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Hedgewitchin' in the Kitchen Page 11


  “Is Felix Thatch your brother?” she asked.

  Lucifer nodded. He didn’t need to point to the “Y/N” for that one.

  “Is that what you were trying to tell me?” she asked.

  He nodded again.

  “Does Felix Thatch know?”

  He tilted his head to the side as if thinking it over and then shook his head.

  Abigail thought about the conversations she’d had with Mr. Thatch about his bird. “Do you want him to know?”

  He tilted his head to the side again. After a moment, he spelled out what he wished to say. Abigail wrote the letters down and then spoke the response out loud to make sure she understood. “When we were children, he left me to die. I haven’t decided if I trust him.”

  “Perhaps there’s more to the story than that.” Abigail petted his back.

  He snorted and looked away.

  “We won’t know why he left you unless we ask.”

  Lucifer batted at the letters again. “The principal is a lecherous pervert. Tell Clarissa to stay away from him.”

  “You say that about all men.” She sighed in exasperation.

  Lucifer pointed to the letters again. “You do realize he wiped your memories away. On purpose.”

  She thought back to the haziness that clouded her mind when in the principal’s office. “Why did he do that?”

  “You tried to blackmail him into changing me back into a man.”

  She laughed. If that was the case, she couldn’t completely blame the principal.

  “Tell Clarissa the next time you write her not to go alone to the principal’s office,” Lucifer said.

  “Okay. I’ll tell her.” She would consider telling her daughter anyway. She redirected the conversation back to more important matters. “Are you sure you don’t want to return to Baba’s?”

  “I am certain.”

  She frowned. She had known he would say that, but she’d had to try. “I’ve been thinking about your affinity and how it works. Vega Bloodmire accidentally changed you back to a man because she activated your magic while you were both cats, and it broke through Baba’s spell.” Her cheeks flushed with anger as she thought about that woman with her Lucifer. She tried to tamp down the jealousy. “What if we try again, but on purpose?”

  “You want me to try to harness my incubus magic? With Vega?” He covered his face with his paws.

  She swallowed, her confidence faltering. “No. With me. I’ll need Vega’s help transforming me into a cat.”

  He looked to her with surprise. She was afraid he might say no, that he had fallen out of love with her and the idea repulsed him.

  Slowly he spelled out his message. “Vega said she likes cheesecake. How soon can you make one?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Purrfect Furever

  Abigail wished Lucifer could be returned to the form of a human. He had told Vega that he wished Abigail could be a cat. Such a solution was the second-best thing, and if Abigail changed Lucifer back in the process, so much the better.

  That meant striking a bargain with a semi-wicked witch, Vega Bloodmire.

  Abigail wrote to Vega, inviting her over for an evening of cheesecake and spell craft. Vega wrote back. She came to Abigail at the next full moon.

  Vega stepped through the door of Abigail’s home, her eyes taking in the modest furnishings. Potted plants lined every windowsill and dangled from shelves, making the living room look like a jungle.

  Vega inhaled deeply. “You have cheesecake, I trust?”

  “Yes. Make yourself at home. I’ll bring you a slice.”

  Abigail returned a moment later to find Vega with Lucifer seated beside her, his ears twitching with anxiousness. Vega kicked her feet up onto the coffee table and accepted the plate. Abigail waited with anticipation for Vega to try it. Vega closed her eyes and moaned.

  She wondered what Vega’s heart truly desired, delicious vegan cheesecake or rebelling against her grandmother’s traditions. Or perhaps it was that hint of love and longing in her for someone she couldn’t have that was her true reason for helping Abigail.

  “The cake is to your liking?” Abigail asked.

  Vega shrugged. “It’s all right.”

  Abigail tried not to laugh.

  “Just so you know, the spell will only last until midnight,” Vega said. “And there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to change him into a human like I did. I have real magic. You just have . . . kitchen magic.” Vega savored another bite, unable to conceal her pleasure. “In any case, you should be able to get some hot, animal sex out of this.”

  Abigail’s heart lurched in sudden nervousness. She had once loved Lucifer. She still did, but it had been years since she’d been with a man. Since her husband’s death.

  “One more thing.” Vega waved her fork toward Lucifer. “Don’t you dare tell Clarissa about this.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a reputation to keep up. I can’t have people thinking I’m . . . nice.” She made a face as though that were the most awful thing in the world.

  Vega acted like she didn’t care, but Abigail could tell she did. It made Abigail feel better knowing she had made friends with Clarissa’s supposedly wicked roommate. After helping Abigail barter with Baba to free Petra, and her willingness to help Abigail with Lucifer’s curse, she felt like she could count on Vega to look out for her daughter. Clarissa needed powerful alliances to survive in the Unseen Realm.

  The spell wasn’t long or complex, but it required that Abigail drink a potion outside under the light of the full moon after Vega chanted in another language. Abigail selected a spot under the ancient oak tree in her back yard that would cloak their activities from the neighbors if they should be watching.

  Abigail hesitated with the bottle of witch’s brew inches from her lips, worrying she might have misjudged Vega’s good intentions. What if Vega turned her into a cat forever because she was just as wicked as Baba Nata? Abigail had gone the majority of her life distrusting witches. It was a difficult habit to break.

  “What are you waiting for?” Vega asked. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  “I just wonder, what if I don’t turn back?” She might enjoy being a cat, but she wouldn’t be able to be there for Clarissa if her daughter needed her again.

  “You wish!” Vega cackled. “If I did that, I’d never get anymore cheesecake or pudding out of you.”

  Abigail drank the potion. It churned in her belly and made her feel as though she might vomit. She fell to her knees. Fire lanced through her muscles, and her bones flared with pain. A giant weight pressed in on her from all sides as she shrank.

  The winter coat she’d worn over her clothes smothered her, and she squirmed out of them. Her skin prickled with cold and then heat. Striped orange fur sprouted from her flesh. The color wasn’t so different from her hair as a human.

  The night around her wasn’t as dark as it had been moments ago. With her new vision, she could see everything. She could see the mice in the shadows and smell the exquisite aroma of catnip growing somewhere nearby.

  She batted at her nose, the gesture awkward and uncoordinated. She was a cat. The spell had worked!

  “Have fun, kittens.” Vega returned to the house. She watched them out the window of the back door for a moment, another slice of cheesecake in hand before turning away.

  Lucifer brushed his tail against Abigail’s leg, drawing her attention. She touched her nose to his. He nuzzled his face against her neck and purred.

  He’d gotten his wish. She was a cat. Now she just had to make her dreams come true and enchant him into becoming a man again. Where there was a hex, there was a way.

  THE END

  Thirteen Magical Recipes from Womby’s School for Wayward Witches

  Entrées And Savory Dishes

  Tamale Pie

  No tamales are actually injured in the creation of this pie—unless you substitute tamale sauce
for salsa. For those that do not like tomatoes, try this with a green chili sauce instead.

  Ingredients for filling

  • 2 pounds ground hamburger

  • 1 jar salsa (16 ounces or 2 cups)

  • 1 can corn (about 2 cups)

  • 1 can sliced black olives (about ½ cup)

  • 1 can refried beans

  • 2-3 cups cheddar cheese

  • 1 tsp. garlic powder

  • 1 tsp. salt

  • ½ tsp. black pepper

  • 1 tsp. chili powder

  • ½ tsp. cumin powder

  * tsp. smoked paprika optional

  • corn bread batter made from cornbread recipe below

  Ingredients for cornbread crust

  (If in a hurry, use 1 Jiffy cornbread mix instead and follow instructions.)

  • 2/3 cup cornmeal

  • ¾ cup all-purpose flour

  • 1 Tbsp. baking powder

  • ½ tsp. baking soda

  • 1 tsp. salt

  • 1 egg, beaten

  • 1 cup milk

  • 3 Tbsp. honey

  Directions

  1. Brown hamburger meat on the stovetop. Drain excess fat.

  2. Stir in salsa and spices

  3. Add corn, beans, olives, and cheese to hamburger mixture. Place in an oven safe dish. This can be divided into two pie pans or a deep 9 x 13 baking pan.

  3. Make cornbread mix. Stir dry ingredients. Blend wet ingredients. Add wet ingredients to dry. Spread on top of the hamburger mixture.

  4. Bake at 400° F or 200 ° C, until cornbread is golden and solid when tapped. About 20 minutes.

  Baking Tip

  If the baking dish isn’t deep enough to contain overflow, place on a pan with a lip to catch spills while baking.

  

  Kitchen Witching Tip

  There are two ways to stir a cauldron: widdershins or deasil.

  When making food without a magical purpose, bread batter, stew, or pudding can be stirred in either direction—though it is good practice to always stir in the standard direction known as deasil. For magical purposes, one must understand the difference between deasil and widdershins.

  Deasil is to go clockwise, with the direction of the sun, also called “sunwise” or “sunward.” This means a practitioner is going with the flow of nature and life, which is important in nature magic. Spells will have a positive effect when stirred deasil and bring good luck.

  Widdershins is counterclockwise. Although many consider widdershins to be bad luck and goes against the natural flow of nature, some spell work calls for that direction. It depends on the desired effect. If one is binding, hexing, cursing, or defending oneself, widdershins might be necessary.

  Use caution with widdershins as it may bring great power, but often with strong magic, there is a cost.

  

  Kitchen Omens

  Doors opening by themselves can be the sign of company coming. Cupboards left open is a sign people are gossiping about you. A falling picture means someone will be going on a journey.

  Someone who knocks a chair over while getting up from the table lied while sitting in it.

  Cracks in the ceiling signal that bad weather is coming.

  Clarissa’s Tamale Pie Memories

  Excerpt from Tardy Bells and Witches’ Spells

  I retreated into Narnia and sat in the wardrobe, pretending I was elsewhere. It was fine, I told myself. I could go to the library and read whatever I wanted. I would be like the character from Matilda with my untapped potential ready to explode. My anger simmered inside me.

  A few minutes later when Missy began to scream at my parents, I closed the doors to my wardrobe to muffle the sound. I watched out the crack between the doors when my parents marched past my room again. They didn’t carry anything from Missy’s room. And why would they? She didn’t like fantasy or witches.

  We ate dinner at ten that night, hours later than we usually did. Dad heated up leftover tamale pie. Mom chopped cilantro from the garden and sprinkled it on top. I didn’t feel hungry. Maybe it was that granola bar Dad had bought me from the vending machine at the hospital that had ruined my appetite. Or maybe it was my life.

  No one spoke as we ate. Missy pushed the food around on her plate, but didn’t eat. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes were dark. I didn’t know what she was sulking about. Mom hadn’t carried boxes of things out of her room.

  I tried to make myself eat, but I couldn’t manage more than a bite. I was too angry—at my mom for taking away my things, at my dad for letting her, and at Missy for blaming me. Everything about my life sucked.

  Halfway through dinner, Lucifer rubbed up against Mom’s leg and meowed. She silently rose. I thought she meant to see if Lucifer was out of water or food. A moment later she came back. She held a Ziploc bag of shredded herbs.

  Missy’s eyes went wide. “I was just holding that for a friend.”

  “Please say this is tea.” Mom said through clenched teeth. She tossed it on the table.

  Dad opened the bag and sniffed. He held it away from himself, making a face. “Yuck! That stinks. But it’s not marijuana.”

  “Yeah, Mom, duh. What did you think it was?” Missy asked. “Drugs? Really? I’m on cheer team.”

  My sister might have turned into a grade A jerkface over the summer, but she didn’t use drugs. I didn’t think she would ever use drugs after the incident at the fair. But she had sprinkled putrid herbs on the pentagram when we’d been in the basement earlier. Maybe these were the same kind.

  Missy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

  “Eat your dinner. It will make you feel better,” Mom said.

  “Why? What did you put in it?” Missy demanded. “Something to make me into a good girl?”

  Mom’s eyes narrowed.

  Dad tried to make a joke out of it. “If only your mother would put something in it. I probably would like tamale pie better if it was more like Uncle Trevor’s ‘special’ brownies.” He chuckled.

  No one else laughed. Partly out of spite to show everyone I wasn’t going to be rude like Missy, and partly because I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings and not eat dinner, I stopped stirring around the casserole and ate a few tentative bites. For the briefest moment, I thought I saw glitter flash and flicker above my plate, but then it was gone.

  Mom smiled and stroked my hair out of my face. Eating did make me feel better. After hours of holding tension in my muscles, it melted away. The anger and hurt that I’d been holding onto faded. My mom’s cooking always had that effect on me. I wondered if I would ever be able to cook as well as she did.

  Irish Lamb Stew

  Ingredients

  • 1 ½ pounds thickly sliced bacon, diced

  • 6 pounds boneless lamb shoulder, cut into 2-inch pieces

  • ½ tsp. salt

  • 1 tsp. ground black pepper

  • ½ cup all-purpose flour

  • 3 cloves garlic, minced

  • 1 large onion, chopped

  • ½ cup water

  • 4 cups beef or chicken stock

  • 2 tsp. white sugar

  • 4 cups diced carrots

  • 2 large onions, cut into bite-size pieces

  • 3 potatoes

  • 3 Tbsp. tomato paste

  • 1 tsp. dried thyme

  • 1 sprig rosemary

  • 2 bay leaves

  • ½ cup - 1 cup white wine or dark beer

  • 1 cup peas

  • Parsley garnish

  Directions

  1. Cook bacon in a large, deep skillet on medium high heat until golden brown. Remove bacon from the pan, crumble, and set aside.

  2. Stir salt, pepper, and flour in large mixing bowl. Place lamb in the mixture. Coat meat evenly. Brown meat in frying pan with bacon fat.

  3. Remove meat from skillet and place into a large crockpo
t or stock pot.

  4. In the skillet of bacon fat, sauté garlic and yellow onion until onion becomes golden. Stir in water.

  5. Add onion and garlic mixture to the stock pot with the crumbled bacon, beef stock, and sugar. Cover and simmer for 1 ½ hours.

  6. Add onions, carrots, potatoes, herbs, and wine to pot. Reduce heat, and simmer covered for 20 minutes until vegetables are tender.

  

  Kitchen Witching Tip

  Harvest bay leaves from trees that are at least two years old. It is best to do this during midsummer when their oils are most abundant. Harvest in the morning after the dew has evaporated. Leaves can be dried or used fresh, but be aware, fresh leaves are more potent and you can use fewer.

  Bay laurel can be used to enhance magical abilities, so wear it when healing others, breaking curses, or while creating spells of protection. For scrying and prophetic dreams, create a bay dream pillow made of bay leaves and place it under your pillow.

  

  Kitchen Witching Tip

  Harvest rosemary in the spring or early summer. If you cut off sprigs this time of year, they will grow back more rapidly. Rosemary has been used to cleanse a home of negative energies and evil spirits. If someone is feeling grumpy—you know who I’m talking about—rub rosemary on the recipient’s pillow or make a rosemary wreath to hang on your door.

  Clarissa’s Irish Lamb Stew Memories

  Excerpt from Tardy Bells and Witches’ Spells

  Derrick came home with me to help me start dinner. I directed him to cut the potatoes and carrots while I defrosted the lamb from the freezer. Everyone loved Mom’s Irish lamb stew. The recipe used bacon and wine, among other ingredients. I collected herbs from the garden.

  “You don’t think cooking the potion will make it less potent, do you?” I asked Derrick as I dumped the bottle of wine/potion in a large sauce pan. The recipe only called for one cup, but I wanted to ensure Missy got enough.