Page 4 of Resting Witch Face
“You ready?” Sissily mumbled under her breath and dragged me out of my spinning thoughts.
“No.”
“Hazel.”
“Why does everyone think saying my name will help anything?” I jerked my elbow out of her pinching hold and tugged hard on the borrowed jacket to straighten it. My balance went sideways, and I pitched forward, but she tugged me back before I faceplanted. “Let me tell you, it does nothing but piss me off and feed me anxiety. I know what my name is. I’ve had it my whole life, thank you very much.”
“You’re stalling.”
“No.” I gasped dramatically. “What in the world gave you that idea?” Sissily rolled her blue peepers at me. “I really don’t want to go in. I might puke all over her desk.”
“You’re so stupid.” She snickered and bumped my shoulder. For her sake, my lips pulled to the side in a pathetic attempt at a smile.
With a sigh, I continued my impersonation of Quasimodo hobbling down the hall on one high-heeled boot and one bare foot, darting glances at the candelabras lining the walls. Black pillar candles burned in clusters with blue flames, the magical fire standing straight without a crackle or a flicker. They always looked like a painting that gave off light to me, and it didn’t matter how many times I saw them.
“They are expecting you.” We hadn’t fully rounded the corner yet, but Mike made sure to shout it like he was playing bingo and just won. He leered at Sissily, but as soon as he met my glare, his head ducked down so fast he almost headbutted the desk.
“I see you didn’t take your meds today, Mike?” I jabbed him conversationally, and Sissily snorted.
“What? Yes I did.” His face snapped up and reddened like a tomato. “Hey, I don’t take medication.”
I pursed my lips, eyeing him and pretending like I didn’t believe him.
Something told me if I kept looking at him his head might explode. I was willing to test that theory, but I felt Danika’s magic reaching, plus Sissily nudged me to get moving.
“Maybe you should.” My suggestion to the creep in passing left him sneering. “Meds won’t grow your brain, but it’ll help with your complexion.”
We left him stuttering and talking to himself about bitches and the Goddess knew what other fairytales he told himself. After he dared to treat my best friend like she was his personal punching bag while she dated him, I made it my business to mess him up every chance I had. I was pretty sure he cast a protection spell around himself specifically against me so I couldn’t physically harm him. Good thing, too, because I didn’t trust myself not to filet him like a fish.
I flung the door open without a knock and hobble-hopped inside my grandmother’s office with Sissily nipping on my heels. Stopping in my tracks, I took in the large, ornate-oak desk Danika Byrne sat ramrod straight behind. High priest Shadowblood was behind her right shoulder, his face pinched so tight it looked like he was trying not to fart. His slicked dark hair, long, thin nose, and pointed chin brought the image of a crow perched on my grandmother’s shoulder to my mind every time he did that, although I never dared mention it. But it wasn’t those two that made me freeze with one foot in the air and one hand gripping the doorknob.
No, it was the third person in the room just to the left of Danika. In his late twenties to mid-thirties, he was a face I’d never seen before between these walls. His blond hair was shaved close to his skull on the sides, with the top left longer to drape over his forehead in a wave. Eyes the color of melted chocolate flicked my way when I opened the door, and they widened in interest—not enough to be obvious, but since I was staring at him like an idiot, I noticed. A square jaw and a nose with a slight bump at the bridge like it had been broken a time or two framed full lips more suitable to a woman than someone like him. Wide shoulders stretched his indigo button-down shirt, which was tucked into the waistband of dark slacks that emphasized his narrow waist and muscular body. I gawked for less than five seconds, but it was enough for one corner of his mouth to twitch. That little quirk snapped me out of my daze.
Spinning around, I bolted out of the office and plowed Sissily down. She would’ve fallen on her ass if I didn’t catch her by the arm and drag her back out with me. The door closed behind us with a loud thump when I bodily carried her to the desk where Mike was still muttering curses at me.
“Give me your shoes.” My best friend squeaked when I plopped her ass on the desk.
“What? Why?”
“Shoes woman. Now.” My hand was wiggling in her face to show my urgency. “Questions later.”
I yanked them off her feet myself because I had no time to explain why having shoes instead of one boot—regardless of how pretty said boot may look—was so important. Lifting her leg up pushed Sissily until she was leaning on her hands, and if I wasn’t in a hurry I would’ve chortled at Mike’s face. Poor shmuck almost swallowed his tongue when he received a face full of a ponytail, and his saucer-like eyes told me he didn’t miss Sissily’s boobs sticking up from her arched back. I even stabbed her foot in my one boot because I was a good friend like that, and then I was yanking her along with me to enter the office for the second time. She’d probably replace my shampoo with glue to pay me back for this, but I’d deal with it later.
When I stepped back inside the office, my grandmother arched an eyebrow not looking very pleased, which I ignored, of course. Being the nice little witch I was, I waited for Sissily to limp inside before I closed the door and guided her to the closest chair. Her blue eyes were spitting daggers at me the whole time. As Sissily dropped on the uncomfortable chair, I went as far as petting her head like a puppy that did potty, ignoring her glare the entire time. Then, I turned and beamed at everyone in the room, giving my grandmother a pointed look towards blondie that said help a girl out but I had a feeling my plea fell on deaf ears.
“Hazel, what happened tonight?” Danika Byrne got down to business, stapling her fingers under her chin and leaning her forearms heavily on the desk. If looks could kill, Sissily would be reading my obituary right now.
Smile frozen on my face to flash my pearly whites, I widened my eyes at her. “What?” My lips didn’t move as I pushed the question through my teeth. My best friend groaned from the side.
“What in the Goddess’s name is wrong with you?” I swore lightning flashed in Danika’s emerald eyes. “Are you hurt? Did the demon do anything to you?”
“We don’t discuss coven business in front of strangers, Dani—I mean, Ma’am. Grandmother,” I added that last bit lamely as an afterthought, and the thunderous expression twisting her features told me she didn’t miss it.
“River Blackman is an apprentice of our high priest, Hazel.” She looked down her nose at me like I was supposed to be psychic and guess who was who around here without introduction. “There are no strangers.”
Wait, what?
“You can have your shoes back.” With a groan, I turned to Sissily and started tugging the shoes off my feet. I shoved them in her face, and she recoiled as if I’d thrown snakes at her.
