Page 6 of Resting Witch Face
That bitch bit.
3
“Hazel?”
Sissily’s tone was low when she hissed my name, but in the silence of the library, it boomed like a gun going off next to my ear. My head jerked up for no reason at all since I knew she’d be coming to join me. The back of my skull connected with the thick wooden shelf above me with a dull heavy thud, which made dark roses bloom at the corners of my eyes as I crawled backward, extracting myself from my hidey hole. I had no doubt my best friend had a perfect view of my ass sticking up in the air while I wiggled my way out, but my glare made sure any comment she had stayed behind her closed mouth.
Her lips stayed pressed closed for exactly thirty seconds. Tops.
“I still don’t understand why you had to take my shoes,” Sissily grumbled under her breath, still stuck on the same thing two days later as she handed me a stack of ancient texts we had to catalogue. Courtesy of the Kishi demon I nailed with my poor ankle boot.
“That should be your answer.” Her elbow connected with my side, forcing me to grunt. Exasperated, I huffed, shaking the books in my hands at her face. “You can’t understand why you would need to leave a good first impression because you have magic, woman. That’s all a guy in our world needs to feel and he gets the googly eyes. I, on the other hand, don’t have magic. Apart from the respect I receive around here …”
“That’s not respect, Hazel. They’re afraid of you. There is a difference,” she told me so calmly you’d think she just gave me a compliment.
“That’s beside the point. As I was saying, I only have the respect, so I have to make a good impression with my sense of style, too.” We both knew I was talking smack. If I stopped doing that, I would have to curl up in a ball and start rocking back and forth.
“I still don’t get the shoes.”
“Hecate help me, would you stop with the damned shoes? I didn’t want to limp on one boot like a dumbass in front of a hottie, okay? How was I to know blondie was one of Grandmother’s pawns?” Admitting my vanity was never easy, although she knew me better than I knew myself.
“He is easy on the eyes, I’ll give you that.” A smile ghosted her mouth, and she bumped me with her shoulder while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Great. Have at it because he is all yours. In the meantime, grab that stack of books over there.” Pointing my chin at the pile ready to tip over, I pushed the last book in my hands on the shelf between two others.
In a normal life, when someone told you that you’d be cleaning a library, you’d expect rows of books lining the walls and pretty tables with single little lamps where people could read in peace and quiet. Since nothing was as it should be in this place, half of the vast room was packed with jars full of floating eyeballs, teeth, fingers, or other body parts I tried very hard not to pay too close attention to. A shiver raked my spine, and my friend noticed.
“Ignore those, I’ll fix them up.” Sissily allowed me to keep my dignity because we both knew I’d end up begging her to do it so I didn’t have to touch them. “I honestly don’t know why you insist that everyone thinks you are this mean little shit when you have a heart of gold.” She shuffled back to me with an armful of tomes, not missing my grimace. “You can say whatever you want, but I know you.”
“I should kill you so you keep my secret, then.” I snatched the books, turning my back so she didn’t see the tears that prickled the back of my eyes.
“Do try, I’m begging you,” my friend purred, cocking her hip.
Sissily was the strongest witch in our coven after Danika and Shadowblood. She had every right to be cocky, and for the life of me, up to this day, I couldn’t tell why she chose me to be best friends with. By doing that, she made sure her name was whispered behind our backs by all the petty witches in our community, too. A fact that rubbed me wrong on so many levels and made me bare my teeth at everyone, while she couldn’t care less about the gossip mill. Regardless of what she said, it was her with the heart of gold, taking strays—or duds as it was in my case—under her protection. Covenmates tried using their magic against me at the beginning, knowing I couldn’t fight back the same way, until she unleashed ropes of fire and sent a few of them to the infirmary with third-degree burns. Danika was ready to peel the skin off her bones until she walked in and saw us with arms wrapped around each other, jutting our chins at her in defiance. After a long, loaded look, my grandmother’s mouth twitched at the edges and she walked away without a word. We were four at the time, and since that day, we’d been glued at the hip. Unfortunately for my friend, that meant she got in a lot of trouble because of me. I had no magic, but I had fists.
“Do I look dumb to you?” I pointed at myself. “I didn’t think so.”
Sissily giggled and walked to the floor-to-ceiling shelves full of jars across from where I was standing. “How much longer do you think she will hold us here?” In jeans, a t-shirt, and with her hair in a ponytail, she looked comfy, unlike me in my skirt and blouse.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly on a sigh. “If I kept my mouth shut, we may have gone without punishment, but I just couldn’t let that go. I swear sometimes I think Danika says things on purpose because she knows I’ll react. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she rubs salt in an open wound when she needs both of us out of her way.”
“What do you mean?” Sissily twisted toward me, hugging a jar full of imp fingers to her chest.
I sawed my teeth over my lower lip, contemplating if I should voice my thoughts or keep my mouth shut. When her blue eyes narrowed on me, I knew I better speak up or she’d never let it go. My best friend was as stubborn as a mule.
“She knows that not having magic is a sore subject for me.” Eyes darting around to make sure no one was around, I took a couple of steps closer to her, keeping my tone low. “It’s a sore subject for her, too, since I’ve heard her raging about idiots and how they didn’t value their lives because they treated me like I was nothing. So why else would she slap my lack of magic in my face unless she wanted me punished and out of her way?”
I could almost hear the gears turning in Sissily’s head. The corners of her mouth slanted slightly down, and the edges of her eyes narrowed. She had her thinking face on while her eyes searched mine.
“Every time I’m punished, you are in the same boat, too …” I trailed off.
“In the last seven to eight months, more so then ever.” Sissily nodded, the jars completely forgotten.
“Well, now that you mention it, yeah.” Frowning, I ignored the unease swirling inside me. Witches came to their full potential of power at the age of twenty-three, which for both of us was a few years ago. My best friend and I had our birthdays three days apart, and we were both twenty-six now, so that couldn’t be the reason for Danika tucking us away more often than usual. “I can’t think of a reason—”
“I can.” Plonking the jar with a loud thump, Sissily snatched my hand and dragged me deeper between the rows of books. “About nine months ago, the other covens called a meeting in Atlanta. Do you remember?” She waited for my head to dip in confirmation before continuing. “According to Mike—”
“You still talk to that douchebag?” My mouth closed shut with a snap when she shot me a glare.
