Chapter 9- Luther
(THEN)
THE SEAT that Taz Devries typically occupies is noticeably absent this Saturday. Typical―he plays hooky two weeks before the end of our sorcery protection school career.
Professor Rodante wipes the chalk from her hands.
“Graduation is right around the corner. For those of you wishing to be field agents, next fall you’ll be placed into our internships.
You’ll hone your skills for a few more years.
In no time at all, you’ll be full-fledged agents, ready to protect the magical world with all the skills you’ve learned.
And I’m so proud of you all.” She claps her hands, and I exchange a grateful smile with Necia sitting next to me.
“Unfortunately, I have to let you all know a bit of bad news. Mr. Devries won’t be with us going forward. He is fine, but he has decided to no longer be part of the Union.” My blood runs cold at the professor’s words. There’s no way I heard that right.
“But to end today’s session on a high note, I’d like to congratulate our highest in class. Everyone, give a round of applause to Luther Westbrook.”
Everyone applauds, and Necia taps my shoulder. All eyes are on me, and I give a small smile. I should be thrilled that I got the highest marks after four years, but instead, I’m numb and frozen. Mentally, I’m far away.
Because what did the professor mean when she said that Taz left the Union?
After class, I approach our teacher. “Professor, may I ask a question?”
“Certainly, but make it quick, I have hot date with a roll of sushi.” She files her paper into her leather knapsack and hoists it on her shoulder.
“Um, what happened to Devries?”
“I’m afraid that’s confidential.” She briskly exits the lecture hall, and I power-walk to keep up. “I’m not even sure. I got a parchment from higher-ups stating that he has formally resigned. Such a shame. He was so good at breaking hexes.”
More questions buzz around my brain. “But…but why?”
“Again, I do not know.” She smiles and gives me a small salute. “But look at the bright side: you’re first in class now! I didn’t expect anything less from the son of a member of the High Council. Ta ta for now, Mr. Westbrook!” She titters and walks out the double doors.
After taking a deep breath, I dash to the nearby men’s washroom. My heart threatens to fly out of my throat, so I keel over at a toilet. I retch, but nothing comes out. I’ve never had this visceral reaction to seemingly good news before.
I ought to be thrilled, but only one thought buzzes through my brain: how could Taz leave me?
(Now)
Taz’s blond hair nearly shines as he sits alone in the cafeteria.
He’s finishing his lunch, so it’s the perfect time for me to approach him.
We haven’t chatted since our little forced-proximity moment in Quebec, not that I know how to contact him.
He lives in Cosmo, though. Maybe we could hang out and have drinks…
Shoving away that tantalizing thought, I briskly make my way to his table and sit down across from him. His look of surprise only lasts a moment before he gives me that signature grin.
“Agent Westbrook.”
“Taz.” Saying his first name still feels foreign, and I roll my neck in discomfort. “How…how’s lunch?”
He quirks an eyebrow and takes one last chopstick pull of ramen. “Delicious.”
“Great.” I scratch the back of my neck and try not to focus on him dabbing his lips with a napkin.
He fixes a curious expression on me and taps the table. “Can I help you?”
“Um, yeah. There’s more cult activity detected, this time in Louisiana. You’re the best hex breaker I know, and you’ve been with us every step of the way. Thought I’d ask you to come on the mission, make it a four-person job again.”
His neutral expression has me feeling extra exposed. “You could have sent a parchment to me. Why visit me during lunch?”
I loosen my collar and avoid his perceptive gaze. “I, um…wasn’t sure if you were in the Union or back home in Cosmo.”
He sits back and shoots me a smirk. Taz is no simpleton, so he can tell it’s torturous for me to even allude to the fact that I wanted to see him, personally.
Everything feels different after last week.
I might actually want him on my team―in every sense of the word―and I don’t know what to make of it.
“Alright, I’ll join you.” I smile in relief, but he leans forward and says, “But first, you gotta give me your phone.”
“Huh?”
“That way you can text me when we’re both at home. For work purposes, of course.”
“Right.” My heart hammers in my chest again as I pull up my contacts and allow Taz to plug in his number.
A sinister voice in my head whispers, “Now you can text him any naughty pictures you’d like…” Shut up, voice.
He hands me back my phone and promptly gets up to put away his tray. I scroll to find the “Hey, it’s Taz” text and read the name he put himself under.
When he returns, I fix him a sour look. “‘Hexiest Man Alive?’ Seriously, Devries?”
He giggles and puts his hands in his pockets. “I find it to be appropriate. After all, who could resist me?”
Pocketing my phone, I bite back the smile that threatens to override my frown. “Save that shit for your many girlfriends.”
He shakes his head. “No girlfriends. I also only date men. How very presumptuous. That’s not very ‘queer ally’ of you.”
I nearly choke on air. After looking away, I mutter. “I don’t assume anything.” When I look back at his blue eyes, I add, “And I’m more than an ally. I’m gay, too, remember?”
Taz’s grin falters for just a moment, giving me a confidence boost. Is it possible this flirty conversation is affecting him, too?
There’s no time to dwell on that with Taz walking backward out of the cafeteria. “Right. Well, hop to it, Lulu. We’ve got bad guys to apprehend.”
With a frown, I ball up my fists as I follow him. Growing up, I loathed that nickname. This time, however, it fills me with an unfamiliar sense of warmth. Taz keeps rewriting the rules of our rivals-slash-coworker dynamic, but I don’t think I mind anymore.
“Another church?” Necia asks as I park the rental car. It’s dark out here in the Louisiana forest. While the swampland is several yards away, it’s so humid, we might as well be walking through a river.
“Organized religion is their MO,” Max says. “Gather people, steal their funds, claim sacrifices, and power up dark magic. Mega churches are perfect for it.”
“Even worn-down ones like this,” I murmur. The massive building is one story, but with the overgrowth and inconsistent paint job, it’s clearly seen better days.
“This place is so gross, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s only used for the cult,” Necia says.
“It’s better than the barn, I suppose,” Taz says. He shivers as we make it to the front door. “Still gives me the creeps.”
“Welcome to being an honorary agent of SPELL.” Necia shoots him a facetious grin.
“Speaking of which, here.” I hand Taz a tiny earpiece. If I’m not mistaken, he takes his time holding my palm, grinning at me all the while. I try to ignore the sparks flowing between us and bite back a smile. Even in the middle of a mission, I can’t deny how much I want to kiss Taz Devries.
That thought would have been horrifying two months ago, but nowadays, it’s a reality I’m beginning to reconcile. Holding his hand back in Montreal, we both hesitated to let go. I wonder if he wants me, too…
I clear my throat. “Stay sharp and stay connected,” I say, pointing at my earpiece.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” he whispers before donning his own piece. I swear he winks at me, but I could just be imagining what I want to see.
When I walk through the door, my eyes squint, getting used to the darkness. It’s silent, and there are no lights on or candles lit.
“No one’s here,” Max announces a few yards ahead of us. We shine our flashlights, and everything seems in place. It’s a shabby-looking church, with worn-down pews and disheveled books.
“Intel said dark magic activity was detected here earlier today,” Necia says.
“Last time they were by the altar, but this one looks abandoned,” Max says. Indeed, the front has a dusty table, but no candles, chairs, or religious paintings.
“This is a megachurch. There ought to be hallways of rooms hiding who-knows-what,” I say.
“Do you feel that?” We turn to Taz to see his fingers glowing purple. I ought to chastise him for using a detection spell out in the open, but we’re alone in this disheveled church.
“Yeah, I get it now,” Necia adds, waving her palm in front of her. “Some type of dark magic.”
“It feels like an Other Side rift,” Taz says.
“Not possible. We would have detected a dimensional rift if there was one here,” I say.
“Nothing’s impossible nowadays,” Taz murmurs.
“Maybe another possession,” Necia says. She and Max approach the right wing while Taz and I move to the left. “Should we split up?”
“Alright. We’ll explore this side of the church, then hit the perimeter,” I say.
“Copy,” Max replies, and the others disappear from my sight.
Once again, Taz and I are walking towards potential imminent danger. Still, being next to him in the dark is thrilling…
Focus. We’re on a mission, and the others are on the earpiece, listening to our every move.
“See anything on your end?” Necia asks in my ear.
“No. Just old paintings,” Taz replies. “Not even a raccoon.”
We continue walking for another minute, shining our flashlights on every surface. The quiet is almost worse than if a monster were howling at us. Why couldn’t this cult make more noise?
My sad prayers are answered when Max says over the earpiece, “I…I just felt a huge surge of dark magic!”
“You did?” I ask.
“I got visual,” Necia adds. “Freeze! We’re with the feds, put your hands up.”
I nod at Taz, wordlessly telling him to double back. We need to get to the others to back them up.
Before we can run, however, we’re frozen at the sight before us; we’re shining our flashlights on an old woman in a pink cardigan.
“Ah!” I yelp, but she doesn’t move, choosing to stare at both of us.