Conjuring Affection

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  More from the Coven of the North Star

  Bewitching Desire Sneak Peek

  About the Author

  Conjuring Attraction

  Coven of the North Star Series

  Elizabeth Davis

  Copyright © 2016 Elizabeth Davis

  All rights reserved.

  ASIN:B01MQ43JJQ

  Cover Artist: Abbey Kleinert

  For everyone who believed I could do this.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Alison’s phone chimed with a text message just as the Minneapolis skyline rose into view, but between the giant U-Haul she was driving and the breakneck speed she’d reached, she didn’t dare risk checking it. It was probably just Linnea, wondering why she was late.

  It wasn’t Alison’s fault that her best friend-slash-college-roommate was habitually punctual and didn’t understand that sometimes, people got off track, perhaps because they stayed up a little too late watching Dateline reruns at a Holiday Inn in Bumfuck Nowhere, South Dakota and as a result got a late start that morning. But Alison reasoned that since she was driving cross-country on her own, she deserved a little leeway.

  That did put her half an hour behind schedule for her long-awaited Minneapolis arrival, however. She gripped the steering wheel and switched lanes, ready for the free-for-all that was the downtown interchange at a little after 5pm on a Wednesday evening in June. She managed it with only two heart-stopping moments and one almost-fender-bender before she swung up into the heart of downtown, through the valleys between the skyscrapers, and then back out into the newly developed North Loop neighborhood. When she left Minnesota five years ago it was just starting to switch over from an unsettling mixture of strip clubs and warehouses to condos, but now it was the place to be.

  Or so Linnea had told her. Really, having Linnea as a best friend was useful, especially when she put her mind to running your life. All Alison had to do was send Linnea what she could afford and within two weeks, Linnea had sent along photos of four different apartments in various hip neighborhoods. Alison picked one and then Linnea handled everything else, down to picking up her key that morning just in case Alison missed the office’s 5pm cut off.

  Two more left hand turns down one-way streets and Alison was pulling into the courtyard parking lot of her complex, brand new condos that boasted a rooftop patio with a view of downtown. It was pricey by Twin Cities’ standards, but compared to Portland it was a downright steal. Plus, there was way less of a chance that her neighbor would be a middle-aged hippie named Rainbow who reeked of weed and had somewhere between five and eight cats that roamed far too freely considering the official building policy on pets. Alison had no problem with either weed or cats, she just preferred both in moderation.

  Alison shifted into park and hopped out, a familiar prickle running down her back. “Oh thank you,” she whispered to the spirit lingering nearby and conjured up a tiny bubble of cooler air. Her powers weren’t strong enough to see the ghosts, but she could sense them when they were near and that was usually enough for her to be able to conjure up a little bit of cooler air. One thing she would miss about Portland was the distinct lack of Midwestern summers, but Linnea’s presence would more than make up for that. Alison had liked her friends in Portland, but she missed the easy camaraderie that she had with Linnea, the way they understood each other so well.

  Of course, that probably had to do with the fact that Linnea was also a witch, but their connection went deeper than that.

  She scanned the parking lot for Linnea’s willowy blonde form, but all she saw was a tall, leanly muscled man with shaggy dark hair resting his hip against a boxy maroon van with an elaborate painting of a wolf howling at a full moon on the side. She stifled a snort and reached back into the truck to fish her phone out of the console just as the man broke away from his car and headed towards her.

  “Alison?” he called.

  She drew back in confusion. He looked vaguely familiar as he loped across the parking lot, but she had no idea why. She was pretty sure she’d remember a jawline like that. “Sorry, do I know you?” she asked and swiped her phone open to check Linnea’s message.

  “I’m Erik. Linnea’s brother? She said she told you I’d be here.” Now that he mentioned it she could see the resemblance. Erik Peterson was the black sheep of the Peterson clan. Literally and figuratively, since almost everyone else in their immediate and extended family had Linnea’s blonde hair and insatiable drive for success. Three years younger than Linn, Erik worked in a garage and had his father’s black hair, but the light blue eyes were unmistakably Peterson and he definitely had the Peterson height going for him. She’d only met him once, at graduation, but she and Linnea had been so hungover she didn’t remember a whole hell of a lot from that day. Alison glanced at Linnea’s message.

  Linnea Peterson

  4:50pm

  Sorry, this meeting is dragging on forever and there’s no way I can make it over to you in time. But my brother lives up in Northeast and he’s done with work, so he’s going to swing by my office and get the keys and meet you there. I’ll be over when I can.

  “Got it,” she said, waggling her phone in the air. “I hear you have my keys?”

  He grinned shyly, totally at odds with his worn black shirt and tattoos trailing down his arms. He handed her keys over and Alison felt little tiny sparks as his fingers brushed her palm.

  No. Alison Conner, you are not allowed to find Linnea’s little brother attractive. Not at all. Stop it this instant.

  “How about you go open the door and I’ll get started unloading?” Erik prompted, jerking her back to reality where her best friend’s little brother was certainly not the most attractive man she’d seen in years. Definitely not.

  “Uh, yeah—here, let me help you with the back,” she mumbled. She unlocked the back of the U-Haul and then fumbled with her keys at the front door. The quiet, air conditioned elevator was a relief after the intermittent air conditioning of the U-Haul, and Alison always felt slightly guilty when she used a nearby ghost for a quick blast of cool air so she tried to use her powers sparingly. Linnea always assured her that it didn’t drain the spirits, or even affect them in any way, but it still gave Alison a tiny prick of guilt every time.

  Her apartment had the distinct smell of new-and-clean, the stainless steel appliances glinting the late-afternoon sun. She had a small deck just off the living room, and the bedroom was tucked in the back. Thick, beige carpet covered the bedroom and light, polished wood floors covered the rest. Alison paused and took in her surroundings, pleased, and then remembered Erik down on the broiling asphalt. She kicked the air up a few notches and then darted back to the elevator with her phone in her left hand.

  Alison Conner

  5:23pm

  I’m here! Thanks for sending reinforcements.

  Her phone chimed before the elevator finished descending.

  Linnea Peterson

  5:23pm

  No prob. Meeting is almost done and then I’ll be over. You’ll only have to put up with him until 6. And if he doesn’t talk, ask about local bands. But be warned that then he might not shut up.

  Alison smiled to herself and opened the door for Erik who already had three boxes perched precariously in his arms. “Four-oh-seven,” she told him and he jerked his head in acknowledgement.

  They synchronized on her third trip from the U-Haul and his fourth, standing awkwardly next to one another as the elevator hummed upward. “Linn says you live up in Northeast?” she ventured.

  “Yup.”

  “Roommates?’

  “Just one.”

  “Any reason Benjamin couldn’t make it?” Alison asked. After all, “move in your best friend” seemed more like a boyfriend task than a brotherly one. To be fair, in the few times she had met him, Alison had never really warmed to Benjamin. She tried, but they just didn’t have anything other than Linn in common. But still. This seemed especially shitty, even for him.

  “Not his thing,” Erik replied simply.

  This is what she meant by not talking, Alison thought. Honestly, she didn’t know very much about Erik, considering he was her best friend’s brother. He didn’t go to college and Linn always said he was the shy one of the two of them, but that was about it. (Then again, Linnea’s definition of shy usually meant “not as outgoing as a Clinton running for office,” so Alison wasn’t totally sure that was an accurate assessment.) He worked in a garage and apparently liked local music, and that was the full sum of Alison’s Erik-knowledge. Also he’s crazy-hot, a traitorous voice in her head whispered, but she ignored that. “Linnea says you work in a garage?”

  Erik grunted non-committally. The elevator doors opened on Alison’s floor and at least now they had the excuse of having to maneuver open the door to avoid conversation. A painfully quiet elevator ride followed, but on their next trip Erik nodded towards the guitar case in her left hand.

  “You play?” he asked.

  Alison shifted the box of books to a better spot on her hip. “A little, yeah.” She did
n’t have any formal training, mostly just playing by ear, but she liked it. “Do you play?”

  Erik nodded, and silence fell again. Then he cleared his throat. “What kind is that?”

  “Oh, it’s a Takamine. Bought it when I first moved out to Portland.” Moving there had been a scary proposition—she had no friends or family out there, just a job with a nonprofit that worked with disadvantaged kids—and she’d bought the guitar in a fit of loneliness to give herself something to do. Erik nodded again and gave her a shy smile that made her blush furiously, so she looked away until her body was under control.

  She wondered if living in the Cities meant seeing more of him. On the one hand, he was Linnea’s brother and Alison knew that they tended to fight a lot. But then again, despite their differences, the Petersons could be kind of clannish. On the other, he didn’t seem to have Linnea’s easy way with strangers. And on a third, completely unimportant hand, Alison really couldn’t afford to develop a crush on Linnea’s brother.

  Like she really, really couldn’t. Linn would not handle it well. Not at all.

  Alison took her time with her next set of boxes (pots and pans, mostly) to let Erik go ahead of her out the door and spare herself another elevator ride where she tried not to ogle the way his arm muscles bulged. She passed him on her way out of the building and was digging in the truck for a box she could handle easily when a familiar voice started shouting.

  “Alison Marie Conner! Get your ass over here!” Linnea screeched and Alison whirled to meet her friend in a tackle-hug. Linnea’s straight blonde hair swirled in the breeze that kicked up and Alison buried her face in Linn’s shoulder.

  “Christ, I’ve missed you,” Alison muttered against the tears welling in her eyes.

  “Tsk tsk, language,” Linnea scolded, in an eerie imitation of her mother.

  “Why Barb, it’s so good to see you,” Alison teased and pulled back to let sudden burst of cool wind dry the sweat on the back of her neck. “You doing that?” she asked.

  “’Course I am,” Linn replied. “Now where’s my brother? He pulling his weight?”

  Alison hummed in response, because you never mentioned your brother looks like a model was probably not the appropriate thing to say. Just then Erik emerged from the door and joined them near the U-Haul. “Nice of you to join us,” he grumbled. “Al and I here have been doing all the work you promised to do.”

  “Al? Since when does anyone call her Al?” Linnea hissed. “Go make yourself useful and move that table I see.” Erik rolled his eyes good naturedly and hefted Alison’s kitchen table with ease. Jesus. That took two of us back in Portland.

  She waited until he was safely away. “So you going to keep that breeze up for us?” she asked Linnea, who was now rummaging through Alison’s things, heedless of the dirt getting onto her spotless and wrinkle-free blouse.

  “I can be a wind machine or I can haul your shit. Your choice,” she groused as she pulled out a hastily packed bag of hangers and god knows what else.

  “Haul my shit,” Alison agreed, grabbing a duffle bag and following Linn to the door Erik had thoughtfully propped open on his second trip inside. “How’s Benjamin?” That was another thing that always made Alison roll her eyes—Linnea’s boyfriend insisted on being called Benjamin and would straight out refuse to answer to anything else. Alison tried to relate since she sort of cringed whenever someone called her Allie (Al, though, was fine. Especially when Erik said it, but again, not relevant because not happening) but to straight out pretend you didn’t hear someone—like Benjamin would—when they used a common variant of your name was just plan obnoxious.

  Okay, so maybe she was rooting for Linn to dump the bastard, but she was doing her best to not hate him.

  Linn shrugged awkwardly. “He’s fine. End of the year insanity and all that. He got mobbed by ten crying kindergarteners this afternoon. One of the moms took a picture and he sent it to me. He says hi.” Alison managed to hide her eye roll and nodded in response. Benjamin never said hi to her, or to any of Linnea’s friends. He felt they were all insufficiently dedicated to saving the planet or something.

  Linnea managed to press the button for the fourth floor with her elbow and the doors slid closed. “By the way, there’s a coven meeting on Tuesday. You should come.”

  “What’s it like?” Alison had been a little burned by her coven in Portland, since they were more into honoring mother earth and giving thanks for our gifts than actually using their powers. Her own mother was completely uninterested her powers, much less joining a coven, and as a result Alison felt like a freak until college when she found Linnea.

  Linnea, of course, was a first-class witch. She was first class at everything except playing the piano, and she wasn’t even bad at that. She just wasn’t as good as she thought she was. Linnea’s mother was an equally powerful witch, and since she discovered Alison was a witch Linnea had been bugging Alison to join a coven of some sort. Even if you do nothing but gossip, it’s nice to be around others like you, she’d said over and over again.

  “I mean, it can be a little boring, but Karen and Lynne are locked in a death battle over whose bars are better, so the desserts are good. Mostly we just sort of sit around and chat, but if anyone has any questions or wants to try a potion or something, it’s a good place to do that.” Potions only worked for Earth witches, not Ice and Spirit Hybrids, so Alison didn’t know much about them, but it would be interesting to see.

  “Anyone like me?” Her powers were mostly useless, all things considered, and there wasn’t really anything she could do to strengthen them. But it would be nice to feel a little less like a freak.

  Linnea furrowed her brow in thought. “I don’t think we have any others exactly like you, but we’ve got a couple of other hybrids. Mostly women my mom’s age, but they’re around and probably a good resource.” Of course, Linnea was technically a hybrid too, but she wasn’t bound by one power relying on another like Alison. She was the rare hybrid witch who could use her powers separately. Which naturally meant she was better at being a witch than almost anyone else, too.

  “I’ll think about it,” Alison said as they shouldered the door open into her new place. “By the way, good call on this one. The view is great.”

  “You haven’t even seen the rooftop—it’s beautiful,” Linnea added. “And I’m going to steal some of your clothes so I don’t wreck my work ones, kay?”

  “Kay,” Alison replied absently, because Erik was bending over something. Goddamn. That’s a nice ass. “Wait, how are you going to wear my clothes? Did you forget you’re half a foot taller than me?”

  “That’s what shorts are for, honey.”

  Alison managed to not get caught drooling over Erik the rest of the evening. Hauling heavy boxes and furniture wore her out, and Linnea’s presence kept most of her baser instincts in check. She ordered pizza as a thank you when they were finished and they sat on whatever furniture was available to eat. Erik talked a little more when Linnea was around, but like Alison he was clearly used to letting Linnea take the reins.

  Really, it was just easier. When Linnea talked, everyone listened. She was magnetic like that. “So the job starts Monday, right?” Linnea asked, dishing the pizza out onto paper plates she’d scrounged up from somewhere. She raised her eyebrows at Alison, who closed her eyes quickly and reached out. Nope. No ghosts.

  She shook her head imperceptibly and Linn nodded, tapping each crust discretely. Witch perks, they called it, and between the two of them few of their friends had burned their tongues on pizza since freshman year of college.

  “Monday,” Alison confirmed. “And I want to figure out the busses and light rail, until I get a car.” She didn’t have a car out in Portland, preferring to bike instead, but Midwestern winters made that an unappealing option.

  “Where you working?” Erik asked, speaking for maybe the first time since they decided on pizza toppings.

  “Reaching Higher. They do a lot of work with economically disadvantaged girls—getting them and their families in touch with resources, that sort of thing. I’ll be handling their fundraising and some budget things.”