Witch of All Witches: Tales of Xest #4

by Donna Augustine

  “Pass the buttered buns?” I said to Mertie, who had already taken one.

  She took a deep breath before she lifted the plate to me, a warning in her eyes.

  I’d planned on taking two, but looking at the bun on her plate with one small nibble, I downsized. Had Bertha gotten to the buttered buns as well? Was there nothing safe to eat anymore?

  The second I felt the roll’s bricklike surface, it was clear we’d lost the only saving grace of this meal. Still, it had been heavily buttered. That had to help somewhat.

  I nearly chipped a tooth with my first bite, and whatever the stuff on it was, it bore no relation to butter.

  “How’s the buttered bun? It’s a new recipe I’m trying out,” Bertha asked.

  “It’s good.”

  She smiled but eyed up the bun sitting on my plate.

  “I’m waiting for some of the stew. My favorite part is dipping them.” Hopefully it would soften it up some as well.

  I felt Dusty brush my ankles, looking for his share. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. I broke off a small piece, leaning down and letting him take it from my hand, knowing he’d set off a dust bomb in the middle if I didn’t.

  His invisible tongue lapped it off my palm and then there were tiny gagging noises, followed by some weird chirping I’d never heard. The finale was clouds of dust as he hopped away.

  The table looked at me, all with similar expressions: Did you have to make this night even worse? We really needed a dust cloud, too?

  Hawk walked in the back door, the only one who was late for dinner.

  Oscar got up abruptly. “Hawk, pressing matter we need to discuss,” he said.

  The only thing pressing Oscar was the cinder block against his stomach if he got any more of that bun down. I wanted to fling a cinder block at his head, but only because I hadn’t thought of that excuse first. I needed to be more resourceful and faster going forward.

  The ladle was handed to me. There had to be a way to get rid of this food. I’d gotten witches stuck on ice for hours, coated Gillian’s face with cocoa, slayed dragons, but I was helpless against a plate of food? I was so transfixed on my dilemma that I was oblivious to all other things until I heard Bibbi gasp.

  My attention sprang back to the room, and I was ready to use the ladle to bludgeon something or someone to death.

  It didn’t take long to find the problem. Words were floating in the air, glowing white, as if a skyscraper had written something in bolts of lightning on a dark evening sky.

  Relinquish your magic or we will be forced to take further action.

  The message hovered in the air for a few more seconds before crackling out, like one of those handheld sparklers.

  No signature, no name. No deadline. None of it was needed. Everyone in the room knew what this was about. We’d all been waiting for something. This wasn’t Lou or Xazier. They wouldn’t have been able to pull something like this off within the boundaries of the broker building. The problem had reached upper management.

  Further action. The looming threat of the unknown was even worse than having it spelled out. It made me think of the worst possible outcomes, like not only my death and destruction but everyone around me, as well.

  The only sound in the room was the crackling fire and a few audible swallows.

  “Relinquish your magic? Do they mean all of it? How are you supposed to… Do they mean…” Bibbi shook her head. “You’d have to go back to Rest, or that would…” Her words ran dry as she looked at me, and then to Hawk and Oscar, who were standing next to me.

  “Kill me. Yes,” I replied when no one else had the heart to say it.

  Hawk stepped forward, laying a hand on my shoulder. “She’s not relinquishing anything,” he said.

  No one spoke. No one knew what to say, and I didn’t blame them. I didn’t have the right words either. Further action might be taken against me, and it might include everyone in this room. It might even mean against Xest and everyone in it.

  If it weren’t Hawk standing beside me, daring someone to say differently, there might’ve been further discussion. I saw all the questions they had unspoken in their eyes, but no one said a word.

  “Well, we shouldn’t let this little bit of messy news ruin dinner,” Bertha said, filling in the gaping silence.

  Mertie groaned beside me, and I didn’t have the energy to shoot her a look. I felt the same. The only thing that had been good about the poorly received message was that it interrupted dinner.

  I was slumped on the couch. By the time dinner was done, I’d felt like I’d gone twenty rounds with Ali between the stress and the food.

  Bibbi came over and sat beside me.

  “I hope you know I would never think you should… Well, you know,” Bibbi said in a near whisper.

  “You are the last person I know that would ever tell me to roll over, and I know that.” It didn’t mean that she shouldn’t. If I were her, what would I be thinking? This girl shows up in Xest, somehow ends up with even more magic, and now they have to pay the price for it? I wouldn’t blame any of them if they told me to give it all back and go to Rest. Not that I knew how that could be done.

  Mertie was sitting on the opposite couch, watching and giving me a knowing look. “There’s more to this, isn’t there? What are you holding back? Why do you look guilty of something, of which I’m sure you aren’t, because you’re too nice to do anything bad?”

  If she knew some of the things happening lately, she might change her mind. I’d done plenty of bad things in the last few weeks. Maybe that was the problem? Maybe that was why they wanted all the magic back? They were onto me.

  Hawk, the only other person left downstairs, was leaning on the wall, not saying much of anything.

  “They were upset with the amount of magic I had, but I think that last go-around, when I caught Dread but then got thrown off the hill? I might’ve gotten a little more on the way out.” I took a deep breath, waiting to see what they’d say.

  “More?” Bibbi asked, gasping.

  “I don’t know for sure, but I think maybe.” No. Definitely. I’d suspected right after, but there was no doubt anymore.

  “Can’t you just give the extra back? No harm done?” Bibbi asked.

  “I’m not sure that’s an option anymore,” Mertie said, getting up, probably to go to bed. She never said goodnight, so you couldn’t be sure.

  Bibbi looked at me, silently asking if that was true. I nodded.

  Oscar walked in the back room. “Why are you two looking so glum? It’ll get worked out,” he said, taking a seat on the couch.

  Bibbi nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure it will. I’ll see you guys in the morning. I’m wiped out from all the drama today.” She unwound herself from the couch, making a production of stretching as she made her way out of the room.

  Oscar was staring at her as she left, and there was a little too much heat there for my liking. When had he started wanting Bibbi? Not that he shouldn’t. She was hot, funny, balls bigger than some of the boulders on the east side of Xest. But when had he started noticing?

  “What’s that look?” I asked him.

  “Hmm?” He turned my way, nearly oblivious to how he’d stared.

  “You were eyeing up Bibbi like she was a roast you wanted to sink your teeth into.”

  He let out a short laugh and smiled. “She does have a really good…” His hands, which were making curving motions, dropped as he got a good look at my expression.

  “Don’t go there,” I said.

  “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

  I might be a newcomer to Xest, but I’d been here long enough to know the class system. It might not be a thing in the broker building and our crew, but would someone of Oscar’s rank date a Whimsy? When had Oscar seriously dated anyone, for that matter?

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. I just don’t want you hurting her. She’s not the kind of girl that I think you’d be compatible with.” For measured words, they still didn’
t sound very good.

  “What kind of girl is that?” There was a challenge in his question.

  “The kind that disappears before you fall asleep and has no problem never speaking to you again.” Bibbi might be a lot tougher than she looked, but not where it counted. Deep in the middle of her chest was a soft spot. I wouldn’t have anyone taking advantage of it or stripping her of the only softness she might possess.

  “I’m not saying I’m going to pursue her, but I might be capable of being more than what you’re assuming.” He shrugged, not looking overly offended.

  “Maybe you are, but have you been capable of more in the past?”

  “No, but neither has Hawk.”

  The only thing his argument did was expand on why I shouldn’t be involved with Hawk. Good work, Oscar. I’d needed that reminder.

  10

  I wasn’t giving up but couldn’t drag them down with me. I hadn’t come this far to lose everything I’d worked for, but taking this place down? Not an option. I didn’t have the right.

  My door opened. Hawk walked in and closed it behind him. All the normal sounds, creaks, and humming of the building disappeared.

  I scooted up in bed, knowing this wasn’t going to be a lying down kind of conversation. When Hawk sought me out, it never was.

  “You didn’t say much downstairs.” He stood at the foot of my bed with his battle face on. It was a simple statement, but it came out more like a declaration of the war he was gearing up to wage, this one against me.

  “I didn’t have much to say. I’m still taking it in and thinking it over. I’m trying to not be reactive.” It sounded good, logical, calm, and thought out. It was exactly what I was doing, and there was no reason to tell him where my decision might be leaning.

  He crossed his arms, watching me. “You do realize you can’t give them what they want?”

  I bent my knees, wrapping my arms around them as I tried to wrap my head around what had happened. I’d known something was coming. We all had. I’d been warned by Lou and Xazier, what seemed like ages ago. But the warning had been from lower-level personnel, not upper management. You couldn’t fight heaven and hell, could you? Especially when they both wanted the same thing? In this case, it being my destruction. The truth was that I had magic to spare. Couldn’t I somehow give a bit back? Just enough to calm things down? The hill had given me more somehow. There had to be a way to return some of it.

  “What if there is a way to compromise? Can I afford to turn them down?”

  “We’ll find out when we do.” He looked like he was carved from granite.

  “This isn’t your problem. This is my issue.”

  He hesitated for just long enough to make it clear he was choosing his words. Hawk always knew exactly what he wanted to say. Perhaps he was trying to figure out a nice way to tell me he’d help me out as much as he could but then I’d be on my own? Was he finally seeing that we couldn’t fight this war?

  “Not acceptable. You live in my building. You work at my business. Any attack or threat against you is personal. We need to call Lou and Xazier in separately for meetings. I want to know exactly what they know.” His tone was all business. Not only didn’t he see he might not be able to fight this war, he thought it was winnable.

  “If there’s a way I can give some of this magic back, maybe it’s not worth the battle?”

  “The message said all.” His gaze was laser focused.

  “If it comes down to destroying Xest, or the people here, I go back and live like a regular human in Rest. I did it once and survived.” And then I’d come here and realized what life could be like. I’d fallen in love with Xest. It was the first real home I’d ever had. That was why I’d never be the cause of its destruction.

  “That’s not acceptable.” His tone was heavy, as if that was truly a fate worse than death.

  Were regular humans that unacceptable to him? Was my going back to Rest really worth destroying lives over? Destroying Xest for? I was one witch. There were plenty of others.

  “You can get another broker. You’d have a line around the block. And as far—”

  “I don’t want another witch. Why are you so ready to give up?”

  He didn’t want another witch? I couldn’t let those words go to my head, and they easily could. It wasn’t me, exactly. He’d just never had an obstacle in his life. He hadn’t won me yet. Or conquered me. Whichever way you wanted to see it. That was what this was about. If I went back to Rest, it would be harder for him.

  Still, I got off my bed. It was safer that way.

  “Why? If I’m giving up so easily, constantly throwing in the towel or running—”

  “Then you’re finally admitting it?” He leaned his shoulder on the wall, waiting for me to say the words, as if I’d admitted to a felony.

  Even if I were guilty of it, which I wasn’t, there would be no admitting anything. How was a sane person supposed to react? He’d spent the majority of the time I’d known him either trying to control me or pushing me out. If he thought that was the foundation for hopping into bed with him, he was crazy.

  “I admit nothing of the sort. I’m merely repeating your complaints. If I’m so difficult, why do you keep trying? Why not move on to someone who’ll be easy like Gil…” I stuttered out, unable to form her name. Even the sound of it in my head made me feel like I was sucking on a dirty penny. I tried to avoid walking past the Sweet Shop whenever possible, even if it meant walking several blocks out of the way in the stinging wind.

  “You think I should pursue Gillian?” he asked calmly, as if giving it some thought, a small smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

  In for a dirty penny, in for a nauseating pound.

  “Why not? She’s about as easy as it gets. She’ll cut your food for you, say whatever she thinks will please you, probably do cartwheels on command if you’re so inclined.” She’d probably do anything he wanted, whenever, however. My pulse ratcheted up at the mere idea of it, and here he was, smiling like a cat with a bowl of cream. I didn’t know if it was because he could sense my heart racing from the fury of the idea or because maybe he was having a change of mind and Gillian seemed like a good idea now.

  He shrugged slightly. “What if I don’t like easy?”

  My heart slowed just enough to be noticeable, which was way more than enough to annoy me. I had no right to be jealous over this man, or relieved he didn’t want Gillian. He wasn’t mine, and I didn’t want him to be. He’d be nothing but a headache.

  “Then you’re saying this is all about the chase?” I’d known it, but it did my brain good to hear it. This was why my gut kept telling me to stay away from him. Nothing but trouble.

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Sounded like it to me.”

  He came close enough that when I breathed in, all I could smell was him. There was something about the warm scent of him that made me breathe deeper, made my heart flutter and race, warmed everything in me.

  I held my ground but looked at my nails, examining my cuticles, when I couldn’t hold his gaze. I wished I was as unaffected as I pretended to be, but I knew where this might lead, and I wasn’t too proud to know my weaknesses.

  He lifted his hand, threading it through my hair, tugging my head back and forcing me to look at him. My chest rose and fell sharply as I saw the raw need in his eyes. I prayed he wouldn’t kiss me at the same time my back arched.

  His head dipped down and my eyes fluttered closed.

  Instead of his lips meeting mine, they grazed my ear.

  “If I wanted you in bed, we’d already be there. This isn’t about the chase,” he said.

  “Really? You think so? You could just get me in bed at any point you want?” It was enough to drive a little steel back into my spine. I pulled away from him, putting a couple of steps in between us.

  “Yes,” he said. I could hear the smile in his tone.

  He didn’t follow, but it felt like he was granting me my space, which enraged me
more.

  “If I’m so easy, why haven’t you worked your magic yet? And by magic, I mean your charms that are so outstanding that I’d trip over my own feet in my rush to sleep with you.” I took another step back and crossed my arms, all of which he watched and seemed amused by.

  “Because if I slept with you now, you’d wake up the next day and push me away harder.” He nodded to my current stance, as if I was proving his point right now.

  “What does that matter? What if once is enough? Why do you assume there would be more times needed?” I buried my fear that it wouldn’t be enough for me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever tire of this man if I got a true taste of him. Even this cat-and-mouse game we were playing was becoming addictive. But I needed to hear him admit it. The pretense that this could be anything real, having that lingering out there as if it were a possibility, was almost a drug unto itself.

  “It won’t be. When I finally do fuck you, I want you to be there with me, one hundred percent, not thinking of what the morning might bring, or the next week.”

  “You’re good. Does this normally work for you?”

  He smiled and then dipped his head to my throat slowly. So slowly I could’ve moved out of the way at any moment, and yet I stood there, daring him to do his worst.

  His lips found the column of my throat and slowly moved over my flesh, while he wrapped one arm around my waist, curving me into him, not that I needed help. It was as if my back’s normal position became an arch when I was anywhere near him.

  Feathering kisses along the column of my throat. His hand running up my back in almost a massage.

  I was putty in his hands and I didn’t care. My big talk a second ago vanished, leaving nothing but a groan in its wake. I was incapable of having a lucid discussion as the roughness of his shadowed jaw grazed my skin, sending tingles everywhere.

  He straightened.

  “Good night, Tippi.”

  He walked out, leaving me standing there angrier than ever, but at myself.

  He was right. He could have me at any time he wanted. I barely put up a fight, if you could call those couple of steps a fight. After he’d touched me that last time, I hadn’t even bothered trying to fight. As soon as contact was made, as soon as his flesh touched mine? I might as well destroy the eject button, because I’d crash and burn just for the thrill of the fiery spiral down. As much as I wanted to fool myself and say it wouldn’t happen again, I couldn’t delude myself that much. The only chance I had was if he never touched me again, or I avoided seeing him, which was never going to happen.