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The Kitchen Witch Switch

Page 6

by Dawn Montgomery


  “This is your case file. My name is Mystica Slate. I'll be your familiar-in-residence for the duration of your contract.”

  “I'm not a witch. I don't need a familiar.”

  He reaches up with a paw and pushes his glasses closer to his eyes. “I am not a traditional familiar and your case is very unusual.”

  “Consider him a case manager, a liaison between you and me for the next six weeks.” The Baba Yaga reaches out a hand to hover over my head. “I'm going to test your body for any damage. You might feel a bit uncomfortable.”

  The moment she stops talking, something presses against me and then into my skin, setting my teeth on edge.

  “Where am I?” The ornate room is definitely not a dorm room back at the Academy.

  “You'll be staying at the Devlin residence for the duration of your contract,” Mystica replies.

  Carol the Baba Yaga or whatever she calls herself really lays the magic on me, driving pain into my bones. “Hmm,” she murmurs as the intensity increases even more.

  “What did you find?” I force out through clenched teeth.

  “Nothing.” She pulls her hand back and sits on the edge of the bed. The relief from her magic leaving nearly brought tears to my eyes.

  “Well, that's not exactly true. I can see where you were attacked by the curse, but it's gone, now.”

  “According to her file, she should be completely immune to curses.” The cat's tail flicks back and forth as he stares between me and the papers spread out on the bed.

  “Shouldn't you source your information before assuming it's completely accurate?” I pile the pillows behind me and settle back against the ornate headboard.

  “Our files are always accurate.” He sniffs at me.

  “With no margin for error?” I smirk at him. Yeah, familiars and I are just meant to be enemies in this life.

  “Zero chance of error.” He narrows his gaze at me when I don't respond. “Okay, there's 99.87 percent accuracy.”

  “I'm not immune to curses.” I hold out my hands, palms up. “I build up immunity to curses by being exposed to them.”

  “Explain how that works.” She stares down at a shiny gold watch. “Summarize it if possible. I have someplace else to be.”

  I narrow my gaze at her abrupt attitude. “I have to be exposed to the curse to become immune to it. The first attempt will always affect me, and then most of the time it doesn't anymore.”

  The cat patters onto me, climbing up my stomach and toward my face. He sniffs delicately and if I’m wrong, it seems like he's a little more anxious than I expected. “I see. Our apologies for making this mistake. I'll update your file immediately.”

  “Well hell,” she mutters. “We could have killed you.”

  I smirk and settle back into the pillows. “This is why you should do your research before you force someone into a contract.”

  “The information we gathered was from your family.”

  I interlock my fingers over my stomach. “If your twin sister was constantly using you as a magical experiment for curse practice, would you tell her how your curse resistance works?”

  “Ah. Your mother, as well?”

  “I assume you spoke with her when my sister skipped out on her responsibilities. What did she tell you?”

  “That you would be able to take your sister's place without a problem.”

  “Did she show any concern what-so-ever for me, or did you minimize the danger to her?”

  “We explained the contract in detail to your mother before she was admitted to the school.” Baba Yaga waves her hand. “We still need you to help him.”

  “I want my purse and everything I've mentioned to Elise while I was in the Academy before I do anything else.”

  “Fair enough.” She snaps her fingers and boxes of stuff pops up around her.

  My purse lands on my lap, barely missing Mystica. I rummage through it quickly and find everything in place.

  “Everything else will be delivered after you get Brandon to agree to work with you, again.”

  “That's not my problem,” I reply.

  “If he dies, your family will be cursed for all eternity.”

  Magic is far more trouble than it's worth. “Are you threatening my family now?”

  “No. It's just the terms of the contract.”

  The cat poofs a document in front of me. “You're welcome to review it.” He pauses for a few beats and then continues. “Since you’re not…”

  Baba Yaga waves her hand. “Well, you're not dead or dying, and you can still perform your job.”

  “What exactly is my job?”

  “Keep him alive until his birthday. If he can live past the sunset on that day, the curse supposedly breaks.”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It was like something out of a fairy tale. My mind slips back to the moment the curse touched me. No, I never want to feel that kind of bone-numbing cold again.

  “So you don't expect me to magically break his curse then?”

  “I expect you to keep him alive. It's what your bloodline is good at.” She waves her hand and electric blue smoke pours out around her.

  She eyes the cat. “Keep her out of trouble.” The smoke envelops her and she disappears.

  “I think that's the longest I've seen her stay in one place,” Mystica tilts his head and stares at me. “You're lucky.”

  I sigh and lean my head against the pillow behind me. There's nothing lucky about any of this. “Why did she come here?”

  “The Devlin curse should have been cured two generations ago. I have all the information you need here.” He flips a sheet of paper in the air and it hovers in front of my face.

  It affects the first born son of every generation. Their family only gives birth to male witches. My gaze lingers on Brandon's carefree smile. It was obviously several years ago, but the curse has obviously changed him dramatically. “How will the curse kill him?”

  “Eventually, he'll be unable to eat anything. The curse will encase him in a miasma, turning everything that enters his body into a crystal-like substance. One day, it will turn on him, morphing him into a crystal statue”

  “I've seen it.” I touch my wrist where his curse had affected me. It doesn't tingle or hurt, and there is no mark, but the painful chill still lingers in my mind. “This is a terrible curse. Who or what cursed them?”

  “There's no information on that. Two generations ago, the family thought they had isolated it down to an old blood feud. When the last of that line passed on, the curse was supposedly broken and Eva Devlin, the current matriarch of the family, was born. She was the first daughter born to their family in over a thousand years.”

  “Do you know where my phone is?”

  Mystica flicks his tail and my phone rises out of one of the boxes. “I emptied out your office cubicle and picked up a few things from your apartment.” Mystica flicks his tail again.

  “My office cubicle?” I close my eyes as pain rips through me. All my project notes. My calendar was packed with client work. Who would take it over while I was gone?

  “I organized everything efficiently based on your planner. We have replaced you with a prominent temp half-witch who specializes in filling in for positions like this.”

  “It's great to know I'm easily replaced.” I mutter as I turn on my phone. It's not like my job was the best, but it was mine. I worked my ass off every day, and now they won't even notice I'm gone.

  “You will be able to return once this job is over. This is my job. I do it all the time.” He pads over to the edge of the bed and perches there, watching me.

  “How does my immunity help him?”

  “We can trigger his curse to test its limits and break down how it was made, what catalyst triggers it, and how to dispel it without killing him or anyone else.”

  Morning light peeks in through the sheer curtains. “Then, I guess we'd better get this day started. What's on the agenda for the day?”

  The glasses are sud
denly perched on the tip of his nose again as he brings up another sheet of paper. “Brandon has Cupcakes and Curses 101 this morning. He won't take breakfast since food can spoil if the curse acts up. Coffee is waiting for us downstairs.”

  I tear the blanket off of me and Mystica scrambles out of the way with a yelp.

  “Sorry,” I immediately apologize, but dive into my boxes. “I need something to wear.” My suits weren't packed, or if they were, I have no idea where they'll be.

  “Mrs. Devlin has provided all your necessities.” Mystica sniffs in irritation and licks his paw with fierce aggression. “Look in the closet.”

  I stride across the room and pull open the closet doors. A small cry of joy escapes, but I can't help it. It's a walk-in closet with a lounge chair inside it. “This is bigger than my apartment.” Well, okay, not really, but it feels entirely too extravagant.

  Speaking of extravagance, I turn around slowly and stare at the clothes available to me. “Mystica,” I call with a forced smile in my voice.

  “I am a familiar, you know. Not your servant.” He arrives in a puff of smoke and jumps onto the lounge chair.

  “There are no suits here. No business clothes at all, actually.” Not even casual clothes. No, everywhere I look, I see dresses. Bright, bold, flowing, witchy-esque dresses that I would have never picked out in a million years. Cute on the rack, but definitely not my style.

  “Mrs. Devlin chose the most up-to-date style for a young witch your age. They are all designer labels from the most elite witchy brands on the market.”

  I nod slowly. I believe it. Halloween couture. Not bad.

  “Do you need help selecting a piece? I am rather skilled at it.”

  Have a cat pick out my clothes? I eye him as he watches me with those too-bright eyes. His right ear twitches forward and back and I slowly make my way to him.

  “What is it?” he asks and backs away slightly.

  “Do you like to have your ears scratched?”

  “Wh-what? Why would you ask something like that?” He huffs out in irritation, but I scoop him up in my arms.

  “Scratch or bite me and I won't listen to a single thing you say.” I run my hand gently over his head, scratching lightly behind his twitching ear.

  “I will need something that creates an impact in this world. I'm obviously not familiar with brands and I don't want to make a fool out of myself.”

  “You should choose the red dress. It will look fantastic on you and matches the color of the Devlin house seal. There are also only three of them made every year. It's unicorn silk.”

  “Unicorn silk?” My mind blanks. Of course. What else did I expect? “Are you seriously messing with me?”

  “I'll send you some information on it, later. Let's just say it's the rarest material available. It also has a natural defense against curses. Most of the outfits chosen have magic defense properties.”

  “I can't afford to replace any of these if I ruin them.” I stare down into his eyes. He rolls over onto his back and stretches out in my arms. I gently scratch my nails against his stomach and he purrs quietly.

  “Is it more important to be cheap or to live? You saw the curse last night. And that's not the most dangerous thing you can face when you go back into that Academy.”

  He paw punches my hand and flips over to jump out of my arms. “The red dress is the one you need. It has a set of lace up boots and a matching purse.”

  He poofs them on the lounge chair and then strides out of the closet. “I'll wait for you at the door. Follow this room to the back for the shower. The vanity should have everything else you need.”

  I take the dress off the rack and hold it up to me. “Whatever. I need coffee.”

  With resolve, I decide to tackle the day the only way I know how, with grit and focus. And at least half an hour trying to tame my curls into some semblance of order.

  Coffee first. Then curses. I run my fingers down the magically soft material. And then I’ll think of a way to tackle this problem.

  Why wait it out? I can take care of this on my own. How hard can it be to break a curse?

  8

  Meghan

  Coming downstairs in a wispy flowing red dress fulfills a secret gothic fantasy I never knew I had. I am so tempted to take off my boots and run barefoot through darkened corridors of this huge house.

  A small laugh escapes as I imagine how terrifying my appearance was this morning. Wild hair, raccoon eyes, and a super pale face thanks to the curse counter effect. I'd either be the main lead in the gothic story or the deranged ex-fiance or wife who tries to kill everyone around her.

  As it stands, I just lightly run my hands down the perfectly polished banister. If I look carefully, it's obvious that this house runs on regular magic. Lights floating in the air, brooms sweeping quietly by themselves, and an intense stillness that tells me I'm probably the only living thing in this area of the house. It makes everything my sister does seem like parlor tricks.

  “Will you take breakfast this morning?” Bianca's voice jerks me out of my musing and I blink in surprise. Her smile refreshes me and I can't help but smile back.

  “How much time do we have before Brandon’s class?”

  Bianca's smile freezes and I sigh. “He left already, didn't he? I thought I was supposed to go with him.”

  “We were ordered by the madam to let you rest. The Baba Yaga told us you would be coming down soon, so we prepared.”

  “I'll take coffee and whatever you already have available.”

  My stomach clenches in hunger. Truthfully, after a curse cleansing, I’m desperate for whatever food I can get my hands on. I’m sure the food they serve here is superb, but I wonder if I’ll be able to taste it as I eat.

  “Follow me.”

  I pull my phone out of the purse and check the time. “Is there a way to get me to his class after we eat?”

  “Yes, we can take care of that the moment you're ready.” She opens the door to a smaller dining room than the one from the day before. It's a simple, more modern design that I find far more comfortable. “What type of coffee do you prefer?”

  “Black. Sugar. No cream. Nothing else matters.”

  Bianca laughs and gestures at the chair. An unspoken signal seems to go out, because the other door opens and a large tray is brought in with several dishes. The rich aroma of coffee blends in with eggs, bacon, and many other scents my stomach is now urging me to explore.

  I sit down with as much grace as I can, worried over eating properly while wearing such an amazing dress. The coffee is placed in front of me with a carafe set to the side.

  While they set everything up, Bianca pulls out another chair and puts a small stool on it. Mystica jumps up to sit next to me, a small saucer of food placed in front of him. He reaches up with a paw and removes his glasses, setting them delicately to the side of his dish.

  “Do you really need glasses?”

  He glances over at me and then sighs. “I may look like a spry kitten, but I served my first witch before your great-grandmother was born.”

  My eyes widen as I make the coffee to my preferred taste. “You look very young for your age. Is it normal for familiars to live so long?” It's hard to think of Al as anything more than an overgrown brat. Imagining him being over a hundred years old sits wrong with me.

  “I am an unusual case. My witch specialized in longevity spells.”

  After the dishes are served, we're left alone. Bianca stops at the door. “I'll be on the other side of this door whenever you're ready to depart.”

  “Thank you, Bianca.” She smiles at me and closes the doors.

  “Do you know of a spell that will prevent me from spilling food or liquid on this beautiful dress?”' I ask quietly, slightly embarrassed but determined not to owe a massive debt due to negligence.

  “It's naturally spelled against it, but I can add an additional layer of protection, if you want.”

  “I would appreciate that. Let me know if I can do som
ething in exchange.”

  A spark of magic wraps around me and I'm left feeling refreshed and comfortable. The spell seems to affect the dress and the wearer, completely different from the cleanse spells I experienced earlier. Familiars are so powerful and convenient. No wonder Mel never goes anywhere without Al.

  “If you'd like to help me, Just finish this job quickly so I can get back to my regular work. I don't trust the people I've left in charge in my absence.”

  My boss comes to mind immediately and I sigh. “I know what you mean. Okay, so the first thing we need to do is figure out how I can get him to let me try again.”

  I begin eating as though my stomach hasn't been full in years. Come to think of it, the last time I ate was before work the day before. I didn't try any food before the curse experiment, so it's no wonder that I'm famished.

  I dig into breakfast and so does Mystica. After a few moments of quiet eating, I start with my questions. “According to his schedule, he'll be in Cupcakes and Curses 101 for most of the morning. Do you know what kind of class that is?”

  “It's a class on food curses and how to counter them.”

  “Interesting.” I have way too much experience with that. “Will there be any problem if we pop in during class?”

  “There shouldn't be. We cleared you for unexpected entries after yesterday’s situation.”

  “Excellent.” We finish up breakfast and Mystica does another refresher. This time, I even have a minty fresh feeling in my mouth. This convenience factor was game-changing. I look down at the little cat, see him grooming himself a bit, before I open the door.

  “If you're looking for a job after this, I'd be happy to hire you.”

  He sniffs at me. “You couldn't afford me.”

  I laugh as I open the door and let him through first. He’s probably right, but it doesn't matter. This guy is just too interesting. “Are you ready, Ms. Stiles?”

  “Yes. How will we be—” A jarring kick hits my insides and my mind spins. I blink slowly and realize I've arrived in yet another classroom. Bianca poofs out of existence a moment later, and I'm stuck in the middle of the room with the entire class staring at me. Again.

 

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