The Nowhere Witch (Tales of Xest Book 2)

by Donna Augustine

  He walked out the back door, as if it were nothing.

  I walked into the office. The monkeys took one look at my face and lifted their instruments. They broke into “She’s a Dandy,” and I didn’t even want to crush their little drum set.

  The room smiled at me—even Bibbi looked happy that things were working out. We might be able to be friends now that the bitterness was washed away a bit.

  “I guess you’re back to work,” Zab said, getting out of his chair.

  “Temporarily.” I was actively fighting the urge to skip around the office, and it hurt my cheeks to keep the smile off my face. This was not a permanent situation. This was a necessity only. There could be no celebrating.

  “This definitely deserves a cocoa,” Zab said. “Musso? Bibbi?”

  “Place is empty. Might as well,” Musso said.

  “Definitely,” Bibbi said.

  Well, it was a cocoa, and I couldn’t very well not go when it was for me. Plus, I’d started a list of names for immigration references, and what better time to hit up Gilli, the owner? And maybe a couple of her employees, too?

  Zab held the door open for me. “Feels a little like old times, doesn’t it?”

  I was afraid to agree with him as I walked out the door.

  I took a step outside, and the sun was shining down on me, my shadow as crisp as ever. Just like that, I had my shadow back. The black cloud had disappeared.

  “It’s gone,” I said, looking overhead.

  Zab was squinting in my direction.

  “Why are you looking at me like there’s something off? This is good.”

  Zab shook his head. “No, not the cloud. I just…” He was looking at me this way and that. “I don’t know exactly. Maybe it’s just a residue from the deal. Musso?”

  Musso took a good look at me. “There’s something there, but it’s probably just a residue, like Zab said. Happens sometimes with a longstanding spell. Wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, turning and heading toward the Sweet Shop.

  That bastard. He’d done something else. Knew I shouldn’t trust him.

  21

  I walked into the office where Zab, Musso, and Bibbi were already seated. Seemed all three of them were compulsively early, even as I’d tried to beat them all here. The idea of being first to work had settled my nerves about the new position.

  Zab nodded. Musso gave me a halfhearted grunt.

  Bibbi eyed up my outfit. “Very cute. I saw that on the mannequin and loved it.”

  I smoothed down the dark blue velvet of my fitted dress. It was something I never would’ve worn in Salem. It had a little too much look at me for what I typically would wear. But being a broker, they’d all be looking at me anyway, as if they weren’t already. If they were all going to look at me, maybe it was time to own it? After all, I wasn’t the girl who hid anymore.

  Didn’t hide, didn’t hide, didn’t hide. It was going to stick one of these times.

  I walked to Belinda’s…to my desk and ran a hand over the surface. There was already a pile of sorted slips sitting on it.

  “You can sit at it too if you want,” Musso said.

  “Oh, there’s a note for you too. Came this morning,” Bibbi said, pointing to the folded sheet of memo paper.

  Don’t forget our cocoa date tonight.

  Gregor

  I had forgotten we were going for cocoa. But had I forgotten it was a date? Was that what I’d agreed to? I’d thought we were just friends. I slipped the note in the drawer.

  “So what should I do?” I asked.

  Zab walked over with a book and flipped it open, pointing to different lines. “Every transaction has to be logged into this book and then signed off here by the broker who negotiated the work.” He pointed to a column and then another. “And then the agent who performed the work goes here.”

  “How do I know who to call for a job?”

  “Musso and I will help you get going. You’ll get to know your regulars after a while, and it gets easier. You start learning who’s good in what situation and such.” He shut the book and left it on my desk.

  “And who’s going to screw it all up,” Musso added from his side of the room.

  Hawk walked in from the back. His gaze ran the length of me. Hawk always seemed to know where I was in a room, but this time his eyes seemed to get stuck on me. And then mine got stuck on him because he wouldn’t unstick his. This was why I didn’t wear look at me clothes. Now he was looking at me. Worse, I liked it.

  I walked into the back room and poured a cup of tea. It took me two minutes to own up to the fact that I’d run and hidden. Yes, I’d wanted tea, but the urge had come on suddenly, along with the running urge.

  I don’t run anymore. Except apparently I did.

  Hawk followed me in a couple of minutes later.

  I refused to leave this room until after he did. I was not going to run and hide again, even if I had to stand in the back room all day.

  He walked over by the tea station I’d just departed, making himself something. He wasn’t outright looking at me, and I wasn’t staring at him point-blank, and yet it felt like we were still locked in a gaze. Something had to be done. It felt like boundaries were about to be crossed.

  “Did you have something to do with the black cloud? It was suspiciously gone right after you hired me.”

  Now I wasn’t hiding. I was fighting instead. Definite improvement. This was a man to have boundaries with, and I needed to keep us squarely on separate sides.

  “No, I didn’t. Don’t you have a new job to do? I do believe we have a contract of employment, and I have to say, you don’t appear to be working that hard.” He turned, looking at me over his cup of coffee as he leaned on the table behind him. He leaned because he didn’t run. That was what non-runners looked like.

  “Just look me in the eyes and tell me you had nothing to do with the black cloud.” I leaned against the couch, like a non-runner.

  “I believe I already answered that.”

  Oscar walked in the back door. It was like the guy had an aversion to the front entrance.

  “Heard there was a new broker in town,” he said as he walked over and leaned on the other couch, giving me a once-, twice-, thrice-over. “You really upped your game for the new job, huh? Very nice indeed. So, what are you doing later on tonight? Want to go for a drink to celebrate your new position and maybe discover a couple other new positions while we’re at it?” Oscar was smiling. How had I not realized what a playboy he was the first time I’d met him? Or the second time? It could’ve been tattooed on his forehead and not been any clearer than his come-hither smile and the twinkle in his eye that promised a good, long night, or a short, rough ride, depending on your preference. He was definitely looking to please as long as you didn’t plan on overstaying your welcome.

  And why was it that Oscar was eyeballing me and there was no desire to run and hide or beat him with my fists? All I wanted to do with him was laugh. Now why was that?

  “She’s not free,” Hawk said, clearly telling Oscar to back off.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right. I heard you had plans with Gregor tonight. So the rumors are true? Didn’t think he’d be your type for some reason.”

  I didn’t know what rumors were circulating, but it was easy enough to guess. If Hawk wasn’t standing there looking at me like he owned me, I might’ve elaborated on our situation or lack thereof. I could’ve told Oscar that Gregor was just a friend. But what fun would that be when Hawk was staring at me the way he was?

  “Gregor is a nice guy. Why wouldn’t he be my type?”

  I focused all my attention on Oscar, refusing to look at Hawk, afraid I’d crumble and tell him it wasn’t true. If Hawk didn’t approve of Gregor, all the more reason to go out with him.

  Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know. He seems too nice, like in a ‘strip the fudge off a sundae’ kind of way. I always pictured you as a ‘rocky road, double caramel, loaded with whip, a handful of nuts and cherries’ kind o
f gal. You know, no holds barred, no holding back, leave it all in the ring, no regrets, going at it until you’re a puddle of sweat and your body collapses.”

  I should tell Oscar to shut up and mind his own business, but it was nearly impossible not to play along with him a little, especially as he was clearly having so much fun with it.

  I leaned. “Really now? What would give you that idea?” I asked, jumping up to sit on the bookcase behind me, crossing my legs slowly, letting the hem ride up over the tall boots to show off a nice flash of thigh, like I was some seductress. I didn’t even know where this was coming from. I’d never been flirty in my life.

  Oscar smiled. “You play it close to the vest but you’ve got a mighty hot fire burning inside. I can feel the heat from across the room.”

  “Do you plan on dating Oscar now too? Why limit yourself to two? Why don’t you date Zab as well, or Zark?” Hawk asked, nothing playful about his tone.

  “Maybe I will,” I replied.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said. He smiled, as if he was daring me to try.

  What the hell did that mean?

  He grabbed his jacket and walked out.

  Suddenly the game lost all of its amusement.

  “He used to be a lot more fun. I don’t know what happened to him,” Oscar said, the twinkle in his eye flattened. He straightened up. “You do look good, though,” he said, without a trace of flirtation left.

  “Thanks,” I replied, speaking to him like he was my brother. I wasn’t sure what game Oscar and I were playing, but it seemed to have the same rules and end time. “Have to get to work.”

  He gave me a wink before he turned to make himself a coffee.

  22

  I walked along the perimeter of the wall I’d made, the one that might not last much longer, still in awe of what I’d done. How had I made such a thing when I couldn’t do the simplest of spells?

  I trailed my hand along the surface, feeling the mark of my magic all along it, finally understanding what they meant about tracking. The more familiar you became with magic, the more you picked up on its individual flavors. It could almost be compared to cooking or baking, and everyone had their own recipe. Some people liked a little more salt, some wanted to spice things up, but we all made the dish differently.

  The other thing I picked up when I was here was hate. I couldn’t seem to avoid it. There was something more going on here, and I couldn’t deny it anymore.

  “Why do you hate me? And I know it’s not because of this,” I said, running my hand along the wall. “You were trying to get rid of me as soon as I got here, but why? I know you can communicate. Just tell me why.”

  The crystal of the wall had a chill, but it wasn’t ice. I didn’t think it was crystal, either. I wasn’t sure what it truly was, and I’d made it. I walked farther along and shuddered. There was more heaviness leaking out, along with pure anger.

  Another ten minutes of walking brought me to the newest crack, but someone had already beaten me to it. Hawk was running a hand over it. Should’ve guessed he already knew about it.

  “Another new one,” he said. His attention was on the fissure that ran ten feet vertically.

  I stepped closer, hating the feel of the thing beyond the wall but needing a closer look.

  He stepped back, giving me room and looking as if he wanted to hear what I had to say. It was the strangest feeling, how he always seemed to have more confidence in me than I had in myself.

  And then he booted me. Don’t forget that part. Don’t ever forget.

  I shrugged it off, trying to focus.

  “If I could make this thing, I should be able to repair it. So why can’t I?” I ran a hand up and down over the weak spot, knowing that the thing I’d contained was growing more dangerous and potent every day. “If this breaks completely, what will happen?”

  Sometimes silence is comforting. This wasn’t, not with the gravity of the moment. It was like standing at the edge of the abyss of nothingness, knowing that if you shouted out, nothing would shout back and there would be no echo. It would just disappear, and perhaps you would too.

  I turned around, not saying a word. I didn’t have to. My stare said it for me.

  He stared back, and I didn’t like the answer I saw there.

  “I know it won’t be good, but how bad?”

  “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” He stepped closer, laying his hand near the fissure again. “I can only say what my gut is telling me, and it’s almost never wrong.”

  Had his gut told him to get rid of me? If it had, I didn’t like his gut. His gut was bullshit.

  “If you don’t mind, I need a little time alone here to feel out the situation,” I said to him, the same way some people tell you to go screw.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, intent on my opinion.

  The man was impervious to insult sometimes. Or was he too thick to realize I’d told him to leave?

  “I don’t know yet. That’s why I was looking for some time alone.”

  “Most of the time, it’s better to bounce ideas off other people.”

  “I don’t want to bounce anything off you. I want you to leave.”

  He leaned a hand on the wall as he stared at me. “I understood that the first time you said it. Clearly I’m not leaving, so what were you thinking?”

  “Why do you have to be so damned difficult? Why can’t you go? I don’t want to work with you all the time. It’s bad enough I’m back living with you.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the wall, as if he were just standing in the forest having a relaxing moment while I lost my shit on him. It made me want to rage even more. “Everything has to be your way, and you don’t care how anyone else feels or what they want. You, you, and you. That’s all that matters.”

  He raised an eyebrow, silently asking if I were through.

  I shrugged like I was having a spasm, finally spitting out, “What?”

  He shook his head. “Did that make you feel better?”

  “No.”

  “Then what do you need? Because there’s work to be done, and we can’t afford you to be emotional and causing problems. You’re going to have to figure out a way to get along with me until we rectify this issue.”

  That was it. My emotions were an issue, because I had some. That must be a really big drag to him, with his shriveled-up black heart.

  “What I need is for you to be human,” I said, turning and walking away from him.

  “You’re going to be waiting a long time for that one,” he said, remaining where he was.

  I didn’t know if he was being figurative or literal. Neither would surprise me.

  23

  I’ll quit drinking the day after my fiftieth if I can just have one last good party.

  I flipped through the directory of names in the book Zab had given me, skimming for parties. There were twenty different names. Seemed parties paid well, or they were quick, easy work.

  “Who’s the best person to call for a good birthday party? There are a lot of names. Is there a better or worse witch or warlock?” I asked, holding up the slip that had been in the pile on my desk. I looked at Zab, consciously ignoring the fact that Hawk had just walked into the office. Also trying to ignore the way Bibbi was watching Hawk enter the office, Oscar in tow.

  “What kind of party? Any hint of what they consider a good party? Are they looking for raunchy or clean?” Zab asked, slumping back in his chair and kicking his feet up on his desk. Clearly he was unaware of all the tension that had just been lit inside this room.

  “It’s a fiftieth. No other mention. Just that they’ll quit drinking after it.”

  Hawk was on the other side of the office still, talking to Oscar. He was leaning on the bookshelf, his arms crossed in front of him, showing off his good side, of which he had two.

  When someone looked the way he did, it was hard not to glance over from time to time. It didn’t mean anything. It was akin to looking at a pretty painti
ng. Just because I admired the way something looked, didn’t mean I wanted to marry the thing or have its babies. It only meant it looked good.

  Hawk looked my way, and the heat in his eyes could have seized my engine. I turned toward Musso for a little cooldown. I couldn’t overheat like this in public. People would get the wrong idea.

  “Musso, what do you think?” I asked, turning so I could cut Hawk out of my peripheral vision.

  “If they’re a drinker, might mean they want a bit more than a good game of dominos. I’d newsflash Sadie P.,” Musso said.

  “I’ll do it,” Zab said, grabbing the newsflash papers before I could get them.

  “It might not be a dragon every time,” I said, keeping my back to Hawk and focusing on the job at hand.

  “And it might be,” Musso said.

  “Hey, what happens if this person has a good party and then doesn’t quit drinking?” I jotted Sadie P. down on the slip and added it to my job pile.

  “Not good,” Musso said.

  Helen’s gears spun long, slow, and loud, as if to second that remark.

  I saw Oscar leaving out of the corner of my eye as Hawk headed over. He stopped by my desk, picked up the slip, and looked at it.

  “You can’t put that kind of promise out into the universe and not uphold it. There will be payment one way or another, and it won’t be good. Disease, possibly death.” He dropped the slip back onto my desk.

  I nodded, trying not to engage too much. I picked up one of my cheater books, as Zab had called them, and flipped through it for the average rates for parties. I was trying hard not to look at Hawk, who had decided to sit on my desk and flip though my slips.

  He reached over, grabbed one of my books, and flipped through that next. I reread the same passage for the third time, trying to ignore his existence. It wasn’t working well. Some people can scream right beside you and barely register. Some can whisper and you hear every word. Hawk was in the latter group.