Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Erin Hayes

  “What good would that do?” Adira asked, crossing her arms. “We can’t get to them.”

  “It’s been hundreds of years, Adira. We don’t know what we can do. Communication is always relevant.” Anastazie flipped the radio over and pointed to a symbol on the back. “This was the rune that powered the object originally.”

  Adira shook her head. “Well, even the Regent can’t restore runes.”

  The girl nodded. “Right. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Besides, we can still re-enchant them, even if we can’t restore the rune for the enchantment to power itself.”

  “Okay,” Adira said, taking the radio from the girl’s hand. “So you mean to tell me we can enchant objects without runes.”

  The girl snatched the radio back. “Yes. But it’s temporary.” She set the radio on the table. “No one can get the radio to do anything, though, so let’s try something simpler.”

  Adira picked up the radio again. “I thought you said just because something hasn’t been done doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try?”

  “Fine. Do you have any spell ideas to reanimate the radio? Because I don’t.”

  Adira set the radio down again. “Point taken.”

  “The first step is always figuring out why the object doesn’t work anymore,” Anastazie said, this time lifting a spinning top from the table. “It’s always going to be one of two things: either it’s not enchanted more, and we have to find out why, or there’s another enchantment blocking it, and we have to find out how to remove it.”

  “Like the boarded up windows.”

  Anastazie smiled. “Miss Balek gets us all with that when we arrive. I’m the only one who’s gotten out.”

  Adira raised her eyebrow. “How?”

  “Magic, of course!” The girl beamed and grinned coyly. “I can get out of anything. It’s my special gift—everyone has one, if they figure it out. But don’t expect me to tell you all my secrets. A girl’s gotten keep her edge around here.”

  It was at that moment reality crashed into Adira. They had all come here at some point, for some reason. But Anastazie was young. What happened to her parents?

  She pressed her lips together, thinking it best not to pry. If the girl wanted people to know, she would talk about it in her own time.

  “Tell me about the top,” Adira said.

  Anastazie nodded. “We found out it actually spins out energy, when it’s working. So you can sort of create a protective bubble around you. The faster it spins, the farther out the bubble goes. The longer is spins, the longer the bubble stays in place. Of course, the stronger the witch is, the longer she can keep the top spinning.

  “Sounds useful.”

  “Yeah,” she said, a note of whimsy in her voice. “No one can get it to spin very long, and the second anyone tries to use another enchantment with it, it stops. But it could be really useful if a witch could learn to hold its protection while fighting at the same time.”

  “And if we really restored it, it could spin itself?”

  “That’s the idea,” Anastazie said.

  The little girl spun the top, but without any enchantment and it spun and spun in its own natural way until finally it slowed and rolled back to its side.

  Anastazie turned back to Adira. “Anyway, I guess you can start with this one. Hold your hand out over it. If you feel a pull, it has a negative charge. If you feel a push, it has a positive charge.”

  Oh.

  Oh!

  “Oh my God!” Adira’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God, Anastazie! That’s it!”

  “What’s it?”

  “An enchantment on an enchantment gives a negative charge. Humans are a negative charge.”

  “Huh?”

  Adira waved her off. Anastazie probably hadn’t seen the new witch testing device yet. No matter. This was great. If Adira could get herself to register as a negative charge, that would be perfect.

  “Okay, so, how do we put these enchantments on enchantments?”

  “We don’t,” the little girl said. “We remove them, at least temporarily, so that the objects can be re-enchanted. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

  “I have,” Adira said. “And you’ve been a great teacher.” She gave the top a whirl. “But let’s say we did want to do it…to put a block on something like one of these objects. How would we do that?”

  Anastazie stopped the top from spinning. “We don’t. We can’t. We shouldn’t anyway. Half of the mess in this world is because stronger witches of the past did just that. We need to undo that. Not do more of it. So just get that idea out of your head and focus on the top. If you get a pull, that’s negative energy. Remove the block. If you get a push, it’s positively charged and you don’t need to remove anything to re-enchant it. Got it?”

  “Crystal clear,” Adira mumbled.

  She held her hand over the top. A negative charge. She studied it longer, though, wanting to understand it from the inside out. Someone had done this. It could be done.

  “Well?” Anastazie pried.

  “Negative, right?”

  “Right,” she said. “Now remove it. It will re-enchant until you let go, or until your magic slips.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “It’s different for everyone. I say výtah. You could try that.”

  Lift. Makes sense.

  Adira focused on the top. “Výtah.”

  Nothing.

  “Výtah!”

  Ugh. This was the plywood board all over again. Wasn’t knowing what to do supposed to fix that?

  Anastazie put her hand on Adira’s forearm. “It’s okay. Yours will just be another word. What’s the first word that comes to mind?”

  Adira tried a few.

  Odstranit. Remove.

  Rozptýlit. Dissipate. This time, the top wobbled a little on its own.

  So close.

  Finally, Adira got it right with Rozpustit. Dissolve. The top whipped into action.

  “You did it!” Anastazie cheered.

  A wide smile pulled at Adira’s cheeks as the top spun faster and faster, a faint blue glow emanating from the object, spreading farther and farther out.

  Soon, a few of the other witches gathered around.

  Erik came over to observe, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses on the slope of his nose. “Impressive,” he said. “Try fueling it.”

  “No,” Anastazie said. “It’s too soon. She’ll lose it.”

  “Come on,” Erik continued, coming up beside Adira and placing his hand on her shoulder. There was something almost intimate about his touch, something that unnerved Adira, but she shook it off. He was just trying to help. “Come on, Adira. Fuel it!”

  She bit her lip and focused her own inner energy toward the object. The top spun faster. The bubble spread out wider, almost encompassing the entire room.

  Everything went silent, and Adira slowly lifted her gaze to see everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing and were watching her now.

  “What’s going on,” she whispered to Erik.

  “You are,” he whispered back.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t think anyone does,” he said quietly. “Because no one has ever gotten the bubble past the table before.”

  Someone from the back of the crowd yelled. “Do more!”

  Miss Balek was watching now, a smile glowing on her face.

  The kids and adults in the room alike started chanting. “Do more! Do more! Do more!”

  “Go on,” Erik said. “See if you can manipulate another object. That boomerang over there doesn’t have a negative charge, so you can send it out.” He pointed across the room. “There. Hit that target.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head. The bubble shrunk in a little just at the thought of it.

  “Yes,” the witch boy said. “You can.”

  The bubble ebbed and flowed, but overall, kept a steady distance. Adira blew out a slow breath and reached her other hand out
toward the boomerang.

  “Létat,” she commanded. Fly.

  It was the first word that came to mind, because that’s how she felt. She felt as if she were flying. And it worked. The boomerang lifted from the table and began to spin. As it twisted faster, the edges caught fire. Adira gasped, then smiled at Erik.

  “The target,” he whispered. “You can do this.”

  Adira threw her arm to the side, sending the boomerang careening toward the target. When it crashed against the bullseye, the room erupted in cheers. Slowly, she released the spinning top, but before she could take a breather, Anastazie crashed into her with a hug.

  “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever, ever seen!” she said, squeezing Adira’s waist. “You’re incredible!”

  Adira rested her hand against the girls back to give her a half hug back. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then, even quieter, so low that no one else would be able to hear, she added, “But I’m afraid of what it all means.”

  Adira did sleep that night—a nightmarish haze that occurred between sundown and sunup. When she woke, the spinning top was on her nightstand along with a note written in what she had come to recognize as Miss Balek’s handwriting.

  “I think you’re on to something,” the note read.

  She tucked the top into her pants. On to what, though. Did Miss Balek think she could put an enchantment on herself to block the witch testing device? She only had nine days left to figure all this out. So she was the strongest witch here. That didn’t mean she should be the Regent’s Queen.

  Did it?

  What if Alec was right? What if she owed this much to her Sector? To at least try to save them?

  None of it mattered. Her fate had been decided for her. Whether she wanted to or not, she would face a Ravager, and if she won, she would be the next Doomed Queen.

  One battle at a time.

  For now, she needed to focus on her abilities. Those witches downstairs had been training since their youth, and Adira hadn’t received any real guidance until recently. She’d proven she wasn’t too old to learn, but she was still definitely at a disadvantage, even if she had great natural ability.

  Fact was, being stronger than a room full of child witches didn’t mean much in the scheme of things. She needed to be stronger than a Ravager and at least as strong as the Regent. That was a whole different playing field.

  After pulling a brush through her tangles, she hurried downstairs to the training room. She burst through the doors, expecting to find it as full and bustling as the day before. She could really use that energy right about now.

  Instead, when she entered, only Miss Balek stood there.

  “Where is everyone?” Adira asked.

  “I gave them the day off,” she said. “You need to focus, and you can’t focus with all that hullaboo over a few parlor tricks.”

  Ouch.

  Miss Balek waved her off. “Don’t pity yourself now. There’s too much work to do and too much at stake. You are strong, yes, but you are yet to use your magic under opposition, and that is what you need to work on. So I’ve brought in an adequate sparring partner for you.”

  Adira looked around, but didn’t see anyone else in the room. “Who?”

  “Me,” came a deep, intimidating voice from behind her. She recognized it immediately. Alec.

  She spun around, trying to suppress the smile that wanted so badly to spring at her face. Instead of his usual attire of…just pants…he wore only shorts today, showing off not only his sculpted arms and stomach, but some pretty serious calf muscles as well. It was as if the man was made of stone.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” she said to hide the pitter patter in her stomach. “I thought it would be someone good.”

  “Please excuse us, Miss Balek,” Alec said, unwavering to Adira’s tease.

  Miss Balek gave a small dip of her head and a polite smile, then took leave from the room.

  Alec advanced on Adira. When he reached her, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her at the bottom of her spine, then backed her up against a wall.

  “So now I’m no good?” he asked huskily.

  Adira’s heart throttled, and heat shot through her body, lighting her up with sudden arousal unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  “I was just teasing,” she whispered.

  He kissed her until she moaned against his lips, then pulled away.

  “Rule number one. I do the teasing,” he said, releasing her and heading toward one of the chalk circles. “Rule number two. Never insult your sparring partner.”

  With that, he lifted a wooden sword from the ground for himself, then another that he tossed to Adira.

  She caught the sword with her bad hand, passed it to her right hand, and twirled it around. “What’s this for?”

  “Stop being coy and get over here,” Alec ordered.

  Adira crossed the room to the circle. Alec took a fighting stance, but Adira stood straight, watching him. He was bigger and stronger. An impossible match for her without magic. She couldn’t let him intimidate her, though. With nine days left, she needed to remember all she had learned, and then build on it.

  That meant intellect over emotion.

  She waited for his advance, then deflected his blow, spun away, and sliced the wooden sword through the air to connect with his leg.

  His eyes lit up, and he lunged for her again. As he swept his sword toward her, she jumped, whispering a quick, “levitovat” to levitate high enough to evade the blow.

  “I guess I don’t have to go easy on you after all,” he said.

  “Good.” She tumbled toward him and came up right in front of him with a thrust of her wooden sword against his arm. “Maybe it’s me who has to go easy on you?”

  Alec dropped his sword, snatched her wrist, and spun her around. Then he gave her ass a hard spank and shoved her to the other side of circle. “Don’t let down your guard,” he scolded. “It makes you vulnerable.”

  Her cheeks were on fire, and she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or arousal, but she didn’t let that stop her. “How do we know who wins?”

  “I do,” he said evenly. “I always do.”

  “Very funny,” she said. She raised her hand and shot it toward Alec’s sword. “Popel!”

  Ash. Same end result of fire, but without the heat. The wooden sword disintegrated in Alec’s hand.

  “I was hoping you would do that,” he said. He reached behind him and unsheathed his sword. “Now what?”

  Adira glowered at him. “That’s cheating. You can’t use a sword blessed by the Regent.”

  He lunged toward her, and she jumped out of the way, but not before he nicked her leg. “There is no cheating in war, Adira. There is live, and there is die.”

  “This is a sparring match, asshole.”

  He swung at her again. This time she dodged the blow. “This is a sparring match to prepare you for the real thing,” he said. “Now fight back.”

  “Fine,” she said. She had to levitate away from another blow before she was able to devise a plan, but at least she was getting better at her defense. “Ocel!”

  Steel.

  She blocked the next blow of his sword with her wooden one, wincing with uncertainty. But it worked. Not even a scratch on the wood sparring sword. Alec’s eyes went wide.

  “I see you aren’t afraid to take risks, at least.”

  “You already knew that,” she said, diving toward him. She spun low, her sword thwacking against his shin. “How will you explain your wounds to the Regent?”

  He swept her legs from under her with his foot, sending her crashing to the ground with a painful thud, then pressed the tip of his sword to her throat.

  “You know what your problem is?” he asked. “You waste your words on banter instead of magic. If this were a real battle, you would be dead.”

  “Would I?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

  He pressed his sword against her throat a little harder, as if to mak
e a point.

  “Dokonalá láska a dokonalá důvěra,” she said. Perfect love and perfect trust. “You can’t kill me. Not with that sword.”

  Again he pressed harder, enough that he should have broken skin. But nothing happened.

  Alec dropped his sword. “What did you do?”

  “I changed the enchantment on your sword.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “Change it back, Adira. You can’t alter the Regent’s magic! Don’t you think he’ll notice something like that? How am I supposed to keep you hidden for the next nine days while running around with a weapon you’ve altered the Regent’s enchantment on?”

  Adira lifted her wood sword and placed it on the table. “He won’t know.”

  Right?”

  “What did you do to it?”

  She spun toward him. “I stopped you from killing me with that sword. That’s what. It’ll still work on everyone else, so if you want to go beheading people today, go for it.”

  Alec grabbed her and stared down into her eyes. “I don’t kill people, Adira. I kill Ravagers.”

  “You practically feed people to the Ravagers you kill,” she said. “It might as well be you that takes their final breath.”

  “Do you honestly feel that way?” he asked, not releasing her. “Tell me you really feel that way.”

  She bit her tongue. No, she didn’t exactly feel that way. In fact, it wasn’t even him she was angry with. It was herself.

  She was angry with herself because he was right. She was being selfish. She should just turn herself and face her destiny, whatever it might be. She shouldn’t need him to drag her down there to do it. She should do it because if she didn’t, other witches were going to die. Witches like the ones she’d gotten to know since arriving at Miss Balek’s home.

  Adira didn’t want to think anymore, so she pressed up on her toes and kissed Alec with all the anger she had bottled up inside, getting lost in him and the way his mouth matched her fury.

  Today, she would enjoy him for who he was, because in nine days from now, he would be the man to march her to her funeral.