Witch of All Witches: Tales of Xest #4

by Donna Augustine

  She held it up, tilting it and watching the way the fluids were separating. If she realized something was wrong, she didn’t say anything as she tucked it into her inside pocket.

  “And also, if you could do me a solid and—”

  “Another solid? How many solids do you need? I get any more solid and I won’t be able to walk due to the denseness of my being.” She was getting riled up, as Mertie tended to do.

  “I need a few extra cocoa runs a day,” I said, knowing it wasn’t really a solid at all. Everyone thought Mertie was doing us a favor by handling all the cocoa runs, since the rest of us couldn’t get served in the Sweet Shop if we stood on our heads and juggled with one hand. I was the only one that suspected the truth. She liked going. It gave her an excuse to annoy Gillian, who she definitely didn’t like.

  Her posture softened. “Oh, well, I guess I can do that if you really need me to. It’s a burden, but I can manage. I mean, I am a team player.”

  She walked out, smiling as she probably dreamt of harassing Gillian.

  I turned and found Oscar walking in. “Been trying to catch you alone, but it’s been pretty tough, as you’ve been disappearing a lot.”

  “Catch me? I’m hardly evading anyone,” I said, my back immediately stiffening with the implication. He might like being stared at like a zoo animal, and it wasn’t my cup of tea, but that didn’t mean I was hiding.

  I made my way to the counter, intent on having some tea in spite of his presence in the room, however irritating it might be.

  His gaze stalked my movements. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t like it,” he said.

  “I don’t remember asking for opinions on my life, but thank you anyway. And if we are offering up opinions, I don’t like this version of you either.” This Oscar was nothing like the man who made all sorts of idiotic and lowbrow jokes that I’d found oddly endearing. This Oscar I could do without.

  He followed me to the counter where I was brewing tea.

  “I’m telling you as a friend, I don’t know what you’re up to, but you’re not right. You need to stop it,” he said.

  This Oscar, along with not being very funny, didn’t take a hint well.

  “Let me spell this out for you. If I want you to tell me how to live my life, I will come and ask you. Otherwise, it’s none of your business.”

  “You’re with my friend. It’s my business.”

  “I’m not with him, not that any of this is your concern.”

  “You’re with him. You just haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “I think I would know.” I was ready to throw my cup of tea at his head if he didn’t shut up soon.

  “And yet you don’t.”

  “Oscar, last time I’m going to tell you to stay out of my business.”

  He pushed off the counter, giving me hope he was going to leave. After his “disappearing” comment, I’d be damned if I left first.

  Instead of walking toward the door, he leaned in my direction. Oscar wasn’t someone I’d put on my menacing list, but tonight’s darker version was a bit more threatening than I was used to. Still, he wouldn’t hurt me. Hawk wouldn’t let him, but I wasn’t quite as at ease as usual.

  “You want to keep doing what you’re doing? Fine. But keep Bibbi out of it.”

  These were fighting words if I’d ever heard any. I spun toward him. There was still a few-feet gap in between us, but that would narrow really fast if he didn’t back off.

  “I would never do anything that would hurt Bibbi, and I resent you implying I would.”

  “You wouldn’t intentionally, but you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  Yeah, another person telling me I was too stupid to have a clue about what I was doing in life. I’d had it up to my ears with people trying to tell me how I should be living. Now I was supposed to listen to him on who to talk to and be around.

  “And when did Bibbi become your business?” One day he was staring at her and now he thought he was closer to her than I was? Who was he to say anything about our relationship? She was my friend. I didn’t know if she had any relationship worth a damn with him.

  “When I saw a threat to her.”

  “You’re her protector now?”

  “If need be, yes.”

  I snorted and shook my head in only partially feigned disgust. “And who’s going to protect her from you? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “I would never hurt her,” he shot back.

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  His chest rose and fell as I waited to hear how he’d defend himself. We all knew he was a womanizer. As wonderful as Bibbi was, I doubted anyone would change Oscar’s ways.

  I must’ve struck a nerve, because he walked away.

  17

  Four hours more and I could sneak out to the hill. It felt like an eternity spreading out before me, but it wasn’t. It was nothing. The fact that I couldn’t wait to get back there, that I felt so good after I did, had to mean this was the right thing. Could something bad feel this right?

  I leaned back, taking long, deep breaths and wondered if I could sneak out a little early without anyone noticing.

  Zab had customers and Bibbi was deep in slips. Musso appeared to be concentrating on his paperwork. Mertie was hovering by the door to the back room, watching everyone, but especially me. She hovered for a few more minutes before she jerked her head toward the back and then disappeared.

  I followed immediately. Mertie didn’t typically call me over for secret meetings. This was one of two things: Zurdoch had information on the hill, which Mertie needed to share secretly, or something had gone wrong with the potion. Right now, it was a coin toss either way.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That potion you gave me? The one that was going to be payment? It didn’t work.” Mertie fisted her hands on her hips.

  Looked like the coin fell on tails, if that was the bad side. I never really did know if there was a good side.

  She was staring at me, expecting some response that I didn’t have.

  “Maybe he’s lying? He doesn’t want to pay up now that he got his end? Or he can’t because he couldn’t find the information he promised in the first place?” All plausible but a stretch. I’d suspected something off with the potion myself.

  “No. If he said it didn’t work, it didn’t work.” She was shaking her head. “Ever heard of the saying honor among thieves? They’ve got nothing on demons. We don’t bullshit each other. We don’t even try because we can’t. We’ve got a thing.”

  Did this mean I couldn’t even do a potion adequately anymore? No. That was extreme. I hadn’t ever done that one. Made sense it might have a glitch or two on the first go-around. What was a thing? Whatever it was, how reliable was it?

  “A thing?” I asked.

  She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s sort of an occupational gift. Point is, you can’t bullshit a demon. Even a retired demon can still see through the bullshit, which is why if I were you, I’d try a different angle you think is more plausible.” She crossed her arms and angled her head.

  Okay, there was a thing.

  “Oh, God.” My potion really hadn’t worked. I’d screwed things up before, but lack of magic had never been an issue.

  She started shaking her head again. “God has nothing at all to do with this. I mean, I guess we could put out some feelers in that department, but—”

  I waved a hand to stop her. “I didn’t mean that literally. It’s a Rest saying.”

  “Oh, yeah. Gotcha.” Mertie nodded.

  “So he’s not doing it?” Sounding disappointed when I was relieved was a lot tougher than I’d imagined.

  Her brows lifted almost to her hairline, as if she doubted my current intelligence. “No. Of course not.”

  My magic might’ve taken a hit, but this wasn’t all bad. I wasn’t sure I’d wanted to mess with the hill anyway. Now I wouldn’t have to. If whatever was happening during my
visits was fixing things, I wouldn’t need to do anything to the hill at all. I’d make all sides happy, and I still had some magic left. It wasn’t as if I were depleted. It wouldn’t take it all, would it? I was still a long way off from that happening.

  There was only one problem right now: Hawk. He wouldn’t take my word that what I was doing was the right thing. The man didn’t know the word compromise. He’d want to start a war when there didn’t need to be.

  “Are you going to tell Hawk? I mean, I know you will, but when were you planning on it?” I sucked in my lower lip, chewing on the edge.

  “I’ll tell Hawk he’s not going to make it and try to stall to buy you some time, but eventually it’s going to be an issue. Hawk is going to press for answers on why my friend isn’t doing a job he was supposedly paid for, and I’m not throwing him under the bus because you don’t have the mojo anymore. Something is going on with you. We all see it. I think you need some help or…something.”

  I crossed my arms, matching her stance. “I have plenty of mojo, thank you. I don’t have a problem.”

  Instead of getting her back up, she dropped her arms and looked deflated. “Look, I don’t care what you do. I don’t rule anyone’s life. But if you can’t do magic, something isn’t working. That’s all I’m saying. Do with that what you will.”

  “What do you mean he’s not coming for a while?” Hawk said.

  When Mertie offered to buy me a little time, I selfishly assumed she’d break it to Hawk when I wasn’t around. The only reason I’d come for dinner was that I hadn’t been able to shake Bibbi, and all the absences had been making suspicions worse. If I’d known this was coming, I would’ve bailed anyway.

  “He had an appointment that couldn’t be put off,” Mertie said, toying with the food on her plate. It wasn’t nerves that affected her appetite but Bertha’s latest meal. Mertie was one of the few people in existence that didn’t mind taking on Hawk.

  “When does he plan on coming, then?” Hawk asked.

  “He said he would reschedule for next week, maybe the week after.” She scanned the table, clearly appraising it for something edible.

  “Not acceptable. He was paid. He comes soon or we’re going to have a problem,” Hawk said.

  That was the tone he used when he was getting ready to declare war. I’d heard it myself more than once, right before the battle ensued. Mertie had given it a valiant effort, but this ship was sinking.

  I opened my mouth, and Mertie shot me a look, signaling she had it under control. She might’ve thought she did, but one look at Hawk said she definitely did not. The longer this went on, the worse it would get.

  “He doesn’t want to come, and it’s not his fault,” I said.

  Hawk turned to me and locked in with laser focus. “What do you know about this?”

  The entire room’s attention locked on me. They were all like family to me, and maybe that was why it was even harder to say I’d failed. I’d be more comfortable with strangers thinking poorly of me than these people. But it was done now. They’d all hear eventually, and everyone probably screwed up a potion here and there.

  “He wasn’t paid. My potion didn’t work for some reason. I’ll have to make him a new one.” Which might also not work, but there was no reason to add that bit in. I was sure everyone would wonder anyway.

  I braced myself for the barrage of questions. After that was done, Hawk would launch into some other warning or argument, telling me what I should or shouldn’t do.

  I took a deep breath, wondering how to stall him until later, and then put that off until never.

  I leaned back in my seat, waiting for the questions that didn’t come. They all seemed to be too interested in their food tonight, which left more time for Hawk.

  He didn’t speak for a minute. Then he said, “Fine.”

  That was it. No explosive fight? No yelling or arguing? Just fine? Worked for me.

  I made it through a few more bites, right until Oscar called Hawk away. A minute later, I had my jacket on and an excuse about needing some air. With the token in my pocket, ready to go, I was gone.

  I was at the hill a second later, and all the tension was eased in minutes.

  18

  The back room was empty when I walked in, just as I’d hoped. At this time of night, most everyone would be sleeping, but there was never a guarantee when it came to Hawk. No matter how I tried, nailing down his schedule was impossible, and I’d been taking notes lately.

  I wasn’t alone for long. Hawk stepped into the room, his gaze burning on mine.

  He stepped closer. “Where were you?”

  “Took a walk. I didn’t realize I was supposed to log my comings and goings for your approval.” The warm, calm feeling I’d had a moment ago was fading fast.

  “Bautere said you’ve been going by the hill. Why?”

  “Like I said, I took a walk.” So much for not telling tales.

  I walked over to hang up my jacket, and he wrapped his hand around my wrist.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to pull back from him. He crowded me against the wall, reaching up and feeling my neck, ignoring my tug on his wrist.

  So what if I was a little off? A little weaker? The last thing I needed was to hear it from yet another person. Everyone around here acted as if you had to be good all the time. You were supposed to be perfect, top of your game.

  “You feel drained,” he said, his hand still resting at the base of my neck, feeling the fluttering of my heart that I couldn’t stop whenever he was around, no matter how much I wanted to. I could be encased in a cement jacket and my heart would flutter as he neared.

  “I feel fine. I think I’d know.”

  His eyes narrowed but he dropped his hand. I moved away, trying to put distance between me and his close perusal.

  “Stop going to the hill. It’s doing something to you,” he said, letting me move away.

  “You mean relaxing me? Soothing me? I didn’t realize that was illegal.”

  “More like sucking the life from you,” he said.

  “You don’t understand the connection I have to that place. You just don’t want me to have something you don’t.” No one did. You’d think I was murdering people on that hill the way he made me feel like I had to hide it.

  “Do you hear yourself? You’re not thinking clearly.” He ran a restless hand along his jaw.

  I’d never seen him anything but in complete control, even when he was angry. His visible agitation was making me feel edgy myself, like it was a contagious condition.

  “Yes, you’re the one who always thinks clearly, right? Knows what he’s doing all the time and always gets what he wants. Isn’t that right?”

  “If that were true, we wouldn’t be standing here arguing,” he said, his voice getting gravelly.

  The deep vibration of his voice settled over and around me, triggering a counterpart inside of myself. It didn’t seem to matter if we were at peace or at each other’s throats—there was something that happened when I got too close to Hawk, and it wasn’t getting easier with exposure. It was growing.

  His eyes met mine, and we locked gazes. It was as if I couldn’t turn away from him this time. Couldn’t shake off the cravings I’d been shutting out. Maybe he was right and the hill was doing something to me, because I was losing the strength to fight this. I couldn’t even remember why I’d fought it in the first place.

  The heat swelled around me until I felt as if I were boiling from within. My chest rose and fell as something shifted, like the boiling anger was pulling all sorts of other feelings to the surface in a crescendo that was impossible to fight. Standing there with him so close and resisting felt like I was being battered by waves in a storm that would eventually take me under.

  He reached toward my neck. I thought he was going to feel my magic again, but he shifted his hands, running them through my hair at the base of my head.

  We’d kissed; we’d touched; we’d had our stolen moments. But this,
right now, was something different. Every cell of my body felt it as my hair stood on end, and goosebumps spread down my arms. The way he was staring at me, it was as if I was the only person alive, the only thing that mattered, the only thing he wanted.

  It was a feeling I reflected right back at him. My lips parted, my tongue wetting them as my gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth.

  It was the last straw as he crashed into me. He gripped the back of my head, holding me still while he devoured me. I was drowned by a wave of arousal so fierce that it was as if I’d never been touched before, never been with a man. His tongue danced with mine, demanding I answer.

  He didn’t have to demand anything. I was beyond holding back, matching every move. Months of daydreaming what it might be like to sleep with him were demanding an answer in the flesh. We’d barely begun and my body was already aching, wanting more.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, lifting me easily. I wrapped myself around him as he walked us over to the couch, dropped me onto it, and followed me down.

  I let my hands drift over his shoulders, his midsection, his back, everywhere I could reach, my hands greedy for the feel of his hard body.

  My shirt was yanked off. His fingers curled into the waist of my pants, and I raised my hips, letting him tug them down. He leaned back to finish the job, and his eyes went to the dark bruises on my knees. I’d been so in the moment that I’d forgotten they were there until he was sitting back on his haunches, looking at them.

  It was as if someone had doused us, or at least him, with a bucket of cold water. The carnal heat in his eyes had changed into something completely different.

  I shifted my legs, trying to angle my knees from view.

  He grabbed my ankles, stopping me.

  “What’s wrong with you? I have some bruises,” I said.

  He grazed his fingers over one knee, and I could do nothing but watch him.

  “How did you get these?” His tone was so steeped in accusation that any desire I had left was now as cold and soggy as a newspaper left out in the rain for days. His gaze shifted from my legs to collide with mine.