by Sarina Dorie
He scribbled another note on someone’s nearly illegible paper. “There’s nothing you can do or say to bribe me into giving you that book back.”
“That isn’t why I’m here. I’ve moved past that.” I held my head high, prepared for the lengthy battle ahead. “Would you please escort me to the art supply store? Jeb said I can only leave school grounds if I’m with a powerful Witchkin, and Josie isn’t strong enough.”
“Why? You don’t have a budget for supplies. What could you possibly afford? One tube of paint?”
“There’s a place in Eugene I can get free stuff. And what I can’t get for free, I’m willing to pay for out of my own money.”
“No.” He waved me away dismissively. “Ask Vega.”
He flinched and pushed the cat onto the floor. The feline slowly sauntered toward the birdcage.
I’d already asked Vega for enough favors for one month. “Come on, Thatch! I need this. I don’t have any supplies left.”
“That’s Mr. Thatch to you.”
“‘Help me, Obi-wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.’”
He drummed his fingers on his desk, at last looking into my face as if deciding. “I’ll make a bargain with you. If you do something for me, I’ll do something for you.”
I’d be making a deal with the devil. “What’s your price?” I really hoped it wasn’t my immortal soul. Or two hundred dollars like Vega had charged me in exchange for a broken room and a way out of being blackmailed by a student. Hundreds of dollars was a lot when I had student loans to pay off.
“You will help me with an errand collecting alchemy supplies. If you don’t complain and aren’t too annoying, I’ll chaperone you to the Morty Realm to help you forage for your classroom supplies.”
“Yes!” This wasn’t going to be so bad. Then again, his offer did have an easy loophole for him to get out of chaperoning me. “Define ‘too annoying?’”
“Right now, you’re being annoying. If you do anything thoughtless, careless, or immature, it will be too annoying.”
That described me ninety percent of the time.
“So when can we go?” I didn’t want to push my luck, but I needed those supplies ASAP. The curriculum I planned might change depending on what I found at MECCA.
“We can collect specimens in the forest on Thursday during the full moon.”
“At night?” I asked.
“We won’t be out too late. Not past midnight, I expect.”
Just what I wanted, to be alone in a dark forest with Thatch. Okay, actually, part of me did. I didn’t know if I was more scared for myself or him.
On Thursday, I decided I was definitely more scared for myself.
“Why are you tying me to a tree?” I asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re bait.” Thatch didn’t tie the rope around my waist very tight, but I didn’t think I was going to be able to get away if a wild animal or feral Fae appeared. I had a bad feeling about this.
The full moon shone through the gaps in the trees, painting the forest in cobalt light. The leaves twirled in the wind, flickering silver and then black, reminding me of the school colors. Thatch had made me wear all white, but the only white dress I had was someone’s nightgown Julian had accidentally magicked onto me. It was too big, and it dragged on the ground. I wished I’d burned it after Julian had died, but I’d found it folded in one of my drawers, waiting like a ghost to remind me of him.
I’d borrowed one of Vega’s belts to fasten around my waist to make the dress fit better. Thatch had complained about my zebra-striped jacket when he’d seen I intended to wear it over the white nightgown because it didn’t match the all-white color scheme, but it was too cold to go without a jacket.
“Unless you plan on playing fairy godmother with my wardrobe, this is what I’ve got,” I’d told him.
He’d made me borrow a cape from Josie. It was red and made me feel like Little Red Riding Hood, accompanying the Big Bad Wolf on the eve of a full moon. Tying me to a tree and using me as bait wasn’t any more reassuring.
“When you said you wanted me to help you collect specimen, I thought you meant toadstools and evening primroses,” I said. “Using me to lure a unicorn doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
He stepped out of sight behind the tree, tying a knot in the rope. “Do you want those art supplies or not?”
“Those tubs of colored pencils and crayons aren’t going to help me if I’m dead.”
His feet crunched out from behind the tree. “I won’t allow any creature to kill you.” He patted the top of my head in his patronizing way, as if I were a child.
He crouched in front of his satchel and unrolled a kit of empty corked vials. He pointed to each one. “This is for short hair. This one is for long hair. There are two different kinds of brushes in the bag. We have a small vial for tears, this one for blood, and the largest for other body fluids.”
“Body fluids?” I made a face. “It’s not like I’m going to lure a unicorn and ask him to urinate into a bottle for you.” That was icky.
“Remember, every part of the unicorn is useful and contains powerful magic. Every part.” He held up a paper bag. “For excrement.”
I tried not to laugh.
A wolf howled in the distance. Thatch looked up. “Bloody hell, we’d better hope the werewolves don’t find you before the unicorns do.”
“No way,” I said. I stared up at the white disk of moon. “Why did you have to do this tonight?”
“If you successfully draw in a unicorn, ask him if you can have his horn when he dies. It’s illegal to poach unicorns, but sometimes they form special bonds with Witchkins and donate their bodies in the name of magic. Though, I think if the Witchkin Council knew of the unicorn problem in the forest around Womby’s, they might turn a blind eye to poaching.”
“We don’t have a unicorn problem,” I said. The unicorns were nice.
He rolled up the leather kit of vials and stuffed them back into the bag. “Also, there are two apples and a small pouch of sugar cubes. Use the latter sparingly. There’s nothing worse than a unicorn with a sugar high.” He handed me an apple.
Tied to a tree, I didn’t know what to do with it. I shoved it into one of the deep pockets of the cape. I tied the pouch of sugar cubes to the belt of the dress and crammed a curry comb into another pocket.
The wolf howled again, this time closer.
“I’m going to collect toadstools and wolfsbane as we wait for the herd to arrive.” Thatch started off toward the bushes.
“Wait, you aren’t going to leave me like this, are you? What if something scary comes?”
“You’ll probably scream, and it will scare most beasts off. Just remember, they’re more scared of you than you are of them.”
He kept on walking.
I shouted after him. “No, come back. Promise me you won’t go far.”
He called over his shoulder. “You can’t expect to draw a unicorn to you with me here. They’ll only come for the pure of heart. Virgins and such. One will come if he believes you’re in danger. That means you need to actually be in danger.”
The foliage rustled as he sauntered away. Felix Thatch was as much of a big jerk as he ever had been. He probably didn’t even intend to take me to get art supplies. He would come up with some reason my distress at being left alone at night in the forest with werewolves was “too annoying.”
Wind rustled the leaves in the branches overhead. An owl hooted nearby. The creaking of branches and popping of twigs died away. An eerie silence fell over the forest. A soft snuffle came from close by. Golden light reflected off the trees in front of me before fading away. I tried to peek around the tree I was tied to, but it was too wide. Maybe it was a unicorn.
“Hello,” I called. “I’m in danger. I could use a unicorn.”
“Shh,” someone said. Probably Thatch.
I hoped it was Thatch. I thought about Julian’s ghost. The last time I’d gone this deep in the forest had been with Julian. Maybe
his spirit was here, haunting the woods. I pushed that thought from my mind. I was not going to think about him.
Twigs crackled under thudding footsteps behind the tree. Flames shot out from behind the trunk, their trajectory close enough to singe some of my hair. Leaves smoldered on the forest floor to my right.
I held my breath, not trusting myself not to whimper in fright.
A dark shadow trod forward. Only when flames erupted from its mouth did I get a good look at it. The body and mane reminded me of a lion, the head might have been a goat’s, and the tale whipping this way and that was made of a snake. It looked like some kind of chimera. I’d seen a chimera before, but that one had been under the sea. The creature passed my tree, the goat head twitching one direction and then the other. The snake eyes on the tail burned as brightly as coals in the darkness.
My heart galloped like a stampede of hooves. The chimera passed. It used its fiery breath to light the way, traveling farther away. More rustles came from behind me, other forest creatures coming out of hiding, I assumed. I sighed in relief.
Out of the shadows, flames erupted from the left and right and up ahead. As the fire exited the chimeras’ mouths, I realized there were a dozen of them. A pack, circling me, coming closer.
That’s when I screamed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Here There Be Unicorns
“Help! Thatch! There are monsters,” I screamed.
He didn’t come.
I screamed again, hoping to scare off the chimeras, but I was far more scared of them than they were scared of me.
“Please! Unicorns! I need you.”
The unicorns didn’t come.
Fire erupted from one of the chimeras’ mouths, painting the forest in a flash of orange and gold. The light revealed the beast’s close proximity to me.
Thatch obviously wasn’t coming to help me. Unicorns weren’t coming. I wiggled my arms out from under the ropes and raised my palms. I reached down into the red ball of energy fluttering inside me. Randomly, I grabbed at the first spell I could command. In my panic, I said the word to the Amni Plandai cleaning spell Josie had taught me but used the hand gesture for the Elementia fire spell I’d used in Jackie Frost’s class.
Hot lather with a lemony fragrance burst out of my hands, hitting the nearest chimera. It leapt back, rolling onto the ground. It bowled into other chimeras, toppling them as it clawed at the yellow foam covering its face.
More fire erupted from his mouth. He burned one of the other chimeras. This one dodged out of the way and shot flames at the one covered in lemony tar. The beasts snapped and bleated at each other. I pushed the rope down my hips, wiggled out, and ran while they were distracted.
I ran blindly, moonlight punctuating patches through the naked boughs above me. I ran into some brambles, forced my way through, and tumbled down a rocky incline. Something jerked hard on my foot. I thought one of the chimeras had me, but it didn’t feel like something was biting my foot off. I groped in the darkness, finding the rope still attached to my ankle.
“Clarissa,” someone whispered my name.
The voice might have been male. It was hard to tell from the whisper. I didn’t think it was Thatch. Maybe it was someone from the Raven Court.
A burst of light erupted behind me. I twisted in time to see one of the chimeras leap through the air, goat horns aimed straight for me.
I ducked down and raised my hands over my head, trying to push my magic out as lightning, not caring if I burned myself in the process. I didn’t have time to think of sexy thoughts or use friction to charge my electrons or however my magic worked. I simply reacted. A burst of light shot out of me in a brilliant arc, striking the chimera dead. It fell to the ground. I heard it tumble downhill until it struck a tree.
My hands throbbed, and I was exhausted. I sank back into a comfortable fern.
Wind rustled the branches of the trees, the scraping of bark sounding like whispering. One of the animals bleated to my left. Another rustle came from nearby. Fiery breath flared up, painting the circle of chimeras closing in around me in orange light. I held up my hands, but my arms were heavy. I tried to reach into the well of magic inside me, but I couldn’t find the strength to draw anything out.
The golden light of a small fire was painted across one of the beasts as it launched itself toward me. I covered my head and hunkered down, waiting to be torn apart. But the pain didn’t come. I looked up to find the chimera flying backward in the air. It slammed hard into a tree, rolled, and staggered back.
A spell shot out from behind me, the fragrance of herbs wafting toward me as the violet light streaked past and collided into another chimera. This wasn’t unicorn magic. It smelled like Witchkin spells. I thought I heard an incantation, the voice low and male as more spells struck the animals. Was that Thatch? He’d come for me! He hadn’t left me.
Relief washed over me like a current of calm. I knew everything would be all right now that he was here.
Light flared behind me and streaked past, circling a tree in a wide arc and illuminating the remaining creatures as they backed up and thrashed through the brush.
Clouds drifted over the moon, casting the forest in deeper shadows.
“Thatch?” I asked.
He didn’t answer. Maybe he was afraid talking would scare away the unicorns.
“What were those things?” I whispered. “Did you know they were going to come?”
“Shh.” A hand grabbed my elbow and hauled me to my feet.
I tried to step forward but forgot about the rope caught around my ankle. I tripped, crying out. My arms pinwheeled, instinctively lashing out to grab hold of something. I collided into something halfway down, realizing it actually was someone.
He grunted. I clung to his jacket and tried to right myself, but my foot was twisted and pulled tight by the rope. The awkward angle wouldn’t allow me to stand on it.
“The rope is caught around my ankle,” I said.
He held on to my waist as I clung to him and tried to hop backward. It was an uncoordinated effort, and I was glad for the darkness to hide my graceless attempt at standing. I placed a hand on his shoulder, relieved to find it at the height I expected it to be. Few people were as tall as Thatch.
I regained my breath as I held on to him. He leaned over, attempting to untangle my foot from the rope. He unlaced my hiking boot and wiggled my foot out of it. My sock liberated itself in the process.
The warmth of his hand on the cold flesh of my ankle felt familiar and unexpectedly intimate. He uncoiled the rope from my ankle, and I lifted my foot onto his knee while I held his shoulder so I didn’t lose my balance. His fingers lingered on the naked skin of my foot as he slipped my foot back inside my sock. For a moment I felt like Cinderella, only this was no ball. Whether he was Prince Charming or not, I was still undecided. I’d always imagined Derrick was my prince.
He attempted to slide my shoe over my foot, only partially succeeding. I wiggled my foot in the rest of the way.
He straightened, and I leaned against him, my heart gradually returning to a normal rhythm. He didn’t say anything. I listened to the crunch of leaves somewhere nearby and held my breath in the hope it wasn’t another chimera. I didn’t realize how close we stood until he drew in a deep breath and his chest expanded against my cheek. His arm circled protectively around me. Another rustle came. My heart started thundering in my ears again. I rested my face against his chest and held him. His fingers tangled through my hair.
This reminded me of that time I’d been in the wardrobe with him, the night I’d been chasing the students in the school. I hadn’t seen him in the darkness. I’d thought he was Julian. I should have taken his height into account, where his shoulders would be. But Thatch had never held me, whereas Julian had, and I had just assumed.
Like that night, danger surrounded us, and fear thrummed in my heart. Despite the menace all around, I felt at ease in his embrace. He’d only hugged me like this that one other time, and now
I found myself longing for him to continue. I wasn’t certain I liked Thatch with the way he endlessly complained about my every screwup, kept me from the truth about my mother, and made no attempt to soften his words when it came to my many faults. Yet I felt I could forgive him for all of that and forget about everything else if he only promised not to let me go.
He slouched and rested his chin on my head. He inhaled and sighed. His jacket smelled of oil paints and dusty books. I smoothed my fingers over the breast of his jacket, pausing as I came across a horizontal zipper. I didn’t think he had a zipper on his overcoat, but then he also could fit an entire nine-by-twelve-inch sketchbook into his breast pocket with magic. A zipper was nothing in comparison.
His lips brushed my temple. I tilted my chin up to meet him. His lips whispered across mine, a shadow of a kiss, more of a teasing taste than the satisfaction of a meal. My affinity flared up inside me, insistent and wanting more.
How did I know either of us wanted this and it wasn’t just my magic seducing him and me both? I couldn’t know for certain. All I knew was that part of me had rejected Julian even as my body had caved in to him. Every part of this felt right. There was no hesitancy.
I circled my arms around his neck and drew him to me. His mouth found mine again, once, twice, tasting my lips with such tenderness that I wanted him to never stop. His hand cupped the back of my neck, the other pressing the small of my back into him. He kissed me deeper, fever on his lips and in his touch. His breath tickled across my cheek, warm and inviting, or perhaps it was the wind and not his breath at all. His lips parted mine like the petals of a flower as he drank in my nectar. Never had I known how much I needed to be kissed like this before.
My affinity somersaulted out of control, but I didn’t care.
The moment was so perfect I never wanted it to end. My eyes were closed, so I didn’t see where the flare of white light came from, but I felt it gush out of me. I gasped in surprise. It was neither painful nor pleasant, only unexpected. The glow was so intense I had to close my eyes.
He pushed me away. The absence of him was like a last bite of cake stolen from my fork when I had my mouth ready to taste more. The yearning haunted my lips and arms and insides.