Go Hex Yourself

I’m full of worry on the plane ride to our destination. I think Ben is, too. We’re both silent, the only sound that of the plane engine. Ben looks uncomfortable in his suit, which is fair. It doesn’t look like a very relaxing getup. Dashing, yes. Comfy, no. I wiggle my feet in my sneakers, trying not to panic about the upcoming party we’re going to. A party full of witches and warlocks that are all going to judge Ben and find him lacking.

I touch the cuffs on my arms, thinking about all the strange, archaic rules that his kind have. My kind, too, I guess, if I have this ambrosia in my blood as well. But I can’t help but think about the fact that if I take Ben’s cuff off, I’ll never be able to put it on again. I should take it off so no one will think terrible things about him or assume he’s stealing me from Dru.

I just don’t want to. I like belonging to Ben, which sounds crazy and needy, but it’s true.

I fight back a small yawn, and Ben touches my hand. “Tired? Is the obfuscation spell wearing on you?”

I guess it is? I shrug. I didn’t think about it much. I’m no more tired than if I’d missed a few hours of sleep. I don’t feel like I’m about to pass out, though. Just a little more low energy than usual. “I’m fine. You?”

“Worried about Aunt Dru. Dreading this party. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m not exactly a people person.”

I chuckle at that. “Ben Magnus, if I was thinking of words to describe you, ‘people person’ would be the very last two words on that list.”

His mouth lifts in a faint smile that quickly disappears. He studies me again.

“I can take the bracelet off,” I offer, even though I don’t want to. I also don’t want him destroying his already tattered reputation for me.

“No. Absolutely not. It’s the only thing keeping you from being cursed. If I lose you, too . . .” His mouth flattens and his expression grows hard. “No, Reggie. Don’t even consider it.”

“Okay,” I say softly. I want to reach out and squeeze his hand, but I’m not sure how he’d take me comforting him. He’s wound up tight right now, and I feel like one wrong move—or word—and he’ll snap in half. “So, what should I expect at this party? I’ve never been to any sort of witch or warlock function.”

Ben grows thoughtful. “That’s right. You didn’t come from the Society of Familiars. This is new to you.” When I nod, he continues. “I imagine this will probably be a fairly small gathering, maybe no more than ten or twelve. Abernathy is rumored to be a hermit, so I would be very surprised if it’s more people than that.” He thinks for a moment longer. “Most of these get-togethers are to brag about spells or castings, or to share information, so I imagine there will be a faint bit of magic hanging in the air at all times.”

“That doesn’t sound too horrible.”

He nods. “If it feels thicker in certain areas than others, though, maybe avoid them. Actually, avoid anyone that looks at your bracelets for too long or asks too many questions.” Ben frowns. “Actually, don’t leave my side.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“And if anyone touches you, deck them.”

I swallow hard. “Is someone going to try to touch me, then?”

“They shouldn’t, no, but I have to remind myself that most of these men aren’t exactly modern thinkers. Some warlocks are older than Aunt Dru. They’ve owned people in their pasts. They think women aren’t equals. Just be on your guard.”

Charming group I’m getting involved with. Something tells me that I’m going to have more than one old coot tell me to smile tonight. “Got it. So if anyone thinks I’m less than a person because I’m a girl, I get to kick them in the ’nads.” When he nods, I ask, “Are they going to say bad things about you in front of me?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll kick them in the ’nads for that, too.”

Ben smiles over at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and I know he’s stressed. I know he says he doesn’t care what they think, but considering it affects not only him but me and his aunt, he has to be a little worried. I guess if you live for two thousand years, you run into the same people over and over again, and pissing them off (especially when they’re curse-happy) is not a good thing.

The stressed-out tension remains between us as we land at the airport and rent a car. Using the map app, we follow the address out into the countryside, and Ben’s frowns grow increasingly more intense as the sun goes down and we approach our destination. It’s just after dark, the skies hazy and purple, when we first start to see the cars lining the side of the road. “Someone else is having a party, too,” I joke, because there really are a lot of them. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, with trees all around us and the roads deserted, nary a streetlight to be seen, but there are cars up and down the side streets, packed bumper to bumper.

Those warlocks are going to be super annoyed when someone throws a rave just down the street.

Ben turns down a side street, and not only do the woods grow denser, but the line of cars continues. I begin to get a weird, prickling sensation on my skin. “Are all these people going to the warlock party?”

“I hope not,” Ben says grimly. “I thought Abernathy was the type to enjoy solitude.”

Apparently not. Because as we turn down the driveway to the address in the GPS, it becomes very obvious that all these people are attending the same party we are. I give Ben a worried look and notice his hands are tight on the steering wheel. It’s one thing to be showing off your sins in front of ten people, another to be showing off your aunt’s familiar in front of a couple hundred.

I didn’t even know this many witches existed. Not only that, but it’s a party that everyone seems to have been invited to except Ben. My heart squeezes for him. “Did . . . Do you think Willem knew it would be this many people?” I ask, whispering. “Because—”

“He knew,” Ben says flatly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s here tonight himself, even without a familiar. He’s not one to be left out.”

“Good. If he’s here, I’m going to add him to the list of people to punch in the balls.”

He gives me a ghost of a smile and then parks deliberately in front of the house, blocking the driveway. A few people standing on the steps of the enormous house pause to frown at us, but no one comes out to demand we move. I imagine this is Ben’s way of doubling down on his bad-boy reputation. If they expect him to be a dick, he’ll be a dick. And I’ll stand by his side every step of the way.

I take a brief moment to stare up at the house. It’s something. It looks like the hideous offspring of a hunting lodge and a castle. There are gables upon gables, and windows everywhere. The roof looks like an endless series of high, tight pyramids that lead down to walls with so many windows that they seem made entirely of glass. Inside I can see chandeliers filled with yellow light, animal heads mounted on the walls, and decorative antlers everywhere. So many antlers. I can also see a red-carpeted staircase, and the interior walls look to be made entirely of more shiny, glossy wood.

It’s a little bit country and a lot upper class, and I’m glad I dressed up.

Ben gets out of the car and moves around to my side, intending to get the door for me. As he does, I hastily kick off my sneakers and switch to the strappy heels Lisa lent me. I tear my coat off, too, since it’s now party-dress time, and I want to look good in front of everyone else. Witch and warlock society seems to involve a lot of pissing contests, and I didn’t want to embarrass Ben by showing up in my old plain dress, so I borrowed a gown from Lisa, too. I’ve kept it carefully covered up until now, and when I step out of the car, Ben sees me in it for the first time.

His eyes widen and he stares at me. Hard.

I touch the low neckline and then sling the strap of the slim black purse I’ve also borrowed over my shoulder. “Too much?”