Hex at a House Party

by Gretchen Galway

  “That must’ve been lonely,” Birdie said.

  “It was heaven,” I said. For the first time in my life, I’d begun living like a normal person. Movies, summer jobs, video games. It’s when I’d begun crafting beads—the mother of one of my friends had been an artist.

  Tierra held up her wineglass. Less than an inch of burgundy liquid remained. “Here’s the sort of thing I do in my act. Watch carefully.”

  A grin lit up Nathan’s face. “This is one of my favorite spells of hers. It’s subtle but powerful.”

  “Don’t look away,” Tierra said. “You don’t want to miss it.”

  I stared unblinking at the glass in her hand, my senses alert for magic. But in the company of so many witches, the room was already filled with a low-grade buzz.

  “There you go,” Nathan said. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  The glass, her wine, her hand—all looked unchanged.

  Birdie peered closer. “I don’t get it. What happened?”

  I reached up to my necklace to amplify my senses—and froze with my splayed fingers at my throat. My beads were gone.

  “Don’t worry,” Nathan said. “They’ll turn up.”

  My smile was polite, but I wasn’t happy. Without them, I felt exposed, vulnerable. “I’d like them to turn up right now.”

  Nathan put his arm around Tierra and gave her a kiss on the mouth, as if her trick had turned him on. Then he shot me another smile. “See if you can find them. Or do you need those beads to do anything?”

  I gave him a cold stare. I didn’t blame Tierra, who was only doing a demonstration, but her boyfriend was looking for a fight.

  Without a word to the others, I looked down into my glass and took a slow drink as I cast out my powers to reconnect with my beads. Ah, there. They were surprisingly far away, buried beneath the cushions of a couch in the other room. The aura around them was a bit clumsy, telling me Tierra wasn’t quite as graceful with that kind of magic as I was. I’d been trained by a master, after all, and the beads and I were tightly bound, making them easy to find, especially when they’d been marked by the touch of another witch’s magic.

  That mark would make it easier for me to reclaim them, like a wire that connected her magic to mine. Turning away from Nathan, I looked out the window, past our images reflected in the glass, and considered visiting the beach in the morning. Taking another leisurely sip of my wine, I plucked the beads from their hiding spot and returned them to my neck. Then, using the beads for my own trick, I replaced Nathan’s underwear with a pair of Tierra’s panties that I found in their third-floor bedroom.

  When she’d stolen my beads, she’d given me a temporary key to her own possessions. The bond was swiftly fading—I couldn’t generally remove people’s intimate apparel—but it was strong enough for a minute or two.

  I turned around and smiled at him. For a moment I was tempted to put his boxers on top of his head like a hat—that bald head must get cold—but I didn’t want to push it too far. I wanted to stick up for myself, not make an enemy.

  I saw the precise moment he realized I’d done something to his underwear. His eyes widened and then narrowed.

  But to his credit, he didn’t seem angry. He removed his arm from Tierra’s shoulders, took an awkward step away, and gave his hips a little wiggle. Then he looked at me. “So maybe the apple really didn’t fall very far from the tree.”

  “Sometimes our parents teach us things we’d rather not learn, but we learn anyway,” I said.

  “What happened?” Birdie asked.

  Nathan turned to Tierra. “Feel that?”

  “Feel what?” she asked.

  He looked at me. “Didn’t you switch them?”

  “I didn’t touch the ones she’s wearing,” I said. “They came from upstairs.”

  His mouth fell open. “Really? That far?”

  I nodded.

  He reached a thumb under his jeans and pulled out a few inches of purple-and-white-striped microfiber. Tierra gasped and then broke out laughing.

  “But surely you’ve never touched her underwear,” he said. “Or did you go through our things when we were out?”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I said.

  He looked skeptical. “How did you… If you never touched…”

  “Tierra made a link when she touched and moved my necklace,” I said. “It’s worn off by now.”

  He and Tierra were looking at me with a mixture of skepticism and awe. Birdie was leaning back, studying Nathan’s backside.

  “Have you ever considered show business?” he asked me. “You and Tierra would make a fantastic act.”

  Tierra laughed. “Now you see why I wanted to talk to her.”

  “Did you put something in his pocket?” Birdie pointed at Nathan’s butt.

  He reached back and pulled out the boxers I’d put there. Grinning in appreciation, he waved them like a flag at Tierra. “Think of the possibilities. Imagine the bookings that would pour in. People would have to see it to believe it. No—experience it—for themselves.” He tucked the underwear back into his pocket. “We’d encourage couples to come. Date night. Two-drink minimum, of course, to make it easier to form a link at the start of the—”

  “Count me out,” I said. “I only did that to make a point.”

  “Why not make a point for money?” Nathan looked me over. “You don’t look like you’ve got more than you need.”

  I tightened my grip on my glass. “I’ve got enough.”

  “Ignore him,” Tierra said. “He’s great at reading a crowd, but not so great at reading a person. You’re obviously too smart to want to get on stage.”

  “Tierra, baby, it’s just the thing we need to take your show international. The puppets just aren’t enough—”

  “Your spell was really impressive,” Tierra said to me. “Thanks for showing it to us.”

  “We wouldn’t do anything without establishing consent first, of course,” Nathan said, although from his tone, it was hardly a given. “In writing, if necessary. We could screen people before the show, make sure nobody has privacy issues, get them to sign off—”

  “I’ll teach Tierra the spell,” I said. “You don’t need me.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “But I’d be happy to find something I could share with you. Puppets aren’t my only specialty.”

  “No offense,” Nathan said, putting an arm around Tierra, “but I don’t think you can do what she just did. I’ve seen what you can do. That was something else.”

  She pushed his arm away. “No offense, but you don’t know a frog’s third eyelid from plastic wrap. Leave the magic up to the experts.”

  Birdie and I shared a glance. Trouble in paradise.

  “Without me you’d still be working at Berkeley Library, performing for street people on Telegraph Avenue,” Nathan said.

  “Without me you’d be one of those street people,” Tierra replied.

  Nathan and Tierra glared at each other another moment before suddenly bursting out laughing.

  “Good one,” he said.

  “Never heckle a seasoned performer,” Tierra said, hooking her arm around his waist and smiling at Birdie and me. “Sorry for the drama. It comes with the territory.”

  “Is that part of your act?” Birdie asked. “Because it’s really convincing.”

  Tierra’s smile wavered. “No, we’re just both really passionate people.” She looked over her shoulder again. “When is Crystal going to feed us? I’m starving. She’s over there talking to the rich guy again. He doesn’t care. He brings his own food.”

  I was hungry too, especially after the spell I did with the underwear, which had taken a lot out of me.

  “I need to ask Mr. Thornton if he’d be willing to make an investment in the arts,” Nathan said.

  “Excellent idea,” Tierra said. “He’s very generous, from what I hear.”

  “Let’s hope—”

  Nathan cut himself off. At the same moment, the rest
of the room fell silent and turned toward the living room.

  Darius appeared. He’d changed into a charcoal-gray sweater and jeans, but his demeanor was all business. He’d been my rookie partner once, but even I experienced a shiver of respect at the sight of him striding past the antique dining tables as if he was about to interrogate a demon.

  Oblivious to Darius, Warren came out of the kitchen, holding a cutting board loaded with what appeared to be home-baked bread. He set it down on a sideboard, buttered a thick slice, and took a bite.

  “The butter is from the neighbor’s cows,” he said to nobody in particular. “Quite good. In the old days they blamed witches for dairy problems, didn’t they?” He licked his fingers and wandered past Darius without a word, picked a crumb off his chest, then busied himself with the telescope.

  Nathan raised his eyebrow at Tierra, who lifted her chin. “Genius,” she mouthed.

  A bell rang out, drawing everyone’s attention to the bar. Crystal gestured to the women in white shirts bringing out serving dishes from the kitchen.

  “Dinner is served,” she said.

  “About time,” Tierra muttered. “I’m so hungry I could eat Nathan’s cooking.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After dinner, Birdie and I grabbed our coats and went for a walk along the steep cliff above the beach.

  “Now would be a good time to practice your defensive spells,” I said. Meeting Nathan, who seemed flexible about witchcraft morals, had made Birdie’s lessons more urgent. “Out of the house, there’s less of a distraction. You can focus on your own magic.”

  Dinner had been informal, with people serving themselves from dishes at the bar and sitting around the mismatched B & B dining tables. Warren sat next to Birdie and me, talking about birds. The others, perhaps overhearing an older man lecturing about seabird migration patterns, had chosen seats elsewhere. Darius had sat with Phil and Zoe, but they’d been too far for me to hear what they’d talked about.

  “What’s the point practicing here?” Birdie asked, pushing the hair out of her eyes. The stiff wind had pulled it out of the clip she wore. “I’m not strong enough to fight off any bad witches yet. Seems like I’m better off just being myself. And besides, why would anyone want to hurt me?”

  Her good nature was exactly what made her vulnerable, but I didn’t want to scare her. “Because you’re Tristan Price’s daughter, which is why Crystal invited you. You may not have any power now, but you might develop more in a year or two. You don’t want some intrusive witch planting a seed for trouble down the road.”

  “A seed?”

  “You’re susceptible to danger. Witches are usually trained from a younger age than you are,” I said. “What you saw me do earlier with the underwear is an example of how you can get corrupted by Shadow even if you’re trying not to be.”

  Shadow was the negative side of magic, with Bright on the other. Most witches did their best to lean to the light, but it was a constant struggle. Some didn’t bother fighting Shadow and enjoyed or were indifferent to other creatures’ suffering. The Protectorate was officially devoted to the defense of Brightness and rejection of Shadow but, of course, didn’t always succeed. After all, witches were only human.

  “But that was funny,” Birdie said. “He was annoying, and you showed him you weren’t going to let him push you around.”

  “The only reason I could do that was because my father taught me how to bend the rules before I could talk.” I picked up a stone and brought it to my nose, smelling for magic. Sometimes valuable minerals were just rolling around on the ground, waiting to be found. I wasn’t an expert, but I was learning. “I violated Tierra’s privacy, going into her things like that. I shouldn’t have done it.” The stone felt good in my hand, so I tucked it into my pocket. My thieving father had also taught me to have compulsively sticky fingers—You never know what might be worth something—but I only took from nature.

  My father’s lessons had been a mixed bag. As I got older, I was learning how to keep a few tricks that were useful instead of just bitterly throwing all of them aside.

  “She took your necklace,” Birdie said.

  “I’d given her permission when I let her touch it earlier,” I said. “But taking something from inside her room, the four walls of her temporary home, her private space—breaks several laws. She could report me to the Protectorate. It would be easy—there’s an agent right here.”

  “You know him. The hot one. Will you introduce us?” Birdie zipped her jacket up to her chin. The wind blew the hair into her face again. “Sometimes the quiet types go for loud women. It lets them off the hook, especially if you go out and there’s a party with people who want to know all about what’s going on and the guy just really, really doesn’t want to talk, but social settings require small talk sometimes, don’t they?”

  I tried to imagine Darius and Birdie lasting five minutes together. He’d disliked me even before I’d let Seth throw him into the bay. Other agents had also found him aloof, even arrogant. I imagined talkative, excitable Birdie would make him want to jump off a bridge without any help.

  “He’s pretty serious about his job,” I said. “Don’t expect him to be friendly.”

  “I don’t expect anyone to be friendly,” she said. “That’s my superpower. I plow on anyway.”

  I picked up a stick. Lately I’d been experimenting with narrower samples of wood, wrapping thread around them instead of drilling holes to form pendants and charms. The drill only worked on large pieces. “I won’t stand in your way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Do you trust him?” she asked.

  Surprised, I dropped the stick and turned to her. “That’s a good question. You’re really catching on.”

  “Well, do you?”

  “I do, but you should form your own opinion.” My sixth sense made me look behind us at the house. A man was making his way toward us, one hand hooked in his rear pocket. I recognized Darius’s stride. “Here comes the witch now.”

  Birdie pulled the hood over her head. “You know, never mind what I said. You’ve intimidated me. I’m not ready. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “You should at least—” I began.

  “This always happens. I talk big but I’m really a coward. My mom said it’s why I always dated losers.” She tightened the drawstring, shrinking the oval portion of her face that was visible to just her eyes, nose, and mouth. “I’m going to see if Tierra can show me her puppets now. Sounds horrifying—magic puppets?—but she offered to show them to me.”

  Before I could stop her, Birdie hiked into the grass, giving Darius a wide berth as she passed him.

  I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Until recently, she and I had only been neighbors, not good friends, in part because she came on so strong and talked too much. Even for a casual friendship, she could be a lot to handle. One hope I had for introducing her to other witches was that she might find a community of other eccentric people and suffer less loneliness. Some people just weren’t suited to living alone.

  I turned and continued walking, going slowly so Darius could catch up. He did so without saying hello, falling into step beside me in silence as the wind blasted us at an angle.

  “That’s Tristan Price’s daughter,” he said.

  “Nice to see you again, Darius.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Elizabeth Crow,” I said, although I’m sure he’d researched that already. “She goes by Birdie.”

  “She really didn’t know he was her father?”

  “Not until her mother died a year or two ago.”

  “She’s got a little power, but it’s buried,” he said. His hand was still hooked in his rear pocket, but his posture was rigid, making him look relaxed but ready to pounce.

  “You already scanned her?” I asked, but I wasn’t surprised. Darius was thorough, always alert, never idle.

  “Yours, though, is stronger than it was.” He sounded a little annoyed, which pleased me. “What d
id you do? Is it something you’re wearing?”

  I had no interest in explaining my current talent developing focus beads, if that’s what he was sensing. “I noticed you wore the silver jacket when you arrived. Was that your idea or Raynor’s?”

  He stopped and looked at me, although it was too dark for either of us to see each other’s faces, unless he was using a spell I couldn’t detect. “My work here is none of your business.”

  “Raynor sent me,” I said. “Your boss.”

  “I have no idea why you convinced him to send you here,” he said, “but it has nothing to do with me. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.”

  I rolled my eyes. How ironic. Darius actually thought I wanted to be here? I could only imagine how angry he’d be if he knew the truth: that one reason I’d come was to save Seth Dumont’s life again.

  After a moment to make sure I could respond politely, I said, “He believes I can help you.”

  I hadn’t told Darius when we were partners about my fae sight, and I certainly wasn’t going to now—he liked me even less than he had then. The sight was unlikely to be very useful, especially with so many witches around. The fae usually avoided any humans in groups. And what would they have to do with blackmail? No, I figured Raynor had mentioned our shared talent just as an excuse to get me here.

  Darius didn’t say anything for several long moments. “You can help me? Like last time, you mean?”

  I took out the stone in my pocket and held it in my open palm, drawing upon the flecks of minerals to light the air between us like a dim candle. “Look, it wasn’t my idea to be here. I’d rather be in Silverpool,” I said. “But Raynor wants me to be an agent.”

  Darius’s frown was exaggerated by the deep shadows cast by the light in my hand. “Then he’s the only one who does.”

  I clenched my teeth, stung by the confirmation he hadn’t forgiven me. It wasn’t as if I myself had sent him into the bay. And the suspect we’d chased—Seth—had turned out to be innocent, at least by my standards.