I shrugged. “You're right. I can do it in ten, instead.”

  “Impossible. Mr. Reeves should stop sending idiots and teach us himself.” The entire classroom seemed to perk up at that last statement.

  Ah, that's why they're upset. They wanted to be taught by the genius hex-master. I could sympathize. Anyone with half a brain would try to learn from him if they had a chance. “Want to make a bet? I'll release your teacher from every hex he's under. And I'll do it within ten minutes. If you win, I leave with him, and John Reeves will have to teach you instead.”

  “It was nice knowin' ya.” Dobbs smirked and high-fived one of his buddies.

  “What if you win?” Pepper asked beside me.

  “If I win, you're stuck with me until you run me off or John removes me personally.”

  “You know him personally?”

  “Of course, didn’t you notice he was with me when I got here? We’ve been friends for years.” I responded, lying through my teeth. I mean, we did know each other for years, but friends? Not so much. Not anymore.

  “To be honest with you, I'm here because your hexes just aren't enough to catch his interest. I'm supposed to bring out your potential.”

  Oh, that got them good and mad. “Ten minutes works for me. Everyone else?” Pepper asked as she stepped up to the board. She touched a switch and a giant timer appeared, floating in the air behind me. Within a moment, she set it to ten minutes. The rest of the class raised their hands, even Kenneth.

  A thrill of excitement shot through me as I had a chance to view these hexes up close. What kind of hexes were they to trap one of John's assistants like this?

  “Go!” she shouted, and I immediately got to work.

  “You'll never find all the marks,” Kenneth sneered.

  “Who said I need to find marks to make this work? If the hex isn't solid to begin with, anyone with half a brain can break out of them.” I took out two bottles of water and a jar of fine, white powder.

  “What is that?” Pepper asked.

  “I'll tell you in a minute.” With the powder container in hand, I walk up to the teacher and examine his symptoms. Hexes were easy to break if you knew their universal weaknesses. Like salt.

  “Close your eyes,” I said as I sprinkled some of it in my hand. He does what I asked and I blow it on his face, instantly dissolving the half-baked slime hex someone had used to silence him.

  “These demons!” he shouts. “Wait until I'm loose. I'm going to the board of directors for the Academy. I will tell them everything. You can't treat me like this, do you know who I am?”

  I took a marker from my jacket pocket and immediately marked a hex on his cheek, silencing him immediately.

  “Phew,” I said as I looked at Kenneth. “Relative of yours?”

  Some of the kids laughed and he glared at me. “Of course not.”

  “Oh, he sounded exactly like you.” Ignoring his reply, I went about dissolving the simple hexes with the pulverized salt I kept with me at all times. Muscle stiffening, slime hexes, a few painful rashes. Geesh, these kids really went all out.

  When the salt stopped working, I grabbed my water bottle and did the same, splashing it directly on the body where the hex touched him. I didn't need to find the hex marks if I could dissolve it on his body. I was down to one in less than five minutes.

  The last one, though, was pretty tricky. It was the one that kept his legs in place. He reached out to grab me and I smacked his hand away. “Don't touch me while I'm working.”

  He reached up to swipe at the mark on his cheek and I ignored him, focusing on the hex that water and salt couldn't dissolve. “Who did this one?”

  I glanced up and found the classroom eerily silent. “I'm serious. Who did the leg trap hex?”

  “Why do you want to know?” asked Jack.

  “It's a hex with a solid framework. It's the only impressive one of the bunch.” More than that, it couldn’t be dissolved by simple means. I glanced around at the hexes all over the ground, inspected his clothes, and couldn't find a hex mark with any of the archival-level inks that cost a fortune. I want to know how this happened.

  “No one did it? This is the perfect opportunity to brag.” The teacher reached for me again, and I pulled a slime trap from my bracer and smacked it on his chest. Instantly, a stretchy, taffy-like material wrapped around him, locking his hands to his side.

  The kids laughed in surprise, but I was focused. The timer was ticking. “I'm talking here.”

  “You're almost out of time.”

  I glanced up at the clock and smiled. “Thanks, Pepper.” I touched the podium, feeling the power flow from the stage. In a moment, I isolated the hex mark, reached out, and drew a line through it, breaking the curse.

  He was able to move and started to run toward the door, slime hex wrapped around him.

  “The hex was good. But I can teach you a better, less complicated, and more binding hex.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I want to know who made this hex.”

  No one said anything. That's fine. Trust takes time. “I'll teach you anyway. We're all trapped here until lunch and it's better to work on your hex abilities than to be bored.”

  “Are you going to release the hexes off the teacher?'

  I shrugged. “He's the one who ran away before I could unhex him. If he wants them off, he'll have to come back to me. Or figure out how to do it himself.”

  “Savage,” one of the kids muttered.

  “He must have told you what the hexes were.” Kenneth wasn't going to give up.

  “Nope,” I said as I put away my packets of salt and the near-empty water bottle.

  “There's no way.” Several others in the class also disagreed, letting out their complaints in soft mutterings.

  I turned to face the class and hopped up on the lab table. One by one, I observed their expressions. Nine students. All young. Some were obviously rebellious. Some ignored me from the get-go. It annoyed all of them that I ruined their hard work.

  The door opened and I saw John standing at the entrance. The teacher glared at him and rushed out, slime still stretched around his body.

  “Did you need something?” I called, trying to reinforce the belief that we were BFFs. I felt a little embarrassed, but I desperately needed to know how that undissolvable hex was made.

  “It's time for lunch. Is everything okay?”

  I nodded and waved my hand at the class. “If you want to know how I did it, make sure you come back after lunch, ready to work. I can teach you how to make unbreakable hexes.”

  “Promise?” Pepper's eager grin invigorated me.

  How unexpected. “It's a promise.”

  “You won't run away?”

  I looked at John who was making his way toward me, children parting like the seas, letting him pass by. “Where would I go?'

  The smile that stretched across his lips should be outlawed. My heart pounded as he oozed confidence and sex appeal. And danger. He’s not the kid I used to crush on. He's a client.

  “Are you ready for lunch?” He held his arm out for me, and I hesitated for just a moment before hooking my arm through his.

  Okay, not going to lie, the sudden awe on the faces of the kids was more than satisfying. So was the muscled forearm my hand rested on.

  6

  Veronica

  The walk to the dining area was as easy as stepping through the doorway.

  “Do they spell all the doors to deliver them straight here, or is that a special perk?”

  “Special perk. We're troublemakers,” Pepper said as she stood at my side.

  “More like a prison,” Jack said as he pulled his sister toward the serving area.

  “Why is that?” I asked John as we stepped to the side.

  “I'll tell you later.” He patted my hand and I realized we were still standing super close. The kids filed passed us one by one and I stood there with John as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Too bad, it felt like I was holding an exploding fireball in my hands.

  I was thankful for the escort but felt a smidge uncomfortable when the entire camp turned in our direction. I gripped my bag strap tighter.

  The Kitchen Witch Academy grounds had a giant eating area. The domed atmosphere kept the air the perfect temperature. They worked round the clock to keep the spells going for the grassy knoll and perfectly symmetrical trees lining the area. It was perfect for picnics or pick-up games of whatever sport the students wanted to play.

  And it was the last place I wanted to be. For one, I'd already filled up on the plate of goodies he offered me earlier. And secondly, it was too open. If I was supposed to protect him, I should at least do my job half-ass right. And an open area like this gave the bad guys too much time to plan.

  “Now that we've delivered them to the dining area, let's go set you up with your new place.”

  “What new place?” I asked as he dragged me back through the doorway.

  This time we landed on a well-worn path leading further into the forest. The area was protected by a giant fence. A broken sign hung haphazardly from a pole and a surge of nostalgia welled up inside me. I know this path. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To a place that might bring back some memories.”

  Did that mean he remembered me? I pulled my hand from his arm and set down my bag. With absolute sincerity and more than a little desperation to not continue this conversation, I decided to be honest. “I don't want to walk down memory lane. I have far more nightmares than good memories of my stay at this academy, so I'd appreciate it if you'd show me to your quarters, let me see your lab, or go wherever else you travel. My job is to protect you. And that starts with knowing where we stand. You’re my client. That’s the extent of the relationship I want right now.”

  The warmth in his gaze iced over and he clenched his jaw, momentarily. “Veronica–” he began.

  “I’m serious. There are some assholes out there who are gunning for you. If I make a mistake here, I will lose my job. And I need it. So let’s focus on the job at hand. Show the way to your place.”

  “I have no need of protection. If anything you may be the one–”

  A sudden cat screech interrupted whatever he was going to say, and we both spun around. John began running in the direction opposite the tree-lined fence.

  With a cry of surprise, I yanked my bag up off the ground and chased after him. A bundle of fur pounced toward us the way only familiars could pull off. Half magic, half feline grace, it reached us in no time.

  John opened his arms but the cat jumped at me, instead. I panicked and braced for impact. The moment it hit me, claws dug into my jacket, tearing the leather slightly. “It's terrible,” the cat said with a desperate cry, staring up at me with its bright eyes.

  “What is it?” I asked, cradling the cat with one arm as best as I could, glancing at John. His irritated expression almost made me laugh, but I knew better. If I laughed at a familiar, they were well within their rights to retaliate for as long as they are offended by the action. And cats could hold grudges through nine lives.

  “Your hut,” he gasped out the words, swiveling his head to look at John. Then, in a melodramatic way, threw his head against my shoulder. “It's terrible. Already such a tiny place to share with my human. And then they wreck everything.”

  My heart slammed in my chest and a slight thrill twisted my gut. It's terrible to be excited, I knew, but this was what I was hired for. It was also hard not to gloat when I forced my expression into what I hoped was solemn concern. “Take me to your hut.”

  He took off in a slow jog and I caught up easily.

  “Shouldn't we be in a hurry? Use a witchy doorway or something?”

  “No. I'd like to keep attention at a minimum.”

  “I hate to tell you, but this guy's got a set of lungs on him. I'm sure every familiar within a country mile heard him.”

  “What's a country mile?” the familiar asked as he nestled in the crook of my arm.

  “It's another way to say a long way away.”

  “So you're saying I'm loud?”

  “I'm saying you're a perfect little screech demon”

  With a humph of irritation, the cat jumped out of my arms and dashed ahead of us. I remembered a tiny fluffball of anger and disgust when we were kids. Did he get a new familiar or did that cat grow up beautifully?

  The run wasn't that long, but I was tired from being on the run all night, and my boots weren't exactly running-friendly. So I was thankful the moment a yurt-style building came into sight. We came to a stop at the stairs leading up to the deck the yurt was built on.

  Why they still decided to have us all camp outside instead of staying in the Academy dorms was beyond me.

  “That's not a hut,” I said between short gasps of breath. I dropped my bag on the ground and opened it up, taking out my hex kit.

  John came up beside me. “It's a small dwelling. Last time they gave me four bedrooms and then sent multiple people over to help clean. I like peace and quiet.”

  “It's also remote, I see.”

  A glance around the area told me there was no place to hide. I took a few slips of paper from my hex book and tore them free, whispering the incantation to set it off. Fire ate through the spells, burning the paper to ash. From the sigil, smoke fanned out.

  “You're using a wind hex? I don't think I've seen this combination of hexes before.”

  “It's an old sailor's hex. If you're not careful, you can pick up embers and spread them far and wide, bringing fire to sails and ships. They were outlawed during the Second Barbary War.”

  “It's an illegal hex?”

  “Only on the ocean,” I muttered as I wrapped the wind around the smoke, using it to guide the smoke. I could feel the flow. It was like an extension of my fingertips, searching every nook and cranny around his yurt.

  “Are you going to burn my hut down?”

  “Why do you call it a hut? It's a yurt. Round, made of cloth, easy to put up and take down. And no, I won't. I have precise control of this spell. There's nothing around here.” When nothing living could be found around us, I spread the spell out as far as it would go. The smoke hit something living. I had a moment to sense it before a giant sneeze dissolved the spell, leaving me feeling dirty and gross, though the sneezer was far away.

  “Three people heading our way. I guess they didn't want to use magic, either?”

  “He has the area warded so you can't use teleportation magic within 100 yards.” His familiar sniffed disdainfully at me. I leaned down and scratched under his chin, half expecting him to claw my hands or bite me ‘til I bled like he used to as a kitten. Thankfully, he lifted his chin so I could scratch a bit more.

  I put my hand on the ground and reached out with my magic, looking for traps or clues to what happened. There was a security barrier temporarily wrapped around his home. It had a feline touch. “Your handiwork,” I asked the familiar as I lifted my chin toward the yurt.

  “Yeah. You like it?”

  “Not bad. You have more common sense than that guy,” I muttered quietly as I took my hex kit with me.

  “What do you have in your hands?”

  I cut an amused gaze at John. “Stuff I need to do my job. You don't have to teleport to steal something. May I take a look around?” I know it was my job, but this was still his temporary home.

  “Go ahead,” he said and I winked at his familiar.

  “I was asking him.”

  His familiar laughed. “I like her. Come with me. I'll show you around.”

  We trudged up the steps and I wandered around, putting my eyes on the pieces I'd only sensed with my smoke and wind magic earlier. John strode to intercept the three heading our direction and I opened the door flap.

  Inside I found a wreck. Someone went to town on his stuff, ripping the bed mattress open, and tearing off the doors to cabinets.

  “You said they were involved. Who are they? How many people?”

  “I heard two voices, but more feet than that.”

  “Could you recognize them if you heard them again?” I picked up the small dining table that had been knocked over and his familiar jumped up, sitting perfectly still.

  “No. Most of you humans sound the same. One of them did have something that burned my nose. A scent of something I used to eat all the time.” He blinked at me as he spoke.

  “What was the scent?” I wanted to look around but had no idea where to begin. There was so much destruction that I was left speechless. We needed to wait for John to show us what, if anything, was missing.

  “I can't remember. The thing I used to eat looked like strawberries, but it made my mouth burn. This is so frustrating!”

  My mind drew a blank, as well, but soothing this little guy was more important. “We'll figure it out.” It's not the first time I had to question a familiar. Most of my hex ingredients were traded with familiars. Hexes were still frowned upon, so publicly trading in materials was bad for business. I learned a long time ago that coaxing a familiar takes time.

  I picked him up and walked outside.

  John stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, looking irritated. He faced off against two people in suits. One of those was a lady. The third person was someone I was all too familiar with. Baker. His glare could have sliced me to ribbons had I not been standing behind - ahem - beside his cousin.

  “What's going on?” I whispered loudly to John.

  He tilted his head toward me, mouth near my ear. “They want to search my room. I told them it was just a kid's prank.” His breath tickled my ear and I shivered slightly at the tickling sensation.

  “Who is this?” The lady in the bright green pants suit asked.

  “My assistant–”

  “His assistant–”

  Both Baker and John responded at the same time.

  “What they said.”

  The other man looked very familiar. And that familiarity came with a solid dose of supreme irritation.

 

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