45 FRANCOIS
“Non, Alexis. That is entirely illogical.”
Leaning my forehead against the cold glass of the trailer’s kitchen window, I pinch the bridge of my nose. In my right hand, the satellite phone feels exceptionally annoying. How am I to master this spell purely via conversation?
Through the speaker, Professor Alexis Feniks’ voice carries a note of dry amusement, which I do not care for. “It is perfectly logical, Francois. It surprises me that you’re having such difficulties. Perhaps if you’d paid more attention…”
“I spent precisely one term at Validus Vale. If the WMO, who you are now part of, enabled young witches to learn how to ward before attending an academy, then you could mock me.” All I want is the ability to place sturdy wards around our current domain.
Yes, Taliesin runs the perimeter several times a day, but we need 24/7 security.
“And maybe if you were a better teacher, then your students wouldn’t be so lacking.”
A heavy, exasperated sigh sounds from the other end. “Changing curriculum law is low on the list of priorities. I’m already embroiled in the mess that is Quo Reformare—would you rather I switch to school topics instead?”
Ugh.
Connard.
“At least you’ve somewhat mastered the basic spell cast. Keep practicing, but don’t expect overnight success.”
Arrogant bastard.
I hang up without another word. Fine. I’ll do this myself.
Hopefully.
The ward I have managed to create thus far is weak, and confined only to the walls of the double-wide. But as the only person with any actual arcane magic training, magical security falls to me.
It is deeply, intensely frustrating. As a basilisk, my power is absolute. If I desire a wall to dissolve into ash, then I can make it a reality in seconds. But the delicate, tedious art of traditional spellcasting? It requires years of academic discipline.
I can protect Aurora with my teeth and my coils, yes. But I cannot shield her from silent intruders.
“Aha! Double trouble, chicken dinner!” London yells, making me shudder. “The jack of spades takes the pie, BF! Down down down you go into the old gutter!”
I am told they are playing a game called Knockout Whist.
I declined the invitation to join in, seeing as the last time London attempted to explain rules to a game, it quickly became clear he was ad-libbing.
“What? That’s bullshit. I’m not out!”
“Dear, Fuckwad, don’t be a sore loser. I thought you’d be a mighty bruiser!”
Aurora giggles, little Sky pressed next to her carefully sorting her hand. London slams another crumpled playing card onto the unstable table.
Unstable table—I’m even beginning to sound like the faun now. We are all definitely spending too much time together.
Is it too much though?
If Cosmo secures a pardon for Aurora, London and Taliesin, what will happen then?
Will I return to the towers of Validus Vale to finish my education? Will Aurora come with me? The idea of having her all to myself in the Elite luxury of the academy should sound like my ultimate desire.
But now?
I glance at London, who is currently trying to balance a playing card on his nose to amuse Sky.
And think of the wolf, who is out running his third perimeter patrol of the day to ensure our safety.
Even Basil, who London insists is called Fuckwad.
Leaving them behind feels entirely wrong. Yes, they are unrefined, chaotic, and exhausting, but, against my better judgement, I’ve come to admit they are family.
And I am better off with them.
Alors.
I truly do not recognize myself.
The front door squeaks open, and Taliesin steps inside, his eyes instantly locking onto Aurora to verify her safety before he even takes a breath.
I approve of that.
“Nothing to see,” he grunts, pulling up a chair next to her.
“Brilliant! Then you’re just in time for round two, Burt!” London cheers, dealing out the cards with lightning speed. For ten minutes, the tiny trailer is filled with shouts, the slap of paper, Basil’s grumbled insults and Aurora’s and Sky’s giggles.
It fills me in a way that I have no frame of reference to quantify.
Then, in a single, microscopic heartbeat, the warmth in the room is completely snuffed out.
London freezes mid-laugh, his posture turning rigid.
Beside him, Taliesin’s entire body goes taut, the playing cards slipping from his fingers to scatter across the table. His nostrils flare, putting me on instant alert. My snake hasn’t picked up on anything yet, but I don’t have their hearing.
“What?” I demand.
“Vehicle,” Taliesin says, getting to his feet and turning off the overhead light. “Sky, Basil, Rory, get into the back bedroom.”
London is already moving to open the door, half-yelling and half-bleating a war cry. “They’ll never take my freedom!” He shifts and springs away faster than I’ve ever seen him move.
Basil, being the contrary little bastard he is, picks up his favorite tire iron, then stands outside the bedroom as Aurora hustles a terrified looking Sky inside. Fine. He can be the last line of defense.
“Plan?” I ask Taliesin, shocking myself that I’m deferring to him.
“Presume the worst. Take them out before they’re anywhere near Rory and the kids. Unless it’s obvious they’re not a threat.”
Merde. I sprint out into the gray pasture, running through the skeletal apple trees behind Taliesin, until he shifts and takes off in wolf-form.
Ahead I can hear the growl of an engine. Headlights cut through the late afternoon gloom. Rounding a corner, I see it. A sleek, high-end, heavily armored black Elite SUV.
It’s skidding to a stop as London bars the way, a metal fence post in his muscled goat-arms.
He looks completely unhinged. “Come on then, you wankers!” he shrieks, rushing forward. “Try it, I dare you!” He leaps onto the hood of the SUV, then swings, the iron smashing into the windshield.
The glass spiderwebs, but doesn’t break. Again, he swings, and again. Taliesin is growling and snapping, looking equally wild.
But I just stop.
There is something about the aura coming from inside the vehicle. And even though I can’t see through the tinted windows, everything clicks into place.
“LONDON! STAND DOWN!”
But the faun is too far gone.
Fine. He asked for it. I launch myself at the goat, narrowly missing getting swiped by the fence post, then grab his face. “STOP.”
My hypnosis doesn’t take. I can feel it sliding off him. But instead, strangely, it is my word that gets through—like the maniac actually listens to me.
“Shane?” He’s shaking with adrenaline.
“Friend, not foe,” I say calmly, still holding his cheeks. “It’s safe.”
I’m aware of Taliesin pausing his frenzied growls, I turn to him. “Safe.”
London slides off the hood and onto the muddy track, trembling and pale, while the wolf shifts back to his human form.
In the moment of silence, the SUV door opens and a suave, slightly annoyed looking man slides out. “For fucks sake,” he snarks. “That’s quite the welcoming committee, de Vaux.”
I shrug. “C’est la vie.”
But when we meet eyes, I can’t stifle a grin.
“Welcome to my new normal, Cosmo.”