by Wendy Knight
It wasn’t until they were cleaning up to go home that he brought it up again. He tucked his helmet under his arm and started for the school, pausing to let the cross country team run by.
She ran with them.
Somehow, it had escaped his knowledge that she’d joined the cross country team. He’d pegged her for more of a cheerleader type, although she was incredibly sarcastic and not very peppy for a cheerleader. He stood there, watching them all run by, his jaw pretty much hanging on the ground.
She didn’t even notice him.
They were running hard, the coach just over the hill, yelling them on. She was focused on not dying, probably. That’s why she hadn’t seen him.
Still, it annoyed him to no end.
“She bugs me,” he muttered after they ran by.
Aaron grinned and shook his head. “Not every girl is gonna fall for you, you know. Haven’t you ever been shot down before?”
“She didn’t shoot me down. I didn’t ask her out. I offered to help her with chemistry. And I showed her where our history books are.”
“And what? She didn’t say thank you?”
Quin growled. “She was very polite.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Aaron asked, too loudly.
“I don’t know,” Quin grumbled. He paused at the door into the school, watching the cross country team milling around, trying to catch their collective breath. It would be easier to get her out of his head if she wasn’t so dang gorgeous. He’d never seen anything like her. Even now, sweaty and exhausted, he could see her eyes sparkling.
From clear across the stupid field.
Sighing, he headed inside, throwing his stuff into his locker. His phone, waiting in his bag, was buzzing angrily and wasn’t letting up. Frowning, dread coiling in the pit of his stomach, he dug it out and answered it. “Mom?”
Cass didn’t bother with hello. In a rush, she said, “There’s an attack on an outlying coven, Quin. We’re heading there now. I just wanted to say goodbye first.”
Quin swallowed hard. He hated this stupid war. He hated warlocks, and most of all, he hated never knowing if she’d make it home alive. “I love you, Mom. Be careful.”
“I always am. Love you, too.”
And she was gone, probably racing for her broomstick — which looked nothing like the brooms he used to clean the kitchen floor. No, it was ancient, twisted, and instead of straw at the end, it had fire. She rode it sidesaddle, so she could jump off and into battle without waiting to land.
Pretty much, broomsticks were badass.
Their wands, too, were far from what popular culture believed them to be. They were made of precious metals — his mom’s was made of onyx. Magic exploded from them with spells and potions in the form of colorful, sparkly fire.
Always, with the fire.
It was beautiful, even as it killed.
Destiny forgotten, he slung his bag over his shoulder and started for his jeep, staring at the floor.
So of course, he smashed right into her.
She’d been trying to retie her hair into a ponytail with her head down so she could reach the top of her head. She was probably 5’6”, maybe 5’7”, and he was just over 6 feet tall, and outweighed her by probably sixty pounds.
Basically, he knocked her flying.
She swore, tumbling backward into the lockers and sliding sideways. He watched as if in slow motion as she sank to the floor, banging her elbow on the hard laminate. “What the heck, Quin?”
He should have apologized. Normally, he would have, but her attitude, coupled with how much she seemed to not realize he existed, added to his overwhelming worry for his mom, and he snapped. “Watch where you’re going, Destiny. Not everyone’s gonna bow out of your way.”
Her eyebrows shot up and he could see the hurt in her eyes just before they hardened, and he knew whatever retort she was going to come up with would sting.
So he turned around and walked away.
He heard her hiss behind him, muttering under her breath.
And something smacked him in the back of the head.
It was his turn to swear, whirling around to glare at her. She was still pulling herself to her feet, rubbing her elbow. She glared back but said nothing while he looked around to see what she’d thrown at him. A book maybe. Or a brick. He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t bleeding.
But there was nothing. He turned in a slow circle, but there was no book, no brick, no object whatsoever that could have hit him in the back of the head, where he definitely had a goose egg forming now. He looked back at her, bewildered, but she was already walking away, sashaying down the hall toward the girls’ locker room.
It was a nice view.
Rubbing his head, confused and angry, he tried not to notice how nice before he turned his back on her and stalked away.
****
FATE LOOKED UP AS Destiny walked in. She was typing on her phone, and smiling, so Destiny didn’t have to be a mind reader to know who she was talking to. “Hey,” she said grumpily, still holding the cloth against her elbow. She’d torn all the skin off it when she fell.
Stupid Quin.
“What’s the matter with you?” Fate spun on her stomach to sit up.
“Quin is the matter with me,” Destiny grumbled. She slid around the counter and raised on her tip toes to reach into the medicine cabinet.
“Oooh, are we making a potion?” Fate squealed and tossed her phone to the side. Damien might be her favorite boy in the world, but she was a witch first.
Boys, no matter how cute, would always come second.
“No. We’re finding antibiotic ointment and an elbow-sized bandage.”
Alina appeared from the shadows. Destiny had no idea how long she’d been there, and she scared the crap out of both of her daughters. “Mom!”
“Who is Quin?” Alina asked.
Fate pushed past her, closing the cupboard and reaching around to grab the Calendula off the kitchen window. With a pointed look at her sister, she dropped the petals of the pretty flower into her pot and lit the stove. “Never send a little yellow tube to do a potion’s job.”
“It’s just a scrape, Fate. Two seconds to slather some stuff on and slap a bandage on it.”
“And it will still hurt tomorrow and—” Fate turned and held up a finger. “—it will scar.” She reached over and squeezed Destiny’s chin. “You’re too pretty to scar!”
Destiny rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. “I have a ton of scars. Several of which you gave me,” she said through squished lips.
“Eh.” Fate shrugged, turning back to her bubbling pot. “Cauldron bubble,” she murmured.
“And I ask again, who is Quin? Do I need to call the principal?” Alina checked Destiny’s wound. “Is he bullying you?”
“Quin is a boy in a few of my classes. He was really nice until he realized I’m better than him. At everything.” Destiny grinned wickedly.
“Really.” Alina turned to Fate. “Have you met him?”
“Yeah, we have a class together. I don’t think he knows who I am, though. He’s cute, Mom. Dark messy hair. Big brown eyes. And he’s a football player, so you know what that means.” Fate wiggled her eyebrows.
Alina crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “I do not know what that means.”
Fate snickered and changed the subject. “By the way, I set up our Etsy shop. Now we wait. Oh, and also by the way, I’m going out with Damien Friday. Do you want to come out with us?”
Destiny watched the potion tumble and boil through the pot. It was green and not at all appetizing. It also didn’t look like something fun to put on her throbbing elbow. “As fun as it is watching you two all turtle dovey, no. But thanks. I’m actually going to check out a Krav Maga class. They have a free class Friday night for newcomers.”
Fate glanced up, eyes wide. It took a few seconds, and then she shrugged again. “We’re going to need more herbs.”
“I’m tired of Winnie waltzing
in, thinking she’s so tough—”
“She is tough,” Alina said. “Fate, less honey, more cayenne. Destiny, you’re a potions witch. Why on earth do you want to learn how to fight?”
“Because. I don’t like being a damsel in distress.” Destiny twisted a strand of dark hair around her finger and watched her sister and mom stir, both of them ridiculously happy. That’s what potion-making did. It made them happy.
She smiled.
“When have you ever been a damsel in distress?” Fate asked. “The only time anyone has even tried to mess with you was in second grade, when Billy Bing pulled your ponytail and you punched him in the throat.”
“I couldn’t reach his nose,” Destiny objected.
“He gagged when he tried to talk for, like, two weeks.” Fate’s eyes sparkled proudly.
“She’s got a point,” Alina said, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“Yes, well, we’re seniors. We’re about to go to college. Spread our wings. It’s a dangerous world out there.”
Fate stopped, dropping her hands to her hips. “You literally just told me last week that you wanted to go to that college in Great Falls so we could live at home because you didn’t want Mom to be a crazy cat lady.”
“Hey!” Alina objected.
“Come on, Mom. We’ve got two dogs, three cats, several snakes. I think that hawk has adopted us, too.”
“The one trying to eat the bunny the neighbors abandoned?” Fate asked. “Yeah. It moved in. It plays tag with Otto now.”
Otto was the bunny. He’d burrowed under their back shed and built himself a nice little nest, and had already tricked the dogs into being his friend. Somehow, he’d enchanted the hawk now, too.
“See?” Alina scooped the mixture onto the spoon. She blew on it as she carried it across the kitchen to Destiny’s elbow. “I’ll be the crazy animal lady, not the crazy cat lady.”
“I like it here.” Destiny held out her arm obediently. “People put medicine on my owies here.”
“Bat your eyelashes and I’ll bet you can get people to do that away at college.” Fate raised her eyebrows suggestively.
Destiny rolled her eyes. “I don’t do—”
“Love. I know. Good grief, woman, I live with you. Most of the time, I live in your head.” Fate sighed. “Got any more owies? We have a whole pot of this stuff.”
Destiny shook her head, watching her mom smooth the cream over the scratches, just like when Destiny was a little girl. And pretty much ever since.
“It’s a potion thing,” Destiny continued. “If you can create love from a potion, it can’t really exist.”
Alina glanced up but said nothing.
“Damien doesn’t suspect I slipped him a love potion one bit.” Fate leaned on the kitchen counter and propped her chin on her hand.
“Yeah, but everyone else might,” Alina said quietly.
“I don’t care,” Fate said happily. “It’s long since worn off and he’s still around.”
“It’s not that.” Destiny interrupted, because once Fate got started, she tended to ramble. Alina’s hand stilled on her arm. “If you can make someone fall in love with you with just a little potion, then how can love be a real thing?”
Fate smiled. “It just is. So. What are we going to do with all this extra potion? Should we go knock Quin down and scrape him all up so I can use the rest of it?”
“I like that plan,” Destiny agreed.
Alina didn’t look up. “Maybe you can sell it. On your Etsy shop.”
Fate’s jaw dropped and Destiny ducked guiltily. With a pointed look, Alina turned and swept from the room.
“Busted.” Destiny giggled after Alina disappeared from sight.
“I didn’t think she even knew what Etsy is,” Fate gasped.
“She’s young, dummy.”
“You’re the one who calls her a cat lady.”
“Well, we do have a freakish amount of pets.”
“Yes. But only three cats. That’s not freakish.”
****
QUIN HAD BEEN TAKING Krav Maga since he was sixteen. He’d had to get special permission from his parents and begged the instructor, Shannon, to let him start before he was eighteen, like the rules said.
It was the one thing he could do in a war no one would let him fight.
It was only the women. Women fought warlock, who were not women. They maybe were, once. The first warlock had been member of the original coven who had betrayed the coven elders and stolen their power with an ancient spell. No one was sure where the warlocks came from now. Some, of course, were modern-day oath breakers who had turned on their own and killed them to steal their power. Now, though, he wasn’t quite sure they could be called human. They were disfigured, horrifying. They hid in the shadows, unaccepted in society — maybe because of the red glowing eyes, if he had to hazard a guess. Or the curled, claw-like fingers, maybe. He wasn’t sure where they lived — or if they had homes at all. He’d never actually seen one in real life, but he’d seen illustrations. Their robes were torn and dirty, like they’d never been washed. No one really knew anything about the warlocks at all.
Except for one thing. Every time one was killed, two more were born somewhere else.
“Quin! Pay attention or you’re gonna get hurt,” he heard Shannon yell just before the gloved fist hit him in the face and sent him sprawling.
Rubbing his jaw, he sat up, taking Zeke’s offered hand. “Sorry, Quin. Guess that’s why we warm up first, huh?”
Quin shrugged. “It’s my stupid fault. Can’t pay attention.”
“Still Destiny?”
Quin shook his head. “No. Got her out of my head, finally.” It only took sending my mom off to war to do it. Score!
“Good. Because she just walked in.”
Quin turned to where Shannon was walking across the pads, hand out and smiling.
It was true, Destiny had just walked in. Her hair, the hair that tortured him every day in chemistry, taking up all the space on his desk. The hair he’d found himself fantasizing about touching far too often — that hair, she had pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. She was in leggings and a loose tank top, and he could see the outline of every curve.
He swallowed hard.
The one place that was still his — the one place that was Destiny-free, and here she was.
“Hey guys, this is Destiny. Let’s make her feel welcome, okay?” Shannon ushered her into the group. “We’ll start with the basics, Destiny, but first let me introduce you to the group.”
Quin knew the exact moment Destiny realized he was there. Her blue eyes narrowed and she absently rubbed her elbow. He still felt bad about that, but there wasn’t a chance he was going to apologize about it now. Besides, it couldn’t have been so bad. She didn’t even have the bandage on it anymore and he couldn’t see a mark on her.
They ran through warm ups, Destiny falling in place seamlessly. “Seems cross country really helped her out,” Zeke said between jumping jacks.”
“Yeah. For warm ups. She’s gonna get slaughtered once we start.”
And she did. Even though she was clear across the room with the beginner class, he could see it. She started to falter during drills, and when they really settled in to practice, she got the crap beat out of her.
And yet, every time she fell, she got back up. Most of the time, she was still smiling.
Except when she looked at him.
CHAPTER THREE
DESTINY GROANED AS SHE FELL OUT of bed the next morning. It wasn’t even climbing, she just twisted, attempted to get her feet under her, and tumbled to the floor. “I have never hurt so much in my life. I think my hair hurts,” she cried.
Fate’s head popped through the window. Destiny could just see her if she looked as far up as her eye sockets would allow. “You shoulda come with us last night. We went to a movie. I don’t hurt at all.”
Destiny muttered unintelligibly.
Fate snorted, then attempted to re
arrange her face into something resembling sympathetic. “How was it, besides body and soul crushing?”
“Quin was there.”
Fate’s eyes sparkled. “Oooh. Did you punch him? In the name of practice, of course.”
Destiny shook her head and immediately regretted it. Holy heavens, her hair did hurt. “He’s in one of the more advanced classes. I’m in the beginner class.”
“Too bad. I would love to see you beat him to a pulp.”
Destiny grumbled and attempted to push herself to her feet, but her arms wouldn’t respond. “I’m just gonna hang out here today.”
Fate laughed, all sparkles and light, and climbed through the window, despite the fact that they had two perfectly good doors from her room to Destiny’s. “Let me help you. We have work to do today. It’s potion creating day!”
“Do I have to use my arms, legs, or abs to do it?”
Fate plopped on the floor next to her, pursing her lips. “Yep.”
“Ugh.” Destiny let her eyes fall shut.
“Sorry. Guess you’ll be joining us next Friday, huh? We could go play laser tag. That’s kind of anti-damsel in distress.”
Destiny raised her head, trying not to moan. “No. I have class next Friday.”
Fate’s eyes slid closed and she smiled. “Of course you do.” She clambered to her feet and looped Destiny’s arm through hers, pulling her up. “Come on. I’ve got a potion for this.”
Except Damien was there when they made it, half-alive, to the bottom of the stairs, where Alina had herbs, spell books, spices, and ingredients spread all through the expansive kitchen. “Damien!” Fate abandoned Destiny and bounced to his side.
Destiny groaned and resisted the urge to slide to the floor. Instead, she shuffled to the stove and started mixing, letting the calm slide over her as she cooked. Making potions was in her blood. It’s what she was born to do, and it brought a peace to her soul every time.
She let her hands move on their own, her eyes closed, just feeling, and letting her heart guide her. The cauldron bubbled cheerfully, and the sweet scent alone helped ease her aching muscles.