The Alchemist and an Amaretto: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Five

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The Alchemist and an Amaretto: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Five Page 3

by Marie, Annette


  “But then,” Kai said, “you let slip that your brother will be in the Netherlands.”

  Uh, had I mentioned that? Oops. “You guys have your own holiday traditions and I don’t want to—”

  “—ruin our Christmas by staying home alone?” Aaron finished for me, rolling his eyes. “Obviously we’re not leaving you behind.”

  “But—”

  “We already bought your ferry ticket,” Kai added.

  My head was spinning. “But—”

  “Besides,” Aaron concluded airily, “it wouldn’t be a family Christmas without you.”

  I might have teared up at that point.

  But right now, I was the opposite of emotional. Glaring at my insufficient closet, I considered whether I could get out of their diabolical plans to ensure I wasn’t alone on a holiday. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend Christmas with them, but this was Aaron’s family. As in Aaron’s parents.

  As in his rich, powerful, famous parents.

  They ran the Sinclair Academy, the most prestigious mage school/guild on the west coast. Did I mention they were rich? Like, “Aaron bought a house with his trust fund and didn’t even put a dent in it” rich? Whereas I’d spent my formative years learning to tightrope walk the poverty line.

  Grumbling, I threw another pair of jeans onto my bed beside my suitcase, then grabbed my phone and texted Sin. We needed to make an emergency shopping trip for a dress. What kind of fancy-ass academy threw a formal party to celebrate the end of term? And why did I have to attend it?

  “Noooooo!”

  At the high-pitched howl, I leaped up so fast I staggered. I lunged for the door and whipped it open as a crash echoed through my apartment. I flew into the room in time to watch a second lamp hit the floor, the bulb smashing.

  “Stop!” The shriek came from the short green faery standing on the back of my couch, his oversized hands flailing. “Give it back!”

  Up at the ceiling, a second fae hovered, her long silver tail undulating. Her pink eyes glowed, antennae twitching as she watched Twiggy shake his fists. In her small front paws, she held the TV remote.

  “Mine!” Twiggy snarled—and before I could speak, he grabbed a framed photo off the end table and threw it.

  Hoshi darted out of the way. The frame hit the ceiling, glass shattering, then fell to the floor and snapped in two. Hissing, the silvery sylph dive-bombed the faery and knocked him off the sofa with a snap of her tail. Twiggy hit the floor, bounced up, and launched at her with a high-pitched WWE roar.

  Diving forward, I grabbed him out of the air, then barked angrily, “Hoshi!”

  The sylph guiltily released her prize—while still hovering at the ceiling. The remote dropped eight feet and hit the floor. Bits of plastic skittered in every direction.

  “No!” Twiggy howled as he twisted out of my grasp. He seized two pieces and tried to force them back together. “It’s broken! My favorite show is on! If I miss it, I’ll never find out if Margaret’s terminal limp-foam-moms will be cured before—”

  “Twiggy, calm down.” Why had I gotten the pop-culture-obsessed faery addicted to afternoon soap operas? So much regret. “And do you mean lymphoma? Terminal lymphoma?”

  “Limp-foam-moms,” he repeated with certainty, then his face crumpled again. “She might die in this episode!”

  Yep. Definitely needed to ban soap operas next.

  “She won’t die,” I told him. “She’s the main character.”

  “But she might!” Heaving a sob, he looked up. “This is all Hoshi’s fault!”

  He hurled the broken remote. Hoshi dodged the projectile and it soared across the room and collided with the wall, leaving a nice chip in the paint. The sylph lashed her tail and hissed at him. Yelling furiously, Twiggy leaped onto the coffee table.

  I caught him around the middle and tucked him under my arm. He writhed in protest, his twig-like hair scraping me. Hoshi dove from the ceiling and swirled around us, hissing and sticking her small pink tongue out at Twiggy.

  I grabbed her as well and trapped her under my other arm. “You two are worse than a pair of toddlers! Why can’t I leave you alone for even—”

  “Uh … Tori?”

  Choking, I whirled around.

  A man stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the front door, a green-and-gold gift bag in his hand. His shocked hazel eyes flicked between the two fae.

  “Oh,” I said breathlessly. “Hi, Justin.”

  My brother cleared his throat. “The, uh, door was unlocked, so I …”

  “That’s fine,” I said, forcing a cheerful note into my voice. “Um, I guess you haven’t met my … roommates.”

  Hoshi flicked her tail. Twiggy sniffled loudly, muttering under his breath—something about “Margaret” and “doomed.” I didn’t want to know.

  I released Hoshi and she faded out of sight, too shy of strangers to hang around. I carried Twiggy over to the TV and reached around to the hidden row of buttons on the back. With a press of the power button, Margaret’s anguished face filled the screen in all its soft-focus soap-opera glory.

  As Twiggy gasped in disbelieving delight, I plopped him in front of the TV, turned the volume down, and hurried over to Justin.

  “Sorry about that. When they get bored, they start fighting.” Just like toddlers—extra destructive toddlers. At least they hadn’t used any magic … this time.

  With difficulty, he dragged his stare off Twiggy and focused on me. I’d told him about the two fae, but he’d never seen them before—his fault, not mine. He wanted nothing to do with the mythic side of my life, which was about ninety-five percent nowadays.

  I smiled hesitantly. “Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure …”

  As awkwardness settled over us, quiet sorrow weighed me down, but it was an oddly familiar feeling. This wasn’t the first time Justin and I had struggled to connect. We’d had this problem on and off for as long as I could remember—mainly because he’d repeatedly abandoned me to go off and live his own life. Not that he wasn’t allowed to do that, but it was kind of a dick move when your sister depended on you.

  This time, I was the one living my life and he, by his choice, was staying behind.

  I blurted the question without thinking. “Are you sure you don’t want to catch a few beers with—”

  “No.”

  I scowled. He scowled back. If he would just meet my mythic friends, he’d realize we weren’t a bunch of magic-wielding criminals. Once he got to know the guys, he’d figure out they were awesome. I was sure of it.

  Giving up, I stumped to the breakfast bar, ignoring the broken photo frame I’d need to clean up before I finished packing. Justin followed me and slid onto a stool.

  “Excited for your Netherlands trip?” I asked politely. “It’s a work exchange thing, right?”

  “Yeah, it should be fun. We’re starting in Amsterdam with their Drug Unit to learn how they run things there.” He propped an elbow on the counter. “You’re still going to Vancouver Island for two weeks?”

  “Yep. Aaron’s family lives about thirty minutes outside Victoria.”

  “But you two aren’t dating anymore.”

  “We haven’t been dating since late summer. It’s mid-December.” I gave him a hard look. “Why is this so difficult to remember?”

  “I remember it just fine, but I don’t understand why you’re spending the holidays with the parents of a guy you aren’t dating.”

  “He, Kai, and Ezra are my best friends.” I pressed my lips together, feeling mutinous. “We’re practically family.”

  Hurt and anger flashed in Justin’s eyes.

  “And if you’d just meet them, you’d realize why I—”

  “Hey, I’ve been wondering,” he cut in. “Have you and your great new friends murdered anyone else recently?”

  The floor dropped out from under me as visions flashed through my mind: the dark hilt of Ezra’s short sword in my hands; a foot of deadly steel disappearing into a man’s back; the
gurgling gasp of his last breath as he collapsed; the blood spreading beneath his body, steaming on the cold, dirty concrete.

  The shock of the memories was too much for me to hide, and Justin lurched backward, almost toppling his stool. His question had been sarcastic; he hadn’t expected a confirmation.

  “Tori—” he rasped. “You—you didn’t—”

  “N-no,” I stammered. “I mean, it’s not what you think. It was—”

  He shoved off his stool, retreating in disgust as though I were covered in contagious murder germs. “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t even try.”

  “Just let me—”

  “You’re right, Tori.” He turned away, breathing hard through his nose. “I don’t even know you anymore, so I guess those guys are your family now. Have a nice Christmas.”

  “Justin, wait!”

  He was already across the room, his boots thumping up the stairs. The door at the top slammed shut.

  I stood beside the breakfast bar, my hand stretched toward him. Slumping back onto my stool, I stared at the gift he’d brought me. I hadn’t had a chance to give him his.

  With a shimmer of air, Hoshi reappeared. Her small paws touched my shoulder and she nudged her cool muzzle against my cheek.

  Eyes stinging with forbidden tears, I stroked the sylph’s smooth neck. What would I have said to Justin anyway? I had killed again, and there was no way my explanation about how I’d had no choice but to stab an unresisting, injured man in the back would fly with my protector-of-justice brother.

  I had no time to fix this. We were leaving first thing in the morning, meaning Justin would have two whole weeks to stew about how his sister was a bona fide hit woman in a magic gang.

  “No!” Twiggy burst out in a broken-hearted wail. “Margaret died! I knew she would die! This is the worst show ever!”

  I sighed. At least I’d get a break from my roommate drama over the holidays.

  Chapter Four

  “It’s colder than a witch’s britches out here!” Sin complained, tugging her jacket tighter around herself. Her breath puffed white and the icy wind whipped the mist away from her lips.

  “This is tradition,” Aaron replied, leaning against the deck’s railing.

  The ferry’s stern jutted out beyond the rail. Churning water flowed away from the stern, the choppy gray ocean stretching toward the shadow of the terminal from which we’d set sail. Heavy white clouds hugged the coast, obscuring any view of the land.

  “Is that snow?” Sin pointed accusingly at the sky. “I just saw a snowflake.”

  “It’s winter. Snow happens occasionally,” Kai, standing on Aaron’s left, told her. Ezra was beside him, gazing across the iron sea.

  “But we don’t need to stand in it, do we?”

  Aaron put his back against the railing, the wind mussing his copper hair. “You’re cheerful. Who spat in your coffee this morning?”

  “Ew.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m just … you know …”

  “Nervous?” I guessed, burying my numb fingers in my coat pockets.

  She grimaced.

  “What are you nervous about?” Aaron asked. “You’ll get to see your sister and hang out at the academy for a week, and we’ll be around the whole time too.”

  Sin and I exchanged knowing looks. Aaron and Kai were rich kids with rich parents—even if Kai had ditched his family at seventeen. He’d promptly moved into Aaron’s home, so did that even count? They had no concept of what it was like to visit a famous academy as two nobodies.

  I angled my head to look around Kai. “Ezra, when did you first visit the Sinclair Academy?”

  He straightened off the railing and turned, his mismatched eyes thoughtful. My gaze skittered down and lingered on his jawline. To my surprise, he’d shown up this morning clean-shaven for the first time I’d ever seen. Normally, dark scruff accentuated his lower face—more than a five o’clock shadow, but not enough to call it a beard.

  It was sexy as hell, but freshly shaven was just as good. It showed off the strong, clean lines of his jaw.

  “Hmm,” he mused. “This will be my sixth Christmas at the academy, but Aaron and Kai are right. You don’t need to worry. Just stay away from the moat and you’ll be fine.”

  “The … moat?” I repeated blankly.

  “Aaron’s family lives in a castle, you know.”

  I peered at his grave expression, then snorted loudly. “Nice try, Ezra.”

  He widened his eyes innocently. “I’m serious.”

  Aaron laughed.

  Sin gave up on enduring the cold, and Aaron and Kai followed her into the ferry’s warm interior. Ezra, however, didn’t move, so I turned to watch the frothing water tumble away from the ferry’s stern. The engines growled noisily and cloying fumes mixed with the briny ocean scent on the breeze.

  “Should we be worried?” I asked him, propping my elbows on the railing. “For real?”

  “Aaron’s parents will welcome you with open arms,” he assured me. That didn’t mesh with the tiny bit I knew about Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair—mainly, that they didn’t approve of anything their son did. They didn’t like his guild, his career choices, or his girlfriends. “Aside from them, the academy has three types of mythic: the students, the staff, and the non-staff guild members.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Sinclair Academy is a school and a guild. When students graduate at eighteen, they can join the Sinclair guild or move on to a different one, like Aaron and Kai did. If they join the Sinclair guild, they continue with advanced training and might eventually take a staff position.”

  I studied the shadow in his eyes that meant he was holding back his true thoughts.

  “The staff are professional,” he murmured, choosing his words carefully, “but the older students and the members in advanced training can be …”

  “Rich snobs?” I suggested. “Arrogant twits? Condescending snowflakes?”

  “Judgmental,” he finished with a laugh. “I’d call them judgmental. Nearly all the mages at the academy are gifted, and in their eyes, everyone else is lesser.”

  “You aren’t lesser,” I snapped, firing up immediately. “You’re stronger than Aaron or Kai and you—”

  “As an aeromage, I have below-average power,” he interrupted matter-of-factly. “I don’t care what they think, but be prepared for some attitude from the academy alumni.”

  Huffing, I folded my arms. “Good thing Aaron isn’t an arrogant, judgmental twit.”

  Ezra made a noncommittal noise and absently ran his thumb over his chin, then paused as though surprised to find it clean-shaven. As I watched his hand drop, my pulse did an odd, twitchy patter. I reached up and stroked my fingertips across his smooth jaw. He blinked, his gaze darting to mine.

  “What’s with the new look?” I asked, my tone light and teasing.

  “Aaron’s mom prefers it. She can’t stand ‘half a beard.’”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, then blurted, “You shouldn’t change your appearance just because she doesn’t like it.”

  “It wasn’t any trouble. It took less than five minutes.”

  “But—”

  He swept his arm around my waist and scooped me against his side. “Let’s find the others. I can’t feel my ears anymore.”

  I gulped as he pulled me through the door. He held me casually close as we walked past rows of blue-cushioned seats on steel frames bolted to the floor. Panoramic windows offered an endless view of steely water, the faint silhouette of land in the distance.

  Ezra didn’t lower his arm until we’d reached Aaron, Kai, and Sin, who were lounging on seats. I scooted past their legs and took the spot beside Sin. Ezra slid in after me and sat on my other side. Stifling a yawn with one hand, he slouched on the cushions and let his head fall back.

  My heart tumbled all over itself as I exhaled an entire lungful of air. I whipped out my phone and started scrolling, pretending to be absorbed in my third cousin’s baby-daddy drama.


  So … I maybe had a small problem.

  Aaron, Kai, and Ezra were my best friends. Like family. I’d dated Aaron for a couple of months before the relationship fizzled out, but our friendship had solidified in the aftermath and was stronger than ever. Kai was mouthwateringly gorgeous, but he was also a playboy—sort of a playboy—and that alone would’ve been all the “no” I needed had he ever shown interest in me. Besides that, he was in love with someone else.

  Then there was Ezra. He was my sweetheart of a terrifying demon mage. Thoughtful, generous, always had a smile for me no matter what was going on. He could make me laugh with the perfectly timed arch of his eyebrow. His buttery smooth voice soothed my worries, and his touch …

  His touch, his embrace—they used to calm me.

  Hunched in my seat, I glared at my phone. It was all Aaron’s fault. At the end of our first workout together, he’d made me sit on Ezra during competitive pushups to sabotage the aeromage’s victory. The combination of hot exertion, flexing muscles, and the motion itself had triggered something in my horny brain, and I could. Not. Stop. Thinking. About. It.

  For six freaking weeks!

  Every time Ezra got close to me, the memories all came rushing back. His body radiating heat, his skin slick and steaming, his breathing heavy. Hard muscles bunching and flexing under my thighs.

  My breath whooshed out of my lungs. Sin glanced at me, then resumed her conversation with Aaron. I slid down in my seat, guilty and flushed.

  Beside me, Ezra’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed. Maybe I couldn’t get past the pushups thing because I hadn’t seen him enough lately to … desensitize … or whatever. Yeah. That was probably it.

  Probably. If it wasn’t, I didn’t know what the hell I would do.

  * * *

  Aaron’s SUV wound along the twisting road. Trees crowded the pavement, barren branches reaching toward the gray sky. Monstrous evergreens and spruces stood proudly among their leafless cousins, thick boughs dusted with crisp white snow—rare for this climate. Usually, it rained nonstop.

 

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