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“You’re going on a date?” Raven squawked.
“It’s not a date. It’s...” Ella searched her mind for an explanation. “It’s a folk music concert, really low-key, outdoors, local bands.”
She turned back and forth in the mirror to assess her outfit. It was a dress she’d always liked, off the shoulder, cream-colored with black trim, and ended just above her knees. The light fabric was made to keep a mortal wearer cool in the oppressive Arizona heat.
Ella tilted her head from side to side. “Does this need something else, like a necklace or a hat?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “For a not-date with a mortal, you certainly know how to obsess about how you look.”
Of all the things Raven could have said to her, that was the worst. Ella wasn’t supposed to feel “seen,” as the humans put it. She was supposed to breeze into that concert, keep her cool, and do her job. It was the perfect way to continue observing her charge without arousing suspicion.
Unfortunately, she had learned many things since her entry into the human world, including the fact that she was just as susceptible to emotions as the people around her. It was inconvenient, to say the least. A faerie godmother was supposed to remain dispassionate and focused on the end goal—making sure mortal women got what they needed in life. In Addison’s case, she had to make the woman slow down. Otherwise, she would be susceptible to some kind of bad influence that would push her down the wrong path.
Why the witches were interested in her, Ella had no idea. Maybe she would find out more tonight. She picked up a wide-brimmed hat and placed it over her long, flowing blonde waves.
“Yes, wear the hat,” Raven said.
“Are you sure?” Ella narrowed her eyes in one last critical examination of her reflection.
“Yeah, you look basic. You’ll blend in perfectly with the humans.”
Ella tried to remember if “basic” was an insult or a compliment. Since she doubted Raven’s ability to say something remotely nice, she raised her middle finger and teleported to the location Addison had given her before Raven could respond.
No one seemed to notice her appearing in their midst, probably because there was already a jostling crowd of people clamoring for either music or hot dogs or some other vendor nearby. Some people were calling to each other, hugging, squealing with joy at finding a friend. That kind of excitement at seeing a familiar face made Ella miss the Academy, where she had spent the formative years of her adolescence.
She squared her shoulders and glanced around, hoping to find Addison. Faerie godmothers sometimes bonded with their charges and could find them anywhere. In some cases, they even felt what their charge felt or shared their thoughts. Ella didn’t know Addison well enough for that to happen, and her case seemed uncomplicated enough that such a phenomenon wouldn’t occur.
Ella still hadn’t quite gotten over the feeling that this case was a total softball. It didn’t make sense. Help someone relax? Figure out why a witch was interested in her, as well? She narrowed her eyes as her gaze flicked over the crowd. Too many things didn’t add up. Then again—
“Hi there!”
“Oh, pixie wings!” Ella jumped and pressed her hands to her chest. When she turned, Addison was behind her, smiling down at her.
“Oh no, I’m sorry for scaring you.” Addison’s expression softened with contrition, while Ella gulped in a breath.
As her pounding heart calmed, Ella shook her head. “No, no, I should have expected you to pop up sooner or later. I guess I’m not used to people popping out of nowhere behind me.”
“Again, sorry about that.” Music filled the air and Addison tilted her head toward the stage. “Do you want to go see who’s about to play?”
Ella glanced down as Addison extended her hand, an offer she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. The woman’s palm was soft and warm beneath hers, and their fingers fit together like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. Despite the heat in the Arizona air, a cool tingle raced through her. There was no way Ella could get through this night without letting it become the one thing she’d said she couldn’t do.
Addison threaded through the crowd, leading the way. Ella wasn’t accustomed to following, but it felt right to let her charge guide her. She focused instead on Addison’s outfit. The long, asymmetrical sundress enhanced the curves of her body with strategically-placed ruffles meant to draw attention to Addison’s breasts and hips.
Each step brought them closer to the stage, out of the crowd that remained thick behind them. Each step also made Ella’s breath hitch with longing. The longer this woman led her forward, the more Ella wanted her. Breaking all the rules would be too easy with someone like Addison.
“This looks like a nice spot. Why don’t we sit here?” Addison gestured to the ground with her other hand. It was a hard-looking patch of dirt and Ella wasn’t sure what was so nice about it. But Addison unfurled a blanket she’d had dangling from her other hand, sat on it, and patted the fabric next to her.
Ella sank down onto the blanket, crossing her legs under her as she went. It was soft and fuzzy, the kind of blanket that picked up burrs and leaves, and would probably never look like new again thanks to dried-up bits of plant. It was an imperfect piece of Addison, one that spoke volumes.
“That was a funny thing to say when I scared you.”
“Hm?” Ella looked up from her contemplation of the blanket. She’d been petting it like a cat.
“When I scared you, you said ‘pixie wings.’ Is that some kind of new euphemism I’ve never heard?”
Ella bit her lower lip and sat on her hands, so she wouldn’t smack herself in the forehead. “No, it was the first thing that came to mind. It just slipped out.”
That wasn’t true. Faerie godmothers didn’t swear, unless they picked up the habit from humans, witches, shifters, and others. It didn’t count against them, of course, but words had power and Ella had always tried to weigh hers with care. Raven seemed far less concerned about it. She let curse words fly with impunity and still seemed delighted by them, like a child who’d just discovered something naughty.
“That’s a funny thing to say. Were you raised in a strict religious family?”
Ella couldn’t help but giggle at the idea. “Not exactly, no, but I’ve always put a great deal of consideration into what I say. It’s not worth it to hurt feelings by being careless about what I say. Anyway, what about you?”
“What about...?” Addison’s brow furrowed. “Was I raised in a religious family?”
Since Ella hadn’t been quite sure what she meant by asking the question, she nodded.
Addison picked at some stray blades of grass stuck to the blanket. “Yes and no. My dad is white and my mom is Mexican. They weren’t strict about raising me, but they had some loosely Catholic views mixed with... Well, do you know what bruja means?”
The word tickled at the edges of Ella’s memories, but didn’t quite resonate with her. She shook her head.
“I guess the best way to explain it is, well, what I do now. It’s a Latin American-specific practice of witchcraft. I followed in their steps, minus the Catholic aspect. Some people seem to think it’s a darker way of practicing witchcraft—you know, not the ‘love and light’ beliefs of Wiccans. But every set of beliefs goes deeper than what people see on the surface. It’s easy to be frightened of what you don’t understand.” Addison hesitated and grinned sheepishly. “I’m talking too much.”
“Not at all. It’s...” Ella had been holding her breath, listening and waiting to hear more. “You’re right. The things we don’t understand are often scary, until we dig deeper. I know what you mean.”
This woman was making Ella’s head spin, not just with her beauty and kindness, but also her insightfulness. Of course, humanity took all kinds, and the bulk of Ella’s experience had been with women seeking a knight on a white steed, someone to rescue them from their humdrum lives. That wasn’t what they generally got, once Ella came into the picture. No, she always helped them find fulfillment in other ways. She could count on one hand the number of charges she’d been assigned to help find love. The rest of them may have thought that was the answer to their problems, but it almost always turned out to be something else, something Ella thought would make them happier in the long run, anyway.
Addison didn’t seem like a woman who would be satisfied with just any romantic partner. However, she also didn’t seem to think love was the answer to anything in life. No matter what her file said, she also appeared to be perfectly capable of relaxing, of slowing down and smelling the roses.
She bobbed to the music, swayed back and forth, nodded her head in time to the beat. “I love this band. What do you think?”
Folk music was new to Ella. Usually, she had to endure the screeching death metal Raven liked to listen to, or meandering New Age music with crystals and windchimes in the background, the stuff Morgan played almost all day long in the house.
Since Ella hadn’t really formed her own taste in music, beyond knowing she didn’t like what her fellow faerie godmothers listened to, she closed her eyes and let herself focus on the song. A bit of acoustic guitar, drums, clear vocals, and simple lyrics. Yes, she liked this.
“They’re really good. I don’t listen to much music, so it’s nice to hear something new.”
“Don’t listen to much music?” Addison repeated, disbelief lifting the syllables.
“I mean, that is, I have roommates and they listen to music. They listen to it a lot, but I haven’t found anything I really like, myself. Nothing that suits me, you know?”
Addison stared at her, mouth open and eyes wide. “What about when you were a kid?”
“Uh...” Ella tried to figure out the best way to answer that question. The music where she came from was much the same as what Morgan liked, instrumental with the tinkling of crystal and wind chimes. “I grew up in kind of a different household, so we listened to a lot of, you know, world music or whatever you would call it.”
“Ah, let me guess—hippie types who drove you crazy with their love and peace stuff, when all you wanted was to be a cheerleader?”
Cheerleaders were something Ella had only seen in movies and the thought that Addison imagined her as one made her cringe. “I wasn’t one of those. I couldn’t be one of those, no. Anyway, I like this music and this event. It’s different.”
“This event.” Addison tilted her head, a lovely blush making her cheeks pink. “You talk so funny, like you’re from a different time and place. You know that?”
Ella glanced away, searching the ground for something to point out as a distraction. “Uh, I guess I sound stupid.”
“No, of course you don’t! It’s not stupid. It’s charming.”
Ella wanted to point out that things dubbed charming rarely lived up to the adjective, but she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. This was more awkward than she’d anticipated. Not that she’d ever cozied up to any of her previous charges. All of those assignments had been straightforward.
This was a challenge, which made sense since the first year of her apprenticeship was coming to a close. Part of the problem was, well, she still couldn’t see the problem in Addison’s life. So what if the woman worked hard? That didn’t seem like an issue.
Ella glanced around at the crowd, then over her shoulder at the concessions area. Addison was talking, but Ella didn’t hear a word she was saying. Because there was Anthea, yet again. The witch was laughing with a woman with violet hair and nodding in Ella’s direction.
“Excuse me.” Ella pushed herself to her feet and strode toward Anthea and her companion. “Aren’t you in the wrong place? Shouldn’t you be at a ritual sticking pins in a doll or something?”
“Oh look, it’s the cute little fluffy bunny,” Anthea sniped. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not on my job, no.” Ella folded her arms and glared at the witch. The violet-haired woman also gave off a supernatural vibe, and Ella wondered if they were both part of the same coven.
Anthea propped her hand on her hip with a smirk. “Neither do I, so I guess two can play at this game.”
“And what game is that?”
“The who-gets-Addison game. Naturally, she’s allowed to make her own choice, but don’t be surprised if she’s called to our coven’s path.” Anthea leaned forward and whispered, “It’s in her blood.”
Ella turned and glanced at Addison, who was watching their exchange from the blanket.
Understanding blossomed like fire in her chest.
Great. Not only did she have her lust to reckon with, but now a witch. No, two or three or thirteen witches, at least one of whom was now Ella’s responsibility.
Ella squinted at Addison.
Did the woman not know what she was? As quickly as questions flashed through Ella’s mind, realizations followed. The first was that Addison wasn’t human, which meant the lust thing wasn’t an issue anymore. The second was that she also didn’t know she was a witch—at least, not in the supernatural sense—meaning...
Ella widened her eyes, unable to catch her breath. This was a test, alright, but not of her self-control or her ability to help a human find her true love, or anything at all like that.
This was a test to determine if she had sufficient ability to encourage Addison to choose the right side, to keep her off the wrong path.
And if that meant a fight with an entire coven, Ella wondered if this was a test she would fail for once.