Wand Blocked

As we walk up to the house, my eyes widen at the hundreds of pumpkins forming an orange-and-white moat surrounding our house. A scarecrow peeks from the gate near the garden, and someone had strung garlands of fall leaves around the banisters.

"What in the world…?" My head swivels from side-to-side as I take it all in. "What ghost of autumn hell threw up all over our house?"

Tris grins with delight at the excess. "We are so going to win that porch contest!"

"We live on a hill!" I throw my arms outward to encompass all the empty space with no other houses in sight. "They're not going to come up here to look!"

"Sugar pie!" Tris darts forward to pluck a small, round pumpkin off the grass and holds it aloft by its stem. "Think Jesse will turn this one into a pie for me?"

I perk up with interest. "I've never had pumpkin pie from scratch before."

Delilah pauses next to me, her breaths quick and her cheeks rosy from the walk up the steep driveway. "What happened to swearing off pie?"

"That's apple pie. Pumpkin is different." I scamper over and dig out another pumpkin that matches the one Tris grabbed. "We'll need whipped cream. Text Owen to stop on the way home."

"On it." Tris tucks the pumpkin under his arm, transfers the empty pie pan to that hand, and pulls his phone from his sweatshirt pocket. He presses the record button and dictates into the microphone. "Owen, pick up some whipped cream at the store. For pie. If you want some for kinky times, buy extra. Hearts and kisses."

"You forgot to tell him how much to bring." Eager to get out of the cold, I hurry up the porch. "How will we know if he's brought extra?"

"We'll just have to assume based on the quantity." Tris offers an elbow to help Delilah.

Our shoes leave dusty footprints on the stark white boards, the paint brighter than the rest of the house. The porch stairs had been destroyed when a werewolf not in control of his own mind had thrown a van door at me.

Haut fixed the stairs, then grumbled about the house needing a refresh once the weather warms up again. Tris and I have started a campaign for a purple house, but so far, we're outnumbered two to three. Good thing we have a long winter ahead to bring one more of our housemates to our side.

As I open the front door, the warmth of the house wraps around me like a cozy blanket. The scent of savory stew fills the air, making my mouth water despite how full of pie I am.

Which lends credit to my belief that there is a dessert stomach and an everything-else stomach.

Murmurs come from the living room, announcing that some of the coven members have already arrived. I peek into the room on my right, next to the stairs, and see Ambyrlynn and Ginny sprawled out on the L-shaped couch, mugs of cocoa in their hands.

"Welcome home!" Harper pops out of the kitchen on my left. "The kettle is almost heated. Want some hot chocolate to warm up? Or would you prefer cider?"

Nausea threatens to eject an entire day's worth of pie, and I suppress a gag. "Nothing apple flavored."

"Cocoa it is." She ducks back through the archway.

I take Delilah's jacket so she can join the others, and then I follow Tris, pausing at the coat closet along the way.

Harper bustles around the kitchen, making herself at home as she prepares more drinks. Since we hold classes here, our house has become like a second home to the other witches in town.

Tris sets his empty pan on the counter next to two bubbling crockpots and places the pumpkin in the center. "Think this is enough of a hint?"

"Let's make it clearer." Digging another pan out from under the cabinet in the island, I set it beside his, along with my pumpkin. "There. No way he can miss that."

"Rowe, Tris, come upstairs for a minute!" Owen yells from the second floor.

"What? No! You're supposed to be at work!" Tris rushes toward the steep staircase. "How are you going to swing by the store if you're already home?"

Owen appears at the top of the stairs. "Haut will pick up your whipped cream. He's already stopping for bread."

Hand on the railing, I hurry up after Tris. "Did you relay the whole message?"

His brow furrows. "I don't know what blinky hems means, so no, I didn't tell him that. You can text him an update."

I poke Tris's side. "Proofread before sending next time."

"My hands were full." He slaps away my prodding fingers. "And I trusted Owen to interpret through context."

"Less trust in the future." Owen beckons us toward the gaping hole that used to be Ros's room. "I'd like your opinion on the skylights."

Alarmed, I hurry over to him. "We don't need skylights! Why do you keep wanting to make holes in my meditation space?"

He pauses beside a ladder that leads into the blown-out ceiling. "Because our new living space needs more light."

"That's what lightbulbs are for!" I scramble up the rungs into the construction site.

Ambros had moved his queen-sized bed into my old room, which Tris had technically been occupying. Tris never slept in there, though, since it only had a twin-size mattress. With Ambros settled, we'd knocked down the walls to his room to make way for the staircase that will lead into the attic.

Or, what used to be the attic. Now, wooden frames mark what will be a larger master suite, with plumbing for a new bathroom. A second bathroom will be added below, in the leftover space from Ros's room, bringing our house into the modern age.

The rest of the space will be divided into two smaller bedrooms and a sitting area. When I protested that I didn't need such a large bedroom, the others were quick to remind me of the bed upgrade I would also be receiving. The monster mattress will be custom-built to sleep all five of us comfortably.

The idea terrifies me. It will require a map just to locate the center. And since I can't read maps, I'll get lost, and no one will ever find me.

A few workers move around the space, getting ready to install insulation, but Owen leads us to the other side of the attic.

"The bonus room will be here." Owen gestures to the largest of the walled in spaces, then gestures up at the ceiling, where the wiring for electricity hangs from the rafters. "So I'm thinking about two skylights going here. It won't even affect your rooftop retreat."

I study the distance from the stairs to the widow walk and where he points. "Aren't we already putting in windows? Skylights are just asking for a flood the next time it rains."

Tris nods. "Besides, they're harder to block out for movie night."

"But better for stargazing." Owen wraps an arm around me and draws me against his side, his lips finding my ear. "Imagine snuggling up on the couch beneath a blanket, all the lights turn off, watching for shooting stars while staying warm inside."

A shiver goes through me at the image he paints. "Yes, I want that."

He nuzzles my cheek. "I knew you'd like the idea."

"Okay, Mr. Romantic." Tris tugs me from Owen's embrace. "Now that you've gotten your way, we need to get back downstairs for class."

Owen strides to the table with the construction plans. "Be good little witches and listen to your teachers."

"Never!" I race for the ladder.

Tris chases after me. "Naughty witches have more fun!"

We slow when we reach the stairs. Falling down them would be no joke. Especially since neither of us has super healing.

"You just got played back there," Tris teases, walking down ahead of me.

"I know," I sigh. "But it made him so happy."

Tris grips the handrail to peer over his shoulder. "How does it feel?"

"To make Owen happy?" I smile dreamily. "It's fantastic."

"Well, duh." Tris rolls his eyes. "I meant, how are you holding up with making all these changes to your grandma's house?"

My gaze sweeps over what I can see of the downstairs. I have many good memories of coming here to visit. Tangled up with them, though, is what I know now of the type of woman my grandmother really was, and the horrors that had driven my father to stop bringing me here.

She had always welcomed me with hugs and cookies, always had a place for me at her side while she told me stories. But she was also the person who turned Owen away when he was cursed after saving my life. Who held herself above the people of Hartford Cove.

At the same time, she had also taken in Haut when his father was killed. Had she done that out of kindness, though, or so she could use him as a tool?

Even though he couldn't perform magic, she raised him as her apprentice, in case she died before I returned. For a long time, it had just been her and Haut living here in this giant house, separated from the rest of the town.

Now, warmth and laughter fill the air, and so many people live under this roof that we need more space.

"It feels like change." I meet Tris's eyes once more. "Necessary change. A house like this is meant to hold a big family, and that's what we're doing with it. Now that there are no threats looming over us, no dark clouds on the horizon, we can focus on us. It feels peaceful. Like we can finally breathe."

Tris's eyes widen in mock fear. "Shh, don't jinx it!"

I shove him off the last step. "You shush. You know acknowledging a jinx makes it happen!"

"We need a banishing potion!" He rushes toward the kitchen. "I'll get the marshmallows!"

Giggling, I join the others in the living room, where I spot Mel and Aspen with their heads close together, deep in conversation by the fireplace. The two have grown closer now that Aspen has pulled the wand out of his ass and Mel is back to embracing her dark eyeliner, tight black pants, and rock T-shirts.

To combat the cold weather, she wears striped thermal undershirts, which look wicked. She also sports an oversized black jacket that resembles a cape with armholes in the sides and a pointy hood that reminds me of a witch's hat.

As I watch, Aspen's hand slips inside the cape, and I bristle.

While I may like the man more now, no one gets their freak on in my house except for me. They've already made out in my driveway, my garden, and behind my porch.

"Mel!" I bounce over to her side with a broad grin on my face, and Aspen snatches his hand back. "How are the plans for the shop coming along?"

She casts me a dry look, fully aware I'm wand blocking her. Turnabout is fair play, though, and she's wand blocked me more than once. "It's going fine. Most of my shipments have come in, so I should have the doors open by next month, as planned."

"We were just discussing the ethicalness of selling candles with names such as ‘Hex Your Ex'." Aspen smooths down the crisp lines of his button-up shirt. "A real magic shop should not mislead its patrons by selling items that don't actually do what they claim."

Mel's thin, black brow arches. "Careful, or the next candle I light will do what it claims."

Aspen straightens at the challenge in her words. "Does that mean I'm dangerously close to becoming your ex?"

Mel's chin lifts, and she stares down her nose at him. "We'd have to be dating again for that to be the case."

Electricity sparks in his frosty, blue eyes, and he moves to close the distance between them. Which I currently occupy, but my short statue makes me invisible.

"Wow, look at the time!" I strong-arm Aspen back a step to give me space. "Let's start class!"

Mel's laughter rings through the room. "It's good to see you eager to learn for once, Rowe."

"Yes, it is." Aspen brushes the front of his shirt where my hand wrinkled the material. "You can be the one who leads the protection spell today, since you're raring to go."

I slump at the words. Should have just let them make out in my living room. What does it really matter when they've already desecrated my yard?

"Come on, gather ‘round, everyone." Mel motions for those who still linger by the stairs to join us.

It's a tight fit for all thirteen of us, but the basement is like an ice box right now. It's next on the list for remodeling, just as soon as we deal with the rickety elevator. The damn thing is too small for construction supplies and threatens to fall every time I step onto it.

Nervous as the others form a circle, I pull my wand from the sheath at my wrist.

Ambros had made it for me after one too many instances of my wand falling out of my pocket. The materials are hard to come by, so making a replacement would be difficult. He had modeled the armband after his huntsmen gear. Where his holds a knife, mine ensures that my wand stays safe and with me at all times.

Despite the teasing, Mel gives me a reassuring smile. "Remember, deep breaths and clear intention."

I try to embody calm, which is no easy feat with four slices of sugary pie making my bones vibrate.

"Circle of friends, hearth and home," I start, voice steady as I move my wand deosil around the gathered witches. "Protect this space, our hallowed…dome."

With a grimace for the cheesy poem, I flick my wrist, and blue sparks dance in the air before sinking into the hardwood floor.

"Good job, Rowe." Aspen grips my shoulder. "But remember, spells don't have to rhyme."

"It's easier to memorize when they do, though." I tuck my wand back up my sleeve. "I'll figure out something else."

Mel's hand falls on my other shoulder. "Stick to what works for you. Rhyming is fine."

Aspen's hold on me tightens. "It's more limiting and is a bad habit."

Mel's fingers dig in. "It shows mental flexibility and creativity."

When Aspen and Mel aren't sucking face, they're butting heads, and I end up being the problem witch, stuck between them more often than I'd like.

Pulled like a tug of rope by two growling mentors, I silently seek Tris's eyes and mouth, Help.

Bestest friend and eternal spark that he is, he gives me two thumbs up and stays out of it.