Witchcraft Shop Novels & Stories

Even the flowers in the doorway were dark. Selena, obviously interested in the shop, turned around to leave the group, and I had to follow her. As soon as I walked into the shop, I felt it was even more mysterious. Its shop window showed lots of leather goods and tools. It looked like a handmade leather shop, but deep inside, a woman with dreadlocks and a witch-like dress sat with her eyes closed. There was a crystal ball in front of him, and there seemed to be mysterious purple lines flashing in it.

Jesse sniffs the air, checking to make sure no one is inside before letting me walk in. Today at the shop is even busier than the weekdays were. There are lots of humans coming and going and while Jesse is a great thief deterrent, he doesn’t know how to run the cash register. Before I know it, the day is mostly gone. It’s about an hour before closing when the witch comes in. She looks at Jesse before coming up to me. “Hey Sasha, I have your potion ready to go. It’s in the back.” She nods and follows me into the back room.

Yeah, that didn't happen. When Hugo turned one, they scrounged up enough to buy him a gold bracelet. Meanwhile, Rick was so thin it hurt to look at him. Even the tiny gold locket I gave him ended up pawned off by those two to buy pork—which they had the nerve to gift back to us. Damian hesitated when they handed it over, but I didn't miss a beat. "Honey, Caleb and Betty are just showing their gratitude. If we turn it down, they'll feel bad."

Finally, the shop assistant halted before a wall adorned with all sorts of trinkets and oddities, gleaming dully under the dim, strategically placed lights. It was a chaotic display of polished stones, intricate metalwork, and dried, twisted herbs. With a proud, sweeping wave of its hand, it gestured towards them. "These are new and unique," it intoned. "You won't find them anywhere in the widest vicinity, not even in Human Town. These come from Europe, manufactured in the original witch factory in the deepest primeval forest." The last phrase was delivered with a subtle flourish, as if meant to evoke images of ancient, mystical production.

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

“Don’t worry the doors lock from the inside so you don’t have to worry about him coming in on you, it might just take him some time to remember to lock both doors, he has never had to share it before” We spent some time getting to know each other, I found out she was a witch, one that was skilled at reading cards, not really sure what that meant, but I had time to learn. She owned a small shop in the town centre where she sold, crystals, spell books (fake ones to humans, real one to witches), jewellery, and did tarot card readings (oh that’s what she meant). Zeke had turned sixteen last month and had gotten his wolf, apparently his wolf had a short temper, I would make a note to remember tha

I have never been so excited or seen anything like it. We don't buy anything until I am pulled over to a stall in one of the far corners of the town centre. It is a witch's stall and on it is four beautiful crystal-carved wolf necklaces; the wolves are all in different positions. One is standing and howling, one is sitting and howling, one has two wolves, one laying while the other stands in a protective stance and the last one is a family.

She slid a piece of paper across the scarred wood. The shopkeeper’s gnarled fingers traced the items: Mandrake root, silver-pressed salt, and wolfsbane distillate. She looked up, her gaze sharpening. "A heavy scent-masker. Planning on walking through a den of lions, are we? What did you say your name was, dearie?"

Aurel's footsteps drew closer, his analytical hunger warring with something that looked almost like belonging. The first shop sold enchanted fabrics that shifted color with the wearer's mood, that adjusted temperature to the weather, that repaired themselves when torn. Dahlia bought seven lengths, her fingers trembling as she pressed her crystal payment chip against the reader, her eyes glowing with a joy that looked almost foreign on her carefully constructed face. "The next," she announced, already pulling me toward a display of memory crystals that pulsed with internal light. "And the next. And the next."

My hair was flying but I just let it go. We quickly got to the souvenir shops and dropped off after Wyatt paid. It's good that he has cash, do they accept cards here? We went to wood crafts and looked around, they were beautiful, but I didn't like anything. When my eyes caught the scarves in the other store I quickly pulled Wyatt away. "Wyatt, there," I pointed across as he pulled away. He didn't object and just waved at me. When we got in there my eyes lit up when I saw polyesters and silk with floral designs, paisleys, and more.