Big-city witches might deny that Hillfort, Maine was a city at all, but it was by technicality. That's where I was born and raised. It had a majority population of witches, but there was a random sprinkle of Mundane within the towering evergreens. Thankfully, their numbers were small. Small enough that I didn't have to worry about the laws of protection regarding the Mundane.
We pulled down the long driveway to my parents' house, which appeared smaller than it was due to the compact design of the old Victorian. It stood complete with a turret and a wrap-around porch. The subdued colors of the bricks paired well with the white trims and simple, black shingles.
The driver pulled to a stop at the house's front and exited the car.
"I should warn you," I said from beside Lucien, earning his full attention. "We're very Mundane."
"That is no problem."
My door opened. I unbuckled my seat-belt, surprised the driver would go so far, and climbed out. "Thanks."
Lucien exited next and handed the driver an envelope. "Acquire lodging for the night."
"Yes, sir." The driver shut the door and slipped the envelope into his vest pocket.
"It's not too late to run," I said, staring at the black door at the top of the narrow stair.
"That is ridiculous. Lead the way."
Ridiculous? He had no idea what manner of ridiculous awaited him. Grudgingly, I climbed the steps. The door swung open on its own and Mom stepped out, her lips parting into a massive smile as she approached. She engulfed me in a crushing hug and squealed in my ear. It took only a moment for her to pull away with a scrutinizing stare.
"Have you been eating well? You've put on some weight."
"Mom!" My cheeks burned as I glanced awkwardly at Lucien. "Not now, please."
"Oh, of course!" Facing Lucien, Mom giggled and wrapped her arm around his. "Forgive me. Welcome to our home, please come in." I followed after, trying not to think that she was happier to see Lucien Lacroix than her own daughter.
The door clicked shut as I leaned upon it, mentally preparing myself for the chaos that would follow. I turned my gaze to the staircase on the right side of the hallway. My colorful imagination suggested I hike the stairs and climb into bed, allowing the pieces to fall where they may. It gave me a snicker but Goddess only knows what my mother would tell Lucien if I were absent.
Crossing the creaky hallway, I turned left into the living room. The opened curtains allowed the gloomy light from outside to splash over the dark walls. Lucien took a seat fully at ease on the modern, red sofa beside Mom. Dad sat in an arm-chair.
Sinking into the other chair, I slid my shoes off and pulled my feet up so I sat crisscrossed.
"This is all so shocking," Mom said, giggling into her hand. She looked from him to me and back. "Oh, you would be surprised to hear how adamant she used to be against marriage. With her curse, my husband and I always worried how she'd get on by herself. We attempted to, um, make arrangements but they never held up—"
"Mom, I doubt he wants to hear about this."
A phony smile slid over Lucien's usually stoic exterior. "Please, speak freely."
What was he doing? I sank deeper into the chair, forgoing my posture, and dropped my face into my hands.
"Oh, so charming." Mom giggled. "Our Vera is so independent and driven. Never one for friends or romance. That she relies on you at all speaks volumes in your favor."
Scoffing, I lifted my face so that I could glare at Mom—not that she noticed.
"I must apologize for how it came to be," Lucien said, looking between my parents. "It is a family matter that drew her into danger. I only realized too late what the intentions were. Please rest assured, I will keep Vera in good health."
"No need to apologize," Dad said, leaning forward. "The headmaster told us you've been keeping her out of trouble already. Much appreciated. She has a way of finding dangerous situations."
I frowned, taking full offence. The only dangerous situation I found myself in prior to the Sages was the day I was cursed. Even then, it wasn't like I went out of my way to find adventure.
"I have noticed that trouble seeks her out," Lucien said dryly. I met his stare as he looked my way. "But if I may be forthright, Vera has shown herself quite versatile in dealing with these dangers. Has she informed you of the events of the festival?"
"No," Dad said, squinting at me.
Oh, great. I stared determinedly at the floor.
"Our Vera never writes home." Mom leaned toward him and gripped her knees. "Please tell us. It would be lovely to hear how she is at school."
The doorbell rang. Saved.
Dad stood. "I'll get it."
The room became quiet as he greeted our visitor. "Collins? You're Teressa's boy, right? Come in."
"Oh, no," I whispered, panic forcing my heart to race. Did I say saved? This was the exact opposite.
"Vera," Dad said, joining us in the living room. "You never said you were friends with Teressa's boy."
"Oh, our friendship is recent, sir," Rhett said. A stab of guilt gouged into my heart when he came around the corner all smiles. He froze as he laid eyes on Lucien. "Uh, Professor?"
Lucien nodded. "Mr. Collins."
I could see the cogs working in Rhett's mind. When his eyes widened, I stood. It wouldn't do for him to come to a bunch of conclusions on his own. He should at least hear it from me. "Mom, Dad, why don't you get to know Lacroix. I'm going to speak with Rhett on the porch."
Rhett raised a gift-box and handed it to my father. "A greeting gift. My apologies for interrupting."
"Not at all, son. Come by another time, won't you? It's good to know Vera has a friend."
Ushering Rhett from the living room and onto the porch, I closed the door behind me and sagged against it.
Rhett wheeled around to face me. "How could you keep a secret?"
He obviously worked out the right conclusion. Somehow. I waved a dismissive hand. "It happened the night of the dance. There wasn't any time to tell you."
"Oh. Wow." Rhett paced on the porch, rubbing his chin. "I heard rumors that he married. No one knew who with. I came because I heard you were back in town and I thought you might know. I didn't think"—he covered his mouth—"It's unexpected, but . . . you married one of the most eligible witches in the world."
"Stop," I said, exhaling a deep breath and glaring at the ground. Why did have to act like there was a silver lining? I thought he might have felt something for me, too, but apparently the crush was unrequited. "It wasn't a choice, Rhett. Not really. It was this or die."
"I want to hear all about it. Not now, obviously, but later." Rhett shoved his hands in his pockets. "We have so much to talk about. Mail me when he's gone. I'll come over right away."
"Sure. Keep it a secret?"
"Of course," Rhett said, offering a small smile. "Mums the word."
After a boring recount of my activities at the Sages, I managed to slip away to the attic where I threw myself into bed. I stared out a frosted window overlooking the sea of pines that made our back yard. Chunky flakes of snow drifted from a white sky and clumped on the ledge of my window.
I pulled my comforter tighter around myself, knowing the year would only get colder. I liked the ambiance of winter, but not the cold. The cold made my bones ache, and no amount of magic could fix that.
The door creaked open. I didn't bother looking to see who it was. There were only three possibilities and I didn't want to see any of them. Judging by the way the intruder paused at the room's center, I figured it was Lucien.
"So, this is where you grew up."
"Yep," I muttered, embarrassed that he was in my bedroom. I read somewhere that a bedroom could say a lot about a person. I wondered what mine might say to him.
"What are these?"
Curious, I rolled to sit. He stood before my poorly-drawn collection of pictures. Most were portraits of the witch who cursed me, Nimda. Some were of my more terrifying dreams. I rubbed my neck. "My dreams. That's the witch who cursed me. My parents thought drawing might help."
"Did it?"
I shook my head and brought my comforter higher up around my ears.
"Is this the curse?" Lucien lifted a piece of paper.
"The twig thing? Yeah." I fidgeted, feeling a bit anxious about him being in my space.
Setting the paper down, Lucien strolled past my desk to my shelves, scanning the spines of the books. When he was done looking, he approached the bed. "Your parents are doting. You are fortunate."
"I know." I wasn't sure what his family was like, growing up, but I had a feeling it wasn't good based on the way he described his mother. "You can sit if you want."
A smile teased his lips as he shook his head. "This has been a telling experience."
"It has?"
"Indeed. My understanding of your antics is much clearer. I know many things I did not before," Lucien said, sounding far away. "I understand."
That was an interesting admission. So much, I couldn't even feel embarrassed. Maybe it was my lack of energy, or maybe I liked knowing he understood me some. It felt too early to say.
"My driver has returned. I will be off, now. Your parents invited me to dinner tomorrow evening. I accepted. In two days' time, I will return to the university. For your safety, I recommend you join me when I return. The choice is yours."
I shrugged. I didn't have much to do at home, especially not without my books and library access. "I'll go back with you, sir."
"You may call me Lucien."
Somehow, I found the energy to blush. "No."
"I understand. Should a problem arise, come to me. I am staying at the Moonwell."
I wasn't surprised at all. The Moonwell was an upper-class witch lodge. Popular, traditional, and proudly serving witches since the eighteen-forties. I flicked my hand in a wave. "Later."
The door creaked as he shut it behind himself and his footsteps faded down the stairs.
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