Hedgewitchin' in the Kitchen Read online

  “She is mine to do with as I please. Perhaps she will become my apprentice—if she pleases me.”

  Vega peered at the child. “So the girl is Witchkin like us?”

  Abigail remembered the days she had been Baba’s adopted daughter and apprentice. Those days were filled with pain magic and hard lessons. Lucifer had been her one joy. This girl didn’t have a friend to keep her company. Nor was Baba beyond turning apprentices into goats, cats, or other animals if they displeased her. She wouldn’t hesitate to chop off the girl’s fingers if that was how she was most useful to her.

  “Witchkin hearts are sweet as sugar. If she displeases me, I will eat her.” Baba cackled.

  Abigail held up the brownies. “I will trade you these brownies for the child.”

  “Pah! That is hardly fair trade.” Baba waved her off.

  Vega eyed the plate with obvious longing. “You haven’t tasted them.”

  Baba jutted her pointed chin at Abigail. “What will you do with child? You cannot teach her magic. You have nothing left.”

  “I have a little, not nothing.” There was a difference. “More importantly, I know people who do have magic.”

  If the girl was Witchkin, she could go to the school where her daughter taught. Abigail didn’t want anyone to be forced to live in this world of monsters, but she had seen that many of the teachers where Clarissa worked were truly trying to help children. Sam, Josie, and Grandmother Bluehorse were nice people who weren’t the sort to hurt others. They didn’t teach students as Baba had taught her, with cruelty and pain magic.

  Lucifer flicked his tail back and forth.

  “Abigail did bring you all these gifts.” Vega mumbled, her gaze sweeping over the sacks of food. “It does seem like you owe her something in return.”

  “What? Nyet? These gifts were from my loving granddaughter.”

  “In a way they’re from me.” Vega lifted one slender shoulder and dropped it. “I told Abigail what to bring, and she fetched them and purchased them. So the gifts might be considered to be from her.”

  Baba harrumphed.

  Vega drummed her painted nails over the table. “The brownies truly are delicious. You won’t believe it until you try them, but they’re better than cookies made from the hearts of children.” She frowned at the girl in the corner. “Especially one all skin and bones.”

  For the first time, Abigail questioned Vega’s veganism and why she might have such a strict stance on refraining from eating meat products. Perhaps it was more than dietary, and in part a humanitarian reason. A way of rebelling against something about Witchkin society? For the first time, she felt there was more to Vega than met the eye.

  Baba frowned. “Be that as it may, I do not barter in brownies.”

  Witches never did anything for free. Baba had taught her that. It was always a matter of finding out what someone’s price was. It had been easy to secure Vega’s assistance with mousse, Sam’s friendship with brownies, and Felix Thatch’s with food as well. To earn Grandmother Bluehorse’s friendship, it had taken orchids and a willing ear. Baba wasn’t a mystery; it was just that her price was too high.

  “What do you want that is mine to give?” Abigail asked.

  “Only fingers and toes.”

  Surely there had to be something else. Abigail scanned the cottage for a clue. Mismatched cups and saucers were set at the table. Their lack of mates had never bothered Baba. The hedge witch used herbs to heal, though it was unlikely she needed any more medicines considering how well-stocked her garden was.

  Lucifer returned to Abigail. He meowed. She knelt to pick him up, but he shifted aside when she reached for him. He touched his nose to her hand. She thought he meant for her to pet him. When she attempted to do so, he moved back. Only when she held her hand still did he touch his nose to her finger again.

  He was pointing to her wedding ring.

  That was right. Baba liked gold.

  Abigail’s heart dropped as she gazed at the gold ring. Logically she told herself there was no reason to keep it, except for sentiment—and monetary value. But it was all she had left of her husband, an everyday reminder of those years of her life that she didn’t want to forget.

  Even so, a human life was worth more than the past she still clung to.

  Abigail removed the ring from her finger. “It’s real gold. Will you take it in exchange for this child’s freedom?”

  Baba Nata held out her hand. Abigail placed the ring in her palm, waiting as Baba examined it. Losing that final piece of her marriage was like losing a piece of herself. It hurt almost as much as the loss of a finger—though this pain was more in her soul than her body.

  At the same time, a small part of her felt freed by the gesture.

  “I will agree to this trade.” Baba nodded. “But for Lucifer’s freedom, it will take more than baked goods and gold. It will take real sacrifice.”

  Lucifer swaggered closer to Abigail.

  Baba jabbed a knitting needle in his direction. “Mark my word. Someday you will return. You will beg me to take you as my apprentice again. It is your fate.” Her eyes gleamed. “I just need to offer you right price.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Unfurgetable

  Twenty minutes later, Vega sauntered down the path ahead of Abigail, Lucifer, and Petra, the girl Abigail had freed. Petra was small for thirteen.

  “If you tell the school you’re fourteen, they’ll probably let you start as a freshman,” Abigail whispered, as if Vega couldn’t hear them.

  The girl nodded, her arm looped around Abigail’s, gazing at her with adoration.

  “Someday, I’ll repay you for this kindness. I promise.” The girl was smart enough not to thank Abigail outright. There was hope for her in this world.

  “Just don’t sign up for my class,” Vega called over her shoulder. “I don’t want immature thirteen-year-olds who don’t have a handle on magic ruining my advanced classes.”

  “Do you like art? Sign up for my daughter’s class,” Abigail said. Her hand felt too light without her ring and strangely naked. But it wasn’t a completely unwelcome sensation to be free of the past so that she could start thinking about a new future.

  Petra gazed at the forest with wide eyes. Lucifer brushed up against her. He must have been feeling generous because he allowed Petra to pick him up and carry him. She kissed his head and murmured into his ear.

  Abigail had been able to help the child, but she wished she’d been able to save him.

  Abigail reached over and scratched him behind the ears. “Oh, Lucy, what am I going to do with you?”

  He looked to her before averting his gaze.

  Vega snagged Abigail around the shoulder, forcing her to quicken her pace to keep up with her.

  “He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.” A smirk laced Vega’s lips.

  Abigail squirmed out of her reach. “Will he? He’s stuck as a cat.” If he hadn’t been so stubborn, he could have finished his apprenticeship and been free afterward. Of course, Abigail might be short a few fingers and toes. Her gold wouldn’t have paid for the child’s freedom and served as the sacrifice Baba needed.

  “Is he stuck?” Vega laughed. “Have you ever slept with Lucifer?”

  Abigail glanced at the teenage girl who was carefully keeping her eyes on the ground, probably pretending not to listen. “That isn’t any of your business.”

  Vega smoothed a hand over her short bob. “I’m guessing that’s a no because if you had, you’d be bragging.”

  Abigail scowled at Vega, irritated she was in the exact same place she’d begun—only the pain of her past was fresh in the present—and someone was there to gloat about it. “Oh, really? Do I seem the sort of person who kisses and tells?”

  “I don’t think it matters what kind of person you are. Now that the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, I might as well say it. That was the best sex of my life.”

  A spike of jealousy rose u
p in Abigail. “Lucky you,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “He was a real animal.” Vega growled playfully and laughed.

  “Yes, well, he is a cat, dear.” Right about then, she wished she was a cat with claws to lash out at Vega.

  “No, I mean when he was a man, he was great too—even if I only cured his curse temporarily. The experience was magical.” Vega added under her breath, “Far better than it was with his brother.”

  Head turned over her shoulder, Abigail was too distracted by Lucifer’s reaction to fully listen to Vega’s words. He hunched down, guilt evident in his frame. Abigail regretted allowing her jealousy to show. She’d been married for almost twenty years to another man. Lucifer had no reason to feel guilty.

  Vega on the other hand, didn’t have to be such a jerk about rubbing in what Abigail couldn’t have. Not only had Vega gotten to be with him as an animal, but she’d also been with him as a man when his curse had been lifted, albeit, temporarily.

  That was when it hit Abigail. She knew the cure to Lucifer’s curse.

  It didn’t matter that she had little magic. It wasn’t going to take a plant affinity anyway. Pain magic and chopping off fingers could lend the kind of touch magic needed for a powerful spell, but it wasn’t necessary. The reason Lucifer had turned back to his human state was because he had used his magic—most likely inadvertently.

  His affinity was pleasure. When he and Vega had been up to naughty cat activities, it had powered up his electricity and broken through Baba’s curse.

  Probably he had copulated with other cats plenty of times. It was unlikely he’d ever been with another witch, though. Abigail’s eyes widened at the realization. She remembered Vega’s threat to turn students into frogs.

  “Can anyone be turned into a cat?” she asked. “Is that something you know how to do?”

  Vega’s lips curled upward. “Perhaps you aren’t as dumb as you look.”

  Abigail laughed. “From a wicked witch, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Lucifer wasn’t cured, but she didn’t need to go back to Baba to sacrifice her fingers and toes. And Lucifer didn’t need to return either. They would find a solution to his problem. Together.

  Abigail linked her arm through Vega’s. “Tell me, dear. Do you like vegan cheesecake?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Clarissa Explains It All

  Abigail only stayed at Womby’s for a couple more days. Clarissa was recovering well enough that she could change her own remaining bandages, and her wounds were almost healed.

  “It’s because she had her mum here to keep her spirit up and give her the nurturing she needed,” Felix Thatch said.

  “Or it might be that salve you made,” Abigail said.

  “It might have been.”

  Abigail had Lucifer back and Clarissa was getting better, but she didn’t feel like her job at the school was complete yet. Her daughter still wasn’t safe. Staff members held grudges against Clarissa. Most of the animosity toward her seemed to be more about things her biological mother had done as headmistress of the school than about Clarissa’s own actions.

  As Mr. Thatch carried Abigail’s suitcases up the steep steps out of the dungeon, Abigail kept a hand under Clarissa’s elbow to steady her. Lucifer waited at the top of the stairs, watching them with the feigned indifference of a cat. He played the part well.

  Abigail suggested, “Perhaps we should make a special dinner for the staff to thank them for chipping in their time to cover your classes. What do you think, Clarissa?”

  “I’d like to do something nice for my coworkers.” She glanced over her shoulder at Felix Thatch.

  He waited on the steps behind them without commenting on Clarissa’s snail’s pace walking up the stairs.

  A sneaky smile flitted over Clarissa’s lips as she gazed at her mentor. “But I’ve been told I’m not supposed to go into the kitchen and interrupt the brownies at work preparing school meals.”

  Lucifer meowed, and Abigail realized Clarissa was teetering off balance.

  Abigail placed an arm around her daughter, guiding her up the stairs again. “Would it be an inconvenience to use the kitchen again, Mr. Thatch?”

  He gave a curt bow. “I shall make arrangements for you.”

  “What should we make? Wet burritos or lasagna?” Clarissa asked.

  Whatever they made, there had to be a vegetarian option for Josie and Vega.

  “Ahem,” Mr. Thatch said. “Perhaps you could make both.”

  Abigail laughed. That was just the sort of thing Lucifer would have said if he could speak.

  * * *

  Clarissa made invitations to a special dinner in the staff room. Josie delivered them. Abigail asked Grandmother Bluehorse’s permission to pick vegetables and herbs in the garden greenhouses, and Sam helped her collect edible flowers from the grounds to use as garnish on the salad. They supplemented the salad the school was already planning for the staff with a few touches of Abigail’s own—salad dressing being one of them. She still couldn’t believe they didn’t serve salad dressing with their meals.

  Everything Abigail couldn’t find in the school’s kitchen and grounds, she fetched from the market in Lachlan Falls. It took most of the afternoon to prepare the meal, and that was with Clarissa and Josie’s help.

  Not everyone showed up to dinner. And some, like the librarian and the foreign language teacher, came for the food and immediately left. Abigail hadn’t expected all would stay, but most of the staff crowded into the staff room for a taste of something that wasn’t school food and remained to sit with each other and chat. Vega elbowed her way past Josie and Grandmother Bluehorse to be first for a slice of vegan lasagna and a scoop of wet burritos.

  Clarissa scowled. She looked like she was about to say something nasty to her roommate, but Abigail shook her head. “A good witch doesn’t use her words to be mean to others. Kill with kindness.”

  Clarissa forced a smile on her face and when she addressed Vega, she asked, “Would you like a slice of pie to go with that?”

  Lucifer behaved very well and remained under a table, eating from his own plate. Human food wasn’t good for his cat body, but he deserved a treat.

  Sam came clomping in a moment later, wearing boots that didn’t fit his cloven feet well. He wore a large poncho that went down to his knees, covering his hairy body. He gazed at the food in a daze.

  Abigail served him a slice of lasagna and a scoop of wet burritos. “Sam, why are you wearing those boots?”

  “There’s a rule about going barefoot and naked in the school.” He rolled his eyes. “Personally, I just think it’s one of those rules to keep satyrs oppressed and outdoors. But I decided your cooking was worth wearing clothes and shoes for.” He grinned. “What kind of pie is that?”

  Dean Khaba joined Josie and Clarissa, the three of them smiling and joking with each other as they ate.

  “Honey, your fairy godmother just made my dream come true. I could die happy right now,” Khaba said, enjoying a cheesy bite of burrito. “Why can’t I have a fairy godmother?”

  “I’ll be your fairy godmother,” Josie said.

  “Sure you will.” Khaba poked her with his fork.

  Clarissa laughed. Abigail liked seeing her daughter happy and with friends.

  Lucifer’s back arched, and he looked like he might attack when the principal walked in. Abigail strategically placed herself between them.

  “I reckon you must feel better if you can whip up all this food,” Jeb said. Abigail noticed him pile his plate high with food, but he didn’t eat it. Perhaps he feared she had enchanted it.

  “Yes, sir,” Clarissa said. “I’m ready to go back to work tomorrow.”

  Mr. Thatch sat alone in the corner on the other side of the room. Lucifer swaggered over and sat at his feet.

  Abigail joined them. “I take it you aren’t one for parties, are you, Mr. Thatch?”

  “I’ll take
a good book and a quiet room over a party any time, Mrs. Lawrence. I only came for your cooking.” His gaze shifted to Clarissa and away. A hint of longing flickered in his eyes before vanishing.

  Abigail could see her cooking hadn’t been the only reason he’d come. The stormy gray of his eyes was familiar, reminding her of Lucifer. Vega’s muttered words the day before nudged at her memory. Abigail didn’t know Lucifer’s last name. He might have told her once, but that would have been over thirty years ago. The more she stared into Thatch’s face, the more she thought his eyes were like those of the young man she had once loved.

  Abigail lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you have a brother, Mr. Thatch?”

  “No. My brother died when he was a child.”

  Lucifer meowed, drawing her attention. He batted at Felix Thatch’s leg. The moment the teacher leaned down to pet Lucifer, the cat backed away. Now that Abigail knew what question to ask, she would put the question to Lucifer when they were alone.

  Mr. Thatch set aside his empty plate. “I heard you’re leaving tomorrow. I wondered if you might permit me to take you home instead. You needn’t inconvenience yourself traveling for twelve hours by bus when I can use a magical means to transport you instead.”

  Abigail hesitated. She had never trusted Witchkin or Fae in the Faerie Realm, and had preferred to avoid magic when she could, but she felt comfortable with Felix Thatch and suspected his abilities in magic were competent if his poultice was any indication of his abilities.

  She just hated the idea of owing someone something in return. Witches always expected a price for granting a favor.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to give you in return,” Abigail said.

  “On the contrary, you’ve already given me so much.” He nodded to the table of food, but his eyes remained fixed on Clarissa. “It’s the least I can do to in appreciation for the brownies and dinner.”

  “Yes,” she said at last. “I will take you up on that offer.”

  * * *

  When Abigail and Lucifer were alone and settled in back home in Eugene, Oregon, Abigail took out her alphabet board and placed it on her living room floor.