Rule of Three Pt. 01

"Thou hast obeyed the law. But mark well, when thou receivest good, so equally art bound to return."

--Book of Witchcraft, Author Unknown, Year Unknown.

Angel opened the front door of The Marauder's Bookstore, and stepped out into the bright afternoon. The summer sun warmed her rich, dark skin as she made her way down the sparsely-shaded sidewalk, her waist-long braids swaying gently with her steps. She smiled when she saw a sun-lit redhead with black-rimmed glasses sitting at an iron table, sullenly stirring honey into her mug.

"Hey, smile sweetheart, you'll look prettier," Angel said faking a deep, male voice.

Tara looked up, shock, and a hint of disgust flashed across her face until she realized who the douchebag voice had come from. Thick red curls framed a pretty, freckled face. She seldom wore makeup, she barely needed it, but today she had succeeded at giving her big, sky-blue eyes a thin lining; a beautiful detail that was magnified by her thick glasses. Complete with a petite frame she had managed to maintain since high-school, and a creamy complexion smattered with freckles, Tara was like something out of a geek's wet-dream.

***

"I've given up," Tara stared down at her tea, her voice catching on the brink of tears.

"I know it's ridiculous, falling in love with someone who doesn't even seem to know who I am." She met Angel's eyes, failing to smile. "It's just a stupid crush, right?"

Her "crush" was Ben, the man she had been secretly in love with for over a year. They had had a brief romantic romp; the happiest that Angel had ever seen Tara, but nothing had come of it besides a couple of giggly recaps of their latest sexual encounter.

Angel was at a loss. She opted for a gulp of her coffee instead, then took a deep breath before she spoke.

"If he doesn't notice how incredible you are, then he doesn't deserve you. There will be other guys. Better guys. Buffer guys. I swear, Ben is so and lanky I-"

"But I don't want any other guy," Tara spoke softly, and quivered slightly as her sky-blues became fountains.

"Ever since I saw him, he's been the only one..." She stood up shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I should go. My lunch break is definitely over by now." They hugged their goodbyes

Angel hated to see her beautiful, gentle friend so hurt. She tried to muster up resentment for Tara's sake, but from as far as she could tell, he seemed as innocent as Tara. It was hard to believe he was ignoring her on purpose.

***

Angel,

You're probably at lunch. Everything on shelf 1408 needs to go. Trash would be best. Keep what you want. Needs to be done today to make room for used coming in. Thanks!

Love, Mom.

Working in a family owned bookstore meant parents as bosses; meaning they knew where to find her at any place or time during the work day. The one that they had scheduled. It sure beat the hell out of working for some crabby, old lady or sitting behind a secretary desk hundreds of feet above downtown.

At least she had something to do for the rest of the day. With a sigh she made her way over to the shelf across from the collection of new and used bodice-rippers; the erotic romances that all had covers featuring the same models in different Victorian outfits that seemed to be falling off. The shelf to be purged was labeled "Witchcraft and Wicca."

She scanned the shelf she had never actually taken the time to look at. Most of the books were flimsy and cheesy looking promising knowledge of past, present and future, while providing the realization of dreams. A select few contained interesting artwork of buxom women or bubbling cauldrons that Angel admired before dropping them in the box to be taken out with the rest.

She decided to open a large volume with a charming illustration of a happy witch straddling a broomstick and pointing her magic wand at a bewildered frog. Inside she found that the book had been hollowed out to make room for another book. She picked out the dusky red booklet, and dropped its container in the box. Leafing through the pages the word "Attraction" caught her eye. Her curiosity was piqued.

'Light a red candle and picture the desired target of the spell deeply in love. Meditate on the idea, imagining them falling in love over and over with the intended recipient. Pour the melted wax on the ground. Write the target's name three times in wax with a needle, keeping their face in the forefront of your mind. Let the wax cool, then preserve in a safe place. Works best under a full moon, on Tuesday or Friday nights.'

Looking up at the clock on the wall Angel realized that the rest of her work day had passed seamlessly. Good thing too, there were still things to do.

***

Back at home, she rummaged through her things until she found a small red candle and a sewing needle. Words were not her thing, so she thought giving Tara the wax and telling her about the spell would be a silly way to make up for her lack of friendly comfort at lunch. She wanted them both to end of together but she just didn't know how to say it right.

Angel lit the candle and closed her eyes. She imagined Ben, overcome with emotion, grabbing her tiny friend and kissing her; how happy Tara would be, her tears of joy, how she would reach up to kiss him back, giggling through her tears and their kiss. She thought about how they would fit together so well despite their height difference, holding one another in delirious happiness.

Ben would slowly undress Tara, sliding his hands up her legs, over her tight, little butt, lifting her dress off. How he would have to bend down to take one of Tara's tiny, pink nipples in his mouth, making her shake in arousal. How Ben's big hands would explore Tara's petite frame, making her bite her lip and moan. Tara would blush as Ben slipped his long fingers between her legs to caress her dripping wet pussy and—

With a short gasp, Angel's eyes popped open. Did I just picture that? What the hell?

Her cheeks burning, she hurriedly poured the melted wax on her kitchen floor. Why would I ever think of Tara like that?

Angel took a deep breath and focused on cleaner images. Tara and Ben on a dinner date. Tara and Ben holding hands. Ben getting down on one knee as he proclaimed his love.

Better. She carefully scratched Ben's name in the wax, etching a clean relief in the puddle of wax. As it solidified, she peeled it from her floor, and placed it in her windowsill.

And waited.

Is that it? I just gotta write this mutherfucker's name in some wax and think about him not being a mutherfucker? Ugh, sorry, positive, positive thoughts, um, marriage, mansions, flowers, Tara in some kind of lacey dress...what...?

She suddenly remembered that she hadn't exactly started at the beginning of the little, red spell-book. She picked it up and flipped to the front page. Inscribed very obviously by hand in a beautiful calligraphy it read;

To the practitioner of such arts as these: Ever mind the rule of three, three times your acts returned to thee. This lesson, well, thou must learn, thou receivest such that thou dost earn.

Angel jumped as her phone rang. Her redheaded friend was hysterical on the other line.

"Tara? Hello? What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?" Angel felt her heart pumping hard as her mind raced with the possibilities.

"HE PROPOSED!" Tara finally cried out. "He ran to my house and said that he couldn't hide it anymore, that he loves me too and that I'm the only woman for him-oh god, Angel, Ben asked me to marry him this weekend!"

Angel slumped to the floor, mouth open and eyes wide. She put the phone on speaker and let her hand fall next to her. She was vaguely aware of someone babbling excitedly about an engagement party she was invited to on Friday and how some guy named Ben had a bunch of cute friends and how she needed a date for the wedding and how the wedding was going to be small, just a few close friends and family...sleep didn't come for a long time that night.