The Witching Hour

Chapter 2 - Guilt

The next morning was as if the previous night had never happened. The sun shone high above Malachi Peak without a cloud in the sky. The touristy Oregon town found itself not too far from Portland but far enough away to keep the roadways clear – at least within the city limits. Freeways were another problems.

Ivy stood at the kitchen counter slowly spreading butter across her toast. She wiped the remaining particles on it before dipping the knife into Hunter's homemade jam. The warmness of the bread caused the jam to melt and slip deeper into the crevices of the toast. Ivy brought her little creation to her lips and took a bit.

"Mmmm." She closed her eyes and moaned in complete heaven.

"That good, huh?" Hunter teased walking out of the bedroom scratching the back of his head. He took at look at her plate, his eyes practically bulging at the single knife.

"Ivyyyy," He pointed at the plate. "You double dipped, didn't you?"

Ivy rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's just butter."

"You can't mix two different consistencies like that," he countered. Leaning over her shoulder, he stole a bite of her toast.

"Hey!" Ivy whined. "That's my breakfast. Make your own."

"You make such a good one, even if your method is flawed," Hunter retorted before planting a kiss on her temple.

Ivy narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend and crossed her arms across her chest. At this point, Hunter had his back to her and busied himself with putting the bread in the toaster. Smirking, she approached him slowly. Her arms wrapped around his waist. While they trailed across his abdomen, she planted soft kisses along his spine.

Hunter froze instantaneously at her touch. Ivy smiled into his back and flipped him around. His hand came up to cup the curve of her hip, giving her a slight squeeze. Her ever-lean boyfriend seemed to tower over her even if he only had a couple inches on her. Appearance wise, they were the perfect height. If she wore heals, she was still an inch or two shorter than him, but without them all she had to do was stretch out her neck so her lips could fit into his.

Ivy's fingers played with the waistband of his boxers and pressed her frame against him, a simple tank top and underwear separating them. She could feel all of him, and as she pressed her lips against his, she knew exactly what he wanted.

Sporting a smirk, the brunette snapped his boxers back against him and pulled away. She gave him a wink over her shoulder and sauntered back toward the bedroom, needing to change for the day. Ivy stopped at the doorframe and looked back at him. Hunter's mouth practically touched the floor. The toaster dinged to signal that his toast was ready, but he didn't care.

"Why you little minx," he growled suggestively and followed after her. In seconds, he stood behind her and leaned forward to continue what she had started. The flowers around them began to bloom, despite being out of season. Neither one noticed and kept their gazes locked on one another.

"Your toast is done," she said. "I better let you get back to using that perfect method of yours to prepare your breakfast."

Ivy closed the door and locked it, letting the last thing that Hunter saw be her winning smirk.

"Oh Ivy, you're so going to pay for that later," he threatened playfully. His footsteps retreated to the kitchen all the while grumbling how she got him all hot and bothered.

Ivy changed for work, slipping on a pair of dark jeans and white top. The weather was starting to cool down enough to wear jeans but not enough to bring a jacket along with her. Tying the laces of her Nikes, she opened the door to find Hunter blocking the front door.

"You're not getting out of here that easily." He beckoned her toward him.

"I'm going to be late if you don't let me past." Ivy tried to dip and dodge him with her keys in hand.

"It's your shop. You can open it whenever you want."

"Touché." Knowing what he wanted, she gave him a big kiss and opened the door with her other hand. She turned him gracefully, as she always did, and backed out the door.

"Love you baby," she said as she pulled away and closed the door behind her.

"Love you too," he shouted after her, locking it behind her.

Ivy's hand fluttered to her chest as she slung her purse across it. This morning was exactly what she needed after a night like yesterday. All the negativity seemed to disappear, and love filled its place. With each step she took, the seemingly dead hallway plants sparked to life as she passed them. Her mood gave them the energy to come back to life. However, as soon as she realized what she did – using her magic even if unknowingly – a dark shadow crossed her face.

She had closed that box a long time ago, using all her strength to avoid instances like these.

In an instant, all the energy the plants absorbed seemed to vanish as they all turned to a brittle brown, even worse than what they were before.

The guilt ate at Ivy. These weren't even her plants, and she felt responsible for what she had caused. Closing her eyes, she waved her hand in a small circle in front of her body and willed the plants back to life. Sure enough, the green rushed back, but little thorns dotted their stems. Scrunching her nose, the brunette threw her hands up in frustration and stormed down to her shop.

Yes, Ivy Rhea Vale was a witch.

And no, she was not the only one – or the only creature – that called Malachi Peak home.