Shortbread and Shadows - Amy Lane Page 0,36

we do next?”

Bartholomew set the two amulets down, took the six “friend” amulets in his hand, and faced the single white candle twined to the pot with a braided rainbow of yarn.

“That’s pretty impressive, and I don’t know what any of it means,” Lachlan said, and Bartholomew’s eyes got big.

“Oh, wait!” He turned back to the paper he’d been scribbling on and grabbed one of the pages. “Yeah, need this. Okay.” He bit his lip and closed his eyes and then opened them. “Do you have a lighter for the candles?”

“Yeah, drawer to your right.”

Bartholomew snagged it with one hand and scanned his lines with the other. Then he took a deep breath and expelled it, in a classic centering ritual.

“To strengthen friendship that’s being tried, to bless the bonds that have kept us sane, I light the candle of pure intentions. As I love my friends, may they bless my name.”

And with that, he lit the candle and dropped the discs into the potion mixture, saying, “Jordan our leader, kind and true, Josh the bard and protector, Kate who plans. Dante the writer, the wanderer, the watcher, Cully the dreamer with clever hands, Alex who makes magic with numbers—these are my friends, my coven, keep them safe from ill intentions, keep them safe from accidental wrongs, let them know my love is pure and chaste, the love of a friend who wants only their safety, their happiness, their hand of friendship in return.”

Lachlan watched his Adam’s apple bob then, and he remembered Bartholomew’s story of how they had all come to be. This meant something to him—possibly everything.

Or almost everything.

“Holy goddess, merciful god, capricious other, so may it be.”

Lachlan saw it then and was surprised that it wasn’t the shape of a dunce cap. Instead a glimmering shield of light rose above the pot, and the floral chamomile smell grew stronger, and the light grew brighter and brighter until Lachlan had to close his eyes.

A flash went off behind his lids, and then the kitchen went dark again and he smelled the acrid smoke of an extinguished candle.

When he opened his eyes again, the liquid mixture had completely dissipated—even the flower petals, tea leaves, and the cotton of the witch hazel pad had disappeared. In its place, the six amulets sat, satiny and stained in six of the seven colors that had been wrapped around the pot and the candle.

Lachlan said, “Ooooh…,” and next to him Bartholomew made a pleased grunt.

“It worked?” Lachlan asked.

“I thought it would just soak in—didn’t expect the light show and the poof,” Bartholomew said, and that whimsy that touched his mouth or his eyes sometimes was clear in his voice. “Here, let’s match the cords to the amulets.”

“Which one goes to which friend?” Lachlan asked curiously, and Bartholomew shrugged.

“I mean, I could probably analyze the colors and their meanings and figure it out, but I have the feeling my friends will know better than I will.”

“Wow, that’s sort of chancy, isn’t it?”

Bartholomew gave him a quiet grin. “That’s why we’re very kind to the chaotic other. He doesn’t get a lot of play in most rituals, but my coven believes very strongly in luck.”

Luck—like Bartholomew falling for him at the very beginning and carrying that torch for two years.

“I can deal with luck,” Lachlan said, his voice thin. “What next?”

Bartholomew turned to the other pot, which smelled strongly of roses and cloves, a smell very much reminiscent of flowers and flame. “Okay,” he said, some of his earlier confidence fading. “This one’s… this one’s harder.” His swallow was audible this time. “I… uh… are you sure you want this spell?”

“Do you?” Lachlan asked, concerned.

Bartholomew’s glance was naked and wanting. “For so long. It’s like my best dream.”

Aw, damn. “How would I say no to being your best dream?” Lachlan asked, and he’d meant it to sound light and flirty, but it didn’t.

Bartholomew nodded, still a little nervous.

Lachlan put his hand in the small of his back again. “That last one was pretty neat. I mean, the light show was surprising.”

Bartholomew flashed him a grin. “First time that happened we all stopped reading in the middle of the spell, we were so surprised. The magic got pissy again, and… well, we had to repaint the kitchen. We were doing it in mine and Alex’s house, and the new paint job was all neon and DayGlo colors. It was really hard to bake in there, and, well, I was installing a better oven the next week