When I enter the kitchen, Ben leans against the counter. Dru is pretending to sip her tea, but then she lets out one of those little giggles again that ruins everything.
“All right,” I say, gesturing at Ben. “What’s the plan?”
Instead of looking at me, he looks over at his aunt. “I want you to have the girl help you make a potion.”
“I have a name. It’s Reggie,” I retort. “And I’m not a girl. I’m an adult. I’m twenty-five, thank you very much.”
Dru immediately spits tea all over the counter.
Ben hands her a napkin, and I could swear his mouth twitches with amusement. “Twenty-five. My apologies. I didn’t realize how very ancient you were.”
Dru coughs more tea everywhere, mopping up the mess. I can’t tell if they’re making fun of me or not. It feels like they are, and it makes it hard to keep smiling.
“Potion, Dru. Pick one. Pick your favorite.” Ben just gives her a surly look. “We’re done with playing around the subject.”
Dru looks down at her now-empty mug with a small sigh. “I would love to, Caliban darling, but I’m fresh out of crow’s foot, and you know how important it is for veneficia.”
“Veneficia?” I echo.
“Herbalism.” Dru beams at me as if that explains everything. “And if we’re going to make a potion to improve penis potency, we’ll need crow’s foot.”
“You’ll what?” snaps Ben.
“You told me to pick my favorite!” The elderly woman gives her nephew a sidelong look and lifts her mug as if to drink from it again, despite it being empty. “So I did.”
His nostrils flare and his jaw works. He looks as if he wants to argue, but that high color is flushing his cheekbones and he thinks better of it. “Fine. We can have her gather your components, then. That works, too. Make a list and we’ll do that, then you can make the potion with her.”
“Sounds perfect. Just let me go and get my favorite pen.” She beams a smile at me. “Be right back.”
Spell components. For a potion. I manage to keep smiling until Dru leaves the room, and then I turn a nasty glare toward Ben Magnus. “I just want you to know that I don’t approve of this.”
His dark, heavy brows knit together. “Potions?”
“Playing along with all this witch nonsense,” I hiss at him, taking a step forward. My fists are clenched at my sides. “Your aunt is a vulnerable lady, and you’re not doing her any favors by humoring these delusions. It’s elder abuse. It’s cruel, and you’re heartless for choosing to play along with it.”
He stares down at me with narrowed eyes. “Cruel and heartless. Yes, I suppose I am. But you’re being paid to be her assistant, so I guess you’ll just have to deal with all this pretend.”
6
BEN
The girl—Reggie—is driving me absolutely mad.
She stands in front of me, her hands on her hips, utterly defiant. Her eyes spark with anger and indignance over my supposed neglect of my crafty aunt, who she thinks needs help around the house instead of an actual apprentice-slash-familiar. I can’t help but compare Reggie to the last one—Lisa. Lisa, who is a pleasant enough sort but is also lazy and folds at the slightest hint of conflict. Who helped me out for a short while after my last apprentice quit, and who quailed with terror every time I looked in her direction.
This one’s not afraid of me at all. Reggie’s glare is utterly disapproving, as if I’m somehow responsible for my aunt’s actions. And even though I intended to force my aunt into using Reggie as a true familiar and leave, I find that I’m suddenly very, very interested in staying.
I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she realizes magic is real, my aunt is a two-thousand-year-old sorceress, and no one’s been pretending anything.
Feeling smug, I lean back against the counter, my arms crossed. “Sorry to ruin your plans for the evening, but it looks like you’re going to have to work some overtime. You’re going to assist my aunt in making potions.”
She gives me another fierce glare. “I didn’t have plans, so I don’t mind at all.” Her tone is sugary sweet as she gives me a feral smile. “After all, it’s my job to assist your aunt, even if the task is cruel and feeds into her delusions.”
Her delusions? “Someone here is delusional, yes.” I can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her. She’s bristling with indignation and protectiveness for my aunt. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s not from the Society of Familiars, I’d think she’s perfect for the job. She’s cute and disarming in appearance, of course, which is a problem. A familiar represents their witch or warlock. Aunt Dru wears bright colors in her day-to-day business, but she’s also fifteen hundred years older than me, so it’s difficult to get her to listen. Reggie doesn’t look like a familiar, with her hair pulled into two twists atop her head, an old, ratty sweatshirt tossed over her jeans. It’s another thing she’s got all wrong . . . but her fierce loyalty to my aunt is commendable.
That, and her freckles. For some reason I can’t stop thinking about them. I fucked my hand last night imagining those damned freckles. Just to get it out of my system.
Didn’t work.
It irritates me that I’m attracted to her. She’s everything that I despise, and I’ve already spent too much time with her in my head. Aunt Dru will get the potion done tonight, the girl—Reggie—will realize what she’s gotten into, and then she’ll want out. We can make an amulet to remove her memories of this last week and start the apprentice search again.
Her phone buzzes with another incoming text, and even though she doesn’t reach for it, my temper flares. I think about the picture from earlier—her boyfriend sending her lewd photographs of himself. I lift my chin, deciding to needle her a bit more. “Your boyfriend thinks you have plans, judging by the pictures he’s sending you.”
Reggie looks flustered, her hand fluttering to her back jeans pocket, where her phone is stored, and then away again. “I’m not . . . He’s not my boyfriend.”
“I don’t want the details of your dating life,” I say in a scathing tone. I don’t. Even if I’m mentally wondering how I can get a lock of his hair to curse him with impotency.
I don’t care. I don’t.
Aunt Dru flutters back into the kitchen, all oversized gauzy pink robe and feather-tipped pen. She waves a sheet of paper in the air. “I changed my mind. I did make a list for the penis-prowess potion—or as I like to call it, the Triple P of Penetration. But I did promise Doris I’d make one of my healing potions. She hurt her knee stepping off a curb yesterday, and I owe her one.” Her smile is bright. “And this potion doesn’t require any crow’s foot. Just mugwort and seed of Jupiter.” She winks at me. “And a little pizzazz, of course.”
A healing tonic is child’s play. She’s coddling the girl—Reggie—again. But at least it’s progress. “Fine. Go ahead and begin.” I hop up on the counter behind me, letting my legs dangle over the cabinets.
My aunt’s eyes light up. “Oh, are you staying, Caliban?”
I nod. I’m not going anywhere. Not when the show’s about to begin. “I want to see how your new apprentice handles things.” I cast a look over at Reggie, doing my best not to smirk and failing. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she realizes it’s real.
“Who’s Doris?” Reggie asks, stepping in next to my aunt as she heads to the pantry. I can’t help but notice the imperious look she shoots in my direction, as if daring me. As if saying, “See, I’m not going anywhere.” Even though she’s infuriating, I love that she’s not backing down.
“One of my canasta partners. You’ll meet her next Thursday. She’s the one that dyes her hair and brows that gaudy chestnut color. It makes her look like a really hard thousand years old.” Aunt Dru shakes her head, as if she disapproves of someone else’s gaudiness. Irony. She opens the pantry door and peers inside. “You reorganized things, and I don’t know where my casting components are.”