no were to run

by Robyn Peterman

  “Great Emeritus, come to me. As I will, so mote it be.”

  Damien winced as an ear shattering “Caw” filled the room as a giant black raven flew in the window and landed on Jezibaba’s arm.

  “I have a new pupil I would like you to consider,” she said to the raven.

  Damien saw the raven look down at Carol who stared up at him in great fear. The raven turned to Jezibaba and nodded his head, cawing again.

  Then the bird lifted from her arm and transformed into a large black dog with hellhound teeth and red eyes. He landed lightly on the floor and paced around the girl, looking like he was going to eat her. Instead, the creature leaned in and licked the side of Carol’s face with a large tongue.

  “Oh, good. Emeritus has agreed to take you on,” Jezibaba declared, clapping her hands once in great pleasure. “Now pet him. Go on. He’s waiting for a sign of your agreement.”

  Carol looked at Jezibaba and back to the dog thing. “Do I have to pet him?”

  “You were so brave earlier, Carol. Are you now afraid?” Jezibaba challenged.

  “No,” Carol protested, looking back at the waiting animal. She reached out a trembling hand and ran it down the dog’s neck, shivering herself when it shivered under her touch. Whimpering, it turned to look at the Jezibaba.

  “Yes, I know. I told you she was strong,” Jezibaba said, speaking to the hellhound.

  Damien watched the hellhound turn to look at Jezibaba, transforming once more, this time into a large white owl who jumped onto the edge of his lecturing podium.

  Jezibaba bowed her head to the animal and went down to one knee. “Thank you, Great Emeritus. I do realize what I am asking, old friend. If Morgana favors me in my plans, this is the last pupil I will ask you to train.”

  Damien swallowed tightly at the sight they made. The Jezibaba never bowed to anyone—she didn’t have to. The owl bobbed his head to her, then lifted into the air, becoming the giant black raven again before he flew back out of the window.

  Jezibaba rose to her feet. She looked at Damien’s shocked expression before moving to the girl’s equally shocked one.

  “A witch, no matter how powerful, is no match for a creature like Emeritus. He is a guardian of old and you should feel lucky he finds you worthy enough to serve, Child. You have been blessed this day in ways you will not understand until a hundred years from now. I hope you are good to him. Otherwise, Emeritus could bring about your death. He is a stronger believer in balance than I am.”

  Carol turned without prompting and returned to her seat. Damien saw her staring straight ahead. Jezibaba showed no remorse for terrifying the girl beyond anything he’d witnessed done to a student.

  “Now I must go, but I will return soon. Professor—if you will show the warlocks to my room, they will see to it that my things are brought along. Until tomorrow…”

  And just like that, she and Nathaniel were gone from the room. Damien looked around the class at the stunned faces. Their expressions probably mirrored his.

  “Okay. Let’s take a break. Pick a flying spell book from the bookshelves and we’ll try it on one of the brooms later.”

  As the children scrambled, he walked to the window and closed it, sighing with relief that the school day was almost over, but also that Jezibaba said she was returning. She was the first female in the seventy-five years he’d been without a mate to stir in him an urge to seek a physical connection. Since he couldn’t leave the school, it would be a lot easier to explore that strange urge she prompted if the powerful woman remained nearby.

  And he certainly wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to his pure dragon family he was falling for a witch, but he’d figure that one out once he knew if their connection held what their attraction promised.

  Jezibaba or not, the witch was the first female he’d wanted in too long of a damn time. The magic of a dragon’s desire for his female was far stronger than any spell a witch could ever weave. He’d been alone far too long. He would not risk turning away such a gift, even if the female had come into his life through the wicked Goddess, Morgana The Red.

  Chapter 3

  Jezibaba stood before her Goddess appointed employers and crossed her arms to keep from zapping all of them. Killing everyone on the existing Council of Witches would be one sure way of making sure the traitor was taken care of. Only the hassle of having to search for new politicians, rule makers, and money keepers kept her from it. She had faith that she would root out the weed eventually. It was the time required to do so that irritated her.

  Their elected spokesman, an elderly neo-Druid, stood to address her. “Your time is far too valuable to be their guardian, Great One. What if something more important came up and you couldn’t be reached?”

  Jezibaba glared at him. “Nathaniel is blood bound to me. He can call me in an instant. I will always be able to be reached.”

  Before coming to see them, she’d covered her red dress with their butt ugly required black robe… and put on the stupid hat that made her look like some Medieval river dunking reject. The least they could do was listen to her full plan before refusing her outright. Not that the Council’s opinions of her decisions were going to stop her. Her instincts were telling her she was right to be concerned.

  Besides—it wasn’t like she was planning to stay at Witchery U forever. She would stay just until she and Professor Hottie had figured out who was trying to hurt the chosen ones.

  The power of her patron Goddess, Morgana the Red, rose in her as she stared them down.

  “Would you just rather I incarcerate the entire Council of Witches for the next fifty years until the children come of age and can protect themselves? It is within my jurisdiction to lock up all of you to protect those girls.”

  The entire assembly of Council members went silent and blinked at her. It was a delicious moment. She wrinkled her forehead and tilted her chin up as she pretended deep thought.

  “Of course, I wouldn’t turn any Council member into a toad. That would preclude torturing each member until my warlocks and I can determine who the would-be murderer is,” she added.

  The murmuring got louder as those around the speaker tugged on his matching butt ugly robe. She struggled not to smirk. He nodded to his cohorts and looked back to her.

  “We concede your plan is better,” Head Councilman admitted.

  Her arms uncrossed and fell to her sides. Her pleased smile swept the crowd.

  “Good. Now that’s settled, you can all start thinking about how best to determine who among you is trying to kill my successors. You might want to warn him or her that I’m very, very unhappy with this disruption of the hard-won peace I’ve given more than three hundred years of my life to making happen. When I find the betrayer, he or she will die. If the dragons don’t kill him or her first.”

  “Dragons? What dragons?” the Head Councilman demanded.

  “The headmaster of Witchery U has dragon guardians hiding among the faculty and staff. Dragons live for thousands of years. They don’t want the status quo among magicals to change. My complaint is that their help is a bit heavy handed. They’ve already ashed an attempted assassin without bothering to find out who in Morgana’s name sent him. Why else would I want to get involved? The dragons can fend off assailants all day long. I want to find the source and get rid of the problem.”

  There was another round of worried grumbling. The Head Councilman held up his hand to silence it.

  “Knowing dragons are involved, your plan to oversee the children’s training makes a lot more sense. You are the most well-suited witch for such as task.”

  Jezibaba nodded. “Yes. I’m the only witch living who’s immune to dragon fire. The chosen ones could get accidently cooked if they get in the middle of a bunch of warrior dragons trying to kill a single vampire assassin in bat form. Protectors have been appointed, but those connections have not yet been tested.”

  “Fine. Dragons being involved elevates this matter to one requiring your intervention. Go
with our blessing then, Oh Great One,” the Head Councilman said.

  Jezibaba nearly sighed when she saw the entire table of heads finally nodding. They lifted their hands and she felt magical approval directed her way. However, she knew a traitor was still among those staring at her.

  More than ready to take her leave, Jezibaba raised her hands to bestow her blessing.

  “May the Goddess continue

  her watch over thee.

  As I will this day,

  so mote it be.”

  “So mote it be,” they all echoed in reply.

  Turning Jezibaba saw Nathaniel’s gaze remained on the table of thirteen Council members. He watched a few more seconds, then turned to follow her out of the room. Wards within the room prevented taking their immediate leave. They would have to do so from outside the building.

  As they exited, she made a mental note to ask Nathaniel later what he had seen in their energy that had caused such a strange look on his face.

  ***

  Jezibaba looked around the room and sighed. She had closets bigger than this in all her houses. Being a smart, long-lived witch, she had wisely invested in real estate over the years. But you’d never know it, looking at the twin bed and the lonely wooden chair sitting by it. For Goddess sake, there wasn’t even a tattered rug on the floor. Her warlocks lived liked monks and had some pretty wacky ideas about austerity making them more powerful. She should have known better than to put her living arrangements in their hands.

  Stepping to the doorway, she gauged the room size, which couldn’t be changed, and envisioned the best arrangement she could come up with for the tiny space. Sighing, she pulled her portable wand from its special compartment in her bra and extended it to full size. Bestowing the familiars had been taxing on her magic and now she needed to rest her hands. That was happening more and more lately.

  Holding her decorating ideas in her mind, she waved the wand over the room and refused to feel bad for needing props.

  “Inhabitus ebay maximus,” she invoked.

  Amidst the resulting gold glitter shower raining from the ceiling, upgraded furniture and a much larger bed replaced what she’d had before. She waited for the glitter mist to dissipate, then walked back into the room. It was more crowded, but at least her long legs wouldn’t hang off the queen sized bed when she slept.

  “Wow. Can you repeat that spell on my room?” Damien asked, watching her smooth the rich purple covers.

  Jezibaba turned slowly to the doorway, which was difficult because her pulse drummed in excitement just hearing his voice.

  “There is always an exchange for using this kind of power. Over time, I’ve learned how to direct it to my existing belongings. The bed came from my summer house in Cape Cod. The chair came from a condo I own in California. The meager furnishings have simply swapped places with the ones you see.”

  She tilted her head as she studied the envy on his face.

  “Tell me professor—do you have the wealth to support making this kind of change to your living space? If you don’t, people you love could die to leave you enough money and possessions to make a spell like the one I did come true.”

  Damien smiled. “I’ve been afraid to try such a spell for fear of doing it wrong and hurting someone. However, being a dragon, I do have a nice horde so I could easily furnish all the bedrooms in this facility with my possessions. Maybe I’ll experiment with changing just the bed. I need a bigger one than you conjured. Don’t be jealous, but the headmaster’s quarters are much bigger.”

  Jezibaba smirked, then huffed indignantly because Professor Hottie seemed to expect it. She caught herself smoothing her black robe before realizing she hadn’t yet changed out of it. Nathaniel had been eerily silent on their trip back and hadn’t reminded her. She’d opted to give him space to think. She would grill him when her own energy normalized.

  “What did you do this afternoon? Attend a funeral?” Damien joked, inching into the room uninvited.

  Jezibaba plucked at the black cloth. “Worse. I appeared before the Council of Witches,” she sneered. “I had to threaten them so they would agree to let me do this. I get last say, but in three hundred years I’ve learned life is a lot easier if they stay in agreement with me. The robe is my concession to the asshat-ery of their dress code for such meetings.”

  Damien hovered a few feet away, shoving one hand in his pants pocket. “I came to see if you’d returned… and to ask if you’d like to go to dinner. We could talk through some things.”

  “Like the fact we want to jump each other and do the nasty?” Jezibaba demanded with a laugh, folding the robe. She whispered her stow away spell and it disappeared.

  Damien nodded and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I might have phrased our attraction a little less crudely.”

  Jezibaba chuckled. “You’re being modest, Professor Smoke. I think we both know you would have made our lust sound like a prize winning poem worthy of a textbook. That’s not my style. You’re more apt to find quotes about my lovemaking written on bathroom walls.”

  “I take it you’re not a fan of intellectual men then,” Damien concluded, shoving his hands in his pockets again, mostly to keep them off her.

  Jezibaba knew she’d disappointed him with her honesty. That happened to her a lot, especially with men. She shook her head and smiled to soften her words.

  “I’m just old and jaded. Courting with poetry lost its charm for me after the first century I spent sleeping with men who didn’t mean a damn word they uttered. I appreciate your intellect just as much as I do the way you fill out your clothes with all those nice muscles you’re hiding from your students. Both are equally appealing—but I’m sure you knew that already.”

  Damien frowned. “Now I’m confused. Is that an invitation to throw you down on your conjured bed and do what I’ve been dying to do to your body since the moment I saw you? I can’t tell.”

  “Why Professor Hottie, you sound offended. Not used to a woman standing her ground during your pursuit of her?”

  “No, quite the opposite. Before she died, my mate burned all the hair off my head during the last argument we had.” Damien snorted as what she’d called him got through his irritation. “Professor Hottie? Is that how you think of me?”

  Jezibaba groaned at her slip. She closed her eyes, laughed, and shook her head. “Yes. It’s been a very long day and my tongue refuses to obey my brain.”

  Damien considered her confession, enjoyed her discomfort, and then shrugged. “I’ll pretend to forget it if you’ll have dinner with me.”

  “Hmm… dragons don’t usually play so nice. Most I’ve met were arrogant assholes. You surprise me, Professor Smoke. My instincts don’t know what to think about you.”

  “I was in a throw-you-down-on-the-bed frame of mind before I figured out who you were,” Damien explained. “Even after I knew, that aspect of my feelings for you didn’t change. I’m being careful on purpose. Not being a master magic wielder, I don’t want my hottie ass handed to me because I got fresh with the most powerful witch who’s ever lived. I thought I’d play my interest off a tad bit cooler than that until I was sure of my welcome.”

  Jezibaba grinned. “So my posse of seven warlocks all dressed in butt-ugly black robes didn’t clue you in about who I was? Even now there’s at least three of them in the hallway guarding my room. There is no such thing as a private moment in my life. It can put a real damper on an amorous encounter.”

  Damien rubbed his chin. “Yes, I saw the ones in the hall, but I didn’t notice the warlocks when you arrived. I never saw anything then but a beautiful woman with great legs wearing a gorgeous red dress that showed a lot of cleavage. Thinking about burning it off you has been a constantly reoccurring fantasy all damn day, but I know better than to rush any female I desire. I was married for over a century.”

  Jezibaba sighed. Her defenses were down. Or maybe she didn’t have many where Damien Smoke was concerned. “I’m having enough trouble with this job as it
is. I don’t want to be here. I’m here because I have no choice. Having you as a lover would be a very big distraction, Professor.”

  “The big part is accurate,” Damien admitted, grinning at her feminine giggle. “But I doubt you let anything or anyone distract you for long. You wouldn’t have survived all this time if you had.”

  Jezibaba met his gaze and nodded. “You are absolutely correct.”

  He held her gaze and smiled. “So come to dinner, call me Damien, and let’s be friends. Our goal is the same. Carol and Hildy need to be protected so they can grow up as normal as possible, which for those two will be a hard enough challenge. They don’t need to worry about people trying to kill them all the time in addition to learning to deal with their own eccentricities.”

  Jezibaba sighed and nodded. “When the Council of Witches announced the public caldron had shown them my potential successors, I was giddy with the news. I filled out retirement forms and started making vacation plans. Then Nathaniel consulted the Fates and they laughed at his question. Despite all the hell I’ve been through, now I have to watch over children who may or may not make it to adulthood. Even if they live, it could be another fifty to a hundred years before those two are ready to serve. My life isn’t changing any time soon. Now on top of all that bad news—I’m officially babysitting.”