Hex Appeal: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 15)

by Sarina Dorie

  I pulled the laundry out of the hamper, placing Thatch’s pajamas on the sink next to a potted orchid and his toothbrush holder, as I dug through the dirty clothes. Even though my art apron was covered in a week’s worth of clay, and I had placed it in the basket that morning because I’d decided it was too crusty to keep me clean, this was a better option than no apron at all.

  A black shadow streaked past me and leapt onto the counter. I jumped back, my elbow smacking the potted plant on the counter behind me and knocking it to the floor with a crash. I let out a little shriek before I realized the little black demon was Lucifer, my mom’s cat.

  I’d knocked my mom’s purple-and-white orchid onto the tile floor, and the ceramic pot had shattered. I stared in horror at the broken pieces. The stem of the plant was bent unnaturally, reminding me of a broken limb. Potting soil speckled the white floor.

  My mom had given me that plant right before the wedding. It had been a good-luck present.

  Tears filled my eyes as I crouched to salvage the orchid. The petals of the orchid were bruised and dirtied. I attempted to push the potting soil back into the remainder of the pot and stand the orchid up, but it leaned listlessly to the side, the upper half bent and dangling. Something about the pathetic flower broken and damaged reminded me of a woman’s figure.

  First there had been the red stain that looked like blood on my blouse. Now my mom’s flower was mangled. Maybe it was a sign. Abigail Lawrence might be hurt. The Raven Queen might be breaking her bones and torturing the truth out of her about me. Tears welled up in my eyes.

  Thatch had probably lied to me about her being safe. Just like he lied about everything.

  Lucifer meowed.

  “Out!” I pointed to Lucifer. “This is your fault.”

  My mom’s cat had never been one to listen to orders. His eyes narrowed at me, and he hissed from his perch on the counter.

  I sat on the floor and cried. I would do anything to help my mom. I hated feeling weak and helpless against the powerful tyrants who ruled this realm. I needed to work harder.

  After I spent several more minutes sobbing and hating the world, I was calm enough to think.

  I was a witch with powerful magic. I had killed with lightning to protect myself. There was no reason I couldn’t use magic to solve this problem. I could use my affinity to fix any object—except for a stain on synthetic fabric.

  The plant and pot were all made from organic materials. I could do this.

  I reached into the well of magic inside me, thinking happy thoughts. My affinity was fresh and powerful from being rejuvenated the previous night by having sex.

  I uttered the words of a healing incantation I’d learned to mend broken pottery, which Jackie Frost, the Elementia teacher, had taught me. I’d used it previously when students dropped their art projects. As I brushed my fingers over the shards of terra-cotta, the air under my hand hummed with magic. I pushed the pieces together, the clay fusing whole, bits falling back into place. Using the touch magic of my affinity that I had to keep secret, I caressed the curve of the pot, enjoying the sensation as it melded into place.

  I didn’t even need to get my hands dirty as I motioned for the dirt to refill the vessel. Magic acted for me. I breathed in the past and breathed out the future, my will infused into the air.

  I didn’t know if the spell would work for plants, but Grandmother Bluehorse had taught me enough Amni Plandai magic that I felt I had a chance at success. I infused the essence of plants into the incantation.

  I cradled the pot to my chest as I ran my fingers along the green stem and straightened the plant fibers to set them into place. I strengthened the spine and infused love into the plant, imagining I was stroking my mom’s hand. I visualized I was soothing one of her injuries rather than one of her plant familiar’s wounds. Damaged chlorophyll cells rearranged themselves under my fingers, replenishing their oozing fluids and flowing into place.

  I smoothed my fingers over the bruises and tears on the crumpled petals. The flowers returned to the pristine perfection that they had been before. The petals were now more peachy-pink than white, perhaps a side effect of the magic. Purple dots in the center shifted. The composition looked less like the pattern that usually adorned an orchid. The shape that the spots formed reminded me of a pair of eyes watching me. It could have been any woman’s eyes, but something about it reminded me of my mom’s. I felt as though I were looking into Abigail Lawrence’s haunted eyes, full of longing and sorrow.

  A drop of dew clung to the stamen like a single tear about to fall. I watched in fascinated horror as moisture gathered and tears rolled down the petals, darkening and turning crimson. Blood spilled across the pale petals onto the floor. I dropped the orchid and jumped back as pottery sprayed me.

  My fragile hold on hope shattered onto the bathroom floor along with the pot. I had used magic to undo the damage of my clumsiness and now the flower was broken again, this time in a splattering of blood.

  There was no doubt about it now. This was an omen.

  The Raven Queen was taunting me. Panic made my chest tight as I thought of her leering face. I remembered what she had done to Derrick and prayed she wasn’t torturing Abigail Lawrence.

  If she wasn’t hurting her yet, she would be soon.

  Thatch had said I needed to wait and build up my skills before rescuing my fairy godmother. He had made me promise I wouldn’t do anything rash. He was teaching me protective magic so that we could go together without the Raven Queen hurting me. But I couldn’t keep waiting. I needed to help my mom. She would have done anything to save me.

  I now knew I couldn’t keep that promise to him. I was done waiting. Mom needed me.

  Of course, he wasn’t the only one I had made promises to. I had told Maddy I would help her with her situation. If I left and died, I wouldn’t be able to solve her infertility problem. She would suffer the fate she feared. I needed to help Balthasar graduate. All my students needed me.

  That meant I couldn’t die. I couldn’t allow myself to be captured. I would go to the Raven Queen and strike a deal with her. I would promise her that I would finish my biological mother’s experiments with the Fae Fertility Paradox. If that was what I had to give her to get my fairy godmother back, I would do it.

  Of course, if I did that, she would probably create an army of Red affinities to destroy all her enemies and enslave Witchkin. She would murder me after she had my secrets.

  Maybe there was a better solution I wasn’t seeing yet.

  I removed the quilted bag my mom had made for me from my wardrobe. I only owned a few items that would be of use against the Raven Court. One was the unicorn horn that Bart had bequeathed to me upon his death. In a pocket I packed my cell phone, iPod, and finding no other electronic devices, I slipped my vibrator in as well. Fae didn’t do well with electronics. I would use whatever I could as a weapon against the Raven Court.

  At the bottom of my wardrobe, almost hidden by my shoes, were a few items of junk food. I packed those as well. Fae were always trying to get Morties and Witchkin to eat their hexed food. Wasn’t it time a Witchkin returned the favor and made them eat nonorganic, GMO food filled with artificial colors and preservatives that would make them sick?

  My mom’s affinity worked best when she was near plants, so I would need to collect something from the greenhouse for her. A set of extra clothes were a good idea too. I removed a set of practical clothes from my dresser: jeans, a short dress, and a warm sweater on top. If I changed and Thatch saw me in outdoor clothes, he would ask why I wasn’t wearing striped leggings for once, and I’d need to come up with an excuse. It was probably a good idea to change later.

  A tingling sensation like a fish hook stuck under my rib cage tugged at my sternum. The more I readied myself and tried to formulate a plan, the stronger the sensation grew of magic pulling at me. Lucifer watched me with curiosity from the door of the bathroom.

  I still needed to get the
bag past Thatch. I could tell him it contained art supplies and store it in my classroom. If I waited until he’d fallen asleep, I could sneak upstairs. It would give me a head start. I didn’t know where the Raven Queen’s castle was located, but I was pretty sure if I went to Lachlan Falls unchaperoned at night, it wouldn’t take much to draw the attention of one of her spies. I could probably just shout up at the sky, “Raven Court, take me to your leader.”

  I didn’t doubt they would.

  That tingling under my sternum grew into a burning. It was like indigestion but pulling me toward something. Perhaps guiding me toward my goal. I slid the bag’s strap over my shoulder and headed toward the door. My legs felt heavy. With each step, I slowed. That burning in my chest was like the stabbing of a knife. I had difficulty drawing breath.

  I didn’t know what kind of magic was at work. I pushed myself forward, but it was agony to do so. The door felt a million miles away. I fell to my knees, panting in exertion. My chest throbbed too much to walk. I crawled. The fire radiating from my chest intensified. I collapsed onto the floor. The bag fell away. I grabbed the leg of Thatch’s dresser and pulled myself toward the door.

  Tears of pain and frustration blinded me, salty streaks dripping down my face. I needed to leave. I had to help my fairy godmother. Why was my body betraying me now?

  The closer I inched to the door, the more blinding the pain became. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe through my sobs. Lucifer padded by, flicking his tail at me. He lifted his nose as though he thought I was stupid.

  Was this a curse from the Raven Queen? The Princess of Lies and Truth? The latter Fae was supposed to be under house arrest in her father’s castle, awaiting the verdict of her parents for her crimes. But that didn’t mean one of them couldn’t have done remote magic. By the time I came to this conclusion, I was too weak and far too pained to reach for the amulet Elric had given me. Even if I had been able to summon him, I wasn’t certain it was worth the cost. I only had one favor left, and then my soul would belong to him.

  The pain was so great, it was difficult not to wish to call him, though.

  The door creaked open, and footsteps thudded against the wooden floor. Lucifer darted under the bed.

  “Clarissa?” Thatch said, the deep rumble of his voice hinting at urgency. “What happened?”

  He touched a hand to my head, the gesture tender. Carefully he rolled me over, cradling the back of my head in his palm so that I stared up at him. I tried to answer, but my words came out a moan. His brows drew together as he gazed at me. Crouching beside me, he unbuttoned the bottom of my shirt. It took me a second to realize he thought the red stain on my blouse was blood. He sighed in relief when he saw it wasn’t.

  My limbs were heavy. It took too much effort to move. His gaze swept over the bag on the floor beside me. He scanned the room, his expression shifting momentarily from surprise to anger to sorrow as he took in the sight of the broken flower pot and crimson stain on the bathroom floor.

  “You were planning on leaving? Without me?” The gray gloom of his eyes was filled with hurt.

  My paralysis must have been caused by him. I loathed his sneaky attempts to “protect” me from myself. My voice came out a croak. “You did this to me, didn’t you? With magic?”

  He helped me sit up. “I bound you to your word. I can see if I hadn’t, you would have broken it.”

  “It isn’t fair. I need to help her,” I said. “They might be hurting her.”

  “I told you she’s safe. She will remain safe until the end of the school year.”

  “Maybe, but you’re also a liar.” Every word was a struggle as I fought the spell.

  There were so many times he had lied to me in the past in order to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. For all I knew, he was doing it again.

  “I am a liar. What does that make you?” He scooped me up and carried me to the bed.

  My muscles were weak enough that I couldn’t sit up, so I lay there like a rag doll. He finished unbuttoning my stained blouse and tossed it on the floor. Silently he covered me with blankets.

  It took tremendous effort to will myself to speak. “I wouldn’t have broken my word if you had agreed to help me save her.”

  He took my hand in his and massaged my palm. “I did agree to help you, and I intend to keep my word. But you aren’t ready yet.”

  Some of the stiffness of my limbs left me as he massaged my arm. He moved on to the next hand.

  I stared into the calm mask of his face. “You’ll never say I’m ready.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted up into a sardonic smile. “If I had my way, I would keep you from the Raven Queen forever. But I know I can’t keep you from this. That is why, against my better judgment, I agreed to help you. But you must be able to protect yourself from her influence. You still need to learn more defensive magic to safeguard your affinity from being used against you.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

  The gesture was affectionate, meant to be loving, but so much resentment boiled inside me I couldn’t appreciate it.

  “She needs me now. The flower was a sign. I saw a vision.” Flowers were her familiars, and she had gifted me with that orchid. The blood had to be an omen.

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps you saw a manifestation of your fears. Would it provide you with relief if I divined the present using my art?”

  How could I believe anything he said? He would do anything to keep me out of the Raven Court.

  “Shall we ask Pro Ro to divine your mum’s health, then?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” Or I would try on my own.

  He placed a hand on my diaphragm, just below my bra. Some of the tightness in my chest dissipated. As he massaged, I no longer felt the sensation of a fish hook luring me into a magical trap. He was using touch magic to undo his spell.

  My magic. Just as he’d used my magic to bind me to the spell. I was tired of people using my magic against me. Like Julian. Like Derrick. And him.

  I clenched and unclenched my fists, motion returning to me. I tried to shove him away.

  “Remember to use words, not violence, Ms. Lawrence,” Thatch said with a smile.

  If it hadn’t been for him, I’d have left by now. “Stop touching me. I can cure myself.”

  He dipped his head in acquiescence. “Go ahead. Let’s see it.”

  I reached into the well of magic inside me, uncorking the red light swirling in my core. I embraced the essence of cozy thoughts and tactile sensations of pleasure so that I could increase my magic. I pushed that feeling into my limbs. The air smelled of roses as I burned through the binding spell he’d cast over me.

  He’d just taught me how to undo the oath I’d made. A wicked little part of me enjoyed knowing I could use this skill against him if he manipulated me into making an oath for him again.

  “I need you to teach me faster,” I said. “Use that competency potion you made when you took me dancing.”

  He wet his lips, thinking it over. “In four weeks it will be summer vacation. Students will be gone. You’ll have more time to focus on your magic. If we should go now and the Raven Queen keeps you, it would be a shame if this school had to replace the arts and crafts teacher for the last weeks of school.”

  I suspected that was his pitiful attempt at a joke.

  “No. I want you to make that potion and start teaching me now. Every night.” The summer would be too late.

  “It takes two weeks to brew that potion. In that time, will you remain patient? Or are you going to try to leave again?”

  A lot could happen in two weeks. My mom could die in that time. Even in the best scenario, two weeks to brew his potion meant I’d only have another two weeks after that to use the competency potion to increase my skills.

  Still, it was better than nothing.

  “I’ll be patient,” I said.

  From the way he frowned, I suspected he knew I was lying.

  CHAPTER THRE
E

  Those Who Can, Do; Those Who Can’t, Hex

  I had intended to leave that night. I could see the folly in my rashness. For one thing, I didn’t have anything in hand that the Raven Queen wanted. I didn’t actually know how to prove I had solved the Fae Fertility Paradox—which was what she wanted. I wasn’t even sure I had solved it. Vega had.

  Additionally, if I left now, I would be abandoning Maddy. It wasn’t just the Raven Queen who wanted a cure to her fertility problem. Maddy needed me as well.

  Unfortunately, I no longer possessed the notebooks that I’d translated from my biological mother’s diary. They’d “disappeared” in my move to Thatch’s quarters, which meant either he’d found them and destroyed them, or Vega had appropriated them for her own use. That was less likely, considering she’d made her own copies.

  Unless she wanted to keep the knowledge from me. I dreaded confronting her.

  While Thatch was out with Priscilla, taking her hunting in the forest, I searched the dungeon for Alouette Loraline’s diary. I started with the bedroom, checking every single drawer and then pulling out the drawers. I checked in mundane hiding spots, as well as pressing on panels, floorboards, and peeking under the mattress. I used magic-detection spells to make the invisible visible. All I found was an MP3 player Thatch had hidden in the false bottom in his trunk of art supplies.

  The idea of Thatch keeping contraband electronics amused me. Out of curiosity, I used my magic to power up the device to scroll through his music. Most of his music was classical, but he also had soundtracks from musicals I’d never heard of. I recognized the names Fred Astaire, Glenn Miller, and Billie Holiday on one song list. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was music that had been popular when he’d been younger.

  I returned everything the way I’d found it, hoping he didn’t have spells in place that would show I’d been through his belongings. I searched his office, classroom, and the torture museum next. I knew these places were less likely, since he wouldn’t keep the diary somewhere students might find it.