Page 16 of Hex Appeal

"It doesn't matter."He turned away, shoulders tense enough to crack walnuts."The hex isn't approved for curriculum use.End of discussion."

"Mal."His nickname slipped out before she could stop it, soft and concerned rather than professional."What happened?"

"Not relevant to this discussion."His voice was pure principal again, but she heard the strain beneath it, like a bridge creaking under too much weight."The hex is too dangerous for student use."

"Students need real defensive options."She stepped around his desk, drawn by that hint of vulnerability."Yes, there are risks.But isn't it better they learn properly?With careful instruction and proper safeguards?"

"Not this spell."But he didn't step back as she moved closer, which she counted as a small victory.

"Why not?What makes this one different?"She was close enough now to see the conflict in his eyes, to feel the tension radiating from him."Help me understand."

"I can't—" His tie loosened slightly, the magical equivalent of a sigh."This isn't about understanding.It's about safety."

"It's about something more than that."Her hand touched his arm, feeling the warmth beneath his jacket sleeve."Something you're not telling me."

For a moment, the professional masks slipped away completely.He looked at her the way he had at The Crooked Wand, when they'd debated magical theory until dawn—like she was both the most exasperating and fascinating person he'd ever met.Her hair shifted to the exact shade of their first kiss, and neither of them pretended not to notice.

"The hex is not approved for curriculum," he said finally, stepping back with obvious reluctance."That's final."

Her hair flashed frustration-red, but she gathered her research with rigid control."Then I'll find another way."

***

CERIES LEFT HIS OFFICE, her charm bracelet sending one last hopeful spark toward his watch chain, which leaned pathetically in her direction like a lovesick teenager.Malachai straightened his desk mechanically, trying to ignore how her scent lingered, how her passionate arguments still rang in his ears.

They were both in serious trouble.Because despite their fundamental disagreement about the hex, despite the professional boundaries they needed to maintain...

He still wanted to debate magical theory with her until her hair turned that perfect shade of passionate conviction.Still wanted to kiss that stubborn determination right off her face.Still found himself wondering if her hair would shift colors when they—

No.Absolutely not.Professional thoughts only.

A paper fluttered off his desk—her research notes, covered in enthusiasm and innovative ideas and that damned compelling logic that had gotten under his skin at the pub.And possibly a few tiny hearts that her quill had added when she wasn't looking.

Against his better judgment, he started reading.Her modifications to the hex were brilliant.She'd accounted for common mistakes, added fail-safes he'd never considered.The response time charts showed exactly how those crucial extra seconds could save lives in real emergencies.

But she hadn't seen what he had.Hadn't watched a student's showing off turn into mass panic.Hadn't spent weeks visiting hospital beds, knowing it was his fault for thinking he could control the uncontrollable.

A knock interrupted his brooding.Juno came in, took one look at his face, and closed the door with the air of someone preparing for emotional triage.

"Your new hexes teacher just stormed past my classroom," she said, settling into a chair."Her hair was cycling through about twelve different shades of fury, and I'm pretty sure her bracelet was spelling out obscenities in Morse code."

"We had a professional disagreement about curriculum."He straightened an already straight ink bottle, the desk equivalent of whistling innocently.

"Mm-hmm.That's why your tie looks like it's trying to strangle you and your watch chain is pointing at her classroom like a love-struck compass?I haven't seen magical accessories this besotted since Professor Vector's calculator started writing sonnets."

"She wants to teach the Bewildering Fog Hex."

Juno's easy manner vanished faster than free food in the teacher's lounge."Ah."

"She has protocols.Safety measures.Brilliant modifications that almost make it seem possible."He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up in a way that would have horrified him if he'd had a mirror."But it's still too dangerous.Too unpredictable."

"Too much like Windermoore?"

"We don't discuss that."He needed to shut that conversation down faster than a vampire slathering on SFF 100 at sunrise.

"Maybe you should.With her."Juno gestured at Ceries's scattered research, which was attempting to reorganize itself in a more compelling order."She clearly understands the theory.And from what I've seen of her teaching, she can pull it off."

"What you've seen," he said sharply, "is exactly the problem.She's brilliant.Engaging.Makes everything seem possible.Makes you believe you can control—" He cut himself off, but not before Juno caught his meaning.

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