A Handful of Hexes

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A Handful of Hexes Page 28

by Sarina Dorie


  I flinched away. “He’s the one who told me not to thank people for things. It makes me indebted to them.”

  “That’s only for Fae.”

  “And Witchkin descended from Fae, which is everyone I know.”

  She clucked her tongue. “No wonder he was so angry.”

  “No. That wasn’t the only reason. It wasn’t the worst thing I did. I kissed him.” I flopped down on the bed and covered my face with my hands. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. He had just healed me, and his face was close to mine.” I couldn’t explain how my affinity worked to her. It was dangerous for her to know Thatch and I were both Reds and he supercharged my electrons, or whatever it was that had happened. “I kissed him, and he got mad. He hates me.”

  “No, he doesn’t hate you. He cares about you. I just don’t think he’s ready for a relationship.”

  “It’s because I’m Loraline’s daughter. He sees me, and he thinks about her. He was in love with her once, and she was horrible to him, and now he thinks I’ll use him.”

  “Probably.”

  I groaned and rolled onto my side away from her. She wasn’t supposed to agree with me.

  She smoothed a hand over my hair. “I imagine he has quite a bit of conflict inside him.”

  “Do you think the rumor is true? That he was my mother’s lover?” It was easy to forget he’d graduated in the thirties when he looked so young. “Do you think that’s why he doesn’t want to get involved with me? He said he wasn’t my father, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved with Loraline.”

  “He was her student, wasn’t he? I wouldn’t doubt he had a crush on her. She was an alluring woman who bewitched many. That doesn’t mean they were involved. I suspect his professionalism holds him back.” She sighed and stroked my back. “There’s something else. Something he asked me not to tell you. But I think … well, it might be important.”

  I sat up, all ears. Mom had more secrets than a CIA agent. She rarely shared them with me.

  “You can’t repeat what I’m about to tell you.”

  I crossed my heart. “I won’t tell a soul.”

  She cleared her throat. “That time I caught Felix Thatch trying to drain you in the psychologist’s office, he told me he was the one who gave you to me. I thought it was a lie. It had been an old woman who brought you to me. And even if it had been him in disguise, what did it matter? I’d known the woman had been heavily glamoured. If he had brought you to me, it didn’t give him the right to try to drain you.”

  I followed her story, trying to remember the day Thatch had tried to drain me. It had been years before. So many memories from my youth were now cloaked in fuzziness from all the potions she’d used to erase my memories. I did remember him claiming to have brought me to my mother.

  “I didn’t believe Mr. Thatch, not until he called me on the phone. This was just a few months ago, when that man attacked you and burned you.” She said it casually, like people attacked me all the time, and this was no big deal. She still didn’t know I was the one who had burned myself. “Mr. Thatch called me up and introduced himself. I already knew who he was. Only, I hadn’t realized you would be working at the school with him. I thought he was more of a recruiting agent. Hearing he was your colleague in itself nearly gave me a heart attack. He told me you were hurt, and he wanted me to come to the school. I thought it was a lie, some kind of trick to lure me there, to use me to get to you.

  “I didn’t want to imagine you being hurt, but already my mind was racing with new worries. After all the trouble we’d had with him over the years, I didn’t trust him. That’s when he told me the story of how he brought you to me. He described it in such detail, I feared he was reading my mind.” Her brow crinkled, revealing a fine map of wrinkles as she traveled back through time to the worries of that moment.

  I hated to see her anxious over me.

  “He explained that he had to disguise himself so no one would connect you back to Loraline. He didn’t want people to know she had a daughter.

  “At the time he brought you to me, I wouldn’t have recognized Mr. Thatch. I only knew him by name. I knew he had been tortured by Loraline and then arrested as her supposed accomplice. His name was later cleared, and he went searching for her with the rest of them. No one could blame him for wanting revenge.

  “‘Why would you rescue this child?’ I asked. ‘Your enemy’s child?’”

  I held my breath, waiting for the answer. Please don’t say it’s because he’s my father. He’d already told me he wasn’t, but his rejection would make so much more sense if he was. Or maybe it would just make it hurt less.

  “‘I made a promise,’ he said. ‘Before any of this happened, Alouette made me give her my word that if she ever had a child, I would never allow her to fall into the hands of the Fae. I would keep her safe from the Raven Queen and ensure she was loved and raised like a normal child.’”

  Warmth suffused through me at those words. I’d never known he was that noble. He’d made a promise, and even though Alouette Loraline had betrayed him, he’d still kept it. All those times I thought he had wanted to drain me out of vengeance, his true motivation had been to protect me. He must have felt so conflicted.

  It made me appreciate him even more. My heart ached with yearning.

  Mom wasn’t done yet. From the pained expression on her face, I feared the bad news was coming, that she was about to reveal the true reason he would never be interested in me. I prayed he wasn’t my father.

  “He told me, ‘I would never wish the fate that befell my sisters upon my enemy’s child.’”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Who’s Your Daddy?

  Relief flooded through me that Felix Thatch wasn’t my biological father, followed by heartache as I considered his loss. He didn’t have family any longer.

  I had been so sure Thatch had hated me, and only recently had I cracked through the ice of his exterior—only for his armor to reform more strongly than ever tonight. Was what my fairy godmother said the reason? He couldn’t lose one more person after what the Raven Queen had done to Odette and Priscilla.

  His promise to Alouette Loraline led me to believe he didn’t want to touch me because he thought of me as his ward. It was so unfair. And yet … kind of sweet. He’d protected me when he could have left me to die—on multiple occasions.

  “Wow!” I said.

  Mom put a finger to her lips. “Shh. You’ll wake the girls.”

  I lowered my voice. “Does that make him my fairy godfather?”

  “Not necessarily. He appointed me as your guardian because he couldn’t fulfill that duty without raising suspicion. He couldn’t keep you safe as his charge. More than that, I suspect he didn’t trust himself not to keep his prejudices to himself.”

  My jaw dropped.

  Her eyebrows rose, her expression disapproving. “I didn’t know this until he told me, but apparently he used to observe you at school to see if you were fitting in and to see if your magic remained suppressed.”

  I nodded. The dreaded visits from the school-district psychologist. Never once had he hinted that he might be there because he cared. Instead, he’d been formidable and distant. Like he was still.

  “Mr. Thatch couldn’t serve as your guardian, so he scoured the land until he found a suitable proxy to serve in his stead. The only Witchkin he found that met his high standards was me.” Mom held herself taller, proud of the compliment. “He observed how your father and I were raising Missy and knew you would be treated with love and kindness. He selected us because he wanted the best for you. Those times he’d tried to barge in here, when he’d wanted to drain your powers, hadn’t been because he’d wanted to hurt you. He wanted you to be safe. He couldn’t keep covering up what your powers did. The Fae had noticed.”

  Thatch had chosen the best mom for me, the family he never had himself. Gratitude overflowed from my heart. I wished I could have thanked him righ
t then.

  “Over the phone when Mr. Thatch told me about all this, he apologized for his zealousness. Now that you knew who your biological mother was, there was no reason to keep it a secret from me anymore. He was … hesitant to tell you these details, though. He didn’t want it to affect your work relationship. It really isn’t my place to tell you—and don’t you dare let on you know—or he’ll never forgive me. He’s a very private man.”

  “Wow,” I said. All along I’d had a certain image of who I believed Felix Thatch was and why he behaved as he did. I felt completely turned around.

  “You see, then, why he wouldn’t want to kiss you, don’t you?” she asked. “He takes his duty as looking after you quite seriously, even if he doesn’t want you to know about it. He must feel paternal toward you. He does care about you, deeply, but maybe not … romantically.”

  As usual, I’d fallen for some guy who had no romantic interest in me. I was as bad as Josie Kimura fawning for Khaba.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The Spirit of Christmas

  I woke at six in the morning, wishing my internal alarm clock wouldn’t have betrayed me. Even on my days off I couldn’t sleep in anymore. I tiptoed to the kitchen, finding all three girls already awake and dressed.

  “We didn’t wake you, did we?” Maddy asked. “We were trying to be quiet.”

  “Thanks. You did a great job,” I said. “Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast? I can pour you some cereal.” That was the quietest option.

  The girls exchanged guilty smiles.

  “We ate some cookies,” Imani whispered.

  “And pie,” Hailey added.

  “When can we open presents?” Maddy asked. “Can I give you mine now?”

  “Let’s wait until my mom wakes up.”

  I started the coffee maker at six fifty. Mom was up at seven. They didn’t even let her get dressed. Cup of coffee in one hand, Mom allowed Maddy to tug her into the living room. Mom smiled groggily at me. I couldn’t remember if my sister and I had been like this on Christmas.

  We took turns opening presents. My mom had bought me everything on my art teacher wish list: an assortment of art supplies that ranged from sets of watercolors to pint jars of tempera paint to pads of paper. They were all things I could share with my students.

  “Thank you! This is just what I needed. It’s going to make teaching so much easier,” I gushed.

  “Make sure you take some time to do some art for yourself,” Mom said. “We don’t want you getting burned out.” She nodded to Imani. “You need to insist my daughter does some fun homework for herself.”

  Imani nodded vigorously. I hugged my mom.

  Prior to Christmas Eve, Imani had joined me on shopping excursions around town. I had bought my mom a gift certificate to a local nursery as well as a few healthy snacks from some of the specialty health food shops I knew she liked.

  She held up a bag of kale chips, snickering at that one. “I’m so lucky you don’t hate me for all those kale smoothies I used to make for you.”

  “Why would I hate you? I was the one who agreed not to use my powers.” Only, those smoothies hadn’t completely masked my innate talents or made me forget what I was. I had tried to fit in to the Morty Realm, but now I was glad I had found another way.

  I’d bought art sets of colored pencils, pastels, and watercolors for Imani and Maddy and gave Hailey the pack of stationery. My mom had purchased black sweaters for Imani and Maddy that would match their school uniforms. I didn’t mind that she gave the sweater she’d intended to give to me to Hailey instead. She also gave them potted plants, an orchid and a philodendron from her greenhouse, to each of them. Maddy gifted everyone bookmarks she’d made out of pressed flowers—probably from my mom’s greenhouse. Imani had drawn everyone pretty pictures in colored pencils.

  Hailey stared at her lap, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t know I was going to be coming here for Christmas until yesterday. I didn’t get anything for anyone.”

  “That’s all right,” I said. Even if she had known, I don’t know how she could have afforded to buy anything. Nor was Hailey particularly crafty—that went for arts and crafts and witchcraft.

  “Christmas isn’t about presents,” Mom said, hugging Hailey around the shoulder. “It’s about being with the people you love.”

  Hailey rewarded her with a small smile. “This was a really nice Christmas. Probably the best one I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

  “There’s still two presents left!” Imani said, missing the point my mom had been trying to make. “This one is for Professor Thatch. From Santa.”

  I tore that one out of her hands and replaced it under the green skirt of the tree. “That’s for later.”

  The girls giggled.

  “Too bad everyone we love can’t be here today,” Maddy teased.

  Mom clucked her tongue. “Girls. What did we talk about yesterday?”

  “Beeswax,” Imani said dejectedly.

  “Mind your own beeswax” was what my mom used to say when I’d been a kid and Missy and I had been nosy about something.

  I crawled under the tree, sliding out the last present, the one I’d hidden under the back of the skirt. The finale for the morning.

  “There’s one more present for you, Hailey,” I said.

  Hailey’s eyes went wide. The package was nearly as tall as she was, but as thin as a book. She tore the paper open. I’d done my best to disguise the shape of her present by making it into a long, flat rectangle. She pulled the broom out by the plastic handle. Her cheeks flushed. It was a standard kitchen broom, not a magical one enchanted to fly.

  Maddy snickered.

  Imani fell back onto the floor, squealing. “Will that thing even take off from the ground?”

  Hailey smiled, but her lips were pressed tight. She looked from me to the girls, her eyes narrowing. She probably thought it was a joke and that I was making fun of her.

  “Read the card,” I suggested.

  Hailey patted through the papers around her, not trying very hard. Maddy grabbed the card from the scraps on the floor. Hailey tore it from her hands and read it. I wondered if I’d used simple enough words for her to read. Her literacy skills had been improving, but I hadn’t thought about her reading level when I’d written the card at eleven at night.

  She mouthed the words, pausing when she came to something difficult.

  “Do you want help?” Imani asked, leaning over her shoulder.

  “No. Get out of my face, or I’ll move it for you.”

  “Whoa!” I said. “Not okay. Use polite language.”

  “Excuse me,” Hailey said with mock manners. “Please get your face out of my beeswax.”

  We all enjoyed that one.

  Hailey continued reading. She looked up at me. “Do you mean it? You’re going to buy me a new broom?” I’d never seen such hope in her eyes.

  I nodded. “I’m sorry I don’t have the real thing for you. I want to ask Coach Kutchi advice on models first.”

  “Miss Lawrence!” She jumped to her feet, tripping over Lucifer. The cat yowled and ran off. Hailey threw her arms around me. “Thank you! This is the best Christmas ever! I didn’t have to spend it in the detention room. And someone gave me a present. A real present. It wasn’t just a lump of coal from Professor Thatch this year.” She squeezed me so hard I could barely breathe. She was inches taller than me, and as she bent to rest her head on my shoulder, her tears soaked into my collar.

  “Come on, girls,” Mom whispered to Imani and Maddy. “Let’s talk about breakfast options. Pancakes? Eggs? Pie?”

  They left us alone while Hailey cried. “I promise I’ll be good. I won’t ever try to blackmail you again.”

  I patted her arm. “I hope not.”

  “You’re the best teacher ever. I’ll be just like you and try to be a good person.”

  “Please don’t try to be just like me.” This was starting to get embarrassing
. “I make a lot of mistakes that I wouldn’t want you to make.”

  “Miss Bloodmire says you have to make mistakes, because if you don’t, you won’t learn from them. So if you make a lot of mistakes, it makes you really smart.”

  Vega had said that? For once, this wasn’t actually bad advice.

  Hailey wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her new black sweater. “You don’t understand how much this means to me. I really would do anything for you. Whenever someone says something bad about you, I’ll punch them.”

  “Really, that’s unnecessary.”

  Only Thatch’s present remained under the tree.

  Thatch arrived promptly at five in the evening just as he’d said he would. He didn’t come in the house, even when I waved at him from the kitchen window. He stood outside, the metal tin that had contained cookies under one arm. He stared at the roof. His lips moved, and he made a spiral gesture with one hand. Whatever kind of magic he was doing, I couldn’t see it.

  I made him a cup of cocoa and brought it out. He continued chanting and weaving his magic. I waited for him to finish his spell.

  “Some of your mother’s wards were deteriorated,” he said at last. “I need to speak with Mrs. Lawrence about that.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I said, handing him the steaming mug.

  “Bah humbug.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

  I laughed. “Come inside. We have goodies for you.”

  “I’m above such temptations. I don’t need goodies.” Even so, he followed me inside. He picked out a caramel pecan brownie.

  “Oh no!” Imani said, seeing him. “Mr. Thatch is here already!”

  “Nice to see you too, you ungrateful little brat,” he said.

  My mom swatted him playfully in the arm. “They’re just sorry they have to go so soon.”

  “Do we really have to go right now?” Maddy asked. She looked to me with a forlorn expression.

  “Yes,” Thatch said. “After I have a few words with Mrs. Lawrence.”

  Mom steered Thatch toward the table. I was surprised he didn’t draw away when she touched him. Perhaps he only did that with me.

 

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