Spellbound: A magical sequel to Bewitched by Daisy Prescott Page A

can hear her tapping her fingers on her desk. When she speaks again, her voice is full of worry. “I’m not sure. Unlike you, my family never talks about magic or our infamous relative.”
    Understandable. Those conversations can wait for when or if Madison discovers her own abilities. If. There’s no guarantee that after she turns twenty-one her magic will reveal itself. Assuming she’s inherited skills from her ancestor. It’s possible there’s nothing magical about her. Although my mother is never wrong about her visions.
    Madison continues speaking, “You and Tate are a couple of true blue bloods.”
    “Not blue enough for my father. Despite Mom’s family going back to the seventeenth century, she doesn’t have the right lineage. A hanged witch is a black mark on the family tree.” I swallow before continuing, “When things went bad with my mother, he accused her of using spells on him to make him fall in love with her.”
    “That’s impossible. I thought you couldn’t manipulate emotions according to the sacred code?”
    “Apparently something can. Or someone who doesn’t care for coven laws is breaking them,” I grumble. I don’t tell her about my concerns about dark magic. If I don’t speak the words out loud, the idea will have less power over me. My biggest fear is losing her because of something out of my control.
    “I know you think Hamilton has some sort of secret power, but trust me, he doesn’t. Your mother had the coven look into his family. Not a single witch among them going back five generations.”
    “Then explain to me again why he’s turned into Mr. Charming while I’m stuck talking to you on the phone?” In annoyance, I flick my pen across the room. “How are your sessions going with the Witch Wildes?”
    “We drink a lot of tea while she asks me questions, makes me hold crystals, and stare at things.”
    “Any progress?”
    “I stared at the cat and silently asked him to get off my notebook. He moved about two minutes later.”
    “He’s stubborn.”
    “There was a fly in the window he started chasing. If he did hear me, he ignored me. Not exactly setting the world on fire with my mad magic skills.” She softly snorts. “Anything showing up in your research?”
    I exhale. “Nothing. I’m drinking gallons of dill water and smell like a pickle.”
    “This is temporary. Isn’t it?” Doubt creeps into her voice.  
    “I hope so.” I can’t reassure her because I don’t know. I won’t lie to her. I’m not even sure if I can lie to her. “I miss you. We’ve barely begun and now we’re apart.  
    “I miss you, too.”
    “Let me take you out for your birthday. I promise to be on my very best behavior.”
    She hesitates before responding. The pause kills me.  
    “Okay, but not a bar crawl or anything wild.”
    She doesn’t need to say it, but we both know me taking her to a bar full of drunk guys flirting with her would only end in mayhem.  
    “It’s your twenty-first birthday. Isn’t crazy expected? If you want to spend it out with the girls, I completely understand.”
    I barely hear her sigh through my phone.  
    “Sam said she has plans and we’ll go into Boston another time. I’m fine with something quiet as long as I’m with you.”
    Of course Sam would lie to her. I think surprise parties are more fun for the people plotting them.
    “As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine.” I say the words softly to reassure myself as much as her.

Eight

    “Happy twenty-first birthday!” I hold out the bouquet of flowers as a peace offering. Deepest purple, almost black flowers center the small cluster I selected myself. Roses didn’t feel right—too cliché for a girl like Madison.
    “You didn’t have to bring me flowers. They’re lovely.” Madison doesn’t move to get up from her nest of books on her bed. The look she gives me is cautious—cautiously pessimistic with a flicker of hope.
    “I’m here for our date.” On schedule, I’m