Griff
Well, that test wasn’t so bad, mused as he turned in a stapled stack of papers. The classroom before him was hushed, most students still taking their exams. A few looked like they had completely given up. In fact, swore there was a girl with pigtails openly sobbing as she started on the multiple-choice section.
His phone vibrated as he reached the classroom door and stepped into the hallway.
“Old Mother Madge!” exclaimed as he answered the call. “Great to hear from you.”
“Good day, in,” said the familiar voice on the other line. “I just wanted to let you know we’ve received your order in the shop.”
It took him a few moments to process her words and what they meant. “Wow, that was fast. Didn’t know they had Prime two-day shipping on enchantment ingredients.”
“Ah, yes, child,” chuckled Old Mother Madge. “Now that we have the ingredients, the spell will be simple. As my mother taught me, I will show you.”
“So, um, about this thing,” moved the phone from one ear to the other, cradling it on his shoulder as he looked down the hallway to make sure no one was around. “This will do what Odessa did to Darcy, right? It’ll, um, unlist my number from the magic phone book, so to speak?”
“Correct. No supernatural creature—neither vampire or werewolf—will be able to sense your powers.”
’s mind wandered back to the first time that he met Uriah and Pruitt. Though their relationship had changed and their feelings had deepened, he distinctly remembered that they were both drawn to his magical scent like a magnet. Similarly, though, that magnetism had attracted much worse—a horde of bloodthirsty vampires, in particular. Will this change what Uriah and Pruitt feel for me? Am I going to lose them?
“? Are you still there?” came the voice on the other end of the call. “I don’t mean to rush you, but my soap operas start any minute now.”
“I’m sorry, Old Mother Madge,” ’s voice cracked. “It’s just?—”
“You’re worried this will change the connection you have with those closest to you, aren’t you?”
“ Huh? No way,” lied, pacing nervously back and forth in front of his classroom. “Okay, fine, yes. That’s without a doubt my biggest concern.”
As passed several nearby bulletin boards, the flyers, papers, and posters attached to them flittered as though a mounting breeze blew through the halls. Odd, he thought to himself, but it was the last thing on his mind.
“I see. If this already eventful academic year has taught you anything, then you also know that delaying the enchantment may very well put you and everyone you care for in harm’s way, hm?”
“I-I do,” sighed , a reluctant look on his face. He stopped pacing now, the sound of papers flapping in the wind catching his attention.
“The choice is yours alone to make, ,” said Old Mother Madge. “As are the consequences.”
Unbeknownst to , the magical breeze was intensifying. Had his emotions not been in such a flux, he might have realized that the power was radiating from his own body.
“Look,” began . “Let me t-talk to them first.”
“There is one last thing that’s needed before the enchantment is complete, in.”
“What’s that?”
“Did Odessa ever mention the location of your family grimoire?”
“You know, between trying to kill me and everyone I know, I think she actually forgot to tell me where she left it.”
“Each family—and every one of the Original Witches—had their own; some passed down through the generations and others lost to time,” said the elder witch. “Yours may well have been buried with Odessa underneath Mystic Hollow. To make sure the cloaking spell works correctly, it’d be best to have that book. The incantation necessary is inside it.”
“Damn,” cursed as he bit his lip. A family grimoire? He racked his memory for any recollection of it. “She didn’t say a thing about it, but clearly we weren’t on the best of terms. Let me try to get back to you as soon as I can.”
“in? There’s one more thing.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. I completely forgot. You can charge all the supplies to my tab. I really appreciate it, Old Mother Madge.” By now, it was near impossible for to ignore the unusual gusts whistling down the hallway.
“Oh, that’s already been done, dearie, but that’s not what I was going to say,” began Old Mother Madge. “Have you been having any dreams, in? Prophetic dreams, in particular?”
It was almost as though could feel the blood leave his face. His stomach dropped, and the winds around him came to a full, jarring halt. He swallowed hard before responding. “Um, y-y-you know, I’m not sure.”
“Write what you remember down, in, and let your dreams guide your intuition,” heeded Old Mother Madge. “Foresight and premonition are common strengths for witches that come from such great power. I’ve been meaning to ask you about how yours were manifesting.”
The tone in the elder witch’s voice was calm, but serious and direct. felt as if Old Mother Madge already had an idea what he was dreaming about. That’s how she’s always been. One step ahead, he thought to himself. “Yes, ma’am,” nodded, his mind now distant. “Thank you.”
“As mentioned previously, my magic consulting services are billed by the minute, and you’ll find that invoice waiting for you when you next stop in, okay, dearie?”
Although that wasn’t what expected to hear, he was too distracted to do anything but agree. “Uh, of course, Old Mother Madge. Thank you again. I know I said I’d stop by this weekend, but it might have to wait until Sunday or Monday.”
He could hear Old Mother Madge sigh. “That was a joke, in. My time and advice is a courtesy to you now. Think of me as, oh, a magical guide. Stay safe this weekend. Bye bye now.”
“Whoa, what happened out here, a hurricane?” tucked his phone away just in time to see the girl who had been crying through the exam. She stood in front of the classroom doors he had exited just minutes ago—face puffy, red and swollen—and her accusatory glare centered right on him.
Previously distracted by the mental gymnastics required for his phone call, took in his surroundings. The walls and pushpin cork boards along the entire hallway—once adorned in hundreds of announcements, posters, and brochures—were barren. Standing in the only empty spot on the floor, he was surrounded by a field of paper litter.
His frazzled classmate pushed past him, pulling out a tissue and blowing her nose as she disappeared. , too, made a break for it—heading straight for the nearest exit.
“Aced it, I take it?”
didn’t expect to see Pruitt waiting for him outside. Even more surprising, his werewolf familiar held out a single red rose.
“Whoa, look at you,” said with a smile, Pruitt’s presence shaking away his post-test stress. “And yes, I believe I did!”
Pruitt seemed suddenly bashful as he held out the flower. “Um, I thought of you and your necklace, and I knew you mentioned you liked these.”
Leaning forward, took a whiff of the flower before placing a hand over the stem. He reminded himself to stay in the moment. “You’re sweet. Thank you.”
“I so badly want to kiss you right now,” Pruitt said, his voice lower now as ’s classmates trickled out of the double doors before them.
“Well, that might be one way to detract from all the other rumors circulating,” said with a wink. He leaned forward as though he might convince Pruitt to give in, feeling selfishly desperate for validation of their relationship after his phone call. Then he stopped. “Don’t worry about it.”
Pruitt found ’s free hand and squeezed it before dropping his arms to his sides. “I think that rally is about to start if you want to check it out before we meet up with Riah.”
“As the self-appointed leader of The Mystic Mischief—a name given to us by my dearly departed great-great-grand-witch bitch—I say we check it out. You know, get a little intel on current events,” replied as the two strolled. “Plus, we should most definitely place bets on how long this university president lasts.”