Deadly Sweet

by Lola Dodge

  Blinking, I scoped the place out. I stood in a marble entryway, half leaning against a big mirror/coat rack thing to keep my balance. A really marble entryway. Like, mausoleum marble.

  Wynn hovered behind me, annoyingly blank-faced and stoic while my head was still nine-tenths fuzz. A ward that strong and nothing? No reaction?

  So unfair.

  The Servant gestured toward the stairway. “Mistress is waiting upstairs.”

  Mistress, huh? Mom sure had some interesting childhood friends.

  I took a step, but the Servant cleared his throat. “Shoes?”

  He opened a short cupboard, showing pairs of flats and heels lined neatly in pairs. This guy was zero for two at giving the important info up front. I kicked off my sneakers and stuck them on the top shelf. Wynn did the same with his boots.

  The Servant motioned him into a hallway downstairs, and both of them disappeared.

  That was something good. Agatha’s and the bookshop were the only other places where Wynn didn’t breathe down my neck.

  It was like a vacation.

  And the more I saw, the more curious I was about the Wus. The white walls matched the marble floors, and I only spotted one picture. It hung blown up in a thick iron frame right at the top of the stairs. I padded up to take a closer look.

  Five little girls posed for the camera in fluffy party dresses. The three in front looked like triplets with the same black hair and eyes, identical except for different numbers of barrettes they wore. The two taller girls leaned on them from behind. One with big dark curls and a soft smile who had to be Vanessa because she looked like Gabi’s doppelgänger.

  And then Mom.

  She had chocolate smeared around her lips and stared at something off camera with a greedy twinkle in her eye. Fondness filled my chest. Going straight for the cakes. We were definitely mother and daughter.

  “It was our eighth birthday party.” Someone spoke behind me.

  I whirled to find Peggy—Ms. Wu—standing at my shoulder. She moved closer, staring at the framed photo with a wistful little smile that softened her whole face. “We always celebrated together. My mother didn’t believe in birthdays, and Vanessa never knew when hers was. My sisters and I were born on the eleventh and your mom the thirteenth, so your nana threw us all a big party every year on November twelfth. Every year until Nora was cast out.”

  “She never said.” And it panged a little now that I was looking at her happy face in the photo. There must’ve been so many things she couldn’t tell me. “I didn’t even know she grew up in Taos.” I’d only discovered Agatha after Googling magical bakeshops. Nana’s obituary had listed Agatha Wise as a surviving relative or I wouldn’t have dared suspect we were blood.

  “Have you had lunch?” Ms. Wu asked, throwing down a 180-degree subject change.

  “Lunch?” The question took me by surprise when I was so busy strolling through the past. “Not really.” At least, a million bites of cake probably didn’t count as lunch, but I definitely wasn’t hungry. I’d only planned on having tea.

  “Come.” She motioned for me to follow her down the hall.

  Curious, I padded along. The hallway matched the rest of the house, all bare white and cold, but every few steps I caught a whiff of something herbal. Not quite pine, but rich and resiny. Frankincense? All the doors were closed, so there were no hints what else was going on in here.

  But considering what they all did for a living, not knowing was probably best.

  Ms. Wu opened the last door at the end of the hall and stepped aside to let me into a huge sitting room. The floor was the same polished marble as everywhere else, but a big Persian rug covered the middle of the room where Blair sat on one of the rigid sofas ringed around a table. I managed to sort of nod to Blair, but my jaw was already dropping at the spread.

  Half a dozen three-tiered stands were jam-packed with tea sandwiches, tiny cakes, and little dishes of nibbly things and who knew what. More trays of food packed the table between the stands, filled with everything from scones to cold noodles. There was barely room for the elaborate place settings—four of them, set with more forks and knives than I’d ever seen outside an etiquette book.

  Blair’s laugh-choke was the only thing that could’ve drawn my attention off the food. “Your face.” She wore another one of her cute print dresses—black owls to match her black eyeliner wings. She looked good, but the outfit made me regret my choice of leggings. None had warned me this would be a formal affair.

  “Pour the tea,” Ms. Wu said to her daughter as she escorted me to the chair at the head of the table. A Servant I hadn’t noticed appeared to take the napkin from my plate and fold it to my lap. I was still holding the cakes I’d brought, but there wasn’t one inch of space to set them down.

  “I brought cakes…” I lamely lifted the box in Ms. Wu’s direction.

  “Thank you.” She took the box with both hands and passed it off to a Servant. “Put this on a tray.” Then her attention shifted to Blair. “Where’s your brother?”

  “I don’t know. Working on his brow contour?” Blair forked a few slices of prosciutto from the charcuterie board onto her plate, which was already scattered with crumbs.

  Now I was doubly glad I’d put on my jasmine oil because I was sweating staring at all this fancy food. Was the entire British royal family joining us? Because there was way too much, even if Bradley joined the party.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Bradley said, entering the room before his mom could send a party to hunt him down. He wore jeans and a tailored shirt with the sleeves rolled precisely at his elbows, and if he’d really been holed up somewhere contouring, he should keep doing that because his complexion was flawless. I seriously wanted a poster of him to hang in my bedroom.

  “Anise.” He sat on the sofa next to his sister and started piling food on his plate. “Hope you came hungry.”

  “I…yeah.” Everything looked like it was catered from a catalog, but the volume had my palms sweating. How much did I have to eat to not be rude?

  “The tea, Blair.” Ms. Wu set a dish of some type of salad on my plate, then a scone, then a few slices of prosciutto and cheese… Blair muffled a snicker as she filled my cup with tea. “Is there anything you don’t like?” Ms. Wu asked, balancing a couple of breadsticks next to the salad.

  “I like everything, but this is so much.” It looked like I was trying to get my money’s worth at a buffet, and my pile was still growing.

  “Eat, eat.”

  I grabbed my fork and hoped I could block her from adding anything else while I was actually eating. The noodles with brown sauce and julienne cucumbers were taking up the most space on my plate, so I started with them. Seeing me chewing, Ms. Wu gave a satisfied nod before turning to her children’s plates. “Take some salad, Bradley.” His plate was heaped with the charcuterie and nothing else, but he grabbed one of the little salad dishes without complaint. He also didn’t touch it again. Clearly, not their first all-you-can-eat rodeo.

  “Nora never talked about her childhood?” Ms. Wu lifted one—one—cucumber sandwich onto her plate and let it sit there untouched.

  I tried to focus on the question instead of the food. “Never anything specific.” I’d only realized recently how much of herself she’d had to throw away and reinvent. “She pretty much gave up casting and I grew up thinking she wasn’t into magic.”

  Ms. Wu shook her head, then put another scone on my plate. “I don’t know how she survived.”

  “Me neither.” And I hoped she was doing okay at home, alone. At least we’d always had each other until now.

  “Wait.” Blair’s knife scraped her plate. “Nora gave up magic? Isn’t she the one who…” Her gaze slid past me to her mom.

  The one who what?

  “Yes. She was a powerful witch. Always casting. Always experimenting.”

  She would know better than me, but it was hard to compare the woman they were describing with the mom in my memories. I wished she could be he
re to answer for herself.

  A Servant swept in with another tiered tray, this one filled with the cakes I’d brought. I wondered where the guy was going to set it, but instead of making room, he bent to whisper in Ms. Wu’s ear.

  She stood to fold her napkin. “I’m sorry to leave you, but there’s a situation in the parlor. Blair. Bradley. Take care of our guest.”

  “For sure,” Blair said. Bradley just flipped her a thumbs-up, mid-chew.

  The Servant ended up setting the extra tray of cakes on Ms. Wu’s empty chair. Her untouched cucumber sandwich sat on her plate, and I put down my fork while I could. If I’d worn anything but leggings, I would’ve been unbuttoning my pants already. I turned to gape at Blair. “She said we were having tea.”

  Blair tapped her fork against her teacup. “There’s tea.”

  “But this…”

  She cackled. “I think she’s adopting you.”

  “Or trying to marry us off?” Bradley’s question had me choking. “Is that why I’m invited?”

  “No way. You’re spoken for.” Blair waved a dismissive fork.

  “Really.” He quirked a shapely brow at his sister. “Have you told my future bride?”

  “She’ll figure it out eventually.” Blair turned back to me. “Unless you claim him first?”

  “Um…” The only thing I wanted to claim right now was a stomach pumping. “I had someone else in mind?”

  “Sorry, B. That’s a no from Anise.”

  Bradley shook his head in faked sadness. “We could’ve had it all.”

  What was this family?

  “But who else?” Blair’s black eyes narrowed, not letting anything slip. “A guy from home?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “From here? Who? That tasty bodyguard?”

  I lifted my hands, trying to stop her rapid-fire questions. “It’s not serious.” And I wasn’t talking about guys in front of Bradley. It was too embarrassing.

  Blair’s lips parted, probably about to let another question fly. I had to distract her. “Did you hear the news about Hayley?”

  “News?” Blair tilted her head, taking the bait. “Did they hear something new?”

  “Zedock found her car. Agatha said she left a note about running away with her boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?” Blair’s brow wrinkled up. “Was she seeing someone?” She elbowed her brother.

  “Hayley… She had her hair dyed white?” He asked.

  Blair nodded. “With roots.”

  “I saw her sneaking around the square with a guy a few times. Never caught his face, but he dressed like he was older. Blazers and slacks.”

  An older man? I really wished I could’ve met this Hayley. She sounded like she’d been a mystery even before the disappearance. “How much older?”

  Bradley tapped a fork against his plate as he thought. “Old enough to be salt and pepper.”

  “Agatha said he was a peacock.” She hadn’t mentioned age at all, but maybe being stupid flashy was worse than an age gap in her eyes?

  “Didn’t she call you a peacock?” Blair asked.

  Bradley chuckled. “Once upon a time, but she said it fondly. Agatha likes me.”

  “Everyone likes you.” Blair grabbed a fresh scone. “Can anyone reach the cream?”

  “Uh…” I peeked between two tiered trays of snacks, but the little pots of cream and jams were on the far side of the table, about equally far away from all of us.

  Blair curled two fingers, summoning the Servant man who’d posted up next to the massive ornamental fireplace. “Hand me the scone stuff and start clearing some of this away. Nobody wants vegetables.”

  He lifted a bowl of salad away, then moved the tray of little pots into the vacant space where Blair could reach. I peeked at the Servant through my lashes as he moved to my side to clear away the plates of stir-fried greens. He smelled like nice cologne, with a crisply pressed white shirt and black vest. Even though he clearly wasn’t breathing, he blinked every so often and his skin looked moister than mine. Not as nice as Bradley’s, but still.

  How did it work, making a Servant? Had he agreed before he died or after? Or what if he didn’t agree? Was it forced labor? It would probably be rude to ask him, though maybe I could ask Blair someday. Necromancy wasn’t a subject you could Google and expect accurate answers.

  With the jams back in reach, we all dug into the scones, which were a little drier than I liked—but really good cream could fix anything. Blair and Bradley kept up their banter while we nibbled on the good stuff. Every so often they asked me a question, but they didn’t have to. I felt included just seeing them drop their guards with each other. Sipping tea while they joked and argued made a happy warmth spread through my chest.

  Eventually, Bradley tossed his napkin on the noticeably emptier table. “I’d better get back down to the shop. See you around, Anise.”

  “See you,” I replied, managing not to slop tea down the front of my shirt

  As soon as the door shut behind him, Blair’s eyes narrowed like a predator’s. “The boy is gone. Who else did you have in mind?”

  I jerked, and this time, my shirt wasn’t so lucky. I dabbed at the tea dribbles with my napkin while I tried to figure out what to say. I didn’t want to make my crush a thing—it wasn’t even really a crush yet. More like, my eye was drawn to Seth and I kept thinking about him night after night. But Blair kept staring, and the truth stared through her eyes. This was a chance. To tell her I trusted her. And honestly, who else could I tell? I wanted to share it with someone, and I didn’t think Blair would go spreading my secrets around.

  I wasn’t ever eating at her house again without getting specific information first, but other than that, I trusted her. “Do you know a Seth?”

  “Seth?” She said. “Seth… Seth… Wait. Pizza Seth?”

  “I don’t know his real name, but it’s not that.”

  “Neither do I. It’s a nickname. The guy with the whisk and whatever tattooed on his forearms?”

  “Him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I’ve hardly talked to him.”

  “Good taste anyway.”

  “Why Pizza Seth?”

  “He does delivery at all the campus housing places.” Her brow arched up. “Since this summer, all the girls order pizzas late at night and try to get him to come in and stay. He never takes the invite. Says he hasn’t found the right girl yet.”

  My heart squeezed. “Just the summer?” I would’ve been after him my whole life if I’d grown up in Taos.

  “There’s a rumor he got plastic surgery because he did not look like that last year.” Blair fanned herself. “He for sure discovered the weight room. How’d you run into him?”

  “He’s in my food prep class.” Which I kept missing.

  “Oh. I brought all your notes.” Blair dragged a paper shopping bag out from under the sofa and hefted it across our empty, jam-streaked plates. A huge binder was stuffed inside.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

  “Not a problem. But when are you coming back? You seem fine.”

  “Tomorrow, I think.” I’d gagged down the last of my healing brew, and I did feel fine. The only question was whether someone would target me. At least now, I’d be on the lookout for poison. Going by last night, the Spellwork Syndicate wasn’t that worried I’d end up hurt, and now that Hayley really had run away… It sounded more and more like I was the cause of all my own troubles in Taos.

  “Just don’t go sniffing any more mystery vials.”

  “Yeah. Learned that lesson.” I slipped my napkin onto the table. “I’d better get going, too. Sorry if your mom forced you into coming.”

  “I never say no to high tea.” Blair tilted her head to the side like I was a puzzle she couldn’t solve. “You’re not what I expected.”

  “Why would you expect anything?” I hadn’t even known Blair existed until last week,
so there hadn’t been much time to imagine what she’d be like. Well. Beyond the obvious necromancer stuff.

  “Mom went on and on about Nora Wise. I thought her daughter would be more…” Blair paused to look me over and nerves tingled in my gut as I imagined what she’d come up with. Someone with more magic? Someone more outgoing? More pretty? More what?

  “Wild?” Blair finally said.

  A laugh deflated the tension I’d been holding. “That’s definitely not me. Not really her anymore, either.”

  “Anyway. I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now. I wasn’t kidding about my mom adopting you.”

  To my surprise, Blair didn’t sound disappointed about that. “As long as I don’t have to start raising the dead.”

  “We’ve got that covered,” she said, with a wicked little smile. “You’ll be the sibling in charge of cake.”

  That, I could handle.

  I practically levitated down the stairs to the foyer. This had gone so much better than I’d feared. I hadn’t embarrassed myself, and I got the sense that the Wus—including Blair—didn’t mind having me around.

  After I put on my shoes, a Servant forced another giant shopping bag into my hands. “Mistress asked us to pack the leftovers for you.”

  I peeked inside to find stacks and stacks of plastic containers packed with a little bit of everything. There were even plastic cups filled with extra cream and jam for the scones. I’d need bigger pants if I started spending more time around the Wus, but I was all for going up a size. If I had good food and an adoptive family, then who cared?

  Wynn popped out of the door he’d disappeared into earlier and followed behind but didn’t step up to help when I struggled to balance my bulky bags. The food was going to burst out the bottom. I had to hoist the bag up into both hands with the binder propped underneath, but then I couldn’t see where I was going.

  Oh well. The sidewalk was empty, and if anyone came, they’d have to avoid me.

  We were almost back to Agatha’s when I spotted a figure running down the walk over the top of the bag. I started to move to the side to let them pass.

  Then Wynn tackled me from behind.