Suddenly Spellbound

by Erica Lucke Dean

  “Hey, are we still dress shopping Monday?” Helena asked.

  “As far as I know. I still haven’t heard from Chloe.” The growl of an approaching engine drew my attention away from the playground in time to see a shiny red sports car race toward us. It skidded to a stop, sideways across two parking places, and sat idling.

  “Who’s that?” Helena leaned forward, staring at the car as if trying to see through the tinted windows.

  “No clue.”

  The passenger door opened, and a familiar head of red-streaked hair popped up. The rest of him followed as he stopped to scan the playground, and my stomach reintroduced itself to my toes. His face lit up, and he waved at me like a circus chimp.

  Helena tilted her head to the side, shifting her gaze from my face to the car. “Hey, isn’t that your dad?”

  “You mean I’m not hallucinating?”

  She laughed. “Nope. Pretty sure that’s him. What’s he doing here?”

  “I have no idea, but mark my words, it can’t be anything good.” I glanced over at the kids on the swings. “Can you watch my class for a few minutes? I need to see what he wants.”

  “Sure, go ahead.” She gave my shoulders a shove then gasped. “Oh, hey. Who’s he?”

  I spun around to see Liam climb out of the car. My traitorous hormones perked at the sight of him. “That’s my father’s, uh—teaching assistant.”

  “He’s—wow.” Helena fanned herself. “I wouldn’t mind him teaching me a thing or two.”

  “Stay away from him,” I snapped. “I mean, he-he’s trouble.” An uninvited ripple of jealousy tore through me, and I tamped it down. Why on earth would I be jealous of Helena? Over Liam? I pressed my palm to my forehead. The flu. It had to be the flu. But delirious or not, I needed to deal with my father. “I—uh—I’m just going to go talk to my dad for a minute.”

  “Stay strong. Don’t cave.” She giggled.

  “Yeah. Famous last words.” I barked out a laugh. She had no idea.

  As I crossed the distance between Helena and my father, Liam jogged over to me.

  “Ivie.” He beamed. “I hoped I’d get to see you again.”

  Stupid sexy sorcerer, messing with my insides. But I had no intention of giving in to his charms. “Well, I do work here.”

  He gave a nod but said nothing.

  “Ah, my bonnie lass, I’m so glad we found you.” My dad bounded in my direction and scooped me into an awkward hug.

  I wriggled free and took a few steps back, bumping into Liam’s warmth. “Daddy.” I tried to keep my voice chilly, despite the many conflicting emotions stirring within me. I wanted to rip into him for my FBI file and the problems he’d created with Jack. But mostly, I wanted to scream at him for bringing Liam into my life because, try as I might, I couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. I tried to ignore Liam’s crooked grin and focused on my father’s guilty face. “Why are you here?”

  “You know I wouldn’t bother you at work if it wasn’t an emergency.”

  I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, so maybe I would—but not today. Today, it’s an emergency.”

  “I’m waiting.” I locked my eyes on his.

  Dad snuck a glance at Liam. “It’s about those gentlemen who visited your mum the other day.”

  “You mean Smith and Wesson?” I uncrossed my arms and took a step closer.

  Liam turned up the volume on his grin, his whole face lighting up. “Smith and Wesson?”

  “I don’t remember their names.” I glared at Liam, steeling myself against his charms before giving my father my full attention. “But you’re talking about the two FBI guys, right?”

  “Yes. They showed up at the house again today, a little confused about their last visit but no less determined to find your mother guilty of insurance fraud. And they’ll use every underhanded method in the book to do it, including dragging you into the whole sordid mess.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I couldn’t decide where to look: at my father’s grim expression or Liam’s hopeful one. “B-but I didn’t know you were still alive. All those years, I thought you’d died!”

  Dad nodded. “Yes, of course you did. And your mother—God bless her—she knew, of course, but she didn’t think there was any hope of bringing me back. I don’t think she filed the claim on the life insurance until I’d completely disappeared.”

  I hadn’t known it then, but the trusty Irish wolfhound that slept at the foot of my childhood bed until I drifted off to sleep had actually been my father. Then one day, I came home from school to discover my dog had vanished. Run off. But of course, he hadn’t gone far. Dad had simply managed to transform into another animal form and had found his way into my life again as the cat I’d named Karma.

  “Dad, what are we going to do?”

  “It’s going to be all right, Ivie.” Liam stepped up, grasping my arms in his strong hands—strong hands I had no trouble imagining sliding across my bare skin.

  I wrenched my arms out of his grip and backed up. “How? How will it be all right?”

  “I have a plan!” My father thrust his index finger in the air to strike a pose.

  I’d heard that one before.

  “We need to attempt a spell. Unfortunately, it won’t last forever, but it’ll buy us some time while we figure something else out.”

  “Forget it!” I spun on my heels, ready to march right back to where Helena stood, watching us from the corner of her eye.

  “Ivie, wait!” My father caught my elbow, turning me around to face him again.

  “No, Dad. I’m not sticking around for this. I promised Jack no more magic.” I yanked my arm back, this time getting a few steps away before turning to him. “You’ll have to work your spell without me.”

  “You don’t understand!” My father shouted. “We need you. This will only work if we channel your power. If we had a lock of hair or something personal from one of the agents, maybe—but the only thing we have is your memories of them from the other day.” He fisted his hair, pacing in front of the red car, mumbling incoherently.

  I heaved out a sigh. “What about Liam? Or Mom? They were both—”

  “No! It has to be you.” Dad’s eye twitched. “You’re the one they’re after.”

  “Dad, I’m sorry. I can’t risk ruining my relationship with Jack. I just can’t.” I turned my back on him again and darted toward Helena and the playground.

  “Your dad sounds pretty upset.” Helena furrowed her eyebrows, stealing glances at my father and Liam, still loitering in the parking lot.

  I tried to flash an easy smile, but my stomach was wound tighter than pantyhose in a dryer. “Understatement.”

  “Ivie Marie McKie. You get back over here this instant!” My father’s voice echoed through the clear air. “I did not raise you to turn your back on your parents.”

  The entirety of the playground stopped to stare at my father’s outburst.

  “Oh, my God, what does he think he’s doing?” I gaped at my dad stomping around the parking lot, talking to himself. “I’d better go calm him down. I’m sorry. Watch my class again?”

  “Better hurry. We only have”—Helena turned her wrist to check the time—“ten minutes left in recess.”

  “Thanks. I owe you.” I gave her a quick hug before dashing back to the red car.

  Dad continued his frantic pacing with Liam keeping up with him, stride for stride. Based on the bits and pieces I heard of their conversation, Liam’s attempts at calming Dad down had failed.

  “Damn it, Dad. You’re going to get me fired!” I whisper-yelled as I got closer.

  Dad froze at the sound of my voice. “Ivie! Thank goodness.” He rushed over to pull me into a hug. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint your family.”


  I wiggled until I could put my hands on his chest then pushed free. “I’m doing this for Mom.”

  He nodded. “Of course.” His eyes lit up, and he grabbed my hand as if I were a small child. “Come ’ere. I wanna show you something.”

  I reluctantly allowed him to lead me to the back of the car and waited while Liam released the trunk latch.

  Sandwiched between several thick coils of rope and a gray wool blanket sat a small, rusted cauldron filled with crystals, an assortment of incense and candles, and a few colorful ribbons.

  “You brought me here to see Liam’s magical toolbox?”

  “No.” My father scoffed. “I brought you here for this.” He reached into the trunk and pulled back the blanket to reveal a tattered old book. “My first spellbook.” Dad lifted the book from its hiding place and cradled it as if it were an infant.

  I reached out to glide a finger over the brittle binding and feared the cracked leather would crumble at my touch. “This doesn’t look like the book I used to change you back.”

  “Oh, no. It’s not. This is my very first spellbook. From my schoolboy days.”

  I scoffed. “Are you trying to tell me you went to Hogwarts?”

  Liam gazed at me with a crooked grin. “Sorcerers don’t go to Hogwarts, Ivie. That’s wizards.”

  I held back an unladylike squeal. “Hogwarts is real!” The ten-year-old me had been desperate to go to Hogwarts.

  Both Liam and my father doubled over in laughter.

  “Not real then?” Right. Nice going, Ivie. I narrowed my eyes at Liam as he stood and pulled himself together. Could that have been any more embarrassing?

  “Don’t feel bad.” He brushed a piece of hair from my eyes. “I believed in Hogwarts as a boy—convinced I’d go there one day—only to have my hopes dashed as a young teenager.”

  I crossed my arms. “Well, I’m a grown woman. I shouldn’t have fallen for an obvious joke.”

  “Ivie, it’s almost time to go in.” Helena’s voice gave me something else to focus on.

  “Be right there.” I waved at her then turned to my father. “I appreciate you showing me the book. Maybe I’ll take a closer look one day soon, but recess is just about over.”

  “Wait.” Dad grabbed my arm. “Give us just five minutes more. We need to work this spell immediately. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

  I glanced at the playground. The kids darted around, burning off the rest of their nervous energy as they lined up to go in. “You’ve got two.” I gave them the sternest look I could muster and held a hand out to each of them.

  Before I had time to take a breath, the magic crashed over me like an angry wave in the middle of a hurricane. From the fingers laced with Liam’s to the hand clasping my father’s, the current flowed through me as if I’d touched a live wire. The words of a spell echoed around me in stereo as they chanted, over and over, in a language I recognized but didn’t speak. Gaelic.

  My skin tingled, hotter and sharper, until the sensations became almost painful. Wind rushed around me, swirling my hair around my face. A tornado of power surrounded us, reaching out farther from my body with each pass. “Dad?” I heard the alarm in my own voice. My tongue burned with peppery sweetness.

  He didn’t answer, but Liam squeezed my hand. His unique touch comforted me in the midst of a tsunami.

  Then the air stilled—the rush of electricity drained out of me, taking my breath for an instant—just before the windows in the shiny red sports car exploded and with them, every window in every car around us.

  I screamed, folding in on myself as Liam swept me into his arms to cover my body with his—protecting me from flying glass. Again. The sudden urge to rub my backside against him like a cat in heat overwhelmed me. And yet—don’t ask me how—I managed to resist.

  A hint of ozone tinged the air, pricking my nose. “What the hell was that, Dad? How is it things blow up every time you do magic?” I shook glass from my hair as I stood to scan the parking lot. Not a single car had escaped the destruction, not even my own.

  Dad shrugged, his ears tinged red. “Maybe a bit too much of the white sage.” He pinched the air in front of him.

  Liam nodded.

  “Too much white sage? Too much white sage!” My feet crunched on broken glass as I paced over the concrete. “You destroyed an entire parking lot! And you—” I shook a finger at Liam. “Why do you keep helping him? Mom was right. I should have listened to Jack. How do I get myself into these things?” The sound of children screaming brought me back to my senses. “I need to get back to my class.”

  I sprinted across the distance but came to a screeching halt right in front of Dr. Clark. His eyebrows formed a sharp V, and his nose twitched, making his penciled-on mustache dance above his thin lips. “Miss McKie. Why am I not surprised to see you in the thick of all this chaos? You do have a penchant for destruction of private property, don’t you?”

  My mouth fell open as I struggled for words. Why wouldn’t he be surprised? Sure, I’d been late a time or two. And okay, so I had a history of calling in sick when I wasn’t. But destruction of private property? What? “Dr. Clark, I-I don’t know what to say. My father…” I turned to where my father and Liam had been, but they were gone. Nothing was left of the red sports car but a trail of broken glass. Liam and his stupid disappearing act. How does he do that?

  For the second time in a week, I found myself sitting in the back of a police car. The smell of vomit and body odor permeated every square inch and had probably soaked into my Rag and Bone jeans, and my Betsy Johnson shoes were undoubtedly ruined, thanks to the assorted shards of glass embedded in the bottoms and whatever sticky substance had glued them to the floorboards. And while I sat, hands cuffed behind my back—yet again—my father and Liam had vanished into thin air.

  “I saw her talking to two men in the parking lot.” Helena’s voice managed to carry over the sounds of the police radio and the sirens in the distance. “She yelled at them to leave school grounds, and when she turned to come back to the playground, everything exploded. Ivie couldn’t have had anything to do with it.” Once she’d finished telling her side of things, I caught Helena’s eye through the bulletproof glass, and she winked.

  I bit back a smile. It wouldn’t do, in my current predicament, for me to look so pleased. But I owed her a few drinks and probably a pair of Manolos.

  The door wrenched open, and a middle-aged policeman with what looked like a bun in the oven—but most likely a few dozen donuts—reached in to pull me to my feet. “Well, teacher lady, looks like you’re free to go.” The jangle of steel as he uncuffed my wrists was music to my ringing ears. “If I were you, I’d steer clear of any more explosions for a while. Got it?” He flashed me a smile.

  I returned it with one of my own. “Got it.”

  Dr. Clark cleared his throat. “Am I to understand it was your father who blew up the parking lot? Would that be the same father who mysteriously returned from the dead after blowing up his science lab, only to blow up another one after his resurrection?”

  That would be the one. “He—it’s—technically yes. But he didn’t actually blow up the parking lot. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.” I exhaled a sharp breath.

  “A reasonable explanation?” He swished his mustache from side to side. “The men from the FBI said you might say that. Tsk, tsk, Miss McKie. Blaming your circumstances on chance?”

  “The FBI?” My heart thundered in my ears. For the first time in ages, I wished my father were here. He needed to fix his own mess for a change.

  “Yes, the gentlemen were kind enough to visit my office the other day. I, of course, gave you the benefit of the doubt. What sort of person would I be if I hadn’t? But as they predicted, your true nature has shown itself.”

  “As they predicted
? My true nature? But I didn’t even get arrested this time. I didn’t do anything.” I was dumbfounded. Smith and Wesson had set me up. Sort of. They couldn’t have pulled it off without my father’s unwitting help. “Dr. Clark, there really has been a terrible misunderstanding. You can ask Helena—”

  His sweaty palm shot up in front of my face. “Ms. Ferrell said she saw you speaking with your father on school grounds—a violation in and of itself—right before the explosion. I have no doubt he played a large part in the destruction. As I understand it, he has a history of these things. However, I cannot discount your hand in it. I’m afraid I’ll have to let you go.”

  “Let me go?”

  He nodded, his twitchy little nose wrinkling.

  “If you would collect your things and leave, I’ll see to it your final check is sent to you.”

  “You’re firing me?” A spark of fury bubbled up in me, and the fleeting image of Alistair Clark in weasel form danced through my mind. But before the idea raged out of control, I tamped it down. I already had enough problems to deal with without transforming another jerk into a woodland creature.

  “Yes. Should I spell it out for you?” He leaned in until I smelled the gorgonzola on his breath. “You’re F-I-R-E-D.”

  “Fired.” I mouthed the word, willing it to sink in.

  “And really, Miss McKie. Look at you. You don’t fit in here.” His face twisted into one of distaste as he stared at my hair. “How I failed to notice that obnoxious shade of red is a mystery.” He turned his face to the clear blue sky before locking his beady eyes on mine. “It must be the natural light. But no matter. I think you’d be better suited in the public school system, where they embrace individuality in their teachers. But I’m afraid we’re a bit more—”

  Snobby? Stuck up? Arrogant? Pretentious?

  Dr. Clark tapped a long finger against his chin, and his face lit up with a smile. “Selective.”