Chapter seventeenUntimely Regrets

When I enter the kitchen the next morning, Leslie is drinking coffee at the tiny table. She’s dressed in a cotton nightgown and robe. Mr. Yeats sits on the floor by her feet, purring and wagging his tail. I’m glad he had a good night’s sleep. Agnes slept over because her sewer pipe needs replacing. The two of them made such a racket in bed, I barely got any shut-eye.

“Good morning, Leslie,” I say, yawning. “Where’s Agnes?”

“She’s still in bed. Never been a person to greet the sunrise, as you well know. Actually, I sensed your use of magic last evening when you returned from Archie’s. I wasn’t expecting you.”

After yesterday’s fiasco, I contemplate whether to tell them about my training session with Seamus. I prepare a cup of tea and sit across from her, inhaling the jasmine scent. I take a sip and wait for the caffeine rush to kick in. Agnes shuffles into the kitchen wearing a black nightgown and orange pumpkin slippers, the ones Shane put on clearance after Samhain. Her salt and pepper hair resembles a bird’s nest—one with less organization.

“Happy fucking morning,” she says, grabbing the kettle from the stove.

“Why don’t you warm up water in the microwave?” I ask. “Takes less time?”

She glares at me through slits. “You make your tea your way. I’ll make mine how I want.” She fills up the kettle and drops it on the burner. “What are you doing here, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to stay at Archie’s last night?”

Mr. Yeats’s yellow and blue eyes flip back and forth at us like a sideways pendulum. I take another sip of my tea and stare at the familiar, begging for a solution to my dilemma. He yawns at me. Thanks for nothing, busy body.

“You don’t have to answer, but did you have a lover’s quarrel?” Leslie asks.

I sigh and drop my cup on the saucer with a clink. “Yes, I should probably tell you both. Although Seamus would prefer I not share what happened.”

“This sounds serious,” she replies.

Agnes rubs her hands together. “Delicious gossip. Let me get my tea first.”

Leslie drops her mug on the table and sits back in her chair. I wait for my mentor to move next to Leslie with her tea and explain what happened at Seamus’s house—the amazing connection I had—and his kiss. When I’m finished, Leslie leans forward without a reply and finishes her coffee.

“Don’t you have an opinion? I thought you’d be pissed. Archie was.”

Agnes scowls at me. “I fucking do. What the fuck were you thinking, Gwyn? His magic is different. So, I’m not good enough for you now?”

“You took a risk practicing the craft with a cat sit witch,” Leslie says. “But it was your risk to take, not ours. You have taken many chances in the past but have always had good intentions in mind. Gwynedd, I understand your motives, and you will not get an admonishment from me. But I don’t sleep with you.”

“Right. Well, at least you’re not angry about it.” I stick my tongue out at my mentor.

Agnes guffaws. “But now we know who would like the job.”

“You’re enjoying my fuck up, aren’t you?” I ask.

“Damn straight,” she replies. “Oh, hell. I’m just messing with you, Gwyn. Poor Seamus, though.”

“Dr. Duffy is full of remorse for his actions, I am certain. I will not make any mention of this to him. It would embarrass him further. But I recommend you patch things up with Archie before your investigation in North Basin Creek Park.”

I get up from the table and place my cup in the sink. “Shit. I forgot about that.”

“Better plan on some kinky make-up sex. Works like a charm.” She winks at Leslie. “Doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

The Elder rolls her eyes. “Oh, Agnes. Gwyn, why don’t you tell us more about your success while I get breakfast started?”

“Sure,” I reply, getting up from the chair. “Agnes, sit down. You’re making me nervous standing there.”

“Great. My plan worked.” She plops in the seat, laughing. “What crystal did you combine with my geode to spark a reaction?”

“It’s in my backpack. I’ll get it and be right back.”

I dart to my bedroom, Mr. Yeats scuttling behind, and retrieve the clear quartz gem. When I return to the kitchen, Leslie is breaking eggs into a frying pan. I set the crystal on the table.

“This is the one I used. I had fabulous success combining the two, but I couldn’t get them to work last night. I was missing the trigger.”

“What do you mean?” Agnes asks, examining the stone. “You should have ignited the connection yourself.”

“I guess I needed a jump start,” I say.

She snickers and waggles her eyebrows. “I bet you did.”

“Don’t tease her, Agnes.” Leslie frowns at her.

“It overwhelmed me, and I nearly passed out. But Seamus caught me. That’s when he—you know.”

My mentor snorts. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it wasn’t funny when it happened. But hearing you describe it tickles me.”

“I’m so happy I can provide you with entertainment.” I get spinach and peppers from the fridge and cut them up.

“How will you pursue this now?” Leslie asks. “Since you won’t be meeting with Seamus to learn the next step.”

I expel a drawn-out sigh. “I don’t fucking know. Keep trying, I guess.”

“Gwyn, I’m no cat sith witch,” Agnes says. “But I’m happy to work with you for as long as it takes. We can discover the solution together.”

“Thanks. I may take you up on the offer. For now, I’ll do what I can on my own. I have a project due before Thanksgiving break.”

“Gwynedd, do not forget you’re an ancestral witch,” Leslie says with a lift of her chin. “You have untapped powers you continue to extract from within.”

She’s right, of course. But for now, all I’d pluck from my witchy innards is gas and an enormous sense of regret.

“Thank you for shopping at Mystic Sage,” I say, handing the customer his package.

The young student exits the store with his discounted Halloween merchandise as Shane strolls in with a box of holiday decorations.

“Can you help me hang this evergreen and holly garland?” he asks. “We should have put it up the day after Samhain.”

I lock the cash register. “Sure. Personally, I’m glad you were late getting it up. The holidays are so commercialized. On the other hand, I love the vibe of the holiday season. With Ronnie’s baby coming, the Fellowship has a lot to celebrate. I wish the police would have apprehended the kidnapping ring by now.”

“Darling, I share your sentiments,” he says, hanging sprigs of holly with a red bow. “I read in the news feed on my cell phone the Bearsden PD brought in the FBI.”

“Awesome, but wouldn’t it be great if we could identify their whereabouts? If only I could super-charge my witch’s intuition. I tried again last night. Seamus didn’t get to the next step in that process, and I’m not going back to ask him. He was so embarrassed.”