Spells Trouble (Sisters of Salem #1) - P. C. Cast Page 0,41

all of the exhilaration until the space around them seemed to crack and pop like the last bits of milkshake being slurped through a straw. Now, Hunter would give anything to have that Mercy back.

Heal Mercy. Heal Mercy. Heal Mercy.

Energy pricked Hunter’s fingertips, sending a jolt down her arm that morphed the gentle butterflies flitting in her stomach into a swirling cyclone of swifts. She turned the large Mason jar and read what she’d written on her custom crescent-shaped label: APACHE TEARS. She picked up the jar and studied the stone resting in the bottom. The night Hunter had filled the glass with water and set it in the grass under the light of the full moon, the single speck of white in the center of the obsidian stone had flamed to life so bright that she’d had to shield her eyes. The power of the moon had released into the water the ancient healing properties of the Apache Tears stone. It was just the thing she’d need to heal her sister.

Hunter set the jar in the empty cauldron and resumed her scan of the few remaining jugs of moon water. Again, the tips of her fingers heated as she glossed them over the final Mason jar labeled: MANGANO CALCITE. Hunter couldn’t quite remember when she’d prepared this batch of moon water, but she was no stranger to its loving, compassionate, forgiving energy. It was one of her go-tos. She placed the second Mason jar into the cauldron and balanced the heavy bowl as she descended the stepladder and shuffled to the kitchen island.

The moment she placed the cauldron on the counter, her phone vibrated. It was funny how little coincidences like that happened. Like the universe was speaking directly to her, telling her she was doing the right thing, on the right path. Hunter suppressed the smile lifting the corners of her lips and tapped the notification. Emily’s latest message in the group text lit up the screen in all caps. They were here.

Hunter blew out a calming breath and brushed her ponytail off her shoulder. She could do this. She had to. She ran her hands over the bumpy outline of the moonstones in her pocket, picked up her cauldron, and hurried to the front door.

Mercy continued to tug on the pillow fringe and blankly stare at the floor while Hunter balanced her cauldron in one hand and opened the door with the other. The jars clanked as she pulled open the door, rushed out, and nearly collided with Jax.

Jax’s black brows knitted and he held out his hands. “Need some help with that?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Hunter’s cheeks heated as Emily and Kirk stepped onto the porch and the trio swarmed her. “Thanks for coming over so quickly.”

Jax took one jar of moon water and the black-and-white stone clinked against the glass. “We came the second you sounded the alarm.”

Emily crossed her arms over her chest and blew a bright pink bubble. “Yep,” she said as the gum popped without leaving a trace of sticky pink on her glossed lips. “All of us.” She rolled her eyes and tilted her head in Kirk’s direction.

The quarterback reached for the second jar and hiked his broad shoulders. “What? You guys came and got me because I was included in the group text, too.”

Hunter rubbed her fingers over the rough outlines of the moon phases etched in the side of her cauldron. “Well, I need all of you to make this spell work, so—”

Kirk held up the jar. “Wait, wait, wait. Spell? Like actual witch stuff?” He handed the jar to Jax and brushed his hands on his pants.

“Duh. They’re actual witches.” If Emily kept rolling her eyes she’d puke before the sun finished setting.

Kirk ran his hand through his hair, further spiking the gelled tips. “So, what? Are we going to do a séance or something?”

“No, moron.” Emily shoved the confused football star. “Hunter’s text said we’re here to help Mercy, not make everything worse.”

Kirk’s thin nose and round eyes scrunched as he rubbed his shoulder. “Talking to her mom’s ghost could make things better.”

Hunter’s pendant heated against her chest. “Stop!” She clenched her jaw and flattened her palms against the cool brass cauldron. “We’re doing a spell to cleanse Mercy of her grief. She—” Hunter swallowed and tucked back a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. “She goes through these periods where she won’t even talk. She just sits there crying, or worse, doing nothing at all.”