Page 14 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

“I know it’s safer,” Maddy finally agreed. “I also know we’ve tempered our magic down—” Maddy stopped, wincing. “Sorry, Ags. I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” Augustine cut her sister’s apology off easily. She was used to it by now, being the exception, rather than the rule. Maddy didn’t mean any harm by it, she knew that.

“No one knows about us,” Maddy reassured before she turned to Augustine and said, “You’re absolutely certain you’ve never let it slip out?”

Augustine felt a sudden flicker of guilt, because Roy knew, of course. Roy knew everything. But then Roy was . . . Roy. Buried in his writing at home, listening to Madonna and The Spice Girls on repeat. He went out so infrequently Augustine had begun to believe he was allergic to people. More than that, he didn’t give a flying fuck what she did with herself or her time, so long as she didn’t move his furniture and paid the rent on time.

Aloud, she said, “No one knows. No one can know.”

Maddy stopped pacing and looked at her. “But this man does,” she said quietly.

Augustine nodded, a new vein of worry opening in her blood.

Maddy inhaled slowly, visibly steadying herself. “I need to let Clem and Celeste know.”

Augustine’s head snapped up. “No! Mads, don’t. There’s no proof yet. You’ll only worry them.”

Maddy nodded once, but Augustine could tell from the look in her eyes that she’d already decided. “Maybe. But better to be safe than sorry. It’ll keep them on guard. Just in case.”

Augustine pressed her lips together, knowing when she was outvoted.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Maddy asked.

Augustine didn’t hesitate. She nodded.

That was all it took. Maddy sprang into motion, crossing the shop in long strides and snapping the blinds shut one by one. The room dimmed, incense smoke curling thicker in the half-light.

“What are you doing?” Augustine asked, heart ticking up a notch.

“I’m going to cast a protective spell,” she said briskly. “Just in case. There’s only so much black tourmaline can do. I need salt, sage and a knife. Can you get me some?”

Augustine nodded.

“Eggshells too,” Maddy added, and Augustine shook her head.

“Sorry, I don’t have any.”

“No eggs? What kind of a witch’s shop is this?” Maddy was indignant. “What? Not even in the place upstairs?”

“What place upstairs? There’s no place upstairs.”

Maddy blinked once and then twice, and it was like watching someone wake up mid-sentence. Her shoulders dropped, the sharp focus draining out of her expression as she held Augustine’s curious gaze. “Oh,” she said. Then, after a beat, “Right.”

Augustine frowned at her. “Maddy . . . ?”

“Sorry,” Maddy said again, waving a hand vaguely, like she was shooing away a thought that had overstayed its welcome. “I just got muddled up. That happens sometimes.”

“That happens how sometimes?”

Maddy shrugged. “It’s been a long day, that’s all. I just got confused.” She cleared her throat. “Are you sure you don’t have any eggs?”

“Not unless you can lay one yourself,” Augustine replied flatly, still caught by her sister’s uncharacteristic confusion, but Maddy only frowned.

“We’ll just do without the eggshells, I guess,” she said, picking up the salt with renewed determination, like this was all perfectly normal and not at all unsettling. “I’m going to cast a protective circle from those who mean you harm. Right here, around your till. When this guy comes back, make sure you’re standing in it, okay? If he enters the circle without any issue, you’ll know he’s okay.”

“Attach myself to my desk. Got it.” Augustine watched as her sister began trailing salt crystals along the floor, the scent of burning sage already strong in the air.

“And Ags?” Maddy turned back to Augustine suddenly, her eyes sharp, all levity gone. “When he comes back, find out how he knows about you. Find out everything you can.”