“Soraya, can you get some selenite out of the bin?” Aggie asked.
Nora was fascinated that Soraya didn’t balk but went to grab the pale-white stone.
Aggie pushed the selenite, rose petals, and a piece of paper toward her.
God, this was hideous. Was she actually going to put a love spell on her own husband? Almost as hideous as having to show faith in the idea of magic and miracles. If only she could be half as cynical as she pretended.
You’ve seen it. You’ve seen it all come together since you met Daisy and Soraya at the hospital.
Why not try this?
An image of Sam filtered through her mind. Of the embarrassment she felt the last time she’d tried to appeal to the divine for answers.
I just want someone to love me.
She despised that she felt this way. That Ben hadmadeher feel this way. She still wanted him back. She wanted their life back.
“Write your desires down on the paper.”
Aggie passed a short pencil to Nora, and Nora sat there, holding the pencil in her hand, poised over the paper. “I just write what I want?”
“Yes.”
“How? I mean, isn’t there a formula to this?”
“Some people like to write out a spell as if their desire is something they have already. Some like to make requests. Some prefer poetry. Ifyou want to get really dramatic, you can turn in a circle three times and speak in Latin. This is all aboutyourmagic, Nora.”
Hermagic. She wanted to believe in it.
She wanted to believe inanythingright now, so she’d have some sign that she might be okay.
She lowered her head and looked at the paper. “I just write it.”
“Three times,” Aggie said.
I have the love I deserve.
She paused and studied the sentence. She hadn’t been aware that was what she was going to write. She imagined Sam again, looking at her, watching her do this. She felt hot, flustered like she had all those years ago, angry, and filled with a deep yearning she couldn’t quite put a name to. Then she pushed that away and thought about Ben. About their wedding. Their marriage. Their life.
He would want to come back to it. He would have to.
I have the love I deserve.
I have the love I deserve.
Aggie struck a match and lit a wide candle at the center of the table. It sparked, and then the fire burned to life. “Seal your intentions with flame, and put the ashes into the bag with the selenite and the rose petals. Then put it under your pillow.”
Nora lifted the paper, her hand shaking, and touched the corner to the fire.
It went up in a flash, before turning to shimmering ashes.
Chapter Eleven
Soraya
A witch is simply a woman who listens to her intuition.
—Rules for Witches
