Deadly Sweet

by Lola Dodge

  My schedule was done for the day, but why rush home? Seeing Wynn so antsy about waiting for me made me want to keep him waiting. It was the only way to pay him back for being so annoying.

  Besides. It was my first day as a student and I had the sudden powerful urge to investigate the space I’d be baking in for the next couple years.

  “I’m going to check out the kitchens.” I grabbed my notebook and headed for the doorway. “You don’t have to follo—”

  He already stood between the doorway and me, blocking my path to the hall with his wide shoulders and permanent scowl. “You shouldn’t be walking around.”

  “Why not?” I had no work this afternoon other than practicing my baking in the little kitchen, and Agatha hadn’t said anything about a curfew. Especially not at two in the afternoon. If there was some other reason I wasn’t free to wander, I needed to know.

  Wynn didn’t answer. I started to push past him. He pivoted sideways and let me pass, then took up his normal spot, pacing a few feet behind me. My footsteps echoed down the long hallway. His were silent, but I could still feel his energy. It wasn’t a witch’s presence, but he had some kind of spark that made the back of my neck tingle. More than Bradley’s spark, but nowhere close to Seth or Blair or any of the witches I passed in the hall.

  I beat back the awareness. Luckily, the hallways gave me plenty to distract from Wynn. I slowed to check out a few neon flyers pinned to a bulletin board. One recruited for a séance during the next full moon. Tarot club was looking for members. And the automotive club was throwing a car wash. Such a weird mix of the magic and the mundane.

  The students were the same. Plenty of people wore ho-hum jeans and T-shirts, but for every “normal” looking outfit, there were two crazy ones that didn’t belong in this world. Cutting across an intersection in the hall, I spotted a guy rocking a snakeskin trench coat with no shirt underneath and a girl whose hoop-skirted gown took up half the walkway. Her two ladies in waiting had to lift the skirt to the side so I could sneak past, but the girl was too busy texting to notice she was causing a bottleneck.

  Even the hallways were a weird mix of modern and what’s going on here. Fluorescent lights were mounted between the ceiling tiles, but brackets for torches hung on the walls. In case of a magic-sparked power outage? The vinyl floor tiles looked like the ones in every other school I’d ever gone to, but they were engraved or painted with lines that tingled against the soles of my feet when I stepped on one. They were some type of ward, but the pattern must run around the whole school, so I couldn’t tell what it was—only that it was there.

  The campus was drenched with magic. For once in my life, I didn’t feel the need to hunch down, hoping nobody would notice me. Because nobody would notice me. I was nothing special when a triangle of girls in red robes were chanting with crystal balls in the middle of the atrium. And even if I was noticed? Who would care? Unless Agatha dropped me off at campus, I should be able to stay anonymous.

  My favorite thing.

  With Wynn tailing me, we crossed the quad to the lab building. It was about the same size as the admin building, but narrower inside. Signs in the hall pointed the way to the auto and welding labs. The science rooms were upstairs and the kitchens in the basement.

  I practically skipped down the stairs. I was hoping I could follow the smells to the baking lab, but apparently, it was still too early in the school year because nobody was in this part of the building and the halls were chilly with AC instead of sweaty with too many ovens cooking. As long as the lights were on, I was still going to poke around. Even if the lights went out, I could always light a torch.

  Although it seemed like that should be a fire hazard? Maybe my class on sanitation and health standards wasn’t going to be as boring as expected.

  The cooking kitchens clustered at the bottom of the stairs. I peeked through the vertical door window of the closest one and jiggled the handle, but it was locked. I glimpsed enough stainless steel and gas stoves through to get the idea, and my lips slipped into a dumb smile. I was totally okay with being a kitchen nerd.

  My pace picked up as I drew closer to what had to be the baking labs. Hoping for the best, I tried one more handle, not really expecting it to open.

  The knob turned. I bit my lip to stop a creeping grin. I probably shouldn’t be snooping when everything was deserted, but I was just looking. I wouldn’t touch anything.

  Or so I told myself as I stepped inside the lab.

  Rows of stainless-steel work tables took up the middle of the classroom. The back wall was one long row of industrial sinks, and the other walls were either shelves or more work tables. Big rolling bins of flour were tucked neatly in the corner, and a doorway off to the side had to be the oven room.

  A week ago, I would’ve been drooling, but Agatha’s already had me spoiled. Her kitchen was bigger than this, and all her gear was a little newer and less worn. The tables were shiny clean, but who knew how many years of students had scraped, scuffed, and battered the work surfaces. Plus, I was mildly horrified at the shelf of manual scales. I’d only ever weighed ingredients on digital and measuring the hard way was going to feel like stepping back in time.

  Wynn leaned against the doorway while I scoured the space. I was glad he was giving me a minute to breathe. The room was dead silent enough that I’d be creeped out with him following right at my back. Thankfully, he stayed where he was when I stepped into the oven room.

  Banks of different types of ovens took up two of the walls in the nook. Convection and steam-injection, even. There were big steel vents mounted to the ceiling, but even with good ventilation, it was probably a sweat box in here when everything was roasting.

  I was about to call my exploration done for the day, but a weird awareness made me step deeper into the room. The narrow back wall had a counter and top and bottom cupboards. A tray of tiny jars and vials sat out on the countertop, weirdly alone. There were no other ingredients out. Whoever managed the pantries must have gotten distracted while putting stuff away. It explained why the door was open, too.

  I should probably be out of here before the person in charge came back, but instead of walking away, I moved closer to the tray. Something about those vials called to me. I double-checked, but it definitely wasn’t the pull of the vortex because I didn’t hear the hum any louder than a background roar. This was a whisper. The littlest bit of magic feathering my skin.

  Potions? I couldn’t not check them out.

  Absently rubbing at my ear, I leaned closer to the vials.

  The dark glasses sloshed with unknown liquids and I couldn’t read the handwriting of whoever’d done the labeling. It was all looping and faded.

  A round-bottomed red glass seemed the most compelling for whatever reason. I picked it up and held it to the light, trying to guess what was inside. Looking didn’t help, but with the bottle closer to my face, I caught a faint whiff of vanilla.

  The cork stuck when I tried to pry it out, maybe hinting that I should leave it alone, but now that I’d smelled the contents, I wanted to check them out. The glass warmed my hands and made my fingertips tingle. I focused my energy on the vial, trying to scope out its enchantment. The spicy notes of a rich vanilla were hitting my sinuses when the fire burst in my earlobe.

  The vial slipped from my fingers. Time warped for a second, seeming to freeze and barrel forward at the same time. Everything clicked at once.

  The fire in my ear. My protective charm. The one that detected poisons.

  And then burning in my nose. The glass shattering at my feet.

  There’d be more fumes. More—

  Arms came out of somewhere to drag me away, but the magic was already boiling down the back of my throat like pure acid.

  And I was the fricking idiot who’d just poisoned myself.

  Chapter Ten

  I woke aching. It felt like a pipe bomb had ripped through the back of my throat, and my eyes burned every time I inhaled a breath of icy-cold air.


  “Anise?”

  It took a second to place the voice. I had to blink the haze out of my eyes before I could focus. Lonnie stood at my bedside wearing another fruit-print dress and a dark expression.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I opened my mouth, but sucking in enough air to speak sent double-bladed razors slicing down my windpipe. Not even trying that. I closed my lips and shook my head, which was slowly clearing too.

  What the hell had I done to myself?

  I’d guessed I was at the hospital, but now that I was processing again, I recognized the purple quilt and my canopy bed. So, I was back in my own bedroom at Agatha’s and not sure what that meant. It would make sense to take me home if the poison or whatever hadn’t hurt me much, but the burn at the back of my throat said that it had hurt.

  A lot.

  Should I be at the hospital?

  “Here. Which do you want?” Lonnie picked my phone and a notepad up from the dresser.

  I reached for the phone. I wanted a record of this conversation. I texted Lonnie the most obvious question first. What happened?

  Her phone buzzed in her dress pocket. She pulled it out, then shook her head. “We’re not sure. Wynn says he heard a bottle shatter. He grabbed you as you collapsed and dragged you away. Agatha’s just seeing out the healer who’s been with you since yesterday.” Lonnie must’ve seen my eyes bug out. “Sorry, dear. You were out of service for a solid day.”

  So, I’d already missed my first lab classes.

  Great.

  That probably shouldn’t be my first worry, but I couldn’t help it. I typed out another quick text. What did I inhale?

  “A potion with paralysis effects, according to the healer.”

  My eyebrows drew down. According to the healer? With a few shards of the bottle, it should only take a sec to figure out what exact kind of potion I’d sniffed. Lonnie read my mind.

  “It took hours to bring you home and stabilize you. By the time we sent someone to campus to investigate, whatever mess you made had been cleaned up. We’re trying to speak to the kitchen aides to figure out what happened, but there are no answers yet. Are you sure you don’t remember anything more?”

  I shook my head. My side of the story wasn’t complicated. Someone left out their potions, and I’d poked at them like it was my first time around magic. So, I was for sure an idiot.

  Then again, who left a buffet of poisons sitting out?

  A brew that could cause paralysis wasn’t throwaway magic. And how could someone clean up the broken vial without noticing the whole paralysis thing? I still felt like lava was oozing through my sinuses.

  My phone buzzed before I could find any answers. A new text from Gabi. Are you awake yet? Worried over here.

  Now that I was paying attention, I noticed all the other messages. Gabi had been texting like crazy since yesterday, and even Blair had left a quick, You OK? Warmth bubbled in my chest, beating back the pain for a few seconds. It meant a lot that they cared.

  But If Gabi and Blair were messaging, then every witch in town must already know what’d happened. So much for my anonymity at school—now anyone who’d seen me dragged off campus would remember me as that dumb girl who sniffed the potions.

  I didn’t sigh because it would hurt too much, but I let my head loll to the side.

  Then almost jumped out of the bedsheets.

  Wynn sat in my desk chair, arms hanging limp and head tipped back as he slept. I gaped at Lonnie. Has he been here the whole time?

  “Hasn’t left your side.” Her smile held a little too much smugness. “I knew you two would work it out.”

  I gave that the crazed look it deserved. His saving my life was hardly “working it out,” but my gaze lingered on him and for once I felt grateful instead of annoyed. I remembered him catching me before I hit the ground. If I’d gone down in the oven room, I wouldn’t have gotten up again.

  Probably ever. A knot of dread still tangled behind my ribcage.

  I texted Lonnie one more time. Can you give me Wynn’s phone number? I’d say thanks when I could, but for now, I wanted to put it in writing. And tell him he didn’t have to hang around in my bedroom. The only thing that could hurt me in this house was Fondant.

  “Doesn’t have one. You’ll have to do it the hard way.” Lonnie tossed a pen and notepad onto my bed. “But try to rest. The healer left a brew. She said to take a teaspoon every hour you’re awake and you’ll be back to normal within another day.”

  I found a sinister green bottle and a teaspoon on my nightstand and pulled my sheet up tighter. The texture of the potion inside looked like pureed cabbage and it probably tasted like grave dirt. I’d take a painkiller and hope it numbed the whole experience.

  Lonnie left me alone to rest, but “alone” was relative while Wynn was still in the room. I tried to close my eyes, but the sound of his soft, even breath wouldn’t let me relax. After a few minutes, I knew sleep wasn’t going to happen. Half of it was him, but half was because I’d already slept a solid day.

  When I kicked off the covers, I realized I was still in my clothes from yesterday. At least someone had pulled off my sneakers, but I felt sticky, like salt sweat had dried on my skin. I grabbed a change of clothes from the dresser, not even trying to tiptoe or be quiet. If Wynn didn’t wake up when I knocked over a tower of metal pans, he wasn’t going to wake up because my footsteps made the floorboards creak. It already took too much energy to walk around when every breath stung.

  I shut the bathroom door behind me and was about to strip down when I did a double-take at the open door across from me. I’d figured it was a pass-through, but it had been locked this whole time, so I’d forgotten. Creeping closer, I realized who I was sharing the bathroom with.

  Wynn lived next door unless Agatha had another houseguest who kept swords in his room. The tiny space must’ve been converted from a walk-in closet. There was only one dome light and no windows—just a narrow single bed, a desk that barely fit width-wise, a short cabinet, and a door to the hallway. A duffel bag bulged at the bedside. It was stuffed with swords and sharp medieval weapons, which was bad enough, but a few boxes of bullets sat on the carpet, and something that looked disturbingly like the barrel of a machine gun poked out from under a pile of long knives.

  And I was not okay with it. With any of this. Why did Agatha have this guy living in my freaking closet? And why did he have more weapons than a Michael Bay movie?

  I slammed the door shut and hit the lock. I wanted to believe that the poison thing was my fault, but the back of my neck tingled. Even a week ago, I would’ve kept blaming myself, but now it was too big a coincidence. A tray of potions left out? And the lab unlocked? When I had a bodyguard armed up like our house was a war zone? And I’d swear I felt a pull to head down to the lab. Had someone drawn me down there? But who?

  Agatha wasn’t telling me everything I needed to know. As soon as I could talk again, I had a few questions.

  I just hoped I could get her to give me a straight answer.

  After the steam from a long shower and two tablespoons of the vile brew, most of the burn had settled in my nose. I wouldn’t be giving any speeches, but I could croak enough to call Mom. Wynn had left my room, so I flopped down in my bed and wrapped myself in the comforter before dialing home.

  “Anise?” Mom picked up on the first ring.

  “Mom.” Ugh. My voice sounded like gravel sandwiched between sandpaper.

  “Anise?” Her pitch rose. “What happened?”

  “Either I’m a stupid klutz or someone tried to poison me.” I rubbed my throat. Only time would tell which and I didn’t like the idea of not knowing.

  “What? What’s happening over there?”

  I ran her through the basics, keeping it short to spare my throat the abuse.

  “Has anyone approached you asking for spells?”

  “No?” Was that something I should expect?

  “Good. That’s good. Hmm.” I could imagine her pacing the
apartment, making a teeny circle around the coffee table. I wished she was here with me instead of there alone. “You’ve only been in town a few days, so it’s hard to imagine anyone knows to target you at this point. But the last apprentice disappearing…” She sighed. “Girls who come out of the Syndicate lineages tend to attract predators. Even I grew up with a Shield.”

  It was kind of the same wishy-washy message I was getting across the board. I might be in danger, but then again, who knew? It seemed like everyone wanted me to get used to coexisting with a constant low-level threat. “Why won’t they tell me what’s going on?”

  “Because it’s the Syndicate.” Mom made a disgusted noise. “They’ll protect you all right, but you’re going to get treated like a toddler the whole time—tucked away somewhere safe while the adults handle the trouble. Always drove me batty. But…”

  “But?” The word came out a croak.

  “If it’s you in danger… I’m sorry to say I feel safer. I can’t protect you from here.”

  “The poison earring worked.” Kind of. I’d felt the burn of it, but since I’d never been poisoned before, I hadn’t recognized the flare of the warning magic.

  “I wish I could go to you.” Her voice was wistful and a little sad. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. I was a big girl… But maybe a baby, too, because I still wanted to hug my mom when everything was going wrong. “At least Agatha is taking your safety seriously. It’s not easy getting used to being followed, but your Shield won’t let you down. He physically can’t.”

  “Can’t?” That I wanted to hear about. “Lonnie wouldn’t tell me much about the Shields.”

  “They’re guardians brought in from one of the otherworlds. You’ll have to ask Agatha the specific terms of your Shield’s contract because they vary. Some Shields are fleeing home and some trade their service to benefit their families on the other side of the vortex. Either way, they can’t go back and are bound to do whatever task they’re given. Bodyguard duty’s one of the plusher jobs.”