my little heart now living on the outside of my body had a safe place to be with me every day.

It’s hard not to feel entirely overwhelmed with love. Venus must be having a hell of a moment right now.

As I bring a tissue to my eye trying to keep the tears firmly in the water line, I freeze, entirely unnerved when the reflection in my peripherals does not.

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