The Love Spell

Michelle dabbed some of the rosewater she had been brewing for nine days – whose petals had been gathered beneath the light of the last full moon – behind her ears.  Looking in the mirror next to the kitchen door, she adjusted the rose quartz charm at her throat.  What was that fleeting look she had just seen; nerves?

She frowned.  Then, cross with herself for doing so, she stretched the skin of her forehead with her fingers, trying to smooth out the damage.  That’s better.

The timer on the stove chimed, followed a few seconds later by the oven.  Soon the table was laid – the centrepiece, a homemade apple pie.  She had read somewhere that apples were sacred to Aphrodite.  Next to the pie dish sat a tarot card: The Lovers.  Michelle reached over and picked it up.

Holding it in her hand, she thought over the lengths she had gone to get things right.  No, not right.  Perfect.  Damn, she’d even found an astrologist online to check the alignment of the stars, just to see if they would be in her favour.  This had to work.  Thoughts of him were driving her to distraction.

Not that James had any idea what she had been planning.  He thought he was coming over to complete a report for work.  If she had her way, the office would be the last thing either of them would be thinking about, she mused, grinning mischievously.

For a heartbeat, she wondered if she was doing the right thing.  If she was being fair to him.  Hearts in love, she pondered, were not really concerned with “free will” and “do no harm”.  After all, wasn’t there that saying…”the heart wants what the heart wants?”  Anyway, it was love.  There was nothing evil or dangerous in that.  It’s not like I’m planning to bury a knife in his chest…

Pushing away the remainder of her misgivings, she placed the tarot card over her heart and whispered the incantation one more time.

You’ll be mine.

You’ll be mine.

You’ll be mine.

Now all she had to do was wait…

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