Deadly Morsel: Rosewood Academy of Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 5)

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Deadly Morsel: Rosewood Academy of Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 5) Page 14

by Juliann Whicker


  I hissed. I stepped towards him, my hands curling into claws. “Get out! I did not ask for this and I’m certainly not dressing for the part of Zach’s sexy little imaginary fiancé. Why did I think this was going to work? You have absolutely no logical relationship to anything in my world. I’m not Pitch!”

  I hurled a vase at him, but he was already at the door and ducked out so the vase only hit the wall then fell to the floor with another clunk. That vase was either spelled against breaking or it was made out of something amazing.

  I knelt down by it, running my hands over the surface. Some kind of metal alloy, but there was more to it. Cement? Mini fibers of metal spread through the exterior compound or something like cement, plasticized cement? Resin? I sniffed and poked it until I sighed and leaned against the wall. For ten minutes I sat on the floor, absently running my hands over the vase and trying to get my own logical processes under control.

  My first instinct was to burn everything down, his bed, his room, his house, his island, probably in that order. But I had offered him the contract, and he was right about him being in love with Pitch and Penny Lane not really meshing well. Which was ironic because we were pretty much one person. If she was a person we would be one person, but she wasn’t so… Anyway.

  My second instinct was to explore his room and spend as long as I was here making something interesting and expensive. That instinct was pretty good. I could definitely work that into my time between looking slutty and dangerous and trying not to die from being drugged and stuck on a plane. I needed to figure out some kind of alarm spell that would wake me up any time Zach got close. Or get a pet weasel.

  Oh, Señor, where are you?

  I pushed myself up the wall and started breaking into all his fancy tech closets. When I had all the walls opened up, I just wandered around for a long time, admiring the beautiful lasers and solders and stuff I had no idea what they did.

  The clothes Zach had picked out weren’t that bad. There was a pair of boots that laced up to the knee, almost-tourney boots but a little sleeker with a taller heel. I would be taller than Zach in those. Probably. And they were incredibly boring. I was supposed to be Pitch’s genius hurter maker. What did Zach have in the way of clothing?

  Two hours later I was creating a different kind of sculpture out of the vase that hadn’t shattered when I’d thrown it. I’d mixed a pair of Zach’s shoes with it, and used a lot of tech that he would probably never be able to repair.

  Someone knocked on the door and said, “It’s the maid,” in heavily accented English. Awesome. I put down the welder and walked over to the table where I’d left the mangled ion reorganizer thingy. It looked like a space gun. Or a really pimping glue gun. The cordless kind. I needed to order more glue sticks.

  I glanced at my reflection as I walked past an open mirror door. I looked… Um, how would you describe engine grease lipstick that kind of smeared down my chin, also worn around my eyes and used as hair gel? I’d put my hair in twisty braids, tight to my scalp along my forehead before letting them tangle out in greasy dreadlocks down my back. The hair was probably the biggest change. Lit sometimes liked to walk around with me in tourneys, so I’d be Pitch’s hurter maker. I couldn’t be Pitch anywhere without getting assaulted, but Pitch’s hurter maker had respect and lots of offers of employment.

  I shook my head. No nostalgia. Today was a drama day. I walked in the boots Zach had left, well they were kind of different since I’d cut slits down the sides and used the nicest leather jacket he had to add embellishments and lacings that wrapped around and around. There was an art to wrapping leather. My skirt was also made out of his jacket and a bag which was so beautifully spelled and crafted I almost cried cutting into it. The skirt was three pieces, laced up on the front of my thighs leaving very high slits so walking wasn’t an issue. I took big steps. The heels weren’t high anymore, no, I’d switched out my tread for some of Zach’s. His tools made everything so fast. Destruction and rebuild took a matter of minutes instead of hours. Also, I’d been destroying and rebuilding for a long time.

  I hesitated in front of a mirror. The top was a black tank top of Zach’s I’d burned the bottom off above my belly button. My arms were so pretty, though. My nail polish was engine grease worn under the nails instead of over them. Classy. What I really needed was a good texture that went with the rest of my outfit. I grabbed an energy torch and concentrated as I jabbed my shoulder a few times.

  The pain was incredibly awesome but it didn’t last long and there were my old acid and burn scars that Revere had glamoured away ages ago. Such a nice texture. So sexy. I grinned at myself in the mirror and finally looked like a maniac hurter maker. I lifted the space glue gun and winked at my reflection. Pitch laughed in my head and I marched to the door, flung it open and walked out.

  Chapter 17

  Mage

  I spent hours locked in that smoky study with Zach, his dad and mine. Stoneburrow the elder had issues with allergies, and sensitivities, and what that meant was he ran a dehumidifier, a humidifier, and an air purifier at the same time. It’s not like we were in Darkside or anything, but the result was a steamy foggy atmosphere that I had a hard time breathing through.

  “I don’t understand why you would sign this contract without first getting my approval.” He sounded so puzzled and looked so sweetly bewildered. Zach had gotten his fake sweet persona from his father. It helped to have a bald head and spectacles, also to wear a bathrobe with polka dots. Penny would like that bathrobe. I still needed to get her a wedding present. It would have to be as big as the coat I couldn’t seem to take off. That was extraordinarily huge. Getting Señor Mort back would be a start. Ian had cornered me, told me that Teddy was taking very good care of Señor Mort and how did I feel being married to Zach.

  That reminded me, I should listen to him.

  “She’s Pitch’s hurter maker. You know the tech she’s capable of. You’ve seen samples. You should congratulate me on my ability to get a contract of any kind with her, much less two.”

  “But marriage, Zachary. The details about children in here are very minimal.” Stoneburrow spoke carefully, separating every syllable. “I would say less than minimal.” He glanced at me with a slight frown.

  That was my cue to get up and pour myself a drink. He had a wide assortment of health elixirs from mineral waters to weird sulfurous stuff. I conjured a nice golden brandy.

  Mr. Stoneburrow frowned at me. “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?”

  Did he not check the receipts for how much Zachary spent on alcohol? Particularly in the last week.

  “I try, but I’m not getting any younger.” I threw back the drink and conjured myself some more.

  He shook his head, glanced at my father who was on his laptop, some business emergency, no doubt.

  I watched him for a second, a mage who was drowning in whatever he could find so he didn’t have to feel the consuming agony of love and guilt. I threw back another drink.

  Mr. Stoneburrow was starting to look a little rosy in spite of his frown. “Drake, why have you agreed to play a part in this extremely unorthodox and dangerous contract?”

  It was dangerous. That was Penny, through and through along with unorthodox. “It’s the least I can do after getting her hopes up. I was going to marry her but then everything went to pieces.”

  “She’s not an asset to Huntsman inc.?”

  My father cleared his throat and glanced up from his computer. “People are not assets, Perry. You know that perfectly well. Drake was going to marry her because he liked her. That’s what I’m concerned about, the lack of details in the bedroom clause. It won’t do for Stoneburrow and Huntsman to go to war over a woman they can’t share.”

  “We won’t be sharing,” Zach said, scowling at me for some reason. Oh, because I could drink and he could not. He was trying to prove he was a reasonable and responsible adult who could make this kind of decision. I raised my glass to him then drained it.

 
“If that’s your intention, why haven’t you written anything more detailed in the ‘bedroom clause’ section. Also, why couldn’t you have named it a little more elegantly?”

  Zach licked his lips, eying my drink. “I didn’t specify because I think it’s probable that at some point, probably early in our marriage she’ll have lapses with Drake. You know how females are with him. I want it made perfectly clear that whatever she does with him, she still belongs to me.”

  He sounded so odiously content at the idea of owning Penny Lane.

  Mr. Stoneburrow adjusted his glasses and peered at another line on the contract. “There’s a lot of repetition.”

  “With slight changes of meaning,” Zach said, defending her nobly.

  I was going to throw up. No, I’d drink something stronger.

  “Are you going to object to the marriage?” my dad asked, voice no-nonsense and direct. We might finally be getting somewhere.

  Mr. Stoneburrow frowned for a few seconds before he shook his head. “The girl’s tech is more valuable than any ordinary dowry. No, I will not object, but the wife…”

  Mrs. Stoneburrow would be at the party later where we’d all get to see Zach walk around with his new fiancé. Zach went a little bit pale and eyed my drink with longing. I gave him a sharp smile and winked at him.

  “Witches adore Penny. I’m sure they’ll get along famously.”

  Mr. Stoneburrow waved his hand. “It’s almost time for the party. You should have consulted me, had our team go over the contract before signing it.”

  Zach shrugged. “You know that the chance of me actually getting married was incredibly small. But with Penny, we can spend days and days working and not talking about anything other than how to perfectly charge something. She’s the most restful person I’ve ever met.”

  “Restful?” Mr. Stoneburrow’s eyebrows rose in alarm.

  Zach shrugged. I couldn’t quite get used to Zach without his usual glamour. His father didn’t approve of his pretend soft face, but his actual sharp features and devil eyes didn’t go with that sheepish expression. He really shouldn’t try.

  “In an exhilarating manner,” my father said, putting a hand on Stoneburrow’s shoulder. “I met the girl. She’s remarkably cool-headed, sensible, clearly not in it for the games. You’ll enjoy having her in your family.”

  Stoneburrow shot my father a glance that was one hundred percent shark. That was the Stoneburrow the world knew and feared. “I suppose I’d better. Zach made it clear that he would be happy with being disowned if I didn’t embrace her with the proper enthusiasm. He’s worried that I’ll hurt her feelings.”

  “It’s always essential to be welcoming,” my dad said with a slight twitch of his mustache.

  Twenty minutes later we were standing around in an enormous room perched precariously over the ocean, bars sprinkled around the edges between drop dead gorgeous vistas. Zachary must have chosen this public room, part club, part gambling den, so his mother would have to be moderately civilized to Penny.

  Mrs. Stoneburrow stood in the middle of the dancers in the club. She was not dancing. She stood there, ignoring everyone else. What was she doing? She did that a lot, said it helped her think. Sometimes she supposedly caught a stranger trying to grope a girl and did terrible things to those inappropriate fingers. She was a stickler for all kinds of morality, which made her standing in a dark room with flashing strobe lights slightly incongruous. The woman did not mind getting her hands dirty.

  “How are you managing not to rip apart Stoneburrow?” my father asked, holding his own drink.

  “Which one?”

  “Both of them. This entire island. Do you know how many black market arms dealers are here?”

  “How come you know so many of them?”

  He laughed. “As though you don’t know all the up and coming criminals in our business. Is that her?”

  I turned to look at the doorway. I blinked twice and then smiled and slumped back against the marble pillar behind me. She’d brought a glue gun. She was probably going to glue gun a mustache to Zach’s face. That would show him that she wasn’t some Barbie doll he could dress and undress any time he liked. I nodded decisively before I glanced around to see the impression she made on anyone who was paying attention. Everyone was paying attention and the looks ran the gamut from mystified to lustful.

  Lustful? Had I missed something? I refocused on Penny and her legs. Her skirt, which seemed to be pieces of leather stuck together and pierced with an assortment of spikes and safety pins, had slits up the front of each thigh. High slits. More loincloth than skirt, and the fact that it looked entirely held together by glue, yes, lustful was probably the correct reaction. Such exquisitely long legs. Those legs could strangle a man in the woods, and would always have the perfect uncocked knee. Her boots were more of the same, slashed leather and strips that wound around each exquisite calf, while her top…

  Forget her clothes, what was going on with her shoulder and arm? Those were scars. Deep scars, layers and layers and layers of scars. I took two steps towards her before my father jerked me back, his fingers digging into my shoulder.

  “The entire purpose of this is to show that she belongs to him.” His growl was harsh enough to sink through the rising mindless green.

  He was right. I had to be Zach’s best man, Penny’s emergency backup. I leaned heavily on the pillar and assumed my nonchalant and bored façade as I watched the show.

  Penny walked to the first table filled with mages and tossed her glue gun into the center. It made a slight blue lightning flare at contact which several of the mages quickly harnessed and diffused.

  She took a seat and spoke to the mage who had worked quickest. I spelled so I could hear their conversation.

  “…seem to have broken it. You can fix it?”

  He was older, maybe ten years my senior, one of Stoneburrow’s best. He worked on the glue gun that apparently didn’t have any glue at all, and disassembled it in record time. He examined one part after another then replaced a little glowing blobby thing with a part he took out of his jacket pocket. When he went to reassemble it, Penny put her hand over his, making him freeze up in shock, horror and something else.

  She smiled brightly and cocked her head. “You don’t mind if I take over, do you? I have some ideas about modifications.”

  She spun pieces and parts, sticking some in her mouth which might have been toxic, but she liked putting dangerous pieces of equipment into her mouth. She was like a two-year-old. Five? Something.

  A few minutes later she had something resembling an eggbeater canoe. Some swirly thing came out the front and the rest was sleek and metallic.

  “Shall we test it?”

  “Not in the club, Penny.” Zach came and disarmed her with a sharp smile.

  She reacted to him without his glamour in an interesting way. At first she jerked away then she leaned closer like she was smelling him. Or maybe she’d bite his face off.

  “You’re going to make me think that tech mages aren’t any fun.” She smiled sharp and dangerous before she leaned over the table, revealing so much leg I almost had a heart attack. “Thanks so much for the demo. Apparently, you boys live up to your reputations.” She straightened and turned towards Zach, slipping her hand in his arm and pulling him close. “Interrupt me again and I’ll burn this place to the ground.” Her smile was so bright, so sharp, so delicious.

  She let go of him and walked off, swinging her hips in the ridiculously low-slung skirt-loincloth. The back of her spine was remarkably smooth and perfect considering the curse that lived there.

  The curse. That’s what all of this was about. Penny needed to marry a mage and that meant not melting down here. What could I do to calm her down? Food? I could steal her away and kiss her until she forgot about everything, but I wouldn’t want to stop. Ever. I wouldn’t be able to let her go.

  I exhaled and forced myself to stay exactly where I was. Zach was up. He watched her go, his eyes thoughtful
before he circled around in the opposite direction she was headed. He was going to let her be Pitch’s hurter maker. Hopefully that didn’t mean burning us all to ashes. No, actually hopefully it did.

  Penny went onto the dance floor where Mrs. Stoneburrow stood, an isolated spot of serenity in spite of the chaos. Penny didn’t dance. She just walked around, openly staring at the dancers like they were animals in a zoo. A few guys asked her to dance and she just ignored them.

  “Are you having fun yet?”

  I turned to glance at Zach. “So much.”

  “Wear a glamour of me.”

  “You’re too ugly.”

  “Tell her that you’re wearing a glamour. Smell like black cherries.”

  “Why would I do that? She’s not the only one who wants to burn this entire place to the ground.”

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  I turned to look at him. “Zach, playing Penny games can get very strange very quickly. I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

  “She needs to dance with me like she wants me. That means you.”

  “She can’t dance. Ballet yes, anything else, no. Besides that, your mother could tell it was me in a glamour. She knows all, sees even more.”

  “Have your father flirt with her.”

  I laughed and patted his shoulder. “The answer is no. Do you know why? If I touch her here I will not stop. I will not let her go. I will sink my claws into her arms until blood streams to the ground and I will take her somewhere very dark and very cold and I will never come back.” Steam curled from my nostrils.

  He stared at me for a moment before he took a step back and nodded. “You seem fine.”

  I gripped my glass and smiled at him. “Oh, I am fine. Ask any witch at Rosewood. What I am going to do is go to the bar and stay there until I can’t walk.”

  “Then you’ll probably stay there longer than that.”

  I shot him a hard smile and headed to the bar. I’d almost agreed to his imbecilic idea. He had no idea the kinds of games he played. Did I? I sat down and ordered five glasses of rum. It was a rum kind of island. Each drink had an umbrella. I spun the orange papery thing in my fingers. Penny would love drinks with umbrellas.

 

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