Payback's a Witch (The Witches of Thistle Grove #1)

by Lana Harper

The night air gusted against my face, smelling like an absolute of fall; woodsmoke and dying leaves and the faintest bracing hint of future snow.

Spicy and earthy, as if the lingering ghost of all the incense burned by three hundred years of witches had never quite blown away.

A perpetual Halloween smell, the kind that gave you the good-creepy sort of tingles.

As always, a candle burned in every window; thirteen flames, for prosperity and protection.

Caelia Blackmoore conjured a spectacular lightning storm, Margarita Avramov summoned spirits from beyond the veil to serve as witnesses, Alastair Thorn called down the birds from the sky as his congregation, and Elias Harlow drew forth his mighty quill and . . . Took a bunch of notes.

“For starters, your cheeks are the exact color of impure thoughts.”

how about . . . ‘to double double, toil and trouble, when plotters scheme and cauldrons bubble’?”

But blood is blood. There’s no substitute.”

“You know what Yoda said about trying,” she said, muffled. “It’s for fucking losers.”