Page 7 of Hex Appeal

Professional thoughts.Professional, serious, not-at-all-inappropriate thoughts.

Her hair turned the color of complete professional disaster.

"Interesting shade," Diana commented as they filed out of the assembly hall."I don't think I've ever seen quite that combination of catastrophe crimson and mortification mauve before.It's almost artistic."

"I'm simply excited to start teaching," Ceries said with as much dignity as someone whose hair was broadcasting her emotional state in technicolor could manage.

"Mm-hmm."Diana's knowing look could have won awards for eloquent skepticism."Well, this should be an interesting year."

"'So Headmistress Raven handles the board and external affairs while Principal Starcatcher manages day-to-day operations?'Ceries asked, trying to understand the power structure.

“Precisely,” Diana nodded.'Though Raven has final say on all matters.She's been investigating something lately—keeps disappearing for days at a time.Very mysterious.'"

Behind them, Thorncraft was saying something to Principal Starcatcher about "implementing progressive teaching methods" and "shaking up the old guard."Trustee Thorncraft had seemed deeply invested in her teaching methods during the interview, asking specific questions about her approach to protective hexes.At the time, she'd taken it as genuine academic interest.Now she wondered if he'd been looking for someone to shake things up—or cause trouble.Ceries didn't dare look back, but she could practically feel the tension radiating from her new boss.

Her boss.Who she'd kissed senseless less than twelve hours ago.Who currently had possession of her favorite magical accessory.

Professional witches didn't do the walk of shame.But apparently, they did speed-walk away from their new boss while their hair broadcast their panic to the entire faculty.

Well.At least the year couldn't get any more awkward than this.

"Diana, can you escort Professor Frostwind to my office?I'll be there momentarily."

The universe, it seemed, enjoyed a good challenge.After refusing Diana's offer for coffee (her nerves were already performing an elaborate gymnastics routine without caffeine), Ceries sat in a comfortable leather chair to await her doom.She counted the inkwells on Principal Starcatcher's desk for the third time.Fourteen.Arranged by size, shade, and (she'd bet her missing favorite spellbook) alphabetically by ink manufacturer.

The man was even more organized than she'd teased him about being.Which was saying something, considering she'd spent a good portion of last night making increasingly creative jokes about his methodical nature, right up until he'd proven that precision and attention to detail had some very compelling applications in contexts that were absolutely inappropriate to remember in his office.

Taking a deep breath, she strove for inner peace.She was here for her new teacher orientation.They could both be adults about this.They could pretend last night never happened.They could maintain professional boundaries.

Her hair didn't believe this for a second, shifting traitorously to a shade she'd never seen before—something between wistful remembrance and hopeful anticipation.

She really needed this job.After being asked to leave Pendragon Academy for 'excessive creative interpretation of the curriculum' and flat-out fired from Frog’s Hollow High School for 'endangering students with unauthorized defensive techniques' (which had actuallysaveda student from a rogue troll), Grimm Mawr was possibly her last chance at a respectable teaching position.

Hexes were unpredictable.

But they were her specialty.

The door opened.Ceries's hair cycled through three different shades of panic before settling on a desperate attempt at professional auburn.

"Well, this was a surprise."Principal Starcatcher strode in, all crisp lines and perfect posture.No hint that less than twenty-four hours ago he'd been kissing her senseless while debating the merits of practical versus theoretical magical education.

"For me too."She was proud of how steady her voice stayed, even as her hair betrayed her with a flash of remembrance pink.

"I believe this belongs to you."

They both stared at the bracelet, which had thoroughly entangled itself with his watch chain in a way that looked suspiciously deliberate.

"It's usually better behaved," Ceries said, though this was a blatant lie.Her magical accessories had always had a flair for the dramatic.

He attempted to detach it.The bracelet tightened its grip on his watch chain like a silver octopus that had found its true love."Perhaps if you..."

She reached for it.Their fingers brushed.Magic sparked between them—literally, as the charm bracelet celebrated their joint touch by shooting silver fireworks toward the ceiling.Several of his perfectly arranged papers ruffled in response, reorganizing themselves into what looked suspiciously like a heart.

"Sorry."Ceries snatched her hand back.

One of his eyebrows arched.That eyebrow.The one that had driven her crazy at the pub with its judgmental perfection.Her hair betrayed her by turning the exact shade of how much she'd wanted to kiss that look off his face last night (and succeeded, repeatedly).

"Shall we try again?"he suggested, his professional tone slightly strained."Together?"

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