Page 16

AVERY

A s a matter of fact, it did get weirder.

Headmistress Nightworthy had said that she couldn’t get me out of all the classes I had with Drakes and she had been right—it would have been a logistical nightmare. I had Drakes in almost every class and plenty of them were the ones who had bullied me.

But today, in every one of my morning classes, the Drakes who had so hated and abused me were being not just civil but absolutely nice to me.

In first period, Tomas Torrez held the door open for me.

In second period, Ricardo Perez picked up a pencil I had dropped and handed it back to me with a smile.

He even said, “you’re welcome” when I offered him a dumbfounded “thanks.” And in my third period, Sergio Nunez actually smiled at me and asked how my day was going—and he gave every indication of really wanting to know!

By the time lunchtime rolled around, I knew that something had to be up. But what?

I had no idea until I sat down with my lunch—(another cup of coffee, extra cream, extra sugar)—and saw Megan grinning at me.

“Hello, Avery,” she said. “Did you notice anything different today?”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did, Princess Latimer. Every single Drake I meet has been as sweet as pie to me today. Would you have something to do with that?”

Megan’s grin grew even wider.

“Yes, I did!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing in her chair with excitement. “And I used little magic, Avery! No Blood Magic at all!”

To Megan—who has a vast amount of magical power within her—anything but Blood Magic, (which is so strong it has been outlawed by the Council of Other Elders) is “little” magic.

Since she started out doing the heavy, powerful stuff first, it’s been a struggle for her to master what the rest of the magical world considers normal, everyday spells.

I sighed.

“All right then—what did you do to them?”

“It’s a ‘Good Manners’ spell!” Megan told me, her eyes shining. “I found it tucked away in this little book of spells for children that nobody had opened in about like, fifty years.”

I groaned and put a hand to my face.

“Megan, do you know what you’ve done?” I demanded. “Those Drakes you bespelled aren’t being nice to me because they want to—you’re forcing them to be nice and that means that inside they’re getting more and more pissed off!”

“Oh, no—really?” Megan looked at me uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure—because my father put a spell like that on me when I was a kid,” I told her.

“He did?” She frowned. “What happened?”

“Nothing good,” I assured her. “It was pretty much a disaster from start to finish.”

“Tell us, why don’t you?” Griffin, who was sitting on Megan’s other side, invited. “I told her she shouldn’t do it,” he added, shooting her a frown.

“Yes, tell us—what’s so bad about the manners spell?” she demanded. “Because it seems to be working beautifully.”

“Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving,” I told her.

“Look, I was only about five or six when my father put it on me. At that age kids always speak their minds and act on their feelings. Anyway, I had a great aunt at the time that I absolutely loathed. She was always pinching my cheek and wanting to hug me and plant these big, sloppy kisses all over my plump young cheeks. I still vividly recall the odor of her denture breath as she cooed in my ear, ‘And how’s my little man, today?’” I shivered at the memory.

“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” Griffin remarked and the others at the table—Saint was notably absent—nodded, since they were now listening in.

“It wasn’t,” I assured him. “Anyway, like most kids that age, I didn’t like being slobbered over. So I did everything I could to avoid my Great Aunt Zelda when she came. I squirmed to get away from her grip and wiped my cheek right away, as soon as she kissed me.

“However, Great Aunt Zelda happened to be my father’s aunt, and she was the keeper of the extremely valuable and ancient family grimoire, which he hoped to inherit one day.

(I found all this out later, of course.) So one day—without me knowing it—he put the ‘Good Manners’ spell on me before she came to visit. ”

“And what happened?” Megan asked, frowning. “Did you break through the spell and do something even worse?”

“I was too young,” I told her. “At first I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

I only knew that as much as I hated it, I had to sit on Great Aunt Zelda’s lap and smile while she kissed me and cooed over me.

She covered my cheeks with sloppy kisses and talked about what a ‘big little man’ I was and generally made me miserable and I just had to sit there and take it. ”

“Oh, my…” Megan’s face had gone a bit pale. “Oh dear…so you weren’t really feeling happy to be with your Great Aunt, you just had to pretend that you were, right?”

“Exactly,” I said. “I think you can see where this little story is heading.”

“Tell us more,” Jalli piped up. Her three chimelings were whizzing around her head and diving down to eat the round green peas on her tray from time to time. “Did you stay under the spell the whole time?”

I shook my head.

“My mother realized that something was wrong with me because I wasn’t acting like myself at all. She’s a Null but she was raised in a magical family and she knew the signs of someone under a spell. So she took my father into the kitchen and finally got it out of him.”

I shook my head, remembering. I had been watching through a crack in the door and I had seldom seen my mother so upset.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” she’d shout-whispered at my father, since Great Aunt Zelda was still in the house.

“You’ve taken away Avery’s free will! You’ve subjected him to unwanted physical contact with an adult he doesn’t like!

That’s child abuse! Hell, it’s damn near pedophilia the way she slobbers all over him! ”

My father had frowned mutinously.

“It’s not abuse—he needs to learn proper manners. He can’t be allowed to go around disrespecting adults the way he does Aunt Zelda.”

“He’s five!” my mother exclaimed. “Children that age aren’t always perfectly behaved. And I refused to let you bespell our son just because you want the Connor family grimoire! Now take that damn spell off him right now!”

Well, my mom was a head and a half shorter than my dad and she had zero magic while he had an enormous amount, but when she looked at him like that and spoke in that tone, he listened.

“So what did he do?” Ari asked—he and Kaitlyn were also listening with interest.

“And what did you do?” Kaitlyn added.

“He took the spell off me and I kicked Great Aunt Zelda in the shins the next time she tried to grab me and kiss me,” I said promptly.

“Oh, and I think I shouted something like—‘I hate you! Your breath stinks!’” I shook my head.

“My father never forgave me for that, I don’t think.

He never did get his hands on the family grimoire. ”

“Good for you, kicking her!” Jalli—who was normally a peaceful little soul—said unexpectedly. There was a light of anger in her eyes that really surprised me.

Megan, on the other hand, had turned white as a sheet.

“Oh my God,” she murmured. “I didn’t realize…”

“That the Drakes you bespelled are no doubt seething with rage under the amiable smiles they’ve been casting in my direction all day?

” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m afraid so, Princess Latimer.

So could you please take the manners spell off them right away, before they get even angrier and want to kick my ass from here to the Sky Lands? ”

“I doubt they’ll be doing that since you have a Drake protector—especially one as formidable as Saint’s Drake,” Ari objected.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Saint is nowhere to be found,” I said crisply, nodding down at the empty chair at the end of the table.

“Where is he, though?” Kaitlyn asked, looking worried.

“Yeah, is he all right?” Emma, who had been silent up until now, asked.

I gave an elaborate shrug.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” I said, taking another sip of my lunchtime coffee.

“Oh dear—have things gotten worse between the two of you?” Megan asked.

I nodded shortly, not wanting to tell her that things had gotten worse precisely because they had gotten better previously. I won’t lie—after the intimacy between us the night before, the way Saint was avoiding me hurt—hurt like hell— and I really didn’t want to talk about it.

“So…he’s not protecting you anymore?” Ari asked.

“He was never precisely ‘protecting’ me in the first place,” I said, rather waspishly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have ‘damsel in distress’ stamped on my forehead. I don’t need protecting—especially not by Saint.”

Though I supposed it was possible his crazy Drake would drag him into a confrontation if someone started beating me up, I didn’t think my tall, dark roommate wanted anything else to do with me. So I was going to leave him strictly alone as well, I told myself.

I tried to ignore the pain this thought caused, like a poisonous thorn that had lodged in my heart.

“ Dios , Avery, you will need protecting if the Drakes are magically forced to keep being nice to you,” Ari pointed out. “I can’t imagine they’re happy right about now.” He shot a glance at Megan.

“I’m going to go break the spell right away,” she said quickly. “There’s still some time before lunch ends.” She got up from the table, bringing her half-eaten tray with her. “Griffin, will you come with me?”

He smiled at her.

“Of course I will, my Witch Queen.”

She grinned back.

“Thank you my Blood Knight. Come on—I have to hurry up before next period!”

The two of them left the table and I hoped that Megan would have time to break the spell. Now that Saint had apparently decided he hated me again, I really didn’t have much protection against the angry Drakes who had been forced to be nice to me against their will all morning long.