Spell Hath No Fury Read online

  “You’ll eat, and you’ll talk.”

  I would—and then I planned on paying Diana Diamond a visit. That part I would leave out of the breakfast confession, though.

  FED, CLEAN, and fortified by the righteous indignation of my family, I blew through the closet at FootSwept looking for the perfect outfit to wear when confronting an enemy. Clothes are the modern-day version of armor, and I needed to feel empowered by the choices I made with mine. Scoff if you will, I really don’t care.

  Twenty minutes later—okay, maybe more like forty-five, but I swear I’m not the high-maintenance type under normal circumstances—I was dressed, coiffed, and ready for battle. At least, the type of restrained battle that would take place between two supernatural beings when surrounded by a room full of unsuspecting humans.

  My hair hung in a high, straight ponytail, a lock of it wrapped around the base to conceal the elastic band, and my eyes glimmered from between lids lined with kohl to create a smoky effect. I was going for put together, chic, and formidable in a black lace Dolce & Gabanna fall collection pencil skirt, matching three-quarter sleeve blouse, and patent leather Louboutins. Three inch.

  Queen of Hearts occupied the corner office on the third floor of the Millennium building, a newer glass and concrete behemoth that ruined the aesthetic of Port Harbor’s old world charm. Diana Diamond had a secretary, for Hecate’s sake. How much of my business had the woman poached to require a full-time staff? I blew right past the receptionist and bearded the lion in her den.

  Diana saw me coming, the walls were made of glass, and looked at me with a disdain so palpable I wanted to slap her across the smarmy mask covering her true face. Whatever flavor of supernatural scuttled underneath her slick surface, she kept the evidence well hidden.

  We locked eyes for a moment—long enough for me to taste and test her non-human vibe. Not witch. Not Fae. Something else lurked, something familiar, but I couldn’t pin it down when all my urges were directing me toward conjuring up some wicked magic.

  “Why if it isn’t Lexi Balefire, right here in my own little office. Come to storm the castle, did you?” If I’d had any doubts before, they puffed into smoke. Diana wanted a confrontation. Needed it, if the predatory glint in her eye meant anything.

  “Take the spell off my boyfriend.”

  “And why would I do that?” All pretense fell away. I knew what she was, and Diana knew that I knew. And that’s a lot of knowing for one day. “When it’s such fun to watch you squirm.”

  The words don’t you know who I am wanted to fly out my mouth. I bit down on the phrase of entitlement and what actually popped out was, “Please.”

  Way to go, Lexi. Show her your badassedness...or not.

  Diana looked at me with self-satisfied pity in her eyes, “If you don’t have what it takes to keep your man, maybe you don’t deserve him.”

  The shot at my ability to keep a man should have enraged me, and for a moment I felt a swell of dark magic in my breast. But, underneath all the pomp and circumstance, I was still a woman and Diana’s words struck a chord, arrowed straight through to the deepest, darkest places of my heart that felt she might be right.

  And she knew it.

  “Bored now.” Diana fluttered a hand to indicate I was nothing more than a nuisance and should leave. “Don’t cross me, Balefire. You won’t win.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I gritted out from between clenched teeth and turned to stalk out of the office.

  “THIS ISN’T just about me, Flix. It’s about the future of FootSwept. I’m only one person, regardless of all my titles, and I can’t possibly run a successful business when I’ve got an endless supply of enemies plotting against me. Not to mention the fact that if I can’t figure out how to counteract her cards, I’ll lose the love of my life. Permanently. How am I supposed to play Cupid if I let my own soul mate get snatched right out from under me?”

  I rambled on while Flix picked the black olives off my slice of pizza. My feet shuffled across the shag carpeting as I paced, building up enough static electricity to send a shock up my finger each time I forgot not to touch the metal frame of Flix’s ultramodern coffee table.

  “The whole reason we started FootSwept was to satisfy the pull you felt before you got your magic and if you’ll remember correctly, to provide me with an outlet for my empathic abilities. We’ve both since grown and changed; you’ve Awakened and then been given access to a weapon that essentially makes our matchmaking business obsolete. Would it really be the end of the world if we closed up shop?”

  Flix’s face remained impassive; it was a trick I knew well. He’d ask a tough question and give me absolutely no indication of his own feelings on the subject, ensuring my answer was mine and mine alone. What he didn’t seem to understand was the fact that he’d asked the question in the first place was often enough for me to discern his opinion.

  If he wanted out, why didn't he just say so? Did he? Part of my mind wanted to linger on that thought, but the rest was centered on Kin.

  “It’s just not fair!” I wailed, choosing to avoid the discussion of business when I was more sober and less emotional. “I miss him.” Stated simply, the truth cut through me like a knife.

  “I know, Lexi. I know.” Flix pulled me close to his chest and let me snot all over his shoulder for a solid half hour before my eyes finally ran dry.

  “I’m sorry. I know how much it hurts you when I cry.”

  “Actually, I’ve been doing some exercises to help me learn how to sort of turn the volume down. Though you have ruined my new Gucci button-down, and that’s a tragedy all by itself.” He teased, coaxing me into a slightly better mood.

  Chapter Eleven

  EVERY WITCH HAS A SPECIAL place she goes to work her craft. For some, like my Aunt Mag, it’s a hut in the middle of nowhere built from stone and thatch and magic. For others, it’s a brightly-lit, herb-scented kitchen with a pantry full of nothing you’d ever find in a supermarket aisle. And for the Balefire clan, it’s a hidden room that lies on the other side of the fireplace where the flames we tend lick and sizzle and feed the magic of all witchkind.

  I am the latest in a long line of witches named for the blazing heart of the sacred Beltane fire. I am also its Keeper, a job I nearly lost when I Awakened so late to my power, the fireplace had threatened to grow cold. Dodged a bullet on that one.

  Only those with Balefire blood running through their veins are able to tame and reach into the fire, pull the iron lever without burning themselves to a crisp. Today I had neither the time nor the patience to observe the phenomenon with my usual appreciation and simply yanked the handle without ceremony.

  A click and a creak opened the door into my sanctum, and the room jerked abruptly as I crossed the threshold. Ever since Gran and Mag had come to stay, the interior had evolved into a configuration that served us equally and simultaneously. Still, a few items rearranged themselves to suit my taste, and before I could stride all the way across the pentagram-engraved casting circle, all the furniture had ceased rattling.

  And then I nearly slapped myself on the forehead, spun around and marched back to where the Balefire flickered merrily in the hearth.

  Cards were made from paper. Had the rock/paper/scissors game taught me nothing?

  Destroy the card, break the spell. Seemed logical to me.

  It was worth a shot and, after all, isn’t there some saying about how the most simple solution is often the correct one? Whatever dark magic Diana Diamond had charmed into that card surely couldn’t withstand a magical flame. I’d seen the Balefire turn balls of yarn into the ash equivalent of a dandelion fluff quicker than you can blink and it certainly felt like I was about due for an easy win.

  I held the card in my hand and with no other thought in my head besides destroy it, leaned in toward the licking flames. The Balefire twirled just out of my reach, banked low and edged further away each time I moved closer. If I didn’t know better, I’d interpret the shuddering motion it was making
as a shiver, though a cold fire is oxymoronic even in magical terms.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Salem must have slipped through the passage while I wasn’t looking because I nearly jumped out of my skin when he spoke into my ear.

  “Hecate’s petticoats, Salem, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I asked, lowering the card I still clutched between my fingers. All right, maybe I used a more colorful expletive than Hecate’s petticoats, but swearing is unladylike, at least according to Gran. I try to reserve it for the proper occasions—or when I’m really drunk and mad at the world.

  “If that’s what it takes. I could sense dark magic the second you walked through the front door, and now because you’re absolutely abysmal at keeping up with your studies, I’ve had to take a break from my afternoon nap to stop you from making a kindergarten-level mistake.”

  “Well excuuuuse me for breathing, Salem. What cataclysmic mishap have you saved me from now?” I exaggerated the eye roll because even though Salem loves to dish it out, he can’t take being mocked without turning into a petulant child.

  “You know what, go ahead and see what happens if you’re too smart for my help.” Salem stared at me in silence, licked his lips once in a supremely catlike gesture and raised one eyebrow in challenge. If this had been a less critical pursuit, I might have tried it out of sheer orneriness and ended up wasting my hope of breaking the spell on Kin in a fit of pique.

  “Fine. You are the best familiar ever. Blah blah blah. This is important, so get to the point.” I used to wonder if all witch-familiar relationships were as tumultuous as mine and Salem’s, but now that I’ve spent some time with Pyewacket and Jinx I realize that it’s just our personalities. Maybe the fact that I didn’t get my magic until nearly a decade after I was supposed to has something to do with it. Perhaps in another ten years, we’ll get along like gangbusters, but I fear we’ll behave even more like an old married couple than we already do.

  “First of all, you have some explaining to do. What is that and where did you get it? And why aren’t you asking for help from your elders? What’s the point of having three witches in this house if you’re just going to go rogue?”

  “That’s a first, second, third, and fourth of all, Salem.” I sighed and explained how I’d come across the offending item. I might have glossed over the B&E, though Salem probably would have commended me for that part considering he’d done some illegal pussyfooting through Kin’s house himself. “Now get to the point.”

  “You’re about to force dark magic into the Balefire. Don’t you remember what happened last time someone meddled with it? The coven’s reaction alone should be enough to dissuade you from making the same mistake twice. I’m sure between us we can come up with some way to isolate the type of magic used and neutralize it without any fallout.”

  “Don’t you dare get the rest of the family in on this. They’re all still flip-flopping between smothering me with love and plotting Kin’s demise. Besides; the godmothers are out setting up for some hoity-toity million-dollar sweet sixteen party, and Gran and Aunt Mag are off doing whatever it is that’s had them sneaking out of here at every opportunity." Their traveling cloaks had been getting a workout since before Thanksgiving.

  "If they find out about Diana Diamond’s plans for the love apocalypse, they’ll go into defense mode and honestly, I think they’re out of their depth here. You too, for that matter. This is god business, and that means I’ve got to handle it myself. It’s an order, Salem, and you know what that means.”

  He did know, better than anyone, but had failed to mention my authority over his actions in our witch/familiar orientation. If I give a command, Salem has to honor it, no questions asked. I’m not entirely certain what the repercussions for disobeying me are, but they must be severe, or he’d never agree.

  “Fine. But you’re doing this against my advisement.”

  “You’ve made your point. And actually, you’ve made me realize something. If Kin and I were destined for a shot by Cupid’s arrow, then I’ve got the perfect counter to any magic used against us—the Bow of Destiny itself. Add a little Balefire to the mix and how can I go wrong?”

  I couldn’t just shoot Kin now; I’d learned my lesson about taking aim when the little heart symbol wasn’t present above my target. The last thing I wanted to do was make the situation worse.

  I walked across the casting circle once more and tacked Diana’s card onto the cork board where we post spells in progress and then backed up a few feet. Power welled inside me, familiar and comforting, and called to my own inner Goddess.

  If this worked, I’d smother Kin with kisses before the sun went down and do other things with him in the dark.

  “Focus your intent, at least.” Salem chided as I twirled one through the Balefire, then set my flaming arrow, and peered through the sight at its target.

  Thoughts of Kin swirled through my consciousness: the way he would place his hand on the small of my back when we walked through a crowd; the warm, fuzzy caress of his laughter at one of my jokes; the intensity of our first kiss, and how each subsequent embrace pierced my soul and cemented our bond.

  If nothing else came from this experience, I suppose I owed Diana Diamond a vote of thanks for exposing my true feelings for Kin. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone—not just a convenient song lyric, or cliché, but a home truth I’d ignored for far too long.

  I thought about Kin—and let the arrow fly.

  A shower of sparks arced forward in slow motion, then abruptly changed course and pinged toward a bookshelf full of ancient, leather-bound first editions. Salem squeaked, and I managed to aim a protective barrier around the treasures just in time.

  It didn’t stop the arrow, though; the flaming tip bounced upward, ticked back and forth across the glass-domed ceiling above the casting circle, mercifully only making contact with the wrought iron encasement, and then fell straight down and embedded itself in the center of the pentagram.

  “For the love of tiny pickles, Lexi, you almost shot me! Now, will you call in reinforcements?”

  “Not yet.”

  Two hours later, I’d exhausted every spell-breaking method I could think of, and a few made up ones besides. The card lay in the bottom of a cauldron and mocked me. At least I thought it did, it was hard to see because of all the smoke.

  “I’m done,” I announced to Salem who had stopped arguing and was now sitting stiffly in the farthest corner of the room with his dirtiest I-told-you-so expression on.

  “Shut up,” I said before he said a word. “What happens in the Sanctum stays in the Sanctum.”

  “Fine,” was all he said, but he flashed back to cat form and presented me with a good shot of his rear as he twitched his tail out the fireplace ahead of me.

  Chapter Twelve

  “LEXI, HAVE YOU SPOKEN to Serena recently? I’ve prepared a new batch of tonic for her, but she hasn’t been by to pick it up. Would you mind running it over? Your Aunt Mag and I have some business to attend to.”

  “What kind of business?” I asked, taking care to keep my tone neutral even though suspicion had risen up inside my gut and made my stomach churn in nervous anticipation. Sneaking in and out the house at all hours, whispered conversations. I don’t like secrets—especially the kind that send my fertile imagination into frenzied flights of fancy.

  “Coven stuff. Nothing major.” The rapid-fire reassurance missed its goal by a mile, leaving me with the decision of whether or not to call out my grandmother on the fib. Think what you will, I didn’t have the stones to do it. “Everything okay?”

  “Perfectly fine. Don’t you worry your pretty head.”

  Why is it when someone tells you not to worry, that’s the first thing you do? Human nature—witch nature, not all that different in the end. If I’d had less on my mind, I might have pushed the issue harder.

  “And don’t forget the tonic, okay?”

  “Already on it. I’ll drop by on my way to work.” I hop
ed Serena was getting along all right. I’d nearly forgotten her with one thing and another. She must be freaking out now that Jett knew about the baby. Some kind of friend I turned out to be.

  I tripped up Serena’s front steps, shivered as the icy chill of her wards scanned over me. Juggling an insulated cauldron full of viscous liquid in my hands, I leaned on the bell before cracking the door open a couple of inches.

  “Serena, it’s Lexi. Can I come in?” I called out, listening for any indication she was home. If not, I’d leave the tonic in the refrigerator and be on my way.

  Muffled noises emitted from the living room, and I hollered a little louder in case Serena’s mother, Calypso, was home. We didn’t exactly get along, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend a second alone with the woman.

  “Hello, Sis.” I gasped when Jett stepped out of the shadows and prepared to drop the cauldron to use my power against him if necessary. “It’s nice of you to stop by. Serena will be happy to see you.” Not a trace of his nasty nature showed in the smile on his face.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Body snatchers? Personality spell? If that was the case, good for you, Serena, never thought you had it in you.

  This nice guy act? I didn’t buy it for one second.

  Apparently, Serena’s spine had gone missing again. And just when I’d started thinking maybe she had a lick of common sense rattling around in that head of hers.

  “Where is she?” I demanded, my voice rising to shrill tones that betrayed emotional involvement.

  “Relax, Lexi. I’m right here, and I’m fine.” Serena stepped into the foyer, both hands wrapped around her bulging belly, which had grown another inch since I’d seen her last. Was it only a couple of days ago? Was that normal?

  She looked at me expectantly, sorry for the pun, and it took a few seconds before I could form words.