The Most Wanted Witch: Tales of Xest

by Donna Augustine

  “When I feel Dread, there’s nothing but overwhelming rage and hate. Whatever lies in that hill feels like the complete opposite of that. It…” My voice faded as I recalled the warm feelings it had stirred in me.

  He leaned his shoulder on the window frame, waiting for me to finish. “It what?”

  “It wants me near it. Like it was calling to something in me, and it felt…” I shook my head. Hawk and I only talked half of the time I saw him. The other half were glares and stares of accusation. Discussing the overwhelming pull I felt from a mound of dirt with him was a huge leap.

  He went back to staring out the window. “I don’t think you should meet with Xazier anymore, or Lou for that matter. You said yourself that they want something from you. After they showed up today, I like the situation even less.”

  The fight coming could be seen from miles away. It was as if we were unable to be civil for more than ten minutes at a clip.

  “I can’t cut them off because they appeared in a field by a hill. I made an agreement,” I said.

  His eyes met mine. “You know there’s something wrong. If you don’t trust your instincts, you’ll never survive here.”

  My spine straightened. “That subject is closed.”

  “I’m not suggesting you leave. After today, I’m convinced it’s too late anyway. There are those that are hard to hide and others that are impossible. You fall into the latter at this point. This die has been cast. What I’m saying is stop being soft or you’ll end up dead.”

  Soft? Did he think any part of me wanted to go to those meetings? It was the hardest thing I did. He didn’t need any more ammunition to load the gun that would blow this whole deal sky high. Soft would’ve been agreeing with him and then letting him deal with the fall out. Soft was having someone walk me across the street every day.

  “I’m on the hook with Xazier, and whether or not you want to admit it, I saved everyone’s ass. I don’t need to hear how I should toughen up. As to Lou, deal or no deal, if I stop speaking with him, it’ll set off alarms. You can judge me all you want, but we would’ve already lost Xest if I hadn’t done what I’d done.”

  “While you may believe that, it doesn’t make it true.”

  He turned his attention, or at least his gaze, back to the window, like a man who wasn’t used to having to compromise. According to the deference I saw around Xest, and Oscar’s chat the other day, it was beyond obvious that he didn’t get much pushback.

  Oscar was crazy enough to think my unwillingness to bend to Hawk was why we’d be well suited? If he saw Hawk’s locked jaw and bulging veins right now, or my clenched fists, he’d understand how foolish that notion was.

  “Tell me one thing and I’ll never give you grief about your need to sacrifice yourself again.” Hawk locked eyes on me.

  “What?” As much as I feared where this was going, I couldn’t very well decline now.

  “Why do you think you’re worth so little?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Either answer honestly or don’t answer at all, but let’s skip the bullshit.” He shook his head and looked away.

  “Let’s not forget you wanted nothing more than to get rid of me, remember?” He was awfully quick to judge my actions. What about his own?

  He pushed off the window and came to stand before me. “I was never trying to get rid of you. I was trying to shield you because I saw your worth. You’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”

  I huffed. “That’s right. I forgot. I’m worth so much that you either try to get rid of me or act like I’m the only one who can save Xest.

  “Seriously, you and the rest of this place think I can save something when I might end up being the thing you should get rid of. If I didn’t think you weren’t so confused about what I am, I probably wouldn’t tell you. I’d be too afraid you’d kill me, but you’re so intent on keeping your belief that it doesn’t even matter.” As soon as those words left my mouth, I wished there was a way to suck them back in. I didn’t really want to die. Planting the idea that he was better off killing me was perhaps the stupidest thing I’d ever said, and I’d had quite a few stupid moments in my life.

  He was still standing over me, silent. Should I run? Had my little speech made him see that light? When I finally looked up, there was definitely realization in his expression, but he didn’t appear to be on the verge of attack.

  “You think that’s what’s going on? I’m dug into a position and won’t let go? I’ve already invested too much and have convinced myself, so I’m blind? Because I’ll tell you right now, that’s not the case.” He shook his head and crossed his arms. “Is that why you offered yourself up as collateral? Why you’re so determined to be angry with me? Easier to keep a buffer because one day I’ll figure out that you’re evil?”

  I cleared my throat, letting out a forced laugh. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself with this psychoanalyzing crap. I’m trying to help you out, is all.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing.” Hawk sighed. “Don’t go back to the hill alone.”

  “That I can agree with.” It was the easiest agreement we’d ever made. I got up from the couch. We’d hit the witching hour, where all conversations would dissolve back into fighting if I stayed. I made my way out of the room before our high note finished with a low note.

  Gillian was walking upstairs as I made my way down. She glanced up beyond me.

  “Is Hawk up there?”

  “Yes. He’s all yours.” I gestured back to direction I’d just come from.

  “Oh. Another fight?” She could barely hide her smile.

  “Isn’t there always?” I smiled for her and softly laughed, giving her license as well. Then I walked away from her.

  Hawk walked by me, but instead of ignoring me, he watched me. I wrote the wrong note for the third time in a row. I needed him to leave, or at least go back to ignoring me the way he had been. This constant feeling of awareness was doing me in.

  It seemed like no matter where he was in the office, his attention was on me. It was like a switch had been tripped yesterday. I wasn’t certain where the switch was or how to turn it back off, but I was going to screw up work if he didn’t cut it out.

  Bibbi walked over and crouched beside my desk, resting her forearms on it as she leaned in. “What’s going on?”

  “What are you talking about?” I ignored the way she was watching Hawk watch me.

  “Don’t play stupid. I’ve been paying attention, and you know it. It’s like some weird game is afoot, and I need to know the details. Something has changed in the dynamic here.” The entire time she spoke, she never stopped staring about the room, watching where Hawk’s attention went, which kept coming back to me.

  “Can we talk about this later, when everyone else isn’t watching? I don’t want to turn this into a spectacle, if possible.”

  “So there is something. I knew it.” Bibbi wasn’t doing a great job of hiding her glee at being right.

  There was a movement across the room, but I kept my eyes on my desk, refusing to meet Hawk’s gaze again.

  Bibbi whispered, “He just left. Now spill.”

  I stood. “Let’s go get tea.” I made my way to the back room before she could say anything else that might’ve been overheard. I couldn’t say “let’s go to the Sweet Shop” anymore because Bibbi hadn’t set foot in that place in weeks because of her silent Gillian protest. I couldn’t even say “let’s have a cocoa in the back” because that was off the menu too. Cocoa had become a bad word around here. Even good-natured Bertha got an odd look when chocolate of any kind was mentioned these days, like someone had suggested sipping poison instead of sweets.

  Bibbi followed so close that she caught my heel on the way to the tea kettle.

  I’d barely tilted the kettle when Bibbi started in. “What happened in the last day or so that you two went from not looking at each other, to you still not looking at him but he looks like he wants to rip your clothes off? And I mean tha
t in the best way possible.” She was grinning and nodding, no shame in her game.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

  “You mean what’s right with him?” Bibbi giggled.

  I ignored that and the gleam in her eye. “He’s acting weird for no reason.”

  “Did you kiss or something? There’s got to be more to it.” The grin was gone, replaced with a hard look, as if I’d ripped a good book out of her hands right when she was getting to the juicy parts.

  “No. We had another one of our arguments, if you must know. We got into it as usual yesterday. Then I didn’t see him again until he showed up in the office a little while ago with this weird attitude.”

  She tilted her head back, crinkling her nose. “What did you fight about?” she asked, as if that would make things clearer.

  “Same old thing. He wants me to do one thing, and I’m going to do another.”

  “Very curious indeed. Are you sure there isn’t something you’re leaving out?” She sat down on the nearest chair, propping her chin on her palm, looking like the Thinker statue.

  “Positive.”

  Oscar walked in the back door and came to an abrupt halt. His stare shifted between Bibbi and me.

  “Hey, Oscar,” I said, turning back to my tea.

  Bibbi cleared her throat, got up out of her chair, and tilted her head back toward the door he’d walked in.

  Oscar nodded.

  “What are you two up to?” I asked, not liking the Kumbaya moment unfolding in front of me. These two in cahoots meant nothing but meddling and no good. They wouldn’t just join forces, but multiply my troubles if they got on the same page.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Bibbi said, chewing on her lower lip.

  “Yeah, nothing,” Oscar said, then looked at Bibbi and walked back out the door without another word.

  Bibbi leaned against the table, suddenly having nothing to say.

  I took a step toward the office. “You coming, or do you have something else you need to do?” I asked, as if she wasn’t going to conspire with Oscar in the alley in two minutes.

  She nodded. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  Whatever they were plotting, I’d find out sooner or later whether I wanted to or not.

  30

  There was a strange vibe running through the back room at dinnertime. It started with the musical chairs as I went to grab a seat beside Musso.

  Bibbi ran and sat in it first.

  “I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” she asked, as if I hadn’t had my hand on it and been pulling it out.

  “No, that’s fine.” I narrowed my eyes on her. Whatever she was plotting, it looked as if the first act was afoot.

  Her eyes opened wider, as if she were as innocent as a day-old foal.

  Unlikely.

  I moved to a different seat, and Oscar settled in beside me. No sooner had he sat, his arm was resting along the back of my chair.

  Musso and Bertha were looking askance but said nothing. Zab wasn’t looking over at all, so whatever they were up to, he either knew or wanted to feign ignorance.

  Whatever they were doing, at least I only had to deal with their weirdness and not Hawk’s change of attitude on top of it. He’d decided not to show for dinner, which was usually hit or miss with him anyway.

  “Do you like that seat for some reason, Bibbi?” Gillian reached for the large platter on the table, helping herself to a nice, big serving.

  “I get cold. This spot is warmer,” Bibbi said.

  The spot she’d fought me for was closest to the back door and the draftiest in the room. No one, including me, bothered to call her out on that.

  Hawk walked in the room, and Gillian beamed. I stared at my food. Everyone else acted like normal people would.

  Hawk took the last chair available, which was nearest Gillian because no one sat next to her unless they had to.

  “Here, Hawk. You should try some of this.” She didn’t wait for him to respond as she filled his plate for him.

  He didn’t seem to hear her, as he was staring at the back of my seat. Or, to be more accurate, the arm resting on the back of my seat.

  “Bertha, these rolls are amazing,” Gillian said, putting one on Hawk’s plate. “You know, I have this chocolate spread that would bring them to the next level if you’re interested?”

  And that was why there was always an empty seat beside her. The closer the proximity, the harder it was to ignore those types of comments.

  Bertha smiled. “I’m sure you do.”

  Oscar’s chair shifted closer. “Talking about delicious, Tippi, you have to try this meat Bertha made.” Oscar stabbed a piece on his plate and then held out his fork for me to eat off.

  I went to push Oscar’s fork away and tell him to get the hell out of here with this hand-feeding act. I wasn’t the type of woman who enjoyed being hand-fed, ever.

  But Gillian’s movement stilled my own. As she began to butter the roll on Hawk’s plate, Oscar’s offering looked better. I’d let Oscar feed me, whether I liked it or not.

  I leaned in and groaned as the meat melted in my mouth. Oscar wasn’t kidding.

  “Wow, that is good. Bertha, you really outdid yourself. I’m not sure I’ve ever tasted anything more delicious in my life. You must’ve had a line around the block waiting to get your meals.”

  “Well, I was pretty busy,” Bertha said. “I had a good half of Xest ordering from me. It got to be tiring after a while, all the hustle and bustle—”

  “Oscar, I need to talk to you in the other room,” Hawk said, his chair clanging as he got up.

  The room went silent as we all watched the two of them leave.

  Now what? If Hawk thought he was going to dictate who I was with, even if it was pretend, he had another thing coming. I went to stand, but Bertha grabbed my arm. My sweater blocked the tingle of magic-to-magic contact, but it was still not a done thing in Xest.

  Her shaking head and serious face mirrored her actions. “They’ve been friends and allies for a long time. They can work it out. Oscar can handle himself.”

  I sat back down, and a glass of wine was placed in front of me. “Have a drink. It’ll make you feel better,” Musso said.

  Someone should’ve poured Gillian one. She appeared to need it as she watched the door.

  Raised voices carried into the back, but it was the kind of yelling you did when you didn’t want anyone to hear. The words were muffled.

  Oscar must not have put up much of a fight, as they both walked back in shortly after they’d left. Hawk entered first, looking more determined. Oscar walked in right behind him. There was a flash of a smile right before he wiped it off his face, as if he weren’t supposed to be happy about the outcome.

  Hawk walked over to his spot and picked up his plate and glass. Maybe Oscar had won? Looked like Hawk didn’t want to eat with us tonight after all. Then Hawk walked around the table, with Gillian watching his every move. Instead of leaving, he continued until he was standing in front of Oscar’s seat.

  Oscar walked over as well and picked up his plate before heading toward Hawk’s abandoned seat.

  Hawk settled in next to me.

  “What’s… What are you doing? Why are you switching seats?” How was I supposed to eat now? It was hard enough ignoring Hawk when he was at the same table. Now his elbow might brush mine.

  I reached for my wine. There was going to be at least one refill in my future.

  “What happened to my glass?” I scanned the table, wondering where it had disappeared. I glanced at everyone but Gillian. She was another one I’d have to ignore tonight.

  No one said anything. If someone had taken my wine by accident, they weren’t owning up to it.

  “You can share mine,” Hawk said, moving his glass in between us.

  It seemed a bit intimate, but no worse than eating off Oscar’s fork. Not a big enough issue to start one of our fights in front of everyone. This dinner was already too much of a stru
ggle to make it through without at least another few sips of wine.

  I took the glass and was a little greedier than I probably should’ve been. By the time I put the glass down, the entire table was staring at me in varying shades of shock.

  “I was thirsty.” They kept staring.

  One would’ve thought I’d stolen the entire bottle and had an alcohol problem with the gaping mouths. Oscar was the only one who seemed quite pleased with my chugging ways.

  I went back to eating, determined to ignore all the oddness of today. This meal couldn’t be finished fast enough.

  I was chewing huge chunks of meat, trying to get done, when the sniffling started. The sounds were coming from Gillian’s side of the table. Had things gotten so bad that Hawk had to sit next to her or she had a meltdown? I glanced up, hoping she was getting sick instead. It would be much more respectable.

  She was staring at me and Hawk, crying. No one was saying anything, as if this were normal. It was like the entire place had gone mad overnight.

  “He’s just sitting here instead of there. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure he’ll sit with you again tomorrow.” The more I talked, the louder and uglier her crying got. By the time I was done, she was bawling.

  Why was no one saying anything? She didn’t like me. Shouldn’t someone else step in?

  “Hawk, can you go sit next to her so we can all eat in peace?” As much as it grated on my last nerve, no one was going to be able to eat if something didn’t happen here. He’d either have to move or I’d have to go eat in my room.

  “I can’t,” he replied crisply.

  I turned to him. He was looking at Gillian. His face was solemn, but he wasn’t getting up or saying anything.

  The only thing that paused Gillian’s sobbing was the occasional hiccup. She tossed her napkin down, scrambled up from her chair, and ran from the table.

  Bertha was shaking her head and looking down. It was as if the entire table knew something I was oblivious to.

  “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen,” Musso said.

  “Tell her what?” I asked.