Hexes and Exes

by Sarina Dorie

  “I want you to leave me alone,” I said.

  Energy built inside me. It crackled under my skin. I didn’t try to use it. The magic just happened. It wasn’t like the time with Julian where it shot out of me. It rumbled just below the surface of my skin. That apparently was enough to do damage.

  Invismo fell away, gasping and coughing. For a moment the shape of his chest and part of his coat became visible before fading back into invisibility again.

  I tried to scream for help, hoping to call Vega or another female staff member from down the hall, but the air was sucked out of my lungs before I managed to make much noise. Now I was coughing and choking. Invismo pinned my arms at my sides before I could get in more than one punch.

  “What the hell was that? An Elementia spell? You could have killed me. I try to do the gentlemanly thing, and this is the thanks I get? Which side is it on?”

  My voice came out as a rasp. “Don’t touch me.” A bubble of panic lodged in my chest. This was too much like the time Julian had cornered me in the closet. My affinity tumbled around inside me, ready to do more.

  Invismo dragged my wrist up to my chest. “Get it out.”

  My lungs spasmed, and my body shook. I kept trying to gasp for air, but I couldn’t inhale deep enough. I couldn’t tell if I was having a panic attack or if it was his magic.

  My head felt light and dizzy. I choked, still struggling to breathe.

  “Calm down,” he said. “Take a deep breath. Seriously, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want the phone.” He released my hands. He squeezed my shoulders. “Hey, are you still breathing?”

  I couldn’t answer.

  “Oh, shit.”

  He sat me up and leaned me against the box spring of my bed. He placed a hand under my throat, his long fingers spread across my clavicle. A breath of air surged into my lungs. It tasted cold, like the winter air outside. I gasped and drew in another breath.

  “Sorry. I think I cast a spell that was more powerful than I realized. Weird. Are you okay?”

  I hated it when my magic made my enemies stronger.

  Magic shimmered in the air where I thought his body was, creating an outline of his head and shoulders in front of me. Patches of faded black fabric that must have been his jacket shifted before me, some of his invisibility compromised, possibly from my affinity. His hand was warm and reassuring.

  He stroked my hair out of my face. “Miss Lawrence, are you okay? Can you breathe?” He sounded sincere. Pensive. Or he did a good job of pretending to sound like he cared, like Julian had.

  I closed my eyes, wanting to lean into him. No, I didn’t, I told myself. I didn’t want to sink into comfort and relaxation. I didn’t want to be reassured. I wouldn’t let someone touch me and draw out my affinity. I would be in control.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said. I pushed his hand off me. My face burned with shame.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I really, really would be more comfortable . . . not groping you. Would you just hand me your phone?”

  I dug my hand under the collar of my sweaters, probably giving an eyeful of cleavage as I dug the phone out of my bra.

  Whatever magic he’d done, I was having a hard time finding my voice, let alone my breath. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? If you were a gentleman . . . you would have used magic . . . to retrieve my phone.”

  “As a matter of fact, no, I wouldn’t. I can’t perform magic on electronics.”

  I pushed on the power button of my cell phone and handed it to him, waiting to see what happened.

  “Oh, fuck! It’s on.” The phone flew across the room, smashed into Vega’s wardrobe, and clattered to the floor.

  I felt empowered by the decision to turn it on. I wondered if that made me a wicked witch.

  The hand in front of my face wasn’t invisible anymore. The palm was dark peach, and the thumb and pointer finger red and swollen with blisters. The air smelled like burnt meat. He waved his hand around in the air like he was trying to cool the burn.

  From what I’d gathered, cell phones just weakened most affinities and depleted Witchkin’s powers. This was unexpected.

  “Are you Fae?” I asked. My eyes narrowed in suspicion. Electronics only affected purebloods that way.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Something thudded against the floor. He gasped for air. “How did you keep it from burning you?”

  “Why would my cell phone burn me?”

  “Ha ha! Fine. Play clever if that’s what you want.” He shifted slightly, fumbling through the drawers on the bottom of Vega’s wardrobe. He used a pair of lacy red underwear to pick up my phone from the floor and shoved it downward, probably into a pocket. The phone and underwear disappeared out of sight.

  Vega was probably going to kill him when she realized he had stolen her panties. Good.

  “This is exactly the reason why you shouldn’t have electronics. You might accidentally hurt yourself or someone else. What if your phone had done that to one of your students?” Now he sounded like Thatch.

  “Yeah? Do you molest my students to get phones out of them?”

  He huffed.

  I glared at him. “You got what you wanted. Now leave me alone.”

  His nontransparent hand gave away where he was. His hand swung as he walked, the opaqueness of his flesh fading as he headed toward the exit. The door opened and creaked almost to a close.

  I hugged my knees to my chest. I felt dirty and violated, with a hint of humiliation thrown in. Worst of all, I didn’t understand why. What was wrong with me?

  To make matters worse, I’d used my cell phone as a weapon, which wasn’t allowed. I was going to get in so much trouble when he reported me.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  I covered my face and moaned.

  “Hey, just so you know, your roommate is coming back.” His words jolted me rigid. I had thought I was alone. The door was open. “You might want to tidy—”

  I groped for something behind me. My dream journal on my bed was the first thing my hands grabbed. I threw it across the room at the open doorway.

  The book stopped in midair. He’d caught it apparently. Now that I knew where he was, I threw one of Vega’s yearbooks from the twenties at him and another. I threw fast, years of juggling making me quicker than most people. I expected at least one of them to smack him in the head. Effortlessly he tossed each book onto Vega’s bed. Either he was quick, or he was good at magic. As I groped for another book, the door closed.

  I sagged back against my bed. Two seconds later, the door opened again. Vega looked me up and down. “What is that slimy yellow stuff oozing out of your pocket?”

  That’s right. I had forgotten about the egg to cure Derrick of his curse. Not only had I lost my phone, but I’d destroyed the egg as well. What a crappy night. My hope lay shattered as thoroughly the dragon egg in my pocket.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Secrets of a Former Siren

  I did my best to collect as much of the dragon egg as I could, placing it in an empty glass jar from Vega’s dresser, but I suspected it was a lost cause.

  I wanted to give the egg to Thatch right away, but the dungeon was still locked up, and I didn’t want to venture there alone. The following morning, he wasn’t in his room. Later, I knew from Imani he’d been teaching classes that day, but he wasn’t in the dungeon after school again. I closed my eyes and tried to use my intuition.

  My entire body tilted toward the right, like a dowsing rod. Whether it was magic or my subconscious telling me the next logical place to find Thatch, I went to the library.

  He leaned against the counter, a box of chocolates between him and Mrs. Periwinkle. I ducked behind a bookshelf. I peeked at them through the gaps between books.

  “Chocolate-covered licorice is my favorite, but you really didn’t have to do that, Felix.” Mrs. Periwinkle batted her eyes and giggled like a school girl.

  It was a very strange world I lived in when the school’s gru
mpiest teacher was courting the oldest, grumpiest librarian.

  He placed a hand on hers. “Of course I had to bring this for you. I happened to be in Iceland the other day, checking for magical activity, when I came upon this adorable little shop selling your favorite.”

  Did Thatch just say “adorable”?

  The two of them leaned against the counter, their whispers conspiratorial. He popped one of the chocolates into his mouth, and she nibbled on another. Maybe someone had cast a spell on Thatch.

  “Have you thought about my offer?” he asked.

  This was getting good. It was like a soap opera. He had a thing for mature women. She had a thing for snarky men who looked a third their age. It was a perfect match.

  She looked down, batting her lashes in a youthful way. “It was very sweet of you, but I’m just too old for that sort of thing.”

  “It’s your kind of music. You’ve always enjoyed old jazz. Vega would love for you to come with us.”

  I thought back to the time I’d seen him dressed in twenties-era clothes while he’d accompanied her on an excursion. Now that I knew the magic words to Vega’s heart included the lyrics: It don’t mean a thing, if it ain’t got that swing, I presumed Thatch had taken Vega dancing, not to the graveyard to perform rites of forbidden magic.

  Mrs. Periwinkle patted him on the cheek. “Another time.”

  Epic fail.

  He muttered something too quiet to hear.

  I waited for him to finish flirting before following him out the door. I tried to set after him anyway.

  Mrs. Periwinkle spied me darting out from between bookshelves. “Ah, Miss Lawrence. I didn’t see you skulking in the shadows.”

  “I wasn’t skulking.”

  She smiled a little too sweetly and waved me closer. I had a feeling she wasn’t about to offer me some chocolate. I eyed it enviously. She slipped the box under the counter.

  “At the start of the school year,” she said. “Do you remember that time you asked for books on restricted subjects?”

  Already I could tell this conversation wasn’t going to end well. I shrugged and tried to adopt a nonpanicked expression on my face. I hadn’t done anything wrong lately. “I vaguely remember asking about some terminology that I’d read in a book Thatch gave me. I didn’t realize the topics I asked about were anything bad.”

  “Mr. Thatch,” she emphasized. “Interestingly, one of those books you inquired about is missing from my office.” Her eyes narrowed. “Such a funny little coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

  My gaze flitted to the locked glass case in her office behind her. Now that I knew what the Fae Fertility Paradox was, how the Red affinity worked, and their connection, I didn’t need any of her books. What I’d gotten from Alouette Loraline’s diary was far more insightful than anything she could have locked up.

  I met her gaze. “I did not steal anything from the library. I’m not a thief.” She couldn’t blame me for thinking about being a thief.

  Since I hadn’t stolen any books, it made me wonder who had. Someone wanted to know about the Red affinity and the Fae Fertility Paradox. An invisible man had stolen my phone, and he’d also been following me around.

  Periwinkle’s puckered lips creased into a line.

  “Well, um, see you later.” I backed away.

  She untucked her wand from her sleeve. I didn’t remove my gaze from the stick of twisted wood, suspecting she might hex me while my back was turned.

  I waved, trying to sound cheerful. “Good luck finding that book.”

  I nearly collided with someone outside the library doors.

  Thatch crossed his arms. “Why were you eavesdropping on my private conversation with another staff member?”

  Of course.

  “I didn’t come to the library to eavesdrop on you and Mrs. Periwinkle. I—”

  “Miss Periwinkle. She never married.”

  The thing I wanted to talk to him about most was the dragon egg. “Okay, anyway—”

  He cut me off. “I did tell you before that Miss Periwinkle is younger than I am. She can’t be much older than forty-five. You are aware that twenty-five years ago she had a little accident.”

  Yes, I knew Miss Periwinkle had an accident involving my biological mother and her face. I crossed my arms, impatient for him to finish. “You told me about this already. She hates me because she blames my biological mother for what happened.”

  “Indeed. But it wasn’t Alouette’s fault. It’s mine.” His gray eyes bored into me, haunted and full of regret.

  My breath caught in my throat. “Do you mean . . . you. . . ? Did you curse her?” I suspected he had some ulterior motive in being this chatty.

  “I would never have done anything to change her.” He shuffled down the stairs. “Did you know Miss Periwinkle was a student at our school once?”

  I shook my head. Then as I thought about it, I realized I had heard talk about a siren student in the past. I just hadn’t connected that was her.

  “It was my first year teaching at Womby’s after . . . a lengthy sabbatical.”

  I had pieced together he’d had an absence from the school by examining the yearbooks, noticing he had left at the same time as Alouette Loraline. He had returned shortly after she’d been hired on again. I burned to know what they had been doing in that time—researching the Fae Fertility Paradox—or something else? I didn’t dare interrupt. Thatch was on a roll, and I didn’t want to distract him now that he was about to share something juicy.

  Then again, I never knew when he was telling a tall tale or the truth. This might be another lie to make me cry.

  “I knew of Gertrude Periwinkle, but I didn’t have her as a student myself. She was youthful and glamorous, like a starlet from one of the talkies. Ahem, I mean films. A movie star from a film. That’s how you would say it these days?”

  I nodded. I could picture her as a young Jayne Mansfield or Marilyn Monroe.

  “Her hair was long and blonde. She was part water nymph: a lorelei or rusalka, combined with only she knows what else. She was like Maddy, so beautiful it hurt your eyes to look at her. You think Maddy distracts boys, but you should have seen Miss Periwinkle. Even young ladies couldn’t keep their eyes off her.

  “Your mother taught her how to channel her powers into more practical uses. Gertrude learned how to glamour her true self to be less . . . appetizing. Not less attractive, just within the range of normal so she could pass as a Morty . . . if she chose.”

  I followed him down the stairs, wanting to know more, but I didn’t want to interrupt. He so rarely told me anything about my mother. Or himself. This story involved them both. Part of me wondered if I should believe anything he told me after he’d lied to me about Derrick and lied to me about being my father to try to get me to cry, but I didn’t see mischief in his eyes. If anything, he looked sad.

  “Gertrude—ahem—Miss Periwinkle worked hard to be the top of her class. She wanted to show others she was more than a pretty face. In her junior year, she switched affinities from a water Elementia with siren powers to a Celestor, drawing on the energies of the stars to fuel psychic abilities. She volunteered in the library and apprenticed with the librarian. This was at least in part because the librarian was nearly blind and deaf and treated her like any other annoying teenager.” He grinned at that.

  “After Miss Periwinkle graduated, she left for several years before the librarian position opened up here and she applied for the job. She was skilled enough to get the job—she’s quite proud about that fact. The library became a very popular place for male students to study that year. The teaching staff—the male teachers—weren’t much more discreet in their sudden fascination with the library.”

  We passed two students on the stairs, at which point, Thatch stopped speaking. He skewered them with his gaze. The two young men skirted to the side, giving Thatch a wide birth. I wondered why he was willing to share all this with me.

  After we were out of earshot, Thatch adjuste
d his cravat. “I checked out more books that year than any other year since.” He glanced at me and then away, as if concerned how I would react to the sin of having the hots for a librarian.

  I smiled encouragingly, trying not to look like someone judgmental.

  He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to be attracted to her. We were colleagues, and she had been a former student—if not of mine—of your mother’s. I had no interest in her. No interest whatsoever . . . yet I couldn’t stop looking. Even with all that glamour, and the layers of Celestor magic to become something else, she couldn’t suppress her sexuality by hiding behind books. I asked her if she would sit for me so I could paint her. Yet, I could never capture her perfection, only hints of it.”

  “Did you paint her with or without clothes?” I asked, thinking of the painting I’d spied in his room. He’d eventually draped her in fabric and clothes, but I’d seen the work in progress before that too.

  “Why do you ask such vexing questions?” he said sharply.

  I tried not to giggle. Definitely without clothes.

  He placed a hand on his chest. “I told myself I was saving my heart for someone else. But that woman wasn’t in love with me, so what did it matter if I moved on?”

  I assumed by that woman he meant my mother.

  He sighed. “It was Alouette who encouraged me to ask Gertrude if I might court her. I didn’t expect Gertrude to agree to it. Many men were interested in her.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke. He was lost in his thoughts, his past fresh in his eyes. “I was smitten. I took her dancing several times, even though I hate dancing. I courted her, bought her chocolates, and did all the other things a young man is supposed to do when he wishes to gain a young lady’s affection.”

  He walked at a leisurely pace, but I had to take two quick strides to keep up with him. We passed out of the brick section of the school and into the older Victorian section. He lapsed into silence as we passed a group of students. Chase Othello, a girl with bright purple hair, waved to me. I waved back.