Witch's Brew - Spellspinners 1 (Spellspinners of Melas County) (11 page)

Logan leaned forward, breaking his grasp on my hand. He turned his body toward me as if protecting me from his friend.

Orchid hissed under her breath as she reacted to their energy. I felt her heart speed up as her antsy foot tapped the wooden planks.

“What are you doing down here?” she asked them, in a tone that was less than civil.

Logan shot me a nervous look.

“Free country,” his friend said, meeting Orchid’s tone.

“Not necessarily a free country when you’re banished to the outskirts of town, now is it?”

The energy shifted from lighthearted to stormy in a matter of seconds.

This was her first encounter with the warlocks. Our mixed energy was like gas trickling toward an open flame. It would likely lead to a conflict in broad daylight if I wasn’t extremely careful.

“Orchid, it’s cool,” I said. “We aren’t responsible for governing over them. Broken rules or not.”

A curious smile twitched at one side of Logan’s mouth. He was glad I was sticking up for him.

Orchid wasn’t. She narrowed her eyes at me. “But the Congression is. And we’re entitled to report anything unusual to our Mistress. So...” She shrugged.

“Orchid, come on. Don’t make a scene.”

Tourists were glancing our way. Fights happened down here a lot, but not usually between girls and boys.

“That warlock scum stole your amulet,” she hissed. She was so not going along with my plan.

She palmed Logan’s chest hard. “Give it back to her. Now.”

Chance stepped between Logan and Orchid. Their chests practically grazing each other. I could hear their breathing, out of sync, the energy, the tension was thick as they struggled for dominance.

“Logan.” He knew what I meant. I needed him to get his friend to back off Orchid, so I could chill her out. He nodded and gripped his friend’s shoulder with his hand, soothing but firm.

“It’s cool, dude.”

“Is it? Because my girl here says he ripped off her stone. Pretended to save her and then switched it. Where I come from that isn’t cool. So give it back or we throw down right here. This is human territory, and therefore our jurisdiction.”

Logan might be able to restrain Chance, but I could not rope in Orchid.

So I sucked in a breath and ran a spell in my head.

When I opened my eyes, Orchid was batting her lashes, leaning into Chance like we were all friends from Melas High—as if we weren’t breaking major coven law by approaching two warlocks in public.

Like she hadn’t wanted to kill him thirty seconds ago.

“What are you boys up to today?” Orchid asked, all flirty, her hip jutting out to the side as she twisted a black bead on her bodice.

Chance looked from Logan, to me, back to Orchid, confused.

A slow smile formed on Logan’s face. He knew what I’d done.

Love Potion #9 spell.

I grinned back, sheepish. Orchid would kill me when she found out, but at least we avoided something worse.

Orchid’s fingers flitted up, and landed on Chance’s smooth chest, “My friend Lily here decided it would be fun to spend the day on the Boardwalk and dragged me along. Looking for a summer job if things don’t go well next week.” She giggled. Orchid never giggled. “What about you guys? Picking up applications at the cotton candy stand?” Her eyes rolled over Chance like his deluxe bod were custom made, just for her.

And he was
loving
it.

“I had my heart set on Hot Dog on a Stick. Much more my speed,” he said, stepping closer to her.

Logan looked at me and shrugged, a grin playing on his lips.

He hadn’t put a hex on his friend; Chance was rolling with Orchid all on his own.

Oh boy.

“Or the pretzel place,” Orchid said. “I prefer salty to sweet.” When she ran her tongue over her star-shaped lip ring, it was apparent from Chance’s expression that he was, at minimum, mesmerized—at maximum, already enraptured.

I stepped in the middle of their almost savage physical admiration party before they devoured each other alive.

“How about y’all keep us company on the Gravitron?”

“Sure,” Chance said, without a contemplative beat.

“Our treat. Lily here made us buy DAY passes. Unlimited rides. Oh joy of joy!”

Logan’s eyes were on me, pressing into my skin.

“I like amusement parks,” I said, unapologetic.

“Another thing we have in common,” he said.

“Really? I didn’t take you for an amusement park sort.”

He glanced around at the Boardwalk. The humans, the noise, the smells.

He shrugged happily.

For the moment, Orchid and Chance were occupied and non-threateningly charmed by the other.

If I could get him into the Gravitron, maybe with the spinning and the darkness, I could steal my stone back, and then, when Camellia and Iris found out that I had indeed met with Logan before their orders to do so, I’d have a legit reason why.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“Have you ever had a butterscotch milkshake?” Logan asked as we walked along behind Orchid and Chance, who were literally all over each other and practically making out.

I cringed with guilt. But it looked like they were having fun. And I did have a task to do. Obviously, I would intervene if things got really out of hand.

“A butterscotch milkshake. Have you had one?”

I wrinkled my nose searching for a double meaning. “Not that I recall. No.”

It was one of those situations wherein you just know how the events are going to unfold before they begin to unfold. Logan and I immediately stepped into each other’s orbit as if we were a planet and a moon with no other choice.

“You’d think you’d remember something like a butterscotch malt.”

I could tell he was trying to talk to me about something else, something important—but he didn’t know how to bring it up. A group of moms pushing strollers came too tight to my left and I had no choice but to move into him. Our arms were swinging together like two pendulums in sync. When my fingers accidentally grazed his, I felt his whole body—all tense energy—snap like a rubber band. Logan quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaving me offended and nonsensically disappointed that he wasn’t as enticed by me as Chance was by Orchid.

I stepped out of his orbit.
I don’t like you, either.

“Untrue,” he said aloud with an eyebrow raised.

He was Reading me again.

“Well, I wish it were true.”

“No, you don’t. Remember, Lily”—he leaned into me—“I can Hear your every thought. Even when you try to block me.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes. I can.”

“No. Otherwise you’d know I’m not allowed to be talking to you.”

“Of course you aren’t allowed to talk to me. That’s Spellspinner doctrine.” He met my eyes but his looked sad when he said it. “Everyone knows that.”

With some difficulty, I respun the spell that guarded my thoughts. Then I said, “But there’s some other reason. More specific to you and me.”

“Which is?” He stopped walking and stared intently. Magnetizing.

“I thought you said you could Hear my every thought?”

His eyes narrowed. “I thought I could.”

“Why’d you steal my amulet, Logan?”

The spell had obviously worked, because he was looking at me curiously, not knowingly. Giving up, he tugged on a chunk of hair and looked out toward the sea. “It looked so much like mine.”

I bit my lip. “Yours?”

“Yes. Which was given to me by my real parents.”

That stopped me. “Your real parents?”

“Yes, and I don’t know who they are. Jacob, the headmaster at the academy, raised me. My amulet’s the only clue I have to them.”

“So he’s not your father?”

“He’s my legal guardian, not my biological father.”

“Oh, wow.” The prophecy had mentioned the Roghnaithe would possess the magic of both light and darkness. If Jacob wasn’t his father, was another warlock? I needed to ask Iris and Camellia ASAP.

“How are you doing that?”

“What?”

“Blocking me like that?”

“I’m not going to tell you!”

But he looked so sad, suddenly I was the one feeling bad. What had Iris warned me about? Manipulative qualities. Bingo.

“Look, I’m sorry I took it. I’ll give it back after I find out more about it.”

“You could have just asked for it,” I said softly.

He stopped. “You would’ve let me borrow it? A warlock? Come on, Lily. You wouldn’t even let me hand you your water bottle. Germaphobic, remember?”

“But that’s only because I thought you might try to entrap me and drag me back to your creepy…”

“Father?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you I wasn’t the one who put that spell on you.”

He was making it practically impossible for me to be angry at him. His sadness. It made him seem human. Like he might care. He
had
saved me from the burning amulet. And now he was going along with this whole “set up Orchid and Chance so we can hang out” thing. “I know,” I said.

“Do you believe me?”

“I want to.”

Logan nodded, and resumed walking. I wanted to fill the silence, but didn’t know how. Didn’t know if I should try. He made it nearly impossible to stay on guard. It was the being around him, the vulnerability hidden behind his hard-eyed mask, the joking tone in his voice, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking—he was just the opposite of someone I could manipulate. And anyway, making nice did get me ample opportunity to get closer to him, and closer meant an opportunity to catch him off guard and snatch my amulet back, and later…

“Later what?”

“How did you Hear that?”

“You dropped your guard.”

“Is that how you’re doing it?”

“I think so. When you stop thinking I’m the bad guy I can Hear you again. Don’t feel bad, Lil,” he added. “It was a strong spell. Not just anyone could break through it.”

Stop being so sweet.

“No, I meant it.”

“Argh!” I pulled on my hair, and he elbowed me playfully, leaning his hip into mine and bending so close I could paint the dark of his eyelashes. “You aren’t supposed to talk about spells in public like that. I might have to report you to the Congression. Your friend, too. You can’t just approach us in broad daylight and start flirting like crazy—”

He pulled back, surprised. “I’m not flirting. Chance may indeed be flirting, but I’ve been on my best behavior. My
very
best behavior.”

Flustered, I stopped, cupped my hips with my palms, feeling the heat radiating where his bone had touched my skin moments before. “Right. You’ve been talking about milkshakes. And breaking through my spells.”

“Exactly,” he held his palms up like I was pointing a sword at him and he was surrendering. “Totally innocent of any kind of flirtation.”

I rolled my eyes, and started walking again. Immediately, he stepped into my orbit. My purple flip-flops, his black Chucks padded down the Boardwalk. I wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks were flying from the rubber like those cool metal scooters.

Then suddenly the energy in the air changed. Darkened. A group of angry-looking boys ran down the Boardwalk, their eyes daggers, muscles tensed.

“Gang fight,” Logan said quietly. “Wait here.”

He took off after them, and I followed him. The boys’ pace quickened as they disappeared into a dark tunnel—a ghost-themed kiddie ride where you shoot lasers at targets and rack up points. It was one of Daisy’s and my favorites as kids.

I remember being quite good, in fact.

Twenty feet ahead of me, Logan glanced over his shoulder.

Lily, I mean it. This is dangerous. Stay put.

I waited for him to round the corner, and then broke into a sprint again, until I reached the entrance, which was eerily deserted. A bold print sign read:
Out of Order
.

I heard yelling and threats in mixed Spanish and English.

Then a gun went off.

My heart nose-dived as I sprinted into the darkness. I couldn’t see anyone, could only hear screams, and there were several long tunnels to choose from. Which way was Logan? The echoes bounced around the hollow cave. The car—round and curved—sat stalled and still on its tracks.

Magic time.

I closed my eyes, lifted my palms, and pulled the energy from the ground beneath my feet. There was no sun to work with, just the earth. But in this moment it was enough, and the buggy started inching down the track. I jumped in, grabbed the laser gun and willed it to shoot sparks of electricity instead of kiddie flashes of light into the darkness. The sparks lighting my way, I heard more yelling—but the rage had given way to cries of pain and panic. My magic willed the car faster—on a track meant for little children, seatbelt not even required—it was hitting ten, fifteen, then twenty miles per hour until I was flying in that cave,
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
-style.

And then I saw the wall.

Coming fast.

Pulling more energy from the exposed earth beneath the tracks, I tried to yank the brakes.

Stop.

It worked, but not well enough.

Again I squeezed my eyes shut, the car traveling at a speed so beyond its intention it was shaking.

STOP.

I bent the tracks with my mind. Twisted the metal, trying to create a wall of brakes.

Still I flew.

Cursing my failing magic, I bent over into my lap, cradling my head in entwined fingers. Locked in crash position. But then I saw the turn in the rails. Should I hit the wall and risk instant death, or turn the car at the last second and cruise out the exit, risking the safety of innocent people on the boardwalk?

Little kids.

That couldn’t happen.

Think fast. Think fast. Think fast.

The props!

I concentrated and made a plastic haunted house with ghosts sticking out its broken windows fall onto the tracks. Instead of crashing into the wall, I sailed into the plastic house, which bounced around the track, slowing me down a tad. I rubbed my head and screamed. A ghost was now sitting in my passenger seat baring a toothless grin and red flashing lights for eyes.

What I hadn’t anticipated was the impact of the large bulbs inside the plastic. And their impact on my head.