Page 2 of How to Charm a Coven (How to Flirt with a Witch #2)

After how hard I had to fight to earn a place in the coven, I would be naive to think this is over. The witches must have reconsidered exactly who’s to blame. I was the one who smashed the locks on the chimeras’ cages, after all.

As we taxi to our gate, I type a reply with clumsy thumbs.

Katie

What does she want? Why couldn’t she wait til I’m back at C.S.A.M.M.?

Natalie

I’ll try to figure that out. Just don’t let her get to you before I do.

The lights suddenly feel too bright, like a spotlight is shining down on me. Fragments of the oath I swore and Natalie’s warnings about breaking it come back: trial by jury…imprisonment…

I bounce my knee, my stomach twisting. If Fiona’s here with official authority, she could detain me on the spot. And from the urgency in Natalie’s texts, that’s exactly what she’s afraid will happen.

“You look like you might need this,” Hazel says, offering me a barf bag.

I shake my head. Keeping my voice at a murmur, I force myself to say the harsh reality. “One of the, uh, higher-ups is here. Natalie seems worried about why.”

Hazel’s eyes widen, and she drops the barf bag. “Think it has to do with you setting free all the—” She looks around. “The you-know-what ?”

Oh, and I told her about that, too. Just that we had to set magic free in order to keep it from some bad people. She had questions when we were driving away from shapeshifting monsters ravaging the city, okay?

“Probably,” I say tightly.

She frowns. “The way Natalie is, she wouldn’t have let you come back if she wasn’t certain it was safe to return. ”

“I know, but…” A chill ripples over me. In truth, we were focused on coming up with a plan to rescue her dad, not to mention protecting me from the Madsens. We thought the coven had turned their focus back to the Madsens, too.

Hazel furrows her brow. “Is it possible the others lied to Natalie? Made her think they forgave you?”

I grimace. “Yes. They needed me to come back—easier than flying across the country to hunt me down, I guess—which meant they had to convince Natalie that they’d given up on wanting to punish me.”

Hazel’s face goes ashen. “You think they still want to punish you after so long?”

Time for a confession, now that we’re safely on the ground. “That turbulence was you-know-what. I feel it. Which means they’ve been dealing with the aftermath since February, and they’re not going to forget whose fault this is.” I make a flourishing gesture at myself.

Hazel’s mouth falls open.

I rub my face, frustration churning in my gut. I swore an oath to protect magic, and that’s what I was doing. But Fiona thought I was a traitor for releasing the magic they’d worked to contain.

“What’ll they do to me?” I ask. “What if their punishments are like…medieval?”

“Don’t say that,” Hazel says, her voice high. “We just have to figure out how to convince them that you did the right thing.”

We . That’s cute.

I reach over and pat her thigh, grateful for her loyalty, but we both know there’s nothing she can do to help me get out of this.

Crap, what if she gets dragged into this and becomes collateral again? My nerves twist tighter. This is a disaster. I shouldn’t be allowed near her. In fact, she should get a restraining order against me at this point for her own safety.

The seatbelt sign dings off, and people stand .

I sit frozen, my heart doing its best to escape through my throat. “How am I going to avoid her? There’s only one way out of here.”

“Well, the first step is to get off the plane,” Hazel says logically, unbuckling her seatbelt with steady hands. “We can make a plan on our way to the luggage carousels.”

“Right. Yeah.” I fumble with my buckle, and a spark of inspiration strikes. “Wait—our luggage!”

Hazel shoots me an alarmed look. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

“Disguising myself with hats and jackets so Fiona won’t recognize me?”

“Oh. I thought you were going to ask me to cram you into a suitcase and wheel you out.”

I point to her enthusiastically. “Ooh, I like that better!”

The people in front of us grab their carry-ons and leave, so we stand too.

Hazel sighs. “How am I supposed to manage two sets of luggage alone? And what’ll we do with all your displaced clothes?”

I shrug into my heavy backpack. “Keep thinking. We’ve got a few minutes to make a plan.”

And probably only that long before Fiona decides my fate.

Hazel and I disembark and walk through the carpeted maze beneath fluorescent lights, everyone’s rolling suitcases rumbling like thunder. Rain streams down the windows in typical West Coast fashion, blurring the familiar view of the mountains.

When we get to baggage claim, I stop in my tracks. This is the domestic terminal, which means there’s no customs checkpoint—no barrier between us and the waiting area. I can see the exit from here, and so anyone watching can march right up to me.

I grab Hazel’s arm and yank her behind a planter. “I don’t have time to wait for my luggage. I’m a target the second I step out there. ”

Hazel looks around and grabs my arm right back, dropping her voice to an urgent whisper. “What if we switch clothes?”

I eye her gray University of Toronto hoodie and sweatpants. Inconspicuous. Meanwhile, I’m a beacon, and I’m sure everyone in the coven has seen me in this outfit before.

“Your choice,” Hazel says, reading my internal battle.

I slump. Dammit, I wanted Natalie to see me this way. “Okay. Good idea.”

We duck into the nearest bathroom and lock ourselves in neighboring stalls. Fighting my backpack and Ethel’s kennel for space, I strip down, mourning my hot outfit as I toss it over the divider to Hazel. Bye, sexy cleavage.

Her sweatsuit smells like her, reminding me of when we borrowed each other’s clothes in high school. Simpler times.

As we emerge from our stalls, Hazel looks pleased with her end of the deal.

I scan her up and down. “Damn, girl. You’re going to get all the ladies looking like that.”

She checks herself out in the mirror. “Really?”

Her tone is pretty enthusiastic for someone who is straight, but we can unpack that later. Right now, panic sets in as I check my reflection. “I’m still obviously me! Ugh, why didn’t I pack my balaclava?”

That thing has gotten me through magic-related crises before, and it could do it again.

Hazel reaches out and pulls the hood up. “Hide your hair.”

I tie the strings so it cinches around my face. Yup, I officially look like a weirdo for my reunion with Natalie.

“Better…” Hazel circles me like a fashion consultant who is terrible at her job. “I read a lot of spy novels as a kid, and there’s more to a good disguise. You have to change your posture and the way you walk. And give me Ethel. ”

I hand over the kennel and hunch my shoulders. “Like this?”

“More.”

I slump further down so I’m shaped like the letter S.

Hazel nods. “Perfect.”

I shuffle my feet and bow my head as we return to baggage claim.

Hazel is looking around way too much, her eyes darting from person to person. “What does Fiona look like?” she whispers.

“Stop acting suspicious!” I hiss back.

“Oh, and you’re telling me you don’t look suspicious, Slouchy McShuffleson?”

“You told me to walk like this!”

“Just act natural! You couldn’t be any more obvious about not being obvious right now.”

I groan and straighten up. “This is a bad idea. Let’s stuff me into a suitcase and—” The words die in my throat as magic crackles across my skin again.

It’s different this time—warmer, gentler, like a caress.

Heat blooms deep within my chest and radiates out to the rest of me. My lips tingle, my whole body humming.

It’s like I can sense her the same way I can sense the presence of magic—like my soul has a compass that points to her. Maybe it’s whatever force pulled me to her in the first place. Or that sixth sense in me is growing stronger, knowing she’s nearby before my other senses catch up.

I look around, and there she is.

She’s standing a few strides away with one hand tucked into the pocket of her dark jeans, the other fidgeting with the top button of her black shirt. Her mane of dark hair tumbles over her left shoulder, and her eyes… God, I’ve missed those brown eyes.

“Natalie,” I whisper, all my fears melting away.

She sees me, and though there’s a flash of confusion on her face as she takes in the cinched hood around my face, it quickly dissolves into a smile.

The world narrows to just her—the soft look in her eyes, the flex of her strong arms as she holds them out to wrap them around me…

My body aches with the need to feel her against me after all this time apart, to breathe in her scent and taste her lips again.

I start toward her, ready to throw myself at her and give her the hug and kiss I’ve been dreaming of.

But before I can reach her, another figure emerges from the crowd, steps away. Fiona. She’s in a shimmering red traveling cloak with her raven hair pulled into its usual bun. Her fists are clenched at her sides, and her narrowed gaze pins me in place.

Her low voice slices through the noisy airport like a blade. “Did you think we would forget what you cost us by freeing all that power, Miss Alexander?”

Natalie’s expression transforms in an instant, hardening into something dangerous. Purple bleeds into her irises like spilled ink. She pivots, becoming a barrier between Fiona and me.

“Stay behind me.” The words rumble from her chest.

A jolt of panic shoots through my veins, and I clench my fists. But while Natalie stands tall and confident, I can only hide behind her, powerless, wearing this borrowed sweatsuit that suddenly fits all wrong.

My nails dig into my palms. We were fools to think I could slip back into the coven as if I belong.

No matter what exists between Natalie and me, the gap remains—she’s a witch with an inborn place in the coven and years of service as a Guardian, and I’m just an outsider who can sense magic but never wield it. A human metal detector.

“Step aside, Natalie.” Fiona’s lips curl into a nasty smile that sends a chill through my bones. She raises her hands, earth magic crackling in the air. “The coven has waited long enough for this.”