How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) by Willow Mason (great novels txt) 📕

“Sorry to get personal but could a cat even put those things together into a potion? It seems more of an opposable thumbs type of situation.”

<We’re not without magic, you know. If I wanted to concoct some dastardly liquid to cast a horrible spell, I could get it done.>

I opened my eyes wide in the darkness, seeking reassurance. “But you wouldn’t, right?”

<Oh, I wouldn’t. But there’s plenty of cast-offs who would.>

Guilt hit me in a rush, taking my mind off Paisley entirely. “I’m so sorry you were left alone for so many years.”

<Since it wasn’t your fault, I’ve forgiven you.> The panther twisted on the bed, contorting into an impossible position that took up another foot of space. <Plenty wouldn’t.>

“How many familiars are…?” I struggled to find a word that didn’t sound offensive.

<There are thirty or so cast-offs who have found a permanent home in the woods.>

“And you don’t mind that term?”

<It’s what we call ourselves.> I saw the glint of Annalisa’s teeth. <But I wouldn’t recommend bandying it about if you’re visiting.>

Genevieve had mentioned the familiars setting up their nests in the forest, right from the day after my arrival back in town. I hadn’t given it much thought until now, even after Paisley joined our ranks.

<It’s hard to care about a familiar when their bonded witches can’t even stomach having them near, any longer.>

I rubbed her head, stroking the soft fur between her ears until it stood on end with friction. “I know why you were there, and Paisley, but what about the others?”

<Deaths hit hard. Witches are meant to make arrangements but it’s like putting together a will. Everyone thinks they’ll live forever until the day they don’t.>

“Are a lot of the familiars older, then?”

<Some are. Some had their witches taken from them too young.> Annalisa tilted her head to one side, yawning until her mouth looked like a bottomless chasm. <Your mother and father’s familiars, for instance.>

I froze in place, blood whooshing through my ears so loudly I couldn’t hear another sound.

My memory, still recovering from the shock of returning home and discovering I’d forgotten half my childhood, set up a frantic search.

<It’s okay to forget. They weren’t your responsibility.>

“Meep,” I said, the feel of the word so strange I thought it couldn’t possibly be correct until Annalisa nodded. “He was Dad’s puppy.”

<Puppy!> The panther snorted with delight, rubbing a paw over her face and blinking. <I must tell him that one. He’ll love it.>

“I don’t recall Mum having a familiar.”

<Archie.>

The name triggered a rush of images. The small lizard who once resided inside my mother’s arm tattoo had delighted me as a child. He’d been naughtier than me—concocting devious schemes then changing colour to meld with the background while everyone ran in circles trying to figure them out.

My fingers traced a pattern on my upper arm; an echo of the inked crest that my mother had once sported. I couldn’t remember seeing it after our abrupt move north. Had she removed it? Wiping out her history from her skin and her thoughts.

“I’d love to see them again. Would they let me visit?”

<Nothing is stopping you from finding out.> Annalisa draped a large paw over my shoulder, claiming another inch of mattress space. <It’s not like any of us have better things to do.>

A light doze carried me through to morning and I struggled out of bed the moment a ray of sunlight crawled over the windowsill. Three cups of coffee later, my body announced it had found the magic ingredient and was now ready to get a full eight hours’ sleep.

Pru’s perky face surprised me. She bustled into the room, full of purpose. Even Patrick couldn’t keep up with her chatter as she made us all a stack of pancakes to share, instantly bonding her to Wendy for life.

I studied Paisley, now fully claimed by the young girl. The aloof attitude had disappeared in a new wave of devotion. She preened as Wendy doted on her—the sound of her purr louder even than Annalisa when she got her first taste of maple syrup.

“I didn’t even know we had these in the house,” I said, digging into my third helping. I needed energy from somewhere and they helped to fill the gap.

“You didn’t.” Pru scanned the table and finally turned the element off, sitting down to eat a well-deserved helping. “I popped out to the service station during the night and stocked up. They’ve got a surprisingly good range.”

I patted my full belly and used the edge of my fork to cut my last pancake into smaller bites. “Weird, I didn’t hear you. I was up for most of the night.”

“Do you always start your mornings like this?” Wendy asked, feeding a bite of syrup-drenched pancake to Paisley. “Because if so, I’d like to stay.”

“Didn’t you want to stay, otherwise?” Patrick asked with a smile.

She shook her head, taking us by surprise. “No. The whole place has the wrong creaks. I don’t know which floorboards to avoid and the closets don’t have any secret rooms stashed in the backs of them.”

Gareth’s face took on its usual pinch of concern. “Does Kelburn Manor have secret rooms?”

“Oh, Dad.” Wendy giggled and slapped his hand. “Of course, not.” She winked at Paisley and the cat shivered with joy, reaching for another bite.

Patrick’s phone rang and he excused himself from the room, returning two minutes later. “That was Sergeant Grosvenor, saying that Solomon turned himself into the station. He insisted he ring us so we wouldn’t bother him by checking in.”

Pru paused mid-chew. “Good. Did he mention what charges they’ll bring against him?”

“No word on that. I doubt the sergeant could tell us, even if he knew.”

We set out for Pru’s house a few minutes later. Jared met us at the door and given his dishevelled state, had experienced a night about as restful as mine.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, squeezing his hand after unlocking the front door. “Even if Andrew can’t be physically restrained,