Disha

by Ingrid Seymour

  He glanced at me, frowned and then dropped his eyes.

  “Nevermind,” I said, full anger roiling now. He’d tricked me, got me captured and then stuck in the middle of nowhere with no Starbucks in sight. I was pissed.

  He didn’t need a memo to figure out how mad I was. The walk was quiet for several minutes, just the crunching of his feet on the sand and the swirling wind to fill the void.

  Finally, he spoke again. “When we get to civilization, you can call for help and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I said, chewing my lip. “It’s just… I don’t know if I can trust anything you say.”

  “It’s fine. I know what I look like. It’s totally fine.”

  I bristled at this. “What you look like? Is that what you think is the problem? You think I’m that shallow?”

  His eyes narrowed. His response spoke volumes.

  Now I was really pissed.

  “Put me down. Now.”

  He stopped trudging and obliged. I scampered out of his arms and began slogging through the sand away from him. My anger fueled me for about twenty minutes, but the sand seemed to suck all my progress away. My throat was parched and my eyes were burning from the grit. Even my magic seemed tired. I was so foggy I couldn’t even get the basic spells to work properly. I was pretty sure I was dehydrated and I was definitely sure these ballet flats were not appropriate footwear to traverse a desert.

  Drew walked steadily behind me, not saying a word.

  My anger dissipated and was replaced by exhaustion. Finally, as the moon rose to its apex, I slumped to the ground unable to go any further.

  Drew stepped up behind me and gently lifted me into his arms. Then he continued his slow trudge towards God knew where.

  Hours passed. I fell in and out of sleep. Every time I woke, Drew was still walking. The landscape hadn’t changed, just a sea of sand ahead of us and a starry sky above us. It had grown cold, but Drew’s body emanated a heat that kept me warm.

  I wasn’t angry anymore, just tired. I wanted desperately to go home. Were we even out of danger? Couldn’t the hag and the oily warlock just pop back here once we’d worn ourselves out and capture us again?

  Awake now, I stared up at the stars. There were more than I’d ever seen. It was as if someone had scattered a million diamonds across a black canvas.

  “That’s a lot of stars,” I murmured.

  Drew nodded. “I’ve been studying the stars. I think we’re in Mexico. It would make sense. They have three deserts. I’m just not sure which one this is.”

  “Mexico?” I said quietly. I was so far from home. Tears streamed down my face.

  Drew glanced at me. “Disha, I—”

  “If you say you’re sorry one more time I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

  His lips clamped shut.

  “Was that true what you said about your father? Did he really leave you for months in captivity last time?”

  Drew nodded. “Keeping my true self a secret is the most important thing to our family. Having a son who is a Lesser and one of the worst kind at that, well… Let’s just say my father wouldn’t be head of the high council for long.”

  “Are you serious? You think people are that prejudiced?” I asked, truly shocked.

  Drew nodded solemnly. “So, the only thing I ask is that you help me transform back into my other state before we get to town. The scarecrow did something to me which is making me unable to shift. I can’t let people see me like this.” He nodded down to indicate his body, something he was doing a lot.

  It was as if Drew had stopped apologizing for what had happened and started apologizing for what he was.

  “Can you put me down?” I asked. “There’s something I want to say to you.”

  He stopped and carefully lowered me to the ground where I stood and stared up at him, craning my neck to peer up into his dark eyes.

  “Drew, listen to me. I don’t know what your family has told you, but you are not a monster.”

  His jaw hardened.

  “You aren’t. Are you listening?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know you very well, but, from what I’ve seen, you care about people. You make sure people are safe. And you’re a badass fighter.”

  He gave me a smile that quickly disappeared into his patented stoney appearance.

  “You seem good and kind and sweet, despite the bum wrap life has given you. And if your family can’t see that, well, they’re dumb.” I put my hand on my hip and stared at him. “Got it?”

  “Yeah,” he said, that smile reappearing again. Drew stared down at my face tenderly, his eyes flicking momentarily to my lips before darting away again. I thought he might kiss me and I thought I might let him. But then the moment passed and he made no move. He just shifted from giant foot to giant foot as the sand swirled around us.

  “Okay,” I said, blowing out a breath. “Now let’s get to civilization. I need a pedicure. Stat.”

  We walked all night.

  I tried to make it on my own, but after a few hours, dropped from exhaustion again. Once more, Drew picked me up, carrying me with no effort and giving no complaints. It appeared having a goliath around came in handy.

  “You don’t get tired?” I asked him, staring at the sloping lines of his face as he walked. He was still handsome, just in a unique way. I hadn’t seen it right away, but now, up close, he was spectacular.

  “I do get tired. Eventually.”

  “How long would it take?” I asked, putting my arms around his tree-trunk neck. It was nice feeling his muscles shift beneath me as he walked.

  “I tire after about three days. I know I can go at least seven days without water and three times that without food.”

  How he knew that information bothered me, but I didn’t ask. “Do you know how you came to be a Goliath? I mean, does it run in the family?”

  “My uncle was one. On my mother’s side. She never told my father. He was… displeased.”

  I shook my head. “Your dad seems like a piece of work. I mean, no offense.”

  “None taken,” Drew said. “He is one. Total douche.”

  “Total douche,” I repeated, giggling a little. “Who knew the head of all magic was actually a feminine hygiene product.”

  “I know,” Drew added, playing along. “And the Regent to the Southern Hemisphere is a real tampon. True story.”

  I snorted, picturing it. “Wow. That’s awful.”

  Drew laughed. “What’s awful is the Arch Regent of Europe. I can’t even tell you what he is. Too embarrassing.”

  “All these State secrets. So much gossip I’m learning.”

  “You can’t tell,” Drew said.

  I made a pantomime of locking my lips with a key and throwing it away.

  His face grew serious then. “Also, it would be really great if you wouldn’t mention what you learned about me.”

  I pinched my lips together. “I won’t, but seriously, Drew. You don’t have to be ashamed. Some of my best friends are non-wizards. The stigma is changing. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are.”

  He nodded slowly. “It’s nice that you think that, Disha. You’re really…. something special.”

  Drew stopped trudging and looked down at me. I stared up into the dark, stormy depths of his eyes. They reflected moonlight as they toured my face. His heart beat faster, I could feel it thudding beneath me, and mine answered, speeding up as our bodies moved closer together. His skin was warm and smooth beneath my hands as I moved them over his expansive shoulders and up his neck.

  He blinked, his lips parting slightly. He was still hesitant, still worried all of this might be a ploy, that no woman would like him in this form.

  I gripped Drew’s face and kissed him.

  He gave a little gasp, stiffening at first, but then molding into me. His lips were warm and soft, his mouth pliable as he deepened the kiss, pulling me to his broad chest as if he wouldn’t be close
enough until every inch of my skin touched his. I gripped his face, feeling the surge inside my chest, the warm, honey-golden longing, the hot, fire-burst passion. All those emotions were there, and more. Confusion. Yearning. Desire.

  Drew pulled away, taking deep breaths and searching my face for answers.

  “That wasn’t pity,” I said, brushing a thumb along his strong jaw. “Don’t even let that thought into your head.”

  He chuckled, shaking us both. “Okay, okay. I can see I can’t fool you.”

  “Not one bit,” I said, smirking.

  “Then I’ll need to be careful,” he said, eyes crinkling warmly.

  “Definitely careful. I’m dangerous.” I winked.

  “I saw that. Trust me. I’m not messing with you.”

  “Good. Now let’s get the hell out of here. You still owe me a proper first date.”

  NEED MORE? Read on for a sneak peek of Junior Witch, coming July 16th!

  SNEAK PEEK OF JUNIOR WITCH

  CHAPTER 1

  FALL SEMESTER

  EARLY SEPTEMBER

  The gnomes were a problem. That was the only thing I knew for certain when I stepped inside Counselor Macintosh’s office on the first day of my junior year.

  Irmagard’s office always looked like an episode of Hoarders even on a good day. From my place in the doorway, I clocked an antique tandem bicycle, a six-foot tall stack of old 1950s style radios, and a paper mache goose so large that it could house a human. It was wearing sunglasses.

  All this was normal, or at least the normal I'd come to expect from kooky Irmagard. After my freshman year summer on her beet farm, I’d gotten to know her many idiosyncrasies. For example, how she seemed to like her ferret, Gerald, better than almost any human; how she seemed to favor clothing found mainly in any dead aunt’s attic storage; and how she had no reserves when it came to public nudity.

  I’d still never completely gotten those images out of my head.

  But now, as I fully crossed the doorway, I could see that a new element had been added to her office: gnomes.

  Currently two naked small and squat creatures were trying on a variety of hats Irmagard kept beneath a cluttered credenza. As I watched, they took turns pressing a baseball cap between two large batwing ears, then switching it for a bonnet and a beekeeper’s mask. Giggling, they chucked each piece into a pile of discarded headwear behind them.

  Two more were hanging from an antique brass chandelier, the crystals clinking loudly as they swung from side to side. Plaster cracked around the fixture’s base, threatening to send the gnomes and their trapeze to the floor. They didn’t seem to care, either about their imminent plunge to the trash-laden floor, or the fact that their naughty bits were flailing in the breeze for all to see.

  What in the hell was happening?

  “Counselor McIntosh?” I called, stepping in carefully.

  With the tall piles in the way, it was impossible to see the counselor’s desk upon first entry. So, avoiding the gnomes, I walked around an old copier with a kayak stacked on top of it, then slipped between two manikins with their arms upraised as if to create a tunnel for me. Both were wearing very old Supernatural Academy spirit gear and jaunty, albeit, dead-eyed smiles.

  Finally, her desk came into view. “Counselor McIntosh?”

  She blinked up at me from where she was seated at her desk. A moment before my entrance, it appeared she and Gerald had been sharing a fish sandwich. He was perched beside her on a stack of scattered files with bits of battered cod in his paws. His little black eyes blinked up at me from behind the dark gray markings around them.

  Irmagard stopped chewing in mid-bite and stood. “Charlie, you’re early.” Her eyes darted around the room as if I’d just caught her doing something illegal.

  “Yeah... the flight was on time for once and I got a car right away. Go figure. Thanks for paying for all that, by the way.”

  I blushed the bright red of a poor college student who had to accept charity at every turn. It was one thing to get my entire tuition paid for, but, since my mother was dead and my dad had “buggered off” as the British say, I literally didn’t have a penny to my name. Anything, literally anything, I had needed, Dean McIntosh had provided, with a few items from Disha. Now with the Dean gone, the task fell to Irmagard. Nearly all tasks had, as I’d been told.

  I’d offered to get a summer job, but it had been decreed, once again, that I needed supervision. Not only did I possess one of the world’s most powerful magical items in the cuffs I always wore, but I’d also made enemies with the group of subversives working to overthrow both the Academy and the entire magical government.

  I thought about how Henderson had wanted me dead and then Mink after him. Both of those men were in their graves, but a new group had arisen in their place. I was playing “Bad Guy Whack-a-mole” pretty constantly once I became a witch.

  The new breed of villains who wanted my powers was Ava Marie, AKA Tempest, AKA Ana, who tricked us into a terrible trap that caused Macgregor Underwood’s death. The worst part was that, as far as I knew, Rowan was now working with her.

  That fact alone drove a stake right through my heart. He chose to align himself with murders and thieves because Tempest had offered him what he wanted, a promise that he could have magic again. How he could fall for such blatant lies from the woman who helped orchestrate his father’s death was beyond me.

  I scolded myself as my thoughts floated away. I had spent all summer trying to forget Rowan Underwood. I’d researched spells to forget him and ways to cut our unbreakable bond, which proved mostly fruitless. The former were unpredictable and could cause brain damage so I’d opted not to try one. I’d need to woman up and force myself through mental will power to get over him. Rowan would not be my focus this year.

  I was going to kick ass and take names, starting with what I’d come here to tell the counselor. I straightened my shoulders and cleared my throat, drawing her attention back to me.

  “Counselor McIntosh, I’m here to tell you that I had all summer to learn as much as I could from your sister, Elspeth. Turkey and the library there proved invaluable. I’ve mastered unmasking spells and made myself impervious to vampire enthralling. I’ve also nearly managed to uncover how to break the bonding spell between… the one I was bonded to. I know that, with your other sister missing, things have become difficult. Elspeth has kept me in the loop. I want you to know I’m here and I’m ready to help.”

  With my speech done—I’d been rehearsing it for weeks—I nodded as if to put an exclamation point on it. This was my new role, my way to help undo what had been done. With Dean Underwood dead and Dean McIntosh missing, the Academy was in its most precarious spot yet. Elspeth had let it slip that the board of trustees wanted to replace Irmagard with someone not so “Lesser friendly”. Then they’d start systematically removing all non-human entities from the school.

  Rowan and Ava Marie had given them a great gift by their horrible actions last spring. People were pissed and wanted action taken right now.

  And, with the two most vocal advocates for the inclusion of all dead or gone, what was to stop them?

  Well, one little by-law apparently.

  The board wasn’t able to take action on anything because, without Dean McIntosh, they did not have a quorum—which was some fancy term I didn’t quite understand, but I guess meant there weren’t enough members to take an official vote on things. If Dean McIntosh turned up dead, something I could not think about too hard without bursting into ugly tears, they could replace her and take the vote. But as it stood, with her simply gone, everything was at a standstill with Irmagard still at the wheel.

  And yet, staring at her office and the naked gnome that was currently digging through her file drawer, it seemed the ship was careening out of control.

  I was here to help put it to rights.

  But, after my speech, she didn’t seem thrilled. She glanced at me and then stared up at the ceiling where more plaster was cascading down a
s the gnomes really got the chandelier swinging. Cracks angled away from the fixture, creating an awful spider web that would break apart at any moment.

  “Our new guests seem to have made themselves at home, don’t you think?” she asked.

  Frowning, I followed her gaze to the little creatures who finally broke the chandelier loose. It went crashing into a pile, a series of thuds echoing after.

  “Why are the gnomes here?” I asked quietly, waving a hand in front of my face to dissipate the plaster dust wafting through the air.

  “They are here to help,” she said without irony, standing up and brushing off her teal corduroy overalls. Behind them, she wore a t-shirt covered in sunflowers. “Gnomes are really amazing creatures, Charlie. Did you know they are the only non-wizards that can wield magic? They can draw from the source unlike vampires and werewolves and zombies and… well, you know the list.” She waved a hand dismissively.

  I shook my head. I had no experience with gnomes. We’d covered them briefly in Magical Creatures 102, but I’d not really tuned in on their abilities since that was right around the time Answorth tried to drain all my blood on the forest floor.

  “How are the gnomes supposed to help?” I asked, glancing out at them. To me, they seemed like little, ugly, unsupervised toddlers.

  Irmagard smiled at one who was dragging a stack of newspapers under a chest of drawers. “They are here to help keep order. Help me manage all the daily tasks. It’s a lot, you know, with my sister gone. She did so much. And, Underwood... I really don’t know what we would’ve done if we hadn’t found a replacement.”

  “A replacement?” This was news to me. Elspeth hadn’t mentioned a word, but then, she’d been gone a lot, off on research trips for the library, leaving me alone much of the time with her talking donkey and the piles of flying books. I’d learned a ton, but, to be honest, I’d been incredibly lonely. A donkey wasn’t exactly a great substitute for family and friends.

  “Yes, a replacement,” Irmagard said, putting a hand on my back, leading me through the piles to the door. “Let me introduce you.”