Witches Gone Wicked: A Cozy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 3)

by Sarina Dorie

  I pretty much hated every macabre decoration except for the guillotine next to the desk. That would come in handy for chopping papers. I wished I had one in my classroom.

  Considering all the time Vega had put into decorating, one would have thought she’d take a little more care in cleaning up after herself. She’d left her dirty clothes next to the desk. It wasn’t just one dress either. It was a huge pile of dresses that smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and too much perfume. She’d even thrown in a heap of undergarments.

  It was the plate of food on the desk that gave me pause. Cookies were stacked next to a sandwich. The note said: For you. To make up for our last encounter.

  The cookies were gingersnaps and didn’t look like they were made from the hearts of children. It was tempting, but I had a suspicion that the same roommate who hung a noose above my bed was unlikely to set out cookies and a sandwich for me. At least not without poisoning it. But, I was hungry, and the food in the cafeteria for teachers sucked.

  I carried the plate downstairs to Josie’s classroom. “Can you tell if this has been poisoned?”

  She laughed like I was joking. “Who is it from?”

  “Vega Bloodmire.”

  “Ah. Say no more.”

  She waved her wand over it. A hazy lavender aura swirled around the food, making the air smell like the forest. She closed her eyes and muttered under her breath in Japanese. The light faded. “Nope. No poison. And it’s all organic and vegan too.” She stole a cookie and bit in. “Yum!”

  I sat at one of the student desks and set down the plate. “So, what’s the deal with Vega? Is she a vampire?”

  “She wishes. Why?”

  “The coffin. Her pale complexion. She dresses like she’s from another era.”

  “No, I just think she’s old. Most Witchkin live a long time, not that it makes us immortal like yokai—I mean, Fae—but many of us live longer than average if we don’t get ourselves killed by Fae. Or zapped by cold iron and electronics. I heard Jeb is like three hundred.”

  “What about the coffin?” I bit into half the sandwich. It was a cucumber, avocado, and alfalfa sprout sandwich with a creamy sauce that gave it zip. It was pretty good.

  Josie made a face. “Vega is into some kinky stuff. She told me she once did it in a coffin. Gross, huh?”

  I shrugged. To each their own. Who was I to judge someone’s sex life after almost killing my former boyfriends?

  Josie and I chatted away as she prepped her classroom. I offered her another cookie and the other half of the sandwich.

  “Do you know what a Celestor is?” I asked. “I want to go into town and access my lesson plans and do some internet research later, but Jeb said I could only leave if I go with Thatch or a Celestor.” Plus, I was ready to do some research on forbidden subjects. Mwa-ha-ha!

  “Ugh! Thatch? Not that bag of dicks.” She made a face. “There’s no way I’m going with you if you invite him along. Pro Ro is a Celestor, so he could come with us if we can find him, but he was running errands earlier. We could ask Vega, but I’d rather punch myself in the face than hang out with her. She might be as powerful of a Celestor as Thatch, but she’s even more of a bitch than he is.”

  “But what does that mean? A Celestor? I don’t know all the witch lingo yet.” Womby’s: A History of the School had implied my mother was a Celestor.

  “It’s a category of Witchkin, someone whose affinity allows him or her to excel in clairvoyance, telepathy, apportation, or projection. Usually they use the stars or the sky as a power source. Of course, Thatch would be one. That’s why he acts so snooty and superior.”

  “You’re not a Celestor then?”

  “No, I’m Amni Plandai. I derive my power from nature, animals mostly, but plants too.”

  “Oh,” I said in disappointment. If only Josie could be my chaperone. She’d kicked Raven Court ass the other day.

  “Jeb will be okay if Khaba walks down with us. He’s got some seriously powerful mojo of protection. We don’t have to worry about the Raven Court with him around.” She leaned in confidentially and lowered her voice. “He’s Fae.”

  “Khaba?”

  “Dean of discipline. He handles security, wards, and school rules stuff.”

  The book had mentioned Alouette Loraline had hired a Fae to keep the students safe from … other Fae. It did sound suspicious now that I thought about it.

  “By the way, don’t let him see your phone. He’ll turn a blind eye to us going to the internet café if we say we’re just getting lunch upstairs, but he’ll confiscate your phone if he sees you with it on school grounds.” She sighed, and a dreamy look came to her eyes. “I love the big guy, but he can be such a stickler about following rules. All Fae are.” She stared off into the distance, smiling.

  “No phones it is.”

  My fairy godmother had told me not to trust Fae. I wondered how Khaba was different than those of the Raven Court. I would have to wait to see if he sucked laughter out of people’s faces and lived to drain magic from Witchkin.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I Dream of Djinn

  We agreed to meet at four thirty, outside the front of the school. That gave us plenty of time to walk down to the Lachlan Falls, secretly recharge my phone while I printed my lessons from Goggle Docs, and do research before it got dark. Until that time, I worked on my magical history studies and lesson plans for my first-day activities. I had so much to do.

  At four fifteen I made my way out of my room, down the stairs and along the hall to the front lobby. Outside standing in the sunshine, Josie stood next to a man below the front steps of the school. He glanced over his shoulder. I froze on the steps.

  An old witch had once told me I would meet a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who would be the love of my life—or something along those stereotypically sappy lines. I didn’t believe her soothsaying held any truth to it.

  Still, for just a moment, I wanted to imagine this tall, handsome man was my soulmate.

  I was in the presence of some godlike being. Magic radiated off him in waves. He was tall, and as I joined Josie, I realized his leopard-print shirt was unbuttoned down to his navel, revealing the amount of time he spent in the gym on his mad gains. He was bald, but young, no older than thirty-five. His face reminded me of the ancient Egyptian pharaoh, Akhenaten with full lips and deep-set eyes. His complexion was the color of sandalwood. He even smelled of amber and frankincense. His fashion sense may have been modern, but he gave off an ancient and powerful air.

  He set a hand on his hip and looked me up and down. “So, girl, you’re the one I keep hearing about. Daughter of a succubus?”

  My eyes went wide. “My mother—Loraline—she was a succubus?”

  “It’s just a guess. I never asked. That would be rude.” He waved his hand in the air with the flamboyance of a professional drag queen. “All I can say is she was a real man-eater.” His accent was slight, somewhere in between Middle Eastern and something else. Something older.

  I wanted to ask him what he was, but my fairy godmother had told me I wasn’t supposed to ask personal questions like that, so I didn’t. Breathlessly, I stuck out my hand. “Clarissa Lawrence. Art teacher.”

  “Dean Khaba. You may call me Khaba. Charmed, I’m sure.” He raised an eyebrow, his expression amused. “Everyone keeps saying you look just like Loraline, but I don’t see the resemblance. You look far less evil.” He sounded disappointed.

  “Did you know her well?”

  “I met her about thirty years back while I was rocking the Kasbah scene. She used her wish to free me from being a slave to the lamp in exchange for—” He waved his hand at the architectural monstrosity behind me. “—being indentured to the school. Your mother was a sneaky one, equal to any Fae in wit and treachery. I had great respect for her … until the end.”

  Magic rolled off him like a strong perfume. I blinked, trying to concentrate. He’d been a slave to a lamp.

 
; “So, you’re djinn?”

  Josie punched me in the shoulder. “Clarissa! That is so rude.” Josie was small, but she packed a punch. “Don’t ask people what kind of Fae they are.”

  They were going to think my mom hadn’t taught me any Witchkin manners, which would have basically been true.

  I rubbed my shoulder. It was easier to see through the nimbus of magic around Khaba now that I could only focus on the charley horse in my arm. “Sorry. I forgot. Don’t answer.”

  Khaba cast a disdainful glare at me. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  Josie slipped an arm around his waist and hugged him. “I keep asking Khaba when he’s going to grant my three wishes, but he keeps putting me off.”

  He grimaced. He patted her on the head as if she were an endearing but annoying dog.

  “Shall we?” He extricated himself from her and strutted down the path.

  We followed a dirt trail around the back of the school where there was a fountain with cupids and bushes trimmed into the shapes of animals. Our path intersected a thick lawn and took us into the forest that enclosed the school grounds. The sun was uncomfortably warm, and I had to jog to keep up with Khaba’s long legs. Even then, Josie and I both lagged behind, affording us a great view of the way he wiggled his butt as he walked.

  Josie jogged beside me. “Isn’t he gorgeous?” She squealed.

  “Well, yes,” I admitted.

  She giggled. Did she really have no gaydar?

  “I know you’re talking about me. It better all be flattering,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Hey, can you walk slower?” I shouted after him.

  “If I did, you wouldn’t burn as many calories. You’ll thank me later.”

  “Burning calories isn’t high on my list of wishes,” Josie called after him.

  I laughed at their banter. Josie trusted him, and I wanted to have faith in her judgement, but I couldn’t help thinking of what the textbook had implied about a Fae having a dubious agenda working at a school. Did Khaba resent being indentured to Womby’s, or might he have ulterior motives? Anyone with as much magic rolling off him as he had wasn’t one to disregard lightly.

  The shade of the trees offered us shelter from the sun. I didn’t mind jogging—I had actually intended to go earlier—I only wished I hadn’t worn a dress and my striped leggings. Soon Khaba disappeared out of sight. Trees rustled behind us. The black silhouettes of birds fluttered through the branches. I couldn’t tell what kind of birds they were.

  It was fine, I told myself. I had a qualified chaperone. The Raven Queen’s servants weren’t going to attack me. Only, Khaba wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  The bushes near me shook. The forest was part of the school grounds, so we were safe. Even so, I picked up the pace. Khaba waited for us at the end of the forest trail. He watched the black birds circling in the sky over the meadow.

  Josie and I emerged from the trees to join him.

  Khaba no longer smiled. “Stay close to me while we’re off school grounds.” He held himself tall and confident as he strode ahead of us.

  I glanced up, afraid those birds were representatives from the Raven Court. They might swoop down at any moment.

  Lachlan Falls was quaint, everything made from brick and stone, reminding me of an Irish village. The people looked Irish, but at the same time, not quite human. A man with a long pointed nose smoked a pipe on his perch at the top of his horse-drawn wagon, eyeing us with curiosity. Fiddling came from a pub called The Devil’s Pint. Clotheslines hung between windows of cobblestone houses. Children in old-fashioned clothes and flat caps played jacks in the alley. It looked more like the set of Outlander than the modern era.

  I wiped the sweat from my brow. Now that we’d left the comfort of the shady woods, the sun beat down on us. Josie removed her hat and fanned herself.

  “Where is Lachlan Falls, exactly?” I asked. “And the school?”

  It wasn’t the first time in my life I suspected I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Or more accurately, the continental United States.

  The moment I’d signed my contract, I’d been whisked to the school by magic to settle details of my acceptance as the school’s art teacher. I’d only been at the school for a few hours that day, and I hadn’t known where it was.

  After being returned to my mom’s house in Eugene, Oregon, I’d had a chance to pack my bags and prepare for the school year. I received instructions in the mail for reaching the school the nonmagical way. It was far less pleasant.

  I booked a train ticket for Seattle. From there, I’d taken a Greyhound charter bus to the Olympic Peninsula near the Hoh Rain Forest. If I hadn’t been lugging two suitcases around with me, I might have explored Forks, Washington, to see if I spotted any landmarks from the Twilight movies.

  Jeb had met me at the last stop and escorted me along the path into the woods that led to the school. The principal was unexpectedly spry for being an old man, and the walk had winded me more than him.

  I was pretty sure there wasn’t really a magical school in the Olympic National Park, so somewhere along the lines we must have passed into another world.

  Khaba scanned the street and waved us forward. “We’re in the Realm of the Unseen, or Unseen Realm, as some call it. On the border of Faerie.”

  “In Japanese we call it Yomi-no-kuni,” Josie said. “Although, the direct translation is ‘land of the dead’ and this isn’t actually an underworld with spirits, but there are creatures we call yokai and kami. It’s a place Witchkin and Fae can live together peaceably.”

  “More or less,” Khaba said.

  Josie nodded. “The farther into Faerie, it gets dicier.”

  Our feet crunched over the dirt road. A little girl with corn-silk hair smiled at me from an open doorway. She held a doll that looked like a goblin. I waved to her, and she waved back until a woman yanked her back inside and slammed the door.

  “This is why Witchkin have to put up with tithes and all the other Fae crap,” Josie said under her breath. “We have to live in the Unseen if we’re going to get away from Morties and all their poisons.”

  It wasn’t a huge village. Two women sat knitting in the shade of a cottage’s porch, chatting amiably. Gaelic or something close to it accented their words. One looked me up and down and crinkled up her nose as she said something to the other. They glared in an unfriendly way.

  I would have liked to go into all the witchy-looking shops like: Brooms, Magic Carpets and More; Potions Emporium; and Diviner’s Delights, but Josie suggested we eat dinner first. At the end of the street we turned down the next road and passed one more row of stone buildings. The building on the corner had a satellite dish. The sign above the front door said: “Happy Hal’s Tavern and Internet Café.”

  Josie glanced over one shoulder and then the other, the gesture furtive. There were a few children in the street, but none appeared particularly interested in us.

  Khaba stopped at the door. “I expect you ladies to be done with your fish and chips in an hour. I have some errands to run and then you’re coming with me to get groceries from… .” His gaze flitted to a man with elf ears poking out of his strawberry-blond hair. The man leaned against the side of one of the buildings. He wore a kilt, but that was all.

  “Yummy.” Khaba cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Let’s make it an hour and a half. I need to take care of some kilty pleasures first. It’s about time someone made my dreams come true.” He winked at me as he said it. “Ta ta for now, ladies.”

  Josie giggled, “You’re so punny.” She snorted as she laughed, which made me laugh harder.

  A bell rang above the door as we entered a candlelit room.

  I nudged Josie. “Don’t you think it’s kind of odd the way he just left us? He’s supposed to be chaperoning to make sure the Raven Court doesn’t follow us.”

  Josie put a finger to her lips and lowered her voice. “Khaba can’t come in, but the Raven Court can’t either wit
h all the electronics that will diminish a Fae’s powers. We’re perfectly safe.”

  Maybe she was right. I was still on edge from the last time we’d encountered the Raven Queen’s emissaries.

  The man behind the counter sat on a stool. He nodded to us. “What’ll it be, lasses?”

  The red of his hair reminded me of the neon orange on a toy troll dolls’ head. His face was wide, and his smile unnervingly mischievous. A man at the bar nursing a pint of ale glanced over his shoulder at us. He looked ordinary except that the hair sticking out from under his cap was made from snowy white feathers.

  Josie waved to the red-haired man behind the bar. “I’ll have an order of fish and chips and afterward forty-five minutes of internet and electricity recharging.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “And you, lass?”

  “The same.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “You got gold?”

  I looked to Josie uncertainly. “I have cash.”

  “American denominations,” Josie said. “I have coin. Copper and nickel.” She shook the loose mauve dress she wore. Metal jangled from her pockets.

  “Thirty dollars. Each,” he said.

  “That’s highway robbery!” Josie said. “What happened to your teacher discount?”

  “Oi! Bring me gold and I’ll charge you less.” He took her money and shoved it into a purse that hung from his belt.

  I hadn’t planned on it being thirty dollars for dinner. I shuffled through my wallet and held up my credit card. “Do you accept credit or debit?”

  His eyebrow arched impossibly high. “Plastic! Bleh! Ye aren’t from around these parts, are ye?”

  I counted out all my cash, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. “I only have twenty dollars. I didn’t know.” I would have dug more cash out of my sock drawer hiding place, but I hadn’t wanted to carry all my money with me.