Go Hex Yourself

    PENNY: Reggie, I just found out something terrible. Are you there?

PENNY: My sister’s friend Marissa is a familiar for an elderly warlock in California who knows the Magnus family. She asked him about Ben and he said the reason why everyone is so frightened of him is because he MURDERED HIS OWN PARENTS. Horrifying! And the source I have is credible. Maybe you should get out while you can. I’m worried about you.

PENNY: I’m sorry if this seems gossipy but I’d want to know if I was under the same roof as a murderer!

PENNY: I hope you’re okay! Call me! We’re still on for coffee tomorrow AM right?



I’ve known from chatting with Dru that not all witches and warlocks use their magic for good. That morals get grayer and grayer the older the witch gets. Ben has mentioned it, too. That with the ability to curse, a lot of people use their power for darker things. I just didn’t think Ben would be one of them.

Ben, who laughs when I outplay him in Spellcraft.

Ben, who tenderly picked me up when I couldn’t walk straight after being turned into a cat.

Ben, who kisses like I’m the most precious being in the universe and all he wants to do is worship me.

I touch my mouth, remembering the feel of his kisses. I don’t know if I’m horrified that I kissed a murderer or horrified that it was the best kissing experience I’ve ever had and that I want more of it. I can’t believe I’m mooning over a murderer. Not just any murderer, but someone who killed his parents and openly admitted to it. I’d hoped he’d explain, that something was just a misunderstanding.

Nope. He’d given me a defiant look, as if daring me to comment on it. Ben is the bad guy everyone thinks he is, and I don’t know what to do with that.

I made out with an evil warlock.

I shudder, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m still turned on or appalled at myself. All I know is that I can’t stay in this environment. I can’t live under the same roof as Ben, down the hall from a man who casually murdered the two people that are supposed to mean the most to him in the world.

Maybe they were users, my brain supplies. Maybe they were like your parents.

Even if they were . . . I didn’t murder mine. I wouldn’t. Part of me still wants their love and approval, even though I know that’s fucked up in the head. I know they’re toxic.

Maybe I just have a thing for toxic people . . . like Ben. It’s clear my own judgment is impaired. Maybe Dru is just as bad, and I’ve been blinded to it because of the money. Ugh. My stomach churns at the thought. I turn and flip the three locks on the door, bolting myself inside. When I turn around, I see Maurice crawling out from under the bed. He gives me a tiny, gentle meow and then hops up onto the corner of the bed, his tail twitching.

“Are you asking me what’s wrong?” I bite my lip, then lean in to whisper to the cat. “I just made out with Ben and found out he murdered his parents after we lip-locked. I have a lot of feelings about that.”

Maurice blinks. Twice.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

He blinks. Slowly. Then he begins to clean his paws.

“Maurice, do you know anything about this curse business?”

His tail twitches. If a cat could give me a look that said, “Obviously,” it would be the look he’s giving me right now.

Right. I guess that was a dumb question. “I just need to know if you understand me. Can you blink once for yes and twice for no?”

He blinks once.

“Is that a legit blink for yes, or is that you just blinking because you’re a cat?”

He blinks once again, slow and unhurried.

I don’t know if we’re really communicating or if I’m losing my damn mind. When he starts to groom himself again, I suspect the latter. “Maurice, help me. I’m freaking out. Am I in danger here?”

He looks up. Blinks twice. Then he goes to curl up next to my pillows.

I guess . . . that’s a good sign? “So I’m not going to get cursed?”

He opens his eyes, flicks his tail once at me, and then closes his eyes again, settling in for a nap. I don’t know if that means yes, I’m going to get cursed, or yes, I’m not going to get cursed. I need to be clearer when talking to a magical cat, I guess.

I rub a hand down my face. There’s something I never thought I’d tell myself. Doesn’t matter. Maurice is clearly done with the conversation.

Just like I’m done with this situation. Witches or not, money or not, I know when to cut my losses. I grab my bag and begin to pack my clothes into it.



* * *





IT’S LATE WHEN I hear someone coming up the stairs. I put my ear to the door, listening to the footsteps. Dru’s are always small and light, whereas Ben’s footsteps are heavy and the footfalls spaced far apart. When it becomes clear that the person coming up the stairs is Dru, I open my door.

She smiles brightly at me. “Oh, hello, darling! Do you know, I won on pull tabs? Twice! It’s my lucky night.” She waves a hand in the air. “Well, other than I sat next to a chain-smoker all night. But really, it wasn’t so bad. Did you have a nice evening? I didn’t see my darling Caliban tonight. Have you seen him?”

“Not since earlier,” I say, and bite my lip. “Dru, we need to talk.”

Her eyes widen, and she takes a step backward, as if wanting to flee me. “Oh no. You can’t quit, Reggie! We’re just getting used to each other!”

How did she know I was going to quit? It doesn’t matter. I shake my head, keeping my voice gentle. “Dru, I’m sorry—”

She races toward me, putting her small, cold hands over mine. Her clothes reek of cigarettes and fried food, and she’s got bingo-bottle ink all over her hands. “Is this about Lisa? Has something else happened?”

“You mean other than her being cursed and all of your other familiars being cursed?” When Dru doesn’t blink, I give her hands a squeeze. “That’s exactly why I need to leave, Dru. I can’t be cursed. I don’t want to end up a cat.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. No one ends up a cat but Maurice.”

I scowl down at her lined, cherub-cheeked face. “But they all get cursed, don’t they?”

She rubs my fingers, her rings cutting into my skin. “Please, Reggie. Do you need a raise? Is that what’s wrong? I can give you a raise. Name your amount.”

God, she’s hitting me right where it hurts. I wince, because money is always the kicker. I can’t ignore that I made out with her nephew the evil warlock, though . . . or that I’d probably do it again given half the chance. I can’t trust myself in these situations, so time to get out of the situation. “It’s not you, Dru. It’s me. I can’t stay. I just—”

She shakes her head, putting a hand up. “Did Caliban say something? Did he offend you with naughty words? I thought he liked you.” Her expression grows sad. “I thought he was kind of sweet on you, actually.”

Great, the evil warlock is sweet on me. I pull my hands out of her clingy grip. “No—”

“I can’t think straight right now,” Dru tells me dramatically. “My head hurts from all that smoke, and I have a migraine. It’s far too late at night, and I have a lot going on. So much going on. Can’t we discuss this in the morning over coffee? We’ll go over what kind of raise you need to stay, and take it from there.” She nods, as if it’s all been solved, and then puts a hand to her brow.

“No, Dru—”

Rubbing her temples, Dru ignores me and heads for her bedroom. “Tomorrow morning, first thing, Reggie dear. We’ll get whatever you’re unhappy about sorted away. I just can’t think straight right now.”