Sorcery and the Single Girl Read Online Free Page A

satisfy them, then I would be permitted to join their secret circle. I could keep all the arcana in my possession—spell books, crystals, runes.
    And Neko. My familiar was part of the package. Part of the package I would lose if the Washington Coven deemed me unworthy of membership. I pictured Teresa Alison Sidney as a forbidding woman, wise, waiting—like Whistler’s Mother in modern dress. I knew that I’d have to meet her eventually, but I’d been perfectly content to put off that reckoning. Put it off until I’d learned more about my powers. Until I’d gained some confidence. Some courage.
    Melissa, not being up on the witchcraft celebrity watch, failed to register the importance of the call.
    “What did she say?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. After all, she might be calling for any number of reasons. She might…she might have realized she had a sudden need for colonial American recipes. Or she might…she might have been looking for advice on locally grown herbs and aromatics. Or she might…
    I couldn’t really think of any good thing that she might.
    “She wants to meet with you. Next Friday. At midnight.”
    Despite the summer heat, gooseflesh rose on my arms. Midnight. The witching hour. “A—” I needed to clear my throat. “Alone?”
    “She’ll have the entire Coven gathered,” Neko said helpfully.
    That did nothing to ease the sudden fear that whispered down the back of my neck. I thought of Gran’s old-fashioned expression: someone had walked across my grave. “I mean,” I managed to say after thinking out each word, “do I have to show up alone?”
    “Of course not.” Neko’s smile was sympathetic, and I could tell that he was trying to make his answer light. “I’ll be there. And David.”
    My familiar and my warder. To help me work magic and to protect me. I didn’t really feel any safer, though.
    “Is this it, then?” I folded my arms around my belly, suddenly wishing that I hadn’t downed the last couple of minty mojitos. I wanted to rock back and forth, find some comfort in acting like a rebellious toddler. “Are they going to test me?”
    “Of course they’re going to test you,” Neko scoffed. His casual dismissal converted my apprehension into annoyance. “You’ve known that all along. No, this isn’t the time for the testing itself. They’ll wait for some big important day to do that. This meeting is just to lay the groundwork. To tell you the rules.”
    I nodded. Neko’s words made sense. All except for…“Big important day? What sort of big important day?”
    “You know. One of the Witches’ Sabbaths. Imbolc. Beltane. Lughnasa. Samhain.”
    I’d read enough in my collection of witchy books that I recognized the names of the festivals. I was even able to translate Neko’s Gaelic pronunciation—“Sow-inn”—to actual spelling—“Samhain.” Halloween. But I’d never actually paid attention to the specific witching days, never worried about when they hit the “real world” calendar.
    Real world.
    This was my real world now. I was a witch.
    And I was going to be tested by my Coven, judged to see if I truly belonged as a new member. I thought about the magical runes and crystals lying in my basement, probably grown dusty, since I’d neglected them for a month or more, while I played with my still-unsuccessful water spell.
    Where did the time go? And how was I going to get ready for my first encounter with the Coven, with Teresa Alison Sidney? And what was I going to do once the Coven set an actual date for my testing?
    Melissa might not have been privy to all of my witchcraft workings. She didn’t know the feelings that grew inside me as I practiced my craft. She’d never understand the tremble of power as I worked a spell, the satisfying snick of release when my magic hit its target.
    But she knew me. She recognized my fear. “It will all be fine,” she said, topping off my glass and looking daggers at Neko, sending a sufficiently clear