Joy of Witchcraft by Mindy Klasky Read Free Book Online

studied the shelves as if she were a customer in an exclusive organic market, tracking down the latest in gluten-free, cruelty-free, non-GMO, paleo-certified foods.
    I studied her as she shopped. Had she plotted with Pitt to release the satyr? If so, it had been a risky plan. She’d had no way of knowing I knew the banishing spell. She could have been the satyr’s next victim, as easily as any of my students.
    Besides, Teresa had to keep her distance from Norville Pitt. The inquest was a serious matter. Teresa was already on the hook to explain payments she’d made to Pitt, bribes intended to cripple the Jane Madison Academy. No sane witch—and whatever else she was, Teresa was coolly, coldly sane—would purposely draw even closer scrutiny from Hecate’s Court by intentionally sabotaging my magicarium’s Samhain working.
    I had to believe Teresa’s only goal had been to delay me, to gain access to the Osgood collection.
    But even that wasn’t entirely accurate. She longed for the riches of my arcane holdings. But she also disliked me. She disliked my warder.
    Dislike was too soft a word. Teresa wanted to torment David. He had once been tied to her coven, warding a Washington witch. He’d challenged his witch’s ethics, questioned her use of the Shadowed Path. Ultimately, David had been cashiered, detailed to work in Hecate’s Court. But not before he’d brooked Teresa’s authority. And for that, she’d never forgive him.
    “Ah!” Teresa breathed when she reached a particular section on the far wall.
    Of course. I should have known. She stood in front of the section about warders. I watched her finger a dozen titles, all classics in the field: Warders’ Ways: What Works for Women. Warders and Witches, a Historical Analysis of Successful Pairings. Who Wards the Warders? And the most valuable book I had on the subject, a first edition bound in ostrich, with hand-colored tipped-in plates: Warders’ Magic: A Complete Guide to Managing Your Protector .
    Teresa slid the book from the shelf. I had to give her credit. She knew her way around rare books. She didn’t tug at the top of the spine, didn’t stress the binding in any way. Instead, she cradled her prize like the treasure it was, carrying it to the reading stand I always kept prepared at the center of the room. She eased it onto the baize-covered surface, slipping velvet wedges beneath first the front cover, then the back. She carefully turned to the title page.
    She was good at hiding her reaction. A casual observer would think she was simply interested in an old book. But I saw the quick flare of her nostrils, the sudden dilation of her pupils as she studied the colophon, the early printer’s mark that indicated she held a first edition. Warders’ Magic excited her. She was thrilled.
    She closed it with the same precise care she’d given to taking it from the shelf. “I claim this book as benefaction.”
    I swallowed hard, not adverse to heightening my role-playing a bit. I let my teeth scrape my bottom lip. I glanced at the empty space in the collection, the darkness that now gaped like a missing tooth. I dripped a little of my real fatigue into my voice, letting my words quaver as I said, “I grant your claim. Let balance be restored between us. May we share perfect trust from this day forward.”
    “From this day forward,” she said, and then she intoned “Ethan.” She passed the book to her warder, like a 1950s heiress handing off a hatbox to her chauffeur. She actually snapped her fingers to summon Connie. The nervous familiar jumped as if she’d been shocked with a live electric wire. Then Teresa processed past David, climbing the stairs like Queen Elizabeth taking the throne.
    Not to be outdone, I followed her through the kitchen, past the spread of food in the living room, all the way to the front door. I waited for Ethan to reach for the doorknob. Only when he’d recognized the extent of the locking spell David maintained as a matter