The Kitchen Witch Switch

by Dawn Montgomery

  The Baba Yaga leans forward and braces her hand on the table. “Do this for me, and I guarantee you that we’ll fix your record, remove your null status, and zip up that loop hole so that no one else but you can ever sign your name to another contract.”

  My stomach twists in a combination of fear and excitement. “Are you serious?”

  “I never go back on my word.” Elise glances at her, but I’m focused on her expression.

  “You will swear an oath and put in writing?”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “If you get me that contract, yes.”

  “Good. Elise will handle the paperwork. I have somewhere else I need to be. Your familiar will bring the final document to you as soon as it’s finished.”

  Purple smoke forms around her and lightning shoots out in tiny sparks. What a light show. “Oh, one other thing. I’m going to need you to start working now,” The Baba Yaga says then chants quietly.

  The smoke reaches me, tightening my skin with magic. “Wait a minute. I have a job here. I still have to make arrangements.”

  “We've already taken care of everything.” Elise smiles at me as the strange feeling envelops me.

  “What's happening?”

  “We’re off to sign the paperwork of course.”

  “Wait. I need to grab some things first.” I realize my voice is barely a whisper. My purse, my keys, there are things I need to grab.

  “Good luck, Meghan Stiles. The fate of one very important man and the future of the Kitchen Witch Academy rests on your shoulders.”

  With that, the world fades from my view. Panic tightens my chest and I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake by stepping back into this world.

  BRANDON

  I glance down at my phone and take my uncle’s incoming call. “Did you find her?”

  “Well, good morning to you too, nephew.”

  I chuckle and swipe a hand over my face. “Sorry, Uncle Viktor. My first class will be a nightmare without her.”

  “The Magical Food Safety and Sanitation professor still giving you trouble?”

  “You have no idea.” I stride down the hallway, ignoring the fear and longing in the expressions of the students around me. Not once has my curse manifested in this school, but I’m treated like this every day.

  “Remind him that you’re there at the request of the headmaster and that the Devlins funded his little magic prep side project last summer.”

  “So she’s not coming.”

  He sighs. “She’s not, but Baba Yaga assures me they have a replacement.”

  I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Who? I thought there was no one else who could endure my curse.”

  “All I know is that it’s a relative of hers. You should see her today, but I’m not sure when.”

  She can’t be worse than the last one. “It should make Grandmother happy, at least.”

  “When she comes in, if you think she can take it, bring her by for lunch. We might as well drop her right in the fire.”

  “You want me to show her the curse?”

  “It’s better than wasting our time like we did with the first one. Honestly, I knew from the beginning that choosing a Stiles to help was a waste of time. Running away is exactly what I would expect from their family.”

  I turn the corner and find my professor waiting outside the door for me. Why I am required to take this class is beyond me. “Is everything arranged for the meeting tomorrow?”

  “Of course. That assistant of yours is efficient in everything he does. I’ll plan to see you at lunch, whether her replacement shows up or not.”

  A smile touches my lips. “Okay, uncle. I look forward to seeing you.”

  “Good. Now give that professor hell for causing you trouble.”

  I give my affirmation and end the call, just in time for a fierce glare to lock onto me and then away.

  “Without your lab partner, you won’t be able to continue the lesson.” It’s there. The fear in the eyes, sweat on his forehead, a snear on his mouth, and the way his gaze shifts to the students all around him but ignores me. From the beginning, this professor has been a pain in my ass. I endure it for my grandmother’s sake, but I’m at the end of my patience.

  If she were here, she’d make some joke to ease the tension. It was the only thing she was good at. Unfortunately, I don’t have her to run interference this time.

  “Today is supposed to be a cooking demonstration. Tomorrow is the scheduled experimentation day, professor.”

  My polite reminder makes him pale considerably. I know it’s my family name that keeps him from kicking me out altogether, but does he have to be so obvious in his hatred of my curse?

  “Yes, well, don’t touch any of the food.” He says and slams open his classroom door.

  I lean close to the professor. “If you didn’t require every student to attend your class in order to move into the advanced courses, I wouldn’t be here. So quit wasting your time trying to force me to quit. I’m not going anywhere.” Stepping out of his personal bubble, I give him a smirk. I reach out and grab the door, holding it open and motioning him inside. “After you professor.”

  His pupils shrink and the sweat pours off his brow. “This class’s requirements are set in the l-laws of our curriculum. We can’t make exceptions to anyone, even a Devlin.”

  I smile wide and lean close. “Exactly. And by those same laws, you can’t kick me out of your classroom without due cause. So let’s make this another amazing day.” I clap him on the shoulder and he runs from me to the front of the classroom.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and move to the empty side of the classroom. I may not have liked Melanie Stiles that much, but the isolation I face in my classes are a lot harder to face now. Would the new person really make a difference?

  2

  Meghan

  I'm falling, crashing hard on something solid, tailbone first. Pain explodes up my back, tearing a groan from my throat.

  “Thank you for joining us, Ms. Stiles. Class started thirty minutes ago.”

  A dry, bored-sounding voice delivers the barb, while brittle chuckles float in the background, setting my teeth on edge. As heat fills my cheeks, I let my head fall back on the hard surface and sigh. Melanie is going to get her ass kicked when I see her again.

  Why didn’t Elise drop me somewhere less painful? Or public?

  “You dare ignore me?” I realize the one yelling at me is standing at the front of the room. He must be one of the teachers. Great first impression.

  “You don't seem to be the suit type.” A male voice jerks me out of my moment of helpless rage and I open my eyes to see if he's laughing, too.

  My eyes widen. Male brooding hero of my dreams, complete with a cute scar on his cheek. Okay, maybe it was the lighting, or the dizziness caused by the magic whirlwind that brought me here, but I found his face to be a bit of the rough and ready type I prefer. Sensual lips, dark hair, gorgeous green eyes with a piercing gaze that was trying to glare a hole through me. So is he the lab partner or someone else my sister screwed over?

  I sit up. No one else seems to be sitting at the stainless table beneath me, so there's that, at least. I ease my aching butt off the surface and gingerly step down, careful to place my heels properly since my legs are still shaky.

  “Are you going to continue trying my patience, Ms. Stiles, or will you find your seat?” This teacher is really getting on my nerves.

  “Where am I?” I ask, ignoring his questions.

  Tall, dark, and handsome crosses his arms, watching me with a narrowed gaze. “You’re in the Magical Food and Sanitation class.”

  “Wow, is that an actual class?” I chuckle as I rub my tailbone. Definitely going to ache tomorrow.

  “Is my class a joke to you?” The professor bellows his irritation.

  His yelling is pushing all my buttons. “Talk to your director of recruiting, Elise something-or-other. She's the one who kidnapped me and dragged me here.”

 
I haul over a stool, unbutton my suit jacket and sit down, ignoring everyone else. Most days, I roll with the punches. Today, though...

  No doubt, my coffee is probably nearing detonation back on my desk, thanks to one of Al's curses. My boss is likely consolidating all her reasons for firing me. My sister, yet again, sticks me with cleaning up her mess. And to top off the morning, I'm magically transported to some random location and immediately humiliated.

  Not a great start; not much room for rolling or flowing. The only highlight is the contract, signed by Elise and the Baba Yaga, guaranteeing no one but me can sign my name to jack. Ever again.

  I have plenty of good reasons for leaving magic behind. I don't want it in my life. I've said that since I was four and my sister snapped her fingers, setting my favorite doll's hair on fire. And again, when she blew up the kitchen during a tantrum.

  The time she put a curse on my boyfriend because she wanted me to take her place at a volleyball meet, instead of going on a date. The million curses she has lobbed at me over the years. The sticky situations she contracts to handle, then disappears when she changes her mind. Leaving me on the hook to follow through and do the work.

  My experiences with magic have yet to be good. This time is not proving the exception.

  Another screen of smoke fills the area near the door of the room, drawing my attention. The flustered man in a chef coat calms down almost immediately. I watch his gaze turn from glaring at me to a joyful, greedy gleam when Elise pops out of the smoke. He's taken aside for what I assume is a quick explanation of my appearance and I take a moment to look around the room.

  Stainless steel countertops, pans, knives, vegetables. Great, this is actually a cooking class. I’ve officially arrived in hell. “I hope I’m not expected to cook anything.”

  “Why is that?” Mr. Handsome seems amused at my statement.

  “I burn water. My only natural culinary expertise is finding the best out-of-the-way small food shops in any city or town.”

  “You’re not Melanie Stiles, are you?”

  I eye the man next to me. “Would you happen to be Brandon Devlin?”

  “I am.” He crosses his arms and gives me the look I’m used to dealing with regarding anything Melanie has abandoned.

  I hold out my hand. “Since we’re going to be working together for the foreseeable future, let’s introduce ourselves. I'm Meghan Stiles, her twin sister.”

  “Brandon Devlin.” He hesitates for a moment and then shakes my hand. A spark of electric heat ignites between us and I blink in surprise. His gaze darkens as he slowly releases my hand.

  “That will be all for today, class. Ms. Stiles and Mr. Devlin stay behind.”

  Unperturbed by the sudden command, I wait patiently. I wonder what my sister did to him. Will he give me grief over it, or can we come to a professional agreement? While the professor gets into a heated, low-pitched discussion in the front, the guy next to me gives me a once-over.

  “I'm surprised you would show up.”

  I hold up a finger and shake it gently. My gaze locks with his and I smirk. “First of all, let’s get a few things straight. I'm Melanie's older twin sister, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing here. So whatever beef you have with my sister has nothing to do with me. Second of all, the contract agreement requires me to help you with your curse. Nothing more. I won’t be participating in your classes. Finally, I live in the normal, non-magical world. Until we get you squared away, I am stuck here with you. So, let’s not waste each other’s time.”

  I recognize the baffled expression. I get it. We’re completely different in how we handle things. My sister would have laughed and cut a few jokes. I go straight to the heart of the problem and look for the solution.

  “I never had an issue with you—your sister,” he corrects himself when he sees my glare. “She had a problem with me.”

  I cross my legs, put an elbow on the stainless-steel table and prop my head up, considering his words. That sounds like something Melanie would do, so I'm not going to give him grief about it. But he's the man I'm supposed to help. “Your curse is dangerous.”

  “Yes.”

  “I was told I'm supposed to save your life somehow. So, when can we see that curse? I need to get this over with and get back to my life.”

  “What?” He's a bit annoyed and clearly uncomfortable. Brandon blinks slowly and gives a long exhale, then seems to make a decision. He gives me a small nod.

  “We can’t do that here. When we’re done here,” he gestures toward the professor and Elise, “we’ll go to my familial home. There are sufficient protections in place there.”

  The teacher storms out of the classroom and Elise follows. The moment the door slams, his voice reverberates inside the classroom. “Absolutely unacceptable. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to even teach someone like him? Do you know what he could do to this school if he can't contain it and comes back here?”

  I glance over at the guy next to me and see his expression turn hard. It's like all the emotion was stripped from his face, leaving stone behind.

  “If you decide not to continue, I can send you anywhere you need to go once we arrive at my home. Students can't teleport in and out without permission. There’s a way to cancel the contract, but you’ll need to receive approval from my family and the Baba Yaga to do so.” His voice is pitched low and I observe the vein ticking in his jaw. He must be clenching his teeth pretty hard.

  I sigh as the instructor continues his shouting match outside about the dangers of food poisoning and curses. “Don’t try to run me off before I see the curse in action. How long have you had it?”

  “From birth, I’ve been told, but it didn’t manifest until six years ago.”

  “What does your curse do?”

  “It curses food around me, turning it into crystal.” He seems a lot more open than I expected.

  “The professor seems to think it can do much worse than that.”

  He locks gazes with me. “If I can’t control it, all organic matter can be affected.”

  My gaze lingers on the dead emotion in his eyes. The more that jerk outside yells, the more expression seems to drain away. I like him better when he’s glaring at me. “Do you want to know why I'm here?”

  He watches me but doesn't say anything.

  “I'm supposedly immune to your curse.”

  A flicker of emotion sweeps over his expression before he ruthlessly stomps it. “Do you have any idea how painful this curse would be to anyone it touches?”

  His body is tense and with arms crossed, he looks completely unapproachable. I glance toward the door where they're still yelling and then back at him. “Well that guy obviously can’t help you. Your class can’t seem to do anything, either. What do you have to lose with my help?”

  “Don't you want to go back home?”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Of course. So the sooner I see your curse, the sooner we can get you cured and I can go back to my regular life.”

  “It's not that easy.”

  “I am the queen of problem-solving. There’s not a single curse I can’t handle. It’s my one superpower.”

  He raises his eyebrows and his lips lift just a fraction. “Are you sure you want to see the curse?”

  “Yes.” My stomach flips a bit. I mean, two random, super powerful witches told me I was definitely immune to his curse, but then again, they probably based that information on what my family told them. In which case, they could be wrong.

  “You're a lot braver than Melanie is.” He stands up. “If you want to see how bad it gets, come with me. We can also test whether or not you're actually immune.”

  A low laugh escapes and I slide off the stool to follow him. Fun times ahead. I can't wait.

  3

  Meghan

  “Last chance to change your mind.”

  I clear my throat. Okay, I might be a smidge nervous. “Where are we going?”

  “It's lunch time. My curse is food-relate
d, and this is the easiest way to show you.” He opens a small, dingy-looking bag and shoves the giant book inside. From the beginning, it looks like it won't fit, but as he adds more stuff, I can't help but be intrigued.

  “How are you able to put so much stuff in there?”

  “It’s a bag of the void. A family heirloom, actually.”

  An heirloom that has obviously seen tons of use. It looks like it will fall apart at any moment. “Can you really put things in a void? I mean a void, by definition, is the absence of, right?”

  “It's a term that's used to describe a pocket of space and time. Whatever I put in will come back the same as it left.”

  “Can you carry people in them?”

  “My cousin tried that when we were kids. The bag rejects anything living.”

  Okay, so maybe magic had some interesting perks, after all. If my family had something like this, I’ve never seen it. “Ah. Do they come in any other shape or size? Something less medieval beggar's purse and more modern?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.” What I wouldn't give for a void bag, or whatever he called it, of my own! I wouldn't have to carry all my crap in my hands. Of course, pulling out a bunch of stuff from a tiny purse would cause it's own trouble.

  “They’re hard to come by and the formula to make them disappeared centuries ago. You also need to use a magic word to open it, and mundane people can’t see it.”

  I wave my hand at him. “Forget it, then. I can't cast magic and don't have a magic bone in my body, but I'm super resistant to it.” There goes my idea of pulling out stacks of reports in front of my boss the next time she tries to make me work overtime. What's the point of making it stylish if no one else in my normal life can see it?

  “If you didn’t have magic, it would be invisible to you.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” I ignore that and focus on the things that matter. “I have a question or two. If your curse is related to food, why go to school here? Do you have a non-food major?”