Hex and the Single Witch (2 page)

“Cara.” He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

“You have to accept that it’s over. It was good while it lasted, but let it go.” Brody made an earnest face.

For a moment, Caraway couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Brody wasn’t just here to make sure she hadn’t moved on, he was twisting the knife. Why he wanted to humiliate her, Caraway didn’t know, but he’d thrown the gauntlet.

She jerked away from him and ploughed backwards into Morningstar. The heat of embarrassment burnt like it was melting her face, but Alexander set his hands on her hips to steady her and the burn of humiliation flamed to something else she didn’t want to think about. Later, she would claim the Devil made her do it, but for now it seemed to be the only way out of this situation that would give her a one-up on Brody. Morningstar claimed to like her—let him put his money where his sinful mouth was.

Caraway didn’t doubt for a moment he’d play along with her little scheme, even if he hadn’t been serious about liking her. It was just the sort of mind-fuck that would amuse him.

She slipped her arm around Alexander’s waist and rested her head on his broad chest. The scent of him reminded her of burning leaves on a crisp fall day. It was her favourite scent. Caraway inhaled deeply and her eyes fluttered closed for a moment—her very real pleasure added to the charade.

She wondered briefly whether, if her favourite scent had been cat litter, that’s how he would smell to her. His hand came to rest on the small of her back and his fingers scorched through her clothes, branding her with desire. Oh, this had been a terrible mistake, she decided as she licked her lips with anticipation.

In for a penny...

“Brody, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you broke up with me.” Caraway smiled.

“Knew what?” he asked slowly, like a dumb beast who couldn’t understand what was happening around him.

“That I’ve been fucking
Alexander
.” His name rolled off her tongue like the most decadent of confections and she wanted to say it again—she liked the taste of it.

Clarabelle’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of her head and roll away like fat, pink marbles. Coriander’s mouth dropped open, but promptly snapped shut, and the demon crew waited patiently to see what their leader would do.

Morningstar didn’t miss a beat. “I told you he didn’t know, sweetness. I won that little wager. Now, you’ll have to pay up,” he promised. Or threatened. Yes, it was definitely a threat. He would make her pay for this little show.

For the briefest moment, Caraway imagined paying up. In his bed. On the floor. There in the courtyard... It would certainly take away her culpability. Yes, she was finding ‘the Devil made me do it’ was indeed a useful tool she should have discovered much earlier in life.

“I don’t believe you,” Brody said and shook his head.

“That’s not nice, Caraway. Brody and I waited until he broke up with you.” Clarabelle shook her head in unison with Brody.

“Yes, but he broke up with me in front of the entire student body of UMM.”

“Yes,” Clarabelle piped up again. “That wasn’t nice of him, either.”

“See? I knew this was to make me jealous. I don’t care if you—”

Caraway didn’t hear the rest of what Brody had to say because Alexander had tangled his hands in her hair and had yanked her around to face him. She had no time to demur or even process what was happening. His mouth was hot and insistent on hers, ravaging her lips until she opened for him.

He tasted of sin and she wanted more. Caraway wanted to sin wholly in that moment, to experience all the decadence she tasted on him.

Until the knowledge she was actually kissing Alexander ‘Son of the Devil’ Morningstar slapped her in the face. He sensed her sudden retreat and tightened his arms around her, anchoring her to him and the moment. Cara was helpless against his strength and she surrendered.

Perverse creature that he was, that was when Alexander released her. “Yes, my little witch, you will definitely pay up.”

His hard mouth curled into a knowing smirk.

She was suddenly fascinated by his expression. She’d been determined not to look at him like some moon-eyed calf, but she couldn’t help it. Her gaze was drawn immediately to his mouth, the shape of his lips, the flash of his perfect teeth, and Caraway couldn’t help but imagine his mouth in places Brody had never dreamed of kissing. Although she couldn’t let him have the last word.

“Of course I will. I never welch on a bet, lover. You should know that about me by now,” Caraway promised boldly.

“I was counting on it.” Fire raged in his eyes for a moment before he brushed his thumb across her swollen bottom lip.

Her slit clenched at the caress, but she still wasn’t about to be one-upped. She darted her tongue out to swirl across his finger and nipped at the tip. His eyes widened, but only for a moment before he laughed.

“You still have demerits to work off, don’t you? Why don’t you stay after Hexacology and we’ll discuss terms.”

Sweet Baby Mithras in a ball gag! What the Hell had she got herself into? Panic rose in her throat and threatened to choke her. Well, of course he’d want his payment immediately. He was Alexander Morrigan-damned Morningstar.

Fuck.

What was she going to do?

Her only option was to pay up. She crossed her legs.

“You look like you have to take a piss,” Coriander hissed in her ear.

Cara righted herself with a shaky breath and watched Morningstar cross the quad towards the Hexacology building.

She’d made her bed. Built it with brimstone. Now, she’d have to burn in it. Caraway licked her lips as she remembered his kiss. Oh, how she’d burn.

“Cara, you know, maybe I was a little hasty—” Brody began.

“Fuck yourself sideways, troll,” she said cheerfully and, without waiting for an answer, grabbed Coriander by the elbow as much to stand up straight as to shuffle her to their next class.

“Bloody Hell, Cous. Did that just happen?” Coriander blinked owlishly at her.

“I think it did.”

“I don’t know whether to slap you on the back and congratulate you, or just slap you.”

“Either would be fine at this point,” Cara said, horrified.

She probably needed to be slapped. Hard.

“And I thought it was melt-worthy when he said I had a wicked tongue. You actually got yours in his mouth. So tell me, did he taste like fire and brimstone? Burnt marshmallows and chocolate? Tell me!”

“Sex. He tasted like sex,” Caraway replied dumbly.

“The look on Brody’s face was priceless. I’m so proud of you. All of his troll friends heard you, too. This just upped your cred, ducks.”

“I don’t want to up my cred. Alexander’s going to make me pay for that. I know he is.”

“Of course he is, and you’ll pay the piper and love every minute of it.”

“Hello? Do you remember who we’re talking about? He’s a dick. A bag of dicks. King of the Dicks.”

“He
has
a dick. And I bet you could use it for your mutual satisfaction.”

“Coriander! Be serious. He despises witches. He wants something from me and I don’t know what it is.”

“Yeah, a dip in your cunny.” Coriander rolled her eyes.

“Look, who cares what he wants? You can’t tell me the selfish troll was good bed-sport. Morningstar will make you come until you hear accordions from the choir of Hell and shite, if only to satisfy his own ego.” She bit her lip before she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “I’d shag him.”

“Really?” Cara was shocked.

“Hell, yes.”

“Maybe you should.”

“He’s into you, love. Not me. Which is just as well. I have to punish Brody for you and he will require
all
of my attention.” In that moment, with blue lightning crackling through her veins, Coriander Wormwood looked every inch the wicked witch.

“I am thinking I should skip Hexacology today,” Cara whispered.

“Oh, the Hell you are. Not only will you get more demerits, you’ll still have to serve them with Morningstar—some enterprising sophomore turned Professor Bagglewit into a steaming pile of dragon dung.”

“I could just—”

“No, you can’t ‘just’ anything. If you don’t get rid of those demerits, you won’t get your Hexacology licence and then Hexes & Haunts, Inc. will be dust. Go and take your medicine.” Coriander watched her for a long moment. “I bet this medicine won’t even taste bad going down.”

They both erupted into laughter.

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* * * *

Brody tried to flatten himself at an impossible angle against the hot stone of the wall. The heat burnt through his clothes as the sweat sluiced down the middle of his back, but the discomfort was nothing compared to what was coming.

He cringed.

A neon pink banner shocked his retinas as it was caught and held by the merciless light—the reflection so bright it hurt. Maybe, if he made himself disappear—damn stupid spell book. Brody remembered he’d left it sitting cheerfully in the garderobe. Damn stupid Valerian for distracting him this morning anyway—always talking, that one. Or eating.

He cringed again when he heard a voice—her voice, shrill and piercing. His eardrums seeming to burst like overripe melons. “Brody!” she shrieked.

Nails on a chalkboard.

He waved meekly, losing the battle to hold in a very long, drawn out, and oh-so put-upon sigh. Clarabelle anchored herself to him. It wasn’t precisely her fault he found her so annoying. Valentine fairies were just like that.

No, it was Valerian’s fault.

Brody had started dating Caraway at the end of sophomore year.

Two years.

Twenty-four months.

Ninety- six weeks.

Seven hundred and thirty days.

Seventeen THOUSAND, five hundred, and twenty hours.

That’s how long he’d been chained to a lie.

Valerian and a summer rain had shattered his dreams, changed what he wanted out of life. That had led to the very public break-up with Caraway and the sudden relationship with Clarabelle.

He’d spent that summer with Valerian at his ancestral home in Scotland. A chilly, sudden storm while they were swimming in a secret pool in the lost glen. An accidental touch as they’d scrambled to find shelter—the casual brush of flesh against flesh between friends was nothing until the rain made it something more. Slick, heated skin and a moment gravid with all that could be, living and breathing in the space between their mouths.

A kiss. Only a kiss.

It had changed Brody forever—Valerian’s yielding lips beneath his, the hard ridge of his cock digging into his thigh.

The primal need with which Valerian’s hands had fisted in his hair and pushed him down the finely muscled path of his torso to his cock. The absolute bliss with which he’d spilled into Valerian’s greedy mouth and the sweet-salty taste on his lips as Valerian had done the same.

In the dark, before Caraway’s true power had come to her, her body had been narrow and formless. Close enough that Brody could imagine it was Valerian. But with her power had come her curves, a body all his friends had envied his access to—even Valerian.

Valerian
He’d acted as if the moment had never happened, as if they’d never touched each other, never found that pleasure together. He had a duty to marry, to produce magical children to continue his line. That was his excuse. They all did. The presence of magic was waning in the world and the ban on more than two children per couple had been lifted. Magical families with seven children or more now paid no taxes and their tuition fees to UMM were waived.

There were trolls and other magic folk who lived as they chose, but they married first. Produced children to do their duty before they could be with those they loved. Yet, that didn’t matter to him. He was tired of living a lie. Brody didn’t want children. He didn’t want a wife.

Brody had broken up with Caraway because he knew she deserved better than that from him. He hadn’t meant for it to become a public event, but after he’d started down that path, he’d had no choice. She’d accused him of wanting to spend more time with his footballer mates than with her, and she’d been right. Her darts had hit too close for comfort.

And Clarabelle. Gods, but she was a wreck. So needy.

Valerian had shoved them together knowing, with her slender build, Brody could fake it with her, and would—if only to get Caraway off his back.

But now, seeing Caraway with Morningstar, it had done something to him. Twisted up his guts.

“You were pretty mean to Caraway today.”

“She’s making a fool of herself with Morningstar.” Brody tried to shrug her off him. “Hey, Clarabelle, it’s really hot. So if you could...”

She looked like a puppy he’d kicked. “You know, Brody, I don’t understand why you even asked me to be your girl. You don’t even like me.”

“Clarabelle, I like you fine. I just need my space.”

She shrugged. “Space isn’t my forte. I’m a Valentine fairy. You knew that when you asked me out. I think we should break up.”

“You just feel bad for Caraway.”

“Partially. But I also know she’s a Wormwood and a Wormwood can hold a grudge.” She shuddered, her pink wings fluttering with the motion. “Rainabelle told me Caraway and her cousin are opening a shop when they get their Hexacology certifications. I want no part of that.”

“That didn’t bother you at the Samhain mixer.”

“That was before I realised you don’t even like me. I’ve got some pride, you know.”

“Clarabelle,” he began, unsure of what to say. Because she was right. He didn’t really like her.

“It’s okay, Brody. Just don’t lie to me.”

He studied her for a moment. “Can I trust you?”

“What? I guess.”

“No, really, Clara. If I tell you this, it has to stay between us. On your magic.”

“On my magic, I vow,” Clara said easily.

“It’s not you. It’s your plumbing.”

“My plumbing?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but it felt right. “I don’t know yet if I’m gay or bisexual, because there was a time when I liked fucking Caraway. But I loved fucking Valerian and I owe it to myself to find out.” Brody took a deep breath and realised he felt pretty damn good.