Always Practice Safe Hex (Stay a Spell, #4)

by Juliette Cross

“I disagree. Jules and Ruben are both in places of high power in leadership. Ruben has connections around the globe and Jules has the ability to rally several higher-ups in the High Witch Guild to their cause. They could make this happen without our help. Also, your sister Violet is reaching out to other Seer witches to apprentice them specifically with the intent to tattoo charmed spells on werewolves across the country and even internationally to give them better control over their inner wolves.”

“Meanwhile,” he continued, ignoring my question, “there are thousands of orphan supernaturals in the human foster care program or orphanages abroad. Orphans who are suffering without the guidance and care of their own kind.”

He was right. Ruben and Jules were already on the case for the werewolf issue. Or at least, they were in the planning phase. And Violet was taking her own steps to help them.

“Okay,” I finally said. “I agree. My vote is for the children.”

I hated that he’d won the argument, but come on, these were little kids we were talking about. I’d been fortunate enough to grow up in a whole and loving household. Every child deserved the same.

The werewolf, Nico, was onstage and had just dedicated a song to his woman, Violet—the one we’d helped him save from the Blood Moon pack a few weeks ago but who didn’t need saving at all.

I made it my business to know all supernaturals in our territory and their human friends who were aware of our existence. For grims, information was everything.

My newest information about Richard Davis had me clenching my jaw. I hated for a prick like him to have that kind of power. I’d told myself that I came tonight to inform Lavinia. To warn her about him outside the workplace. But in truth, I just needed to see her, to drink in the luscious dark beauty of her a little while longer.

Having been tossed to and from four foster homes until one fateful night had forced my Uncle Silas to do the responsible thing and take me in, I had developed an ingrained paranoia and distrust of most people.

The one thing he taught me, and taught me well, was that using strength and fear to dominate doesn’t make you more powerful. It makes you a tyrant. I remembered that later when I came into my own power.

Regardless of my annoying fascination, I wouldn’t allow an oppressor like Richard to go unchecked and catch her off guard. I knew what that felt like, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“I thought you’d be glad to come with me. Get your Clara fix for the night.”

Like I didn’t know who she was, when she was born, who her parents were, her designation and level of magical powers, where she lived, where she worked, and what her favorite pastry was from the bakery, Queen of Tarts, across the street. I knew all of that except the last from my own shallow dive into the Savoie sisters. The tidbit about her favorite pastry was from my silent and staring cousin seated across from me.

Goddamn. Henry wasn’t lying. Her aura was a wash of drugging serenity.

Her magic was the perfect balance to ours; her light wanted to temper our darkness. We were in fact made of opposite mettle and magic. Now I understood Henry’s obsession, though I also knew it was more than her Aura magic he was obsessed with.

Her sea-blue eyes rounded. “You can see auras?” she asked excitedly. “Not in color like you can. But we grims can feel them.” I nodded to Henry.

“Of course, I really don’t know anything about grims. Except that you’re all rather handsome in an unconventional way.”

“You’re all quite fair-skinned, but I’m sure you knew that already. But it isn’t that. Your bone structure is rather unusual.” “Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” I lied. “Oh, yes. You all are so sharp-edged.”

It was the blood of our Varangian ancestry that gave us our sharp-edged bone structure as she called it. The Eastern Romans called them Varangians, the Vikings descending out of what was now Norway in the ninth century. It was one of these ancestors who settled in the medieval state of Kievan Rus’—a territory which was now Ukraine and part of Russia—and who became a Byzantine Varangian Guard. There, he met our ancestral foremother. When he took her by force as his wife, she had no idea she would be the first mother of a grim reaper.

Clara’s cheeks flushed bright pink after admitting she just wanted to come over to see this fool of a grim who was acting like she had the plague.

As soon as she walked away, Henry collapsed forward, sliding both hands into his hair, he lowered his head, pressing his forehead to the table. Then he banged it lightly three times.

“Wow. You’ve got serious game,” I observed. “I mean, between the frowning and growling and making her feel like a leper when I suggested you watch the movie together, she’s practically in love with you.” “I hate you.” “No, you hate yourself. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Without looking back at me, he rumbled low, “She makes it all better.”

“Isn’t that reason enough to go for her?” I suggested encouragingly. “Maybe she could help you.”

“Just look at her.” Henry started flicking his Zippo lighter again. “She’s a goddamn angel. Why would she want to be a part of my fucked-up mess?”

“I needed to talk to you away from GMC.” I lifted the glass to my lips. She watched me sip my drink. “I think you just wanted an excuse to come and see me.” “There’s a lot worth seeing.”

I liked this game. Where she tried to figure out if I was lying to her or not. I always told her the truth. Except that one time. But it was necessary. I lied to her when I accused her of using her Influencer magic to warp the judges at the semi-finals. That was a ruse to distract her from the fact that I wanted to tear her clothes off and fuck her on the lobby floor. Still did, actually.

Fucking hell. What couldn’t she do for me?

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m fairly positive he”—how to say this delicately without frightening her— “he intends this to go beyond flirting with you.” Her brow pinched, and I immediately wanted to make that look go away. “Has he said something to you?” “No.” I tapped my index finger on the table. “He wouldn’t dare say a word to me.” Unless coerced. Which I would when I had the chance.

“Yeah, after the way you dressed him down today, I guess not.” She glanced over at one of her tables. “Look, Gareth. I don’t know what this is all about, but Richard is a liaison for the judge panel as well as a judge himself on the overall contest. If you’re implying that I’d use his attraction to me to try and gain points, I—” “No! That’s not what I meant at all,” I admitted. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

A tendril of fury swept through my blood, stirring the darkness always waiting there, wanting to be used. It wasn’t for her. It was for Richard fucking Davis.

“He’s dangerous, Lavinia. He’s an Enforcer, and he’s got an evil streak a fucking mile long.”

Enforcers were a rare designation for witches and warlocks. The most powerful of their kind. But not the most powerful supernatural of all.

“Grims always know where true evil lies. Because it lives inside of us. It’s in our blood.”

“We may be rivals, Lavinia. But it doesn’t make me want to fuck your brains out any less.”

Then I straightened and got the hell out of there before I did something stupid. Like drag her home and tie her to my bed.

Clara picked up the copy of Lisa Kleypas’s Marrying Winterborne

He wasn’t the type of guy to open himself up. And definitely not to the woman he seemed to consider his enemy.

“You’re good with emotions,” I said as I snapped a few shots. “Tell me, can someone really desire their enemy? Enough to want to have sex with them?” “Of course,” said Clara. “The Viscount Who Loved Me.” “Excuse me?” I moved the book to another position and took a few more shots at different angles. “That was our book last month. Anthony and Kate hated each other. Still, they wanted to tear each other’s clothes off every time they were in the same room together. Sometimes, animosity and anger is the perfect aphrodisiac.”

“Hatred and hostility are strong emotions,” she continued matter-of-factly. “They get your heart rate up, heat the blood, make you sweat, drawing your focus solely to the one giving you these emotions. It’s very similar to desire. So, wanting to have sex with Gareth is perfectly normal.”

“You’ve been angry at him from the first time you met him in this contest. You won’t shut up about how much you loathe Gareth Blackwater.” Her grin returned. “He also happens to be extremely smart, which I know is a big turn-on for you. And now that I’ve met him, I know that he’s alarmingly attractive.”

Struck with a horrifying thought, I wondered if I was the kind of person who needed to be constantly thrilled and entertained to be attracted to someone.

“I’m not saying you’re a sapiosexual,” added Clara, picking up her notebook and pen. “A what?” “Someone who’s sexually attracted to intelligent people, meaning their brilliance is the most important trait to draw your interest.” She doodled something in the top margin of her notebook. “I mean, you might be, but I think it’s more that you’re a high-energy Leo and a powerful Influencer. You’re driven by excitement, the thrill of the hunt. Which is why your relationships usually die once you’ve caught them.”

“I know all of my sisters’ psychological and sexual preferences as well as their emotional and spiritual needs. It’s part of what I do.”

The way Clara was so casual when she talked about fucking was hilarious to me. She still wore that endearing, sweet-as-pie expression, but she was totally serious.

Clara was the most intuitive of all my sisters. Even more than Violet who was the Seer. Somehow, Clara’s gift of being an Aura and tapping into emotions made her better at reading human beings than anyone.

“Oh! So my blog doesn’t have a big following right now, but I do have this one blogger, RavenOne, who comments on every single blog. Always something interesting and intellectual. We’ve chatted not just about romance but about history and travel and even baking. A real reader, not just a random nice-post commenter, you know?”

Everyone thought Clara was this sweet and innocent little thing, but underneath all the soft prettiness was a wildcat.

“If that were the case, then you’d be in a serious relationship by now. Not hightailing it after a couple months with every partner you’ve had.”

Was she right? Holy fuck, was I shallow? “I’m not saying you’re shallow or there’s something wrong with you.” “I did not telepath my thoughts to you.” Did I? “It doesn’t matter.” She placed a saucer carefully on the drying rack. “I know what you’re thinking anyway.” “What you’re doing is making me wonder about my entire two decades of adult-ish dating.”