Page 13 of Kiss and Spell
It was the flickering candlelight that caught Ursula’s attention in the glittering ballroom. The flame burned neon green, giving the space an otherworldly glow. Wall-length mirrors in gilded frames reflected the beauty around her. She caught her reflection in the mirror and stood stunned. Is that me? Her bone-white gown was embroidered with crystals that caught the green light and made her shimmer. Ursula glanced around. Guests wore designer tuxedos and fine twinkling dresses. Dancers twirled on the floor like spinning flowers falling from a tree. Everyone danced and swayed except for one person, a man dressed in regal clothes. From his wide sash and the crown on his head, she knew that he was a prince. Her prince.
He was masked, but recognition echoed in her bones. Even though she hadn’t seen his face, she knew his soul. She called out to him, but once she spoke, the dream faded away into darkness. Ursula woke up, rolled over on her back, and looked up at the ceiling. She let out an annoyed grumble and reached underneath the pillow. Ursula pulled out the flat amethyst crystal and sighed. It seemed her subconscious hadn’t gotten the memo that she was done with fairy tales. She dropped the crystal on the bedside table next to her phone.
Everything was super quiet in the apartment. Sunlight streamed into the window, but the clock on the oven was dark. Ursula didn’t hear the familiar hum of the fridge that usually lulled her to sleep. She checked her phone, plugged in on the nightstand. It was only charged halfway. Oh, that wasn’t good. Ursula called Mama.
She answered with a pleasant trill. “Good morning, my darling. Happy equinox.”
There was a rustling of pans on the other end of the line. Ursula returned the greeting, then addressed the situation. “Is something going on with the power? Nothing’s working in the apartment.”
“Did you get my text?”
Ursula arched and stretched, trying to shake off any lingering sleep. “I just woke up. I forgot my alarm.”
There was more banging of pots from Mama’s end. “I meant to tell you. The light company called. The power is out in the whole building,” she said. “We’re closed.”
Ursula rubbed her eyelids and bit back a curse. “When did that happen?”
Mama let out an annoyed breath. “It was in the middle of the night, but they’re working on it now. It’s going to take a while. Take the day off. I’m going to be busy prepping for the house party. You’re welcome to come over and hang out. Your cousins are here.”
“Oh, really?”
“Come over to the house. Ask if Sirena or Callie are doing anything fun today. Maybe you can join them. It’s been so long since you’ve been together.”
Nope. Ursula’s gut clenched at just the idea of being in the same room as Sirena, Callie… or even Lucy. Don’t go there. She wasn’t ready to even think about seeing Lucy again.
“Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll probably stay here.”
Mama made another annoyed sound but didn’t push the issue any further.
Ursula hadn’t been to the Caraway house since she demanded Lucy recast the Wish Spell and was rightfully refused. The memory of her acting so selfishly and cruelly at that fateful dinner filled her with shame. No, she wasn’t ready to see them or the house yet. The ancestral Caraway home had been passed from Caraway to Caraway witch since the turn of the century. The Victorian manor was the safe space for all the witches and casters in their family. Ursula wasn’t going to step over the threshold until she’d completed her list. Nana Ruth once said the worst thing you could do with your natural magic was to misuse it, refute it, or waste it. In her quest to reach that happily-ever-after, Ursula had refuted everything about being a Caraway. For her, completing this list would allow her to celebrate and honor the familial magic she disrespected.
She’d revisit the Boss Witch List once she got hot coffee and breakfast in her system. Her eyes darted to the fridge, thinking of all the food that might spoil due to the lack of power. If she kept the door closed, she might be able to save the milk. Why couldn’t I see this problem coming? Ever since she cast the Wish Spell, it was like she was wearing blinders and stumbling into the uncertain future.
The universe apparently wasn’t done with knocking her down.
Mama’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts, making Ursula refocus on her words.
“Sula, don’t sit in the dark,” Mama said. “Get yourself something to eat. I’ll Zemo you.”
Ursula covered her face, charmed at Mama mistaking two separate cash-sharing apps for one. “That’s… not a thing. That doesn’t exist.”
“Go and treat yo’ self,” Mama sang. “Go visit Gwen. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
“I don’t know.” Ursula rocked back and forth.
“Doesn’t she make her chocolate croissants today?” Mama asked in a not-so-innocent tone. Ursula perked up. That question kicked her tastebuds and her butt into gear. Gwen’s handmade pastries made gargoyles weep with bliss and sold out every day. If she left now, she might manage to get a chocolatey puffy treat in her hands.
Fifteen minutes later and using a fierce power walk that would make Olympian competitors proud, Ursula made it to Gwen’s bistro. She paused for a second before she went inside, studying her reflection in the front door. Please let me look gorgeous just in case I run into my ex and his new woman today. Long-sleeve graphic T-shirt with a bohemian image of a celestial moon. Cute dark-wash jeans. Ankle boots. Messy bun, whole lotta fun. Her quartz crystal pendant swinging from her neck. Tote bag slung over her shoulder.
Eh. It was a step down from her previous bougie witch style, but it would do.
Ursula took one last calming breath and repeated her brand-new mantra.
Be the enchantress.
She entered the Night Sky Bistro; the bell jangled at the corner. Framed antique postcards of Saturn and constellations lined the back navy-blue wall. Artisan sandwiches and bowls were arranged in a window display next to the stainless-steel counter and sleek cash register. Tall glass cases were almost empty save for a few leftover items: glazed doughnuts, paper-wrapped muffins, and croissants. Daily specials named after heavenly bodies were written in elegant white script on the black chalkboard by the cashier.
The sitting area consisted of small tables, where students from the local colleges had their laptops open and coffee cups half empty. Ursula approached the counter. Gwen was finishing making a fancy-looking drink in a big porcelain cup. Her microbraids were pulled away from her heart-shaped face, showing off her light silver eyeshadow and glossy lips. She wore the employee outfit—a Bistro T-shirt and black jeggings with high-top sneakers.