Spells Trouble by Kristin Cast (mystery books to read .txt) 📕

“Yo, Jaxie!” Kirk held up his hand for a high five. Their hands met with a loud slap that seemed to further invigorate the quarterback. “Today is going so good!”

Jax brushed his hair back and cocked his head. Hunter craned her neck, but still couldn’t hear Jax’s reply.

“Lookin’ light and feelin’ right, my man. Finally got some of Mercy’s goodies, if you know what I mean.” With a laugh, Kirk stuck out his tongue and held up his hand for another celebratory high five.

Jax crossed his arms over his chest.

“What?” Kirk rocked back on his heels and flicked his chin in the air. “You jealous? You’d be swimming in it, too, if you didn’t spend all your time with Hunter. You do know she’s never going to switch teams, right? All she is is a cockblock. Girls don’t want to see you hanging with other girls. Makes them jealous and the last thing you want is some crazy jealous chick.”

Jax ran his fingers along his temple. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“I hear it. But I don’t think you recognize that I’m spittin’ gold.” Kirk draped his arm around Jax and led him down the stairs. “Let me bum a ride to practice. I’ll probably play like garbage. My energy is shot.” Kirk unhooked himself from Jax as they neared the car. “Hey, you got a protein shake?”

The plastic Big Gulp dented under Hunter’s grip as she rolled the passenger window all the way down.

“Jesus, H!” Kirk clutched his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and offered a boyish half smile. “Been there long?”

“Long enough to know you’re famished.” She held the blue slushie out the window. “Here.” It lapped against the sides of the cup as she shook it. “Have some of this.” A grin stretched her lips as he walked closer, his nervousness melting back into arrogance. He underestimated the twins. He underestimated Hunter.

“Thanks. If you knew what I’d just—” he began as Jax came around the front of the car.

Blue liquid splattered against Kirk’s pristine white shoes.

“What the hell, Hunter? My trainers!” Kirk lifted one foot and then the other until the large clumps of slush had splatted onto the ground.

Hunter slid out of the car and stared down at Kirk’s trainers. “Oops.” She hiked her shoulders and tipped her smile into a frown. “Slipped. My bad.” She dropped the cup in the driveway next to Kirk’s blue-stained shoes, waved to Jax, and skipped up the stairs.

Hunter would not feel bad about what she’d done to Kirk. He’d deserved it, hadn’t he? She chewed the inside of her cheek and sagged against the heavy front door. She didn’t have excess power to blame this time. That had all been her. And, if she was being honest, she’d wanted to do worse. Hunter squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn’t feel guilty. She wouldn’t. Kirk embodied everything wrong with guys. Of course Mercy didn’t see Kirk for what he was, having never had to deal with a bully herself. Yes, he’d totally deserved what Hunter had just done after saying all those things about her and boasting about “Mercy’s goodies.”

Mercy.

Hunter’s eyelids flew open and she rushed through the living room and into the kitchen. Mercy sat at the breakfast nook on the cushy bench she and their mother had reupholstered in a swirling sixties-style lime green patterned velvet. Stacks of grimoires littered the table, pink sticky notes sprouting from the pages like petals.

Hunter set the bottle of insecticide on the counter and leaned against the kitchen island, feigning nonchalance, although she couldn’t keep from picking at the jagged points of her nails. “You okay?” The casualness she’d stapled to her tone came out brassy and flat. Hunter clenched her teeth. The last thing she wanted to do was push her sister back over the edge and watch her fall into another vast, unending ocean of grief. She wasn’t sure if she could do the spell again. She wasn’t sure if she should.

Mercy cupped her steaming coffee mug with both hands and lifted it to her lips. “Yep. I’m good.” Her gaze never quite settled on Hunter as Mercy took a sip and set her mug back down on the table.

Hunter’s stomach hardened. “Are you sure? You seem—”

“Excited?” Mercy stared right at her this time, her moss-colored eyes challenging and forceful.

Guilty. Hunter’s swallow was thick, a stone sliding through her chest and thudding into the hollow of her stomach.

“Hey, come here.” Mercy patted the empty space at the head of the table and took another drink.

Hunter’s footsteps were silent. She wouldn’t ask for the truth and her sister wouldn’t offer. Mercy had won, and they both knew it.

“I’ve figured out the spell we need to fix the trees.” Mercy plucked a weathered grimoire from one of the stacks, shoved another pile to the side, and placed the manual of magic between them on the table. “The whole drought and flood cherry tree business gave me an idea.” She drummed her fingers against the cracked cover and continued, “We need to mix together two health-boosting spells and add a little of our own magic for protection.”

Hunter’s face heated as she eyed the spray bottle. Mercy had done real research, magical research. All Hunter had done was google kill tree worms. She hid her hands under the table and resumed picking at her nails. But it could be as simple as applying the unpronounceable insecticide to the trees. Things didn’t always have to be super complicated, and just because they were witches didn’t mean they had to use magic to solve their problems. Magic couldn’t fix everything. Abigail Goode was still gone.

Mercy opened the book to one of the marked pages and ran her fingers over the old, loopy cursive. “It says here that Janet Goode cut a stang and used it to channel healing energy into the trees when they were damaged by drought.”

“Stang?” Hunter leaned forward and studied