The Scary Godmother

by Vivienne Savage

  Her chin raised slightly, dark eyes watching me. Daring me to say something.

  I didn’t. I flicked the crystal wand again, an alteration to the glamour raising the neckline up above the scarring, then added opaque lace sleeves to camouflage the burns beneath. Another wave and her prim ballerina bun became a stylish updo with a few curls piled on top. Last, but not least, I switched her ballet flats for low heels—crimson red for a splash of bold color.

  “Could you please help the professor into her seat?”

  The crow executed a formal bow and offered Tristal his hand. Once she accepted, he walked her to the rickshaw and assisted her up. Despite all that magic, despite running low on the reserves in my box, her expression still betrayed nothing.

  Shit. Was this not enough to impress her?

  Maybe the car would have been a better idea.

  With the final dredges of faerie dust lingering in the Dream Box, I wove another Rags-to-Riches glamour around myself. Thinking of silkworms spinning luxurious cocoons, I transformed my leggings and sweats into a cocktail dress, because no one wore ball gowns anymore.

  To my immense relief, the emerald fabric came out as silk. It only took me a moment to decide green wasn’t really my color, and with another swish of my wand, the color shifted to a dark plum.

  A final tap glamoured my sneakers into golden heels as a little homage to the original charm. Glass had been a French addition to the tale and wasn’t practical footwear.

  The crow—shit, I should have asked his name, if he even had one—took my hand and guided me into the rickshaw to join my professor, sitting opposite her before he took his seat.

  True to his word, he learned fast and pedaled us down the floor. “Where shall we go, mistress?”

  “The courtyard will do, Nero.” Tristal removed her own wand and the emergency exit doors blew open to reveal the quad. Pilar and Liadan waited among a host of other students eager to see me pass or fail. With his back straight and proud, Nero pedaled us down the curving stone path down a line of vehicles in varying quality and states of magical decay.

  We passed a zucchini limousine, a sleek eggplant race car, and a guava carriage that smelled amazing. Then we passed a soggy turnip truck that was already halfway through the reversion process to a vegetable. Most of the vehicles still resembled fruits and vegetables, until we came to a gold Mercedes with the top down that I suspected belonged to Pilar. On the return loop, we passed a few more cars with probable passing grades.

  On her instructions, Nero parked the rickshaw, helped us down, and escorted us back inside.

  “Now then, for your grade…”

  Licking my lips didn’t help. Worry had turned my tongue to sandpaper.

  Professor Tristal’s smile warmed. “An A-plus. Well done.”

  “An A?” My voice squeaked up.

  “Plus. You demonstrated creativity within the boundaries of the assigned task, displayed empathy for my personal needs, and you did not frivolously squander your reserves on unnecessary flash beyond your capabilities. I imagine you still retain some dust.”

  “A little.”

  “Good. Unless you have no other option, you should never use every last speck, because you never know if an incident will occur after you’ve depleted it.”

  “I’ll remember that, Professor, thank you.”

  “Good. Now, please restore Nero to his former body and exit into the quad.”

  “Must she?” Nero asked, frowning. He ran his fingers down the front of the sweet jacket I’d made for him, apparently liking it.

  Tristal sighed. “It will only last a few hours.”

  “A few hours is all I need.”

  She raised an incredulous brow. “For what?”

  I didn’t wait to see what the hell a male crow could possibly want with a human body, hurrying outside and leaving the pair to their conversation.

  The moment I stepped outside, the cold wind cut through my dress, a harsh reminder to unravel the glamour back to my original sweats, leggings, and snow boots. Tristal must have used a glamour to maintain our personal warmth while inside the rickshaw.

  Pilar and Liadan crowded around me.

  “Well?” Pilar demanded.

  Liadan rubbed her mittened hands together to conserve heat. “How did you do? Your rickshaw was lovely, Sky.”

  “She gave me an A-plus for creativity and empathy. What about you guys?”

  Pilar mumbled something about a B and Liadan received an A.

  “It was the car. The engine died right as we left the room,” Pilar admitted.

  “Well, it looked beautiful. One day you’ll have the oomph to keep it running.”

  For now, all that mattered was that we had passed. We’d survived one of our hardest faerie exams and would pass through to the next semester.

  23

  The Spirit of Christmas

  With final exams behind us and another semester under my belt, I hurried outside Friday evening to meet Gabriel in front of the townhouse. He’d already pulled up and was chatting with one of our mage neighbors as they conducted a bizarre experiment on their half of the snow-covered lawn.

  God, I hoped they didn’t blow another sinkhole into the flowerbeds. Pilar hadn’t forgiven them for a week the last time they’d wrecked the property while testing out their volatile concoctions.

  “Wow. You look great.”

  Thrilled to be in the open, sans final exam stress, I looped an arm around his shoulders and stood on tiptoe, kissing him once. “Thank you.” I’d borrowed a curve-hugging, cream sweater dress from Lia, worn with tights and knee-high boots from Holly. Pilar’s glamour had transformed my hair into the perfect mane of silky coils and curls.

  Despite all the dates on the downlow and the brief outing after Jada had exposed our relationship, my friends had all fought over who got to dress me for what they considered our first real date.

  Gabriel had promised me a fancy dinner as a reward for passing my Biology final, but we had three awesome reasons to celebrate. I’d passed, we were out together, and it was his 22nd birthday.

  And judging from the way he’d behaved the past couple days, he wasn’t aware that Rodrigo had spilled the beans and told me it was his special day.

  Good.

  He opened the passenger door for me, and then we were off for our seven thirty reservation. Meanwhile, his gift was burning a figurative hole on the bottom of my purse, because I’d never spent so much money on anyone before and it had been a chunk out of my savings, even more than my share of the deposit for our townhouse.

  More important than the cost, it was a gift I’d seen Gabriel gaze at with longing, the way I saw Rodrigo eyeball pizza or takeout whenever I dropped by with food.

  A little over an hour later, he was passing the keys to the valet and escorting me inside the cozy Japanese grill owned by another raven shifter family. The hostess wore a genuine smile when she greeted us, and though she spoke something to Gabriel that I couldn’t translate, I did recognize the humble “thank you” he murmured in return. At least I’d learned that much Japanese from years of watching Sailor Moon.

  Minako guided us to a candlelit table for two on the upper level beside a gorgeous marine aquarium I hadn’t noticed during our Valentine’s Day visit to oversee my charge’s special night out. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  I smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

  We perused the menus, placed orders with the waitress for the anticipated Kobe beef I’d looked forward to devouring all week, and sipped the fragrant green tea brought to us.

  “Hey,” I murmured conversationally, leaning forward to grin at him across the table. “Wanna play Find the Sentinel?”

  “Sure.” We both glanced out over the floor below us and searched the faces of the crowd.

  Gabriel nodded toward an awkward couple by the window down below with an obvious age difference between them. The guy’s brows were knit together in consternation, intensifying the network of frown lines on his craggy fac
e. His blonde date glanced around the floor, her eyes alert.

  Rich guy creeping on his wife with a mistress, or sentinels pretending to be on a date for our benefit?

  “Sugar daddy or sentinel?” I whispered.

  “Hard to tell. What do you see?”

  I gestured discreetly toward a solo diner at another table, the man grimacing down at the menu. “Nobody who loves sushi or teriyaki dinners makes that kind of face at a good restaurant. Either he realizes he’s made a big mistake, or he’s not here because he wants to be.”

  “Point. I’m getting a magic vibe from him. Looks like a mage. The other two… maybe wolf shifters.”

  We both scanned the floor again, searching the faces of both the waitstaff and the diners.

  “There are four sentinels here,” Gabriel concluded.

  “Four?”

  “Yeah. Just noticed Hiro Watanabe staring us down for the fifth time since we got here. He’s a sentinel at the Cook County office and has no reason to be waiting tables at his dad’s restaurant. I guess after what happened on the road, no one is taking any chances.”

  “Four seems like overkill.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but somebody tried to kill a bunch of us in a fire, tried to snatch you, and still hasn’t been busted. I guess they felt we needed extra security in case Scary takes it to the next level, you know? Don’t want what happened at the Roadhouse to happen here too.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  The arrival of our dinner cut the discussion short, and every tender bite was heaven melting in my mouth. Like euphoria for the tastebuds. No cut of beef had ever been so delicious as the rich slices of Japanese steak the Watanabe family imported from Japan.

  At some point, I must have stolen one too many envious looks at Gabriel’s plum sake, because he nudged the glass toward me and laughed. “So, uh… I have a steady job lined up over the next couple weeks.”

  I sipped the delicious drink without shame. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, at the mall. I’ll be photographing for the Santa, and I could use an assistant with a cute pair of natural pointed ears. Know of anyone who might be interested?”

  I pursed my lips and feigned ignorance, pretending I didn’t realize he was hinting to me. “I may know someone. Will there be tights involved?”

  “Peppermint-striped tights and gold bells on little green shoes.” He grinned at me and plucked a slice of seared ahi tuna from his plate.

  It sounded ridiculous—fun, maybe, but ridiculous—and no doubt an opportunity to load up on tons of faerie dust as enthusiastic kids lined up for time with Santa.

  “So, how about it? Wanna be Santa’s little helper?”

  “Do I get to sit on your lap afterward?”

  Gabriel missed his mouth. It never failed to satisfy me when I took him by surprise.

  “I, uh… I’m not playing Santa.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll find time.”

  “Does this mean you’ll be my assistant?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Flanked by Minako and an older Japanese woman, our waitress stepped over and set down a dessert, a large square of cake filled with cream and fresh strawberries. A few candies shaped like cherry blossoms and leaves decorated the top and looked especially delicious.

  “Happy birthday, Gabriel.”

  “Whoa, this is awesome. Thank you. Y’all didn’t have to do this.”

  The older woman replied in Japanese and gestured toward the cake until Gabriel leaned forward to blow out the candle. Her smile widened, and the longer they spoke, the more I tried to remember the damned glamour for translating foreign languages to a common tongue. Fae had the magical ability to understand and speak all languages, but it was a glamour requiring a continuous use of magical power.

  The conversation ended with Gabriel slouching back against his seat, stunned features making me worry, while the trio moved away.

  “What happened?”

  “Minako’s mother said the bill was already paid by my dad. It’s all taken care of. Everything.”

  He fell silent afterward and looked so choked up I pushed my seat back and slid it to his side of the table. I took one of his hands and squeezed. “You okay?”

  “They still care about me. I figured… I wasn’t expecting anything from them. Especially after… especially after Thanksgiving.”

  All semester long, he fretted about his family, how they treated him, and the arguments related to Jada.

  “Of course they still care about you, silly. They’re your family.”

  His expression softened, and then he picked up a fork and gestured for me to do the same. “Share my cake with me?”

  We both dug into the creamy strawberry shortcake and took bites at the same time. Specks of vanilla bean added a rich taste to the cream, the strawberries were perfectly ripe, and I’d never had such a moist cake. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to take the last bite. Gabriel speared it but offered the tasty morsel to me.

  Who was I to turn it down?

  Afterward, we strolled down the street, eventually ending up by the same playground where we’d battled a nos and a wendigo last year on Valentine’s night. This late, no one was there, so we made our way to a bench and sat down. Somewhere out there, I knew my usual sentinel shadows were lurking, somewhere out of sight but close enough to help should we need it.

  When I leaned close to kiss him, Gabriel met me halfway.

  “Happy birthday, Gabriel. I’m glad we got to do this.”

  “Tonight was supposed to be about you.”

  “We can celebrate both. But first…” I reached into the Neverspace and pulled out his gift. I set it in his lap and grinned, but he only stared.

  “What’s this?”

  “Well, it’s wrapped in pretty paper and shaped like a box, so I’m pretty sure it’s a present.”

  “Ha, ha. I mean, what’s this for?”

  “Your birthday, of course.”

  His fingers hovered over the curly ends of the blue and silver ribbons. Then, like a child on Christmas day, he tore into the wrapping without further indecision. I perched on the edge of the bench and chewed my bottom lip.

  “Do you like it? I mean… it’s the right kind, right?”

  “Sky, how the hell did you afford this?”

  “I won that DDR tournament last month with Julien, remember?”

  “You won a grand.”

  “Yup.”

  “Sky, this lens costs at least a grand. You spent your winnings on me?”

  I nodded, biting my lower lip, suddenly incredibly shy and self-conscious about the decision to blow a chunk of cash on a man despite the generous Black Friday discounts. My debit card had been weeping after taxes and a warranty for his new toy were added to the receipt.

  He blinked down at his gift then at me. I never would have guessed that gifts made my boyfriend emotional. “I don’t know what I did to be so lucky.”

  The way he gazed at me was how I always felt whenever he entered a room, but I’d finally seen my emotions reflected in one raw, honest expression. I took his face between both of my hands and leaned in, kissing him. “Everything.”

  The Saint Nick Gabriel and I worked alongside came in as a last-minute replacement for the usual mall Santa, the dude sporting genuine white whiskers and charming everyone he met with his ridiculously friendly disposition.

  He also emanated a subtle field of mana that a less observant fae might have overlooked, so it didn’t take long to piece together that he was an old mage enjoying his retirement. Mages lived a long time—much like half-fae—so for him to have real silver hair, he had to be ancient, like grandfather of my grandfather old at the very least.

  I didn’t spy any sentinels out in the mall lurking around when we worked with him, which also meant Gramps had to be packing some serious magical heat in those fur-lined gloves.

  Just for the hell of it, we all performed real marvels for the kids on occasion, Gabriel using h
is illusions to augment my glamours. Our harmless pranks and fun made the mall so damned popular they gave us a generous bonus on top of our already considerable contract wages.

  Hot damn. At this rate, I’d be able to afford a car on my own without Mom and Dad helping me.

  Then Gabriel received the worst kind of news on Christmas Eve. All of us were snuggled up in the living room while Liadan made delicious hot cocoa with way too much Baileys, just the way we all liked it, watching marathons of Christmas-themed horror movies.

  His entire mood changed, and his heart song, which had been so beautiful and at peace moments earlier, turned cacophonous and filled with sharp, thundering notes.

  I didn’t wait for him to set the phone down. “What’s wrong?”

  “Stark just told me our friend”—he closed his eyes and dragged in a long breath—“ex-friend, Edmund, is dead. Happened a couple days ago. Stark was catching up to the news in their home area and came across the article.”

  I blinked. “What happened?”

  “He broke into a home out in Poughkeepsie and was shot. According to the report, the father heard a noise and the baby crying and walked in on him in the nursery. There was a serial killer in that area a couple decades back, and that keeps the residents on edge.”

  “Oh my God.” Picturing it made me nauseous. “What was he doing there?”

  “No idea. Apparently, his parents reported him missing a couple months ago. He disappeared after the Conclave handed down their judgment and Bound him with the others.”

  Victor shifted from where he was sprawled on the other sofa with Holly. “So, he disappears and turns up in some kid’s room? Weird as fuck, man. You think he was still working for the Hidden Court?”

  “Maybe.”

  The news put a damper on our cheerful moods.

  It was hard to be jolly after discovering a fellow student had gotten himself blown away.

  And it took a lot more booze to put the spirit of Christmas back into us.

  A few days after the awful news about Edmund, I surprised Gabriel at his apartment with a basket of groceries. Armed with my dad’s manicotti recipe and a bottle of Grandpa’s limoncello, I invaded his kitchen to whip together a special dinner to raise his spirits again instead of ordering pizza as usual.