Simply Enchanting Read online

  I know I promised Mom that I’d try, and I have. Really, I have. My smart-mouth replies have been kept to a minimum and not one person has been changed into a newt.

  I should have a medal, or at the very least a gold star pinned to my corset. Maybe a plaque that says something about making it through half a school day without lashing out. Goddess knows I need it, because it’s the only way I’d get acknowledgement for that much.

  I let her words simmer for a second, while I consider how best to lash out. It’s because of her that I won’t make it through the entire day of playing along with Mom’s whims. She’s the reason I will surely get some sort of threat of grounding, and for that reason, she deserves a proper punishment.

  “Why don’t you leave Jazz to me, Jean. It sounds like we have a lot to talk about.”

  The male voice sends a chill up my spine. There’s power in it that makes me want to run my tongue along my teeth. If the grit from the elemental wasn’t still on them, I would do just that.

  Rather than turn to acknowledge my guest, who is standing directly behind me, I roll my eyes at Ellie and shoo her away. I never thought she was the top dog, but the influx of electricity behind me tells me that deep, scary voice probably is.

  Typical. Of course, a female wouldn’t have enough cajones to run things. With me on the scene, I may have to see if we can change that.

  Ellie briefly looks behind me before scampering away. The hostile anger she directed at me lifts slightly, and I see tendrils of submission that make me want to barf.

  “I’m surprised your mother brought you here, Periwinkle. I’ve heard she likes to save our kinds from the torture you tend to inflict.”

  I hope the growl at the use of my first name is enough to tell this joker his life is in jeopardy if he ever decides to use it again. I can’t say I’m scrambling, but my mind is firing off every detection method I can think of to figure out what the guy is. It doesn’t help that he’s decided to remain behind me. Sometimes a simple look is enough to know what I’m dealing with.

  I’d swear the guy is human, but I know it’s not possible. A human, even one gifted with a present from someone like me, can’t generate the pure power his words send trickling along my skin. I just want to wrap it around me and snuggle.

  “You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Sparky. What ya do? Look me up on Fae-net?”

  The dude’s laugh is just as bad as his voice. A small chuckle causes me to reach down and rub my left arm. The hairs on it are standing at attention, begging me to either use the power rushing to them or get away from it as fast as possible.

  “I know when you rolled up to the parking lot this morning that you thought the enchanter in you would make you the top dog among the Fae here.”

  He lets his words drift as he steps around my chair and takes the seat on my right. There are ten chairs at the table, so plenty of room to spread out, but I get the feeling he wants to make sure he gets his point across.

  I pretend not to be surprised that he’s the nerd from History, but my mouth still drops open slightly. Not so much because I recognize the haircut or shirt. It’s more the fact that nerd is the last thing I would use to describe him based on the bright blue eyes trained on me.

  Saying they are bright and blue doesn’t do them justice. Electric is a better word; color doesn’t matter in this case.

  I calm my breathing and try to get a hold of myself. It’s no wonder he hides behind the glasses and the geeky clothes. If the humans got a look at what I’m seeing, they’d be toast, possibly literally. I’ve never met one before, which is saying something, but I’m pretty sure Jimmy Poindexter is an angel.

  Literally.

  “I’m not saying you aren’t the most powerful person here,” he says, taking his glasses off so I get an even better look at the energy swirling in his eyes. “I just think it’s fair that I let you know there’s a chance you might not be.”

  “Where have you been all my life?”

  The question isn’t supposed to make it out of my mouth, but I don’t dare backpedal. For the first time, I wish my eyes were filled with facets. I don’t think they’d make me anymore attractive to the manboy in front of me, nor do I care to be, but they would help with whatever power struggle I feel on the horizon.

  Angels are millennia old, and they created the first enchanter. Having never met one before, I always assumed it’s a bunch of fiction. He hasn’t officially confirmed my suspicions, but there’s not much else he can be.

  “Look, I know it’s your first day, and you still have much to learn before the day is out, but it’s only fair to warn you that I won’t allow you to hurt anyone here.”

  He pauses for a second and puts his glasses back on. Looking over his shoulder, he sighs before turning back around.

  “I suppose that’s probably why your mother decided to come. She’s tired of being your only babysitter. Here, she’s got at least a handful of people to keep an eye on you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  I don’t care about his sexy eyes or power. Or the fact that he’s a million years older than me. No one treats me like some little kid.

  I lash out. It’s not everything I’ve got, but it’s a lot more than what I planned on sending towards Ellie. I don’t even bother to take the time to think about how good I’ve been or what I want to do with the power.

  Let me be perfectly clear. When I say I lash out, I’m not talking about doing some crazy hand motions to throw my power across the table. I just picture a giant hand smacking little Jimmy upside the head. The picture is pretty in my head, but a wave of Jimmy’s hand stops the impact.

  “When I said anyone, I’m pretty sure that includes me.”

  “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  I shrug and pretend something on my tray interests me. Since I’d rather eat a pot of dirt full of juicy worms, pretending is a feat beyond my skills.

  “Your tantrums are well-known, and as I said, they won’t be allowed here. This school is a safe place for Fae to learn their way around humans. We have a number of kids just coming into their abilities who need extra support.”

  I feel his eyes making holes in my body, but I refuse to look back at him. Plenty of questions are running through my head. I could start firing them off, but the obnoxious bell announcing the next class sounds through the lunchroom. A little time to let things digest sounds like a good idea, so I’m quick to leave the gross food and Jimmy behind, so I can find my next class.

  Chapter Seven

  Since the next two classes pretty much put me to sleep, I’ve decided to take a step back and fill you in on how things work in my world. At least the way I see things.

  Believe me, you aren’t missing out on anything in Biology and Chemistry. I’m sure eventually Chemistry will be a hoot, but fun chemical reactions aren’t a part of the first week apparently. I’m fairly certain no one in either class has Fae qualities. Jimmy quickly proved I’m not as skilled as I like to believe I am at picking those things up.

  Anyway, Jimmy is a good place to start. I’ve brought up Fae enough that you know they’re the things you’ve always imagined out there in the world grouped under a label. I hate labels. Fae isn’t necessarily one to hate, but it’s so vague it seems silly to use it.

  I’m ninety percent sure Jimmy is an angel. From our quick conversation, I’m certain there are more of his ilk lurking around. As much as I went on about how cool enchanters are when you joined me for this adventure, I suppose some would argue angels have a step up on us.

  It’s not something I enjoy admitting, but there are things even I can concede. Enchanters are generally considered the top of the food chain because we’re what made all the lesser Fae. Things like bloodsuckers and the millions of different shapeshifters out there came to be from a curse by one of us.

  The elemental folks are a product of an enchanter dabbling with a human. Obviously, that’s not something I recommend, but people do it.


  There’s a few dozen other classifications that I won’t tire you with. You’ll just have to trust that they all somewhere started with an enchanter either being bored, horny or mad.

  Angels are different. Like I already alluded to – okay, you’re right, there was no alluding. They supposedly made my kind. The story goes that we are created when they slept with humans. We’re talking females sleeping with human males here. Goddess help any human woman knocked up by an angel.

  I hear that guys still play around with sex with human partners, but the very few times the human in the equation got pregnant didn’t end up so well for said human. Birthing an enchanter, and just carrying them to full-term, isn’t something a woman can do without a little magic.

  I think it’s already been proven their standards are well below mine, and most enchanters. The way Jimmy was all about protecting “everyone” made it clear he’s chummy with the humans. The idea makes me cringe to even think about it, and I’m not even talking about him sleeping with one of them.

  As far as I know, angels don’t go around having babies often, and humans are their sole source of gene pools. I have no idea what’s wrong with them, but I guess I wouldn’t be here if one of them at one time didn’t lower their standards. That doesn’t mean I think the idea of getting busy with a human was the right move on their part.

  You’re kind not to point out the obvious here. If angels and humans getting together created enchanters, that means humans have been around longer than we have. I can do the math, even if I hate the subject.

  Just because something has been around longer, doesn’t mean it’s better. Think about an mp3 player compared to a phonograph. If you aren’t into music, how about a chariot versus the car out in your driveway? I know a chariot sounds cool, but how long is it going to take you to get to Aunt Myrtle’s six hundred miles away?

  If you want to be technical, humans are the chariots in the equation and enchanters are closer to jumbo jets, maybe even a space rocket of some sort. If you can understand that, you can see where my feelings towards humans come from.

  I suppose, you could be a human, and chances are you still don’t get it. The greater chances are that you’ve thrown my darling journal across the room and are trying to figure out a way to curse me. You’re going to have to stand in line, one that I’ve heard is pretty long.

  Thankfully for me, curses aren’t easy. I’d be dead if they were.

  That’s probably all the background you need as far as where we came from. Angels are supposedly the top of the ladder, but that’s sort of negotiable. Some people say enchanters are even stronger. Who in the world knows? It’s not like we’re having throw downs in the street to find out.

  Although, I’m sure it’s not hard to imagine I want to give it a go. I need to find an angel other than Jimmy to practice on. He feels like someone I need to work up to.

  What I really need to work on is putting a stop to all my rambling. I thought this book was supposed to compose the things rambling around in my head, but sometimes I think even it can’t figure out what’s going on. I can’t blame it, but I do feel the need to apologize for the chaos you sometimes find.

  Anyway, we’ve gotten pushed down a rabbit hole and have to dig our way back out. Chemistry is almost over, which only leaves Spanish class. It’s Advanced Spanish, but as someone who’s fluent in five languages, I’m not counting on engaging subject matter.

  I guess before we get back to reality, this is a good place to talk a little bit more about the council. We’re talking about my crazy world anyway.

  The Grand Council is made up of five enchanters, all of which have giant broomsticks shoved up their keisters. The last time I was in front of them, there were three women and two men. Unless one of them gets tired of being the law and order for all Fae kind, turnover is rare. I can’t recall a time when the crones and grumpy old men weren’t running things.

  What exactly do they do?

  Now, that’s a great question. If you find an answer to it, let me know.

  All I know is that they aren’t my biggest fans, and the feeling is mutual. Hopefully, I won’t run into them anytime soon, but you have been warned just in case.

  Okay, what else can I tell you in this downtime? Have I mentioned I hate this whole school thing?

  I knew going into it that it wouldn’t go over well. I let myself think that with Fae around it would be interesting. I’m known for setting myself up for disappointment, and frankly, I’m getting tired of it.

  Let’s get back to digging ourselves out of the rabbit hole. I promise to not find too many of them, but I’m telling you now that there sure do seem to be rabbits everywhere in good ol’ Newberry.

  I should be happy about the chance to have the power the rest of the Fae put at my fingertips. And yet, I’ve only attempted to use it once, and I think we all remember how well that went.

  I’m starting to feel kind of morose. Maybe it’s not morose. I just feel like someone else has taken over my body. I’m not using my environment to my full advantage. Even with the knowledge that angels could be lurking anywhere, I should be ruling the classes I’m in instead of just moping through them.

  We’re not talking about me turning into the most popular kid in school and being queen bee. I should be doing something to keep the boredom at bay. It’s usually easy to find something to amuse myself. Some would say I’m even an expert as far as that’s concerned. There’s something keeping me from playing, even more so than an angel who thinks he’s king of the world.

  As I’ve been busy trying to acclimate myself to my surroundings, I’ve neglected to feel the air around me. I’ve reached out to sense the other Fae I can but haven’t picked up on the bitter taste in the air. I should kick myself for going hours without noticing someone must have Angelica planted in every corner of the school.

  I don’t dabble in herbs – that’s something most enchanters leave to the elementals – but I know the uses for most of them. Rosemary isn’t just for adding to chicken, like most humans would think. It’s not important what else it can do, since we’re talking about Angelica here. I just thought I should point that out.

  Angelica is somewhat mild on the scale of elemental herbology. It dampens my powers slightly, not enough that I can’t do damage if I really want to, but more than enough to piss me off. It takes energy I don’t feel like wasting to work around it, and I hate working up a sweat. I have to think that since I’m the only enchanter roaming the halls, it was planted with me in mind.

  Don’t get me wrong, it effects other supernatural beings. They probably feel calmer when they’re in the haze of the Angelica. Other than soothing a shapeshifter’s temper, I doubt it hinders anyone like it can me. If I let it.

  Before I can decide how to punish those around me for the atrocity performed against me, the annoying ring of the buzzer calling class to an end echoes through the building. I’m happy to take my initial anger at being artificially controlled out on the buzzer.

  One second, it’s doing the usual crackling ringing. The next, a loud pop deafens the noise and the speaker in the ceiling in the front of the room falls to the ground. You’re going to think it’s childish, but I feel infinitely better having done something.

  There are a few startled gasps, and Mrs. Patrick loses the tight composure she’d held while reviewing the periodic table. The pointer in her hand drops to the floor, and I see a flick of her long hair as she darts to the corner of the room away from the crash site.

  Yes, I have to say I feel much better. While everyone else is still somewhat shocked about the turn of events, I stand and gather my things. There’s only one class left, and I think I’ll spend it figuring out ways to punish my mother for deciding school is where I should be.

  That should keep me occupied, but if it doesn’t, there’s always an angel that I can think about dismembering. The notion puts a smile on my face as I walk out of the room. It’s been forever since I honestly thought about tearing someone apart limb
by limb, way too long.

  Chapter Eight

  I make it about ten feet down the hall before anyone bothers me. The other classes weren’t stunned to stillness, so students are out in the halls. As it’s been every other time between classes, I am for the most part ignored.

  Don’t get me wrong, I see the sideways glances in my direction. No one is bold enough to come towards me, though. At least not until the male voice directly behind me speaks up.

  “Was that really necessary? I’ve heard rumors about your temper, but attacking the poor defenseless intercom seems beneath you.”

  The accent is so out of place. I’m not in the smallest town in the world, and I know there are others about who are at least pushing my age, but hearing the Scottish accent prompts me to shake my head and consider whether I’m hearing things.

  I’ve heard just about every accent there is, and a little Scottish lilt happens to be in my top five turn-ons. Obviously, I’m not going to let on that the hairs on my arms immediately stand at attention. I didn’t ask to be wired the way I am. Honestly, what woman doesn’t have some kind of reaction to a deep accent that instantly brings to mind pictures of guys in kilts, wielding broadswords in battle?

  “Why on earth would you think I did something like that?”

  Turning around slowly, I temper all percolating expectations. Unless he’s another angel, Scotty is on the human side of the spectrum. That doesn’t mesh with the words coming out of his mouth, but I’m hoping to not have a second run-in with an angel full of himself.

  Ouch. I bite my lip hard to keep from letting a content murmur sneak out of my lips. I had only given myself a second to consider what he’d look like, but I hoped acne pitted his face and his hair appeared to have enough oil in it to fry onion rings.

  Scotty isn’t some teenager with puberty rushing through his veins. The teenager part of the equation rings true, maybe. There’s a light in his eyes indicating he’s either not all there in the head or he hasn’t lived long enough to have at least a few of his dreams shattered.