How to be a Badass Witch Read online

  That really didn’t appeal. She’d make a boatload of money, of course, but something about deceiving them didn’t sit right with her, even if most of them probably deserved it.

  She had this skill, and she wanted to do something useful with it.

  Given that the memory spell was problematic at best, she decided to return to her work on the fire spell. In her opinion, it was better to master a few techniques than to learn many that she could not use very well.

  All of her practice thus far had hinged on what she could make the fire do, but right now, she wanted to work on the gestures that made the fire appear. Could she make the gesture from her side and not with her hand out in front of her? Could she do the magic without making a gesture?

  She didn’t know, but she wanted to find out.

  Practicing magic, it turned out, was a lot like coding. Once you started, it was difficult to remember to come up for air. Kera practiced while the sun sank in the sky, pausing to jot down notes and occasionally look up the healing spell for fingertips that had caught a stray spark.

  By the time she stopped, she had developed a fairly good idea of where her boundaries were. The important part of determining what caught fire was to focus on where the fire should be and how it should ignite the material it would be using as fuel. The gesture could be made anywhere, but she couldn’t seem to make the spell work without one.

  This is when it would be very useful to have a teacher, she thought. She couldn’t shake the idea that the visualization was far more important than the gesture, but she had nothing to base that on.

  When her stomach let loose with a growl, she realized she was ravenous again. Not only that, her pants genuinely seemed a little bit looser.

  Just my imagination, she told herself, but she also made a mental note to buy a scale so she could keep track of her weight. Maybe using magic was even more efficient than interval training for burning calories.

  Forget the brain bleach. That’s where the money was.

  She cooked the other six eggs with as many vegetables as she could fit in the pan and grated cheese over the top of it. She was beginning to get sick of eggs after eating so many in one day, but that didn’t stop her from shoveling food into her mouth with grim efficiency.

  She really wanted spinach for some reason, though she knew it wasn’t nearly caloric enough.

  Had she gotten anemic? She usually ate pretty well, so she would be surprised to wind up with some sort of nutritional deficiency, but anything was possible, especially when it turned out that she was some kind of witch.

  Was there a message board she could go to? An FAQ for her to look through? “Commonly-noticed side effects from starting to practice magic?”

  She shook her head and organized her notes on the fire spell while eating nearly an entire bag of trail mix.

  When she was done, she was abruptly so tired that it was all she could do to get into bed. She fell asleep without even changing into pajamas and slept the dreamless sleep of pure exhaustion.

  Chapter Fourteen

  With the scrying spells enhanced, the only thing that remained was to find a way to check in on the spell from afar. That was why the next day, Mother LeBlanc found James perched on a rusty ladder, trying to install a wireless webcam with a minimum of fuss.

  She did not interrupt. In fact, she was so quiet that when James finished his work and she asked what he was doing, he nearly fell off the ladder in surprise.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said gravely. “I thought you were aware of my presence.”

  James waited for the hammering in his heart to subside before he climbed down the ladder. Once on solid ground, he stretched his arms and hands.

  “Oof, that one was difficult.”

  “I did not realize the installation of these contraptions was so difficult,” LeBlanc observed.

  “It’s not supposed to be.” James rotated his neck, which had developed a persistent crick. “The thing is, you’re supposed to use adhesives or nails, and I wasn’t going to do that in this house.”

  “Ah. Very wise.” She sat gracefully. “Though I would have liked to see Mary’s face if she thought you had.”

  James snickered. “We could tell her I did.”

  “Indeed, we could.” She gave a conspiratorial smile. “So, what did you use to put it up, then?”

  “Magic.” Seeing her disapproving look, James shrugged. “I needed to make sure the connection was never going to go out, so I had to work with it anyway. This was a very small piece of power, considering.”

  “I know that, but we are soon going to need all of our powers,” she told him. “We do not have any idea who we might meet. It is best to be prepared for anything.”

  “I know.” James sighed. “We’ll just have to pack a bunch of energy drinks and hope for the best.”

  “Why you people persist in choosing the least civilized ways to take in nourishment, I will never know.” She slid her hand into a pocket, and when it emerged, it was holding a fresh beignet, complete with powdered sugar. She smiled beatifically. “I’ve missed these things,” she told him before biting into it. The powdered sugar sifted down and disappeared before touching the fabric of her dress.

  James stared in wonder. He considered asking her if her dress could reproduce brand-named foods like Cadbury Creme Eggs or Kentucky Fried Chicken’s mythical and closely-guarded eleven herbs and spices but decided against it.

  “I don’t suppose you have more of those?” he asked finally.

  “I do indeed.” She produced a pretty china plate covered in a layer of donuts and then two cups of coffee that, if the smell was to be believed, were about as strong as jet fuel.

  James took a bite and briefly believed he heard angels singing. The beignet was heavenly: perfectly cooked, just a touch too hot, and crisp without being greasy. The powdered sugar melted in his mouth and he chewed slowly, trying to savor the experience.

  “That was incredible,” he said when he was done.

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “Though mine are nowhere near as good as those at Café Du Monde. Perhaps if we stop in New Orleans, we will have time to go there.”

  James nodded in agreement, his mouth too full for him to speak. When he was done, he pointed out, “As you’ve probably noticed, we’ve been seeing a steady stream of flashing lights in the New Orleans area.”

  LeBlanc smiled back. “Of course. I would expect nothing less.”

  “And,” James added, “one that keeps coming on and off in Arizona. Possibly a California escapee? Or it might be the sort of person who lives in Sedona. They’ll believe anything.”

  ”You’re overlooking a possibility,” LeBlanc reminded him. “A Navajo shaman, perhaps?”

  “True, but unlikely to be related to our book, surely.”

  “Perhaps, but we wouldn’t have known of them before, and we might do well to begin reaching out to other associations across the country.”

  “Mmm.” James nodded quietly, thinking. His eyes were locked on the map, and eventually, he said, “You remember the Men in Black movie?”

  “Mm, no.” LeBlanc’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not a fan of Will Smith.”

  “What?” James adjusted his glasses. He would have expected LeBlanc not to have heard of the movie but was not prepared for her to have an opinion on the star of the film. “Why don’t you like him? I thought everyone liked him.”

  She lifted her shoulders elegantly. “He strikes me as arrogant. He’s been in Hollywood too long, ever since that Bel-Air show, whatever it was.”

  “You saw that?”

  “James, I do try to keep up with popular culture.”

  “News to me,” James said. “Anyway, one man’s arrogance is another man’s swagger. Will Smith has swagger, dammit.”

  “You are entitled to your opinion,” the woman observed. “But he doesn’t appeal to me. In any event, I believe you were trying to make a point?”

  “Oh. Right. Well, there’s a scene in the first one
where they use the National Enquirer as a way of staying abreast of weird events. No one takes it seriously, so it’s an easy source of useful information for those in the know. I say we go online and do something similar. Find websites devoted to reporting strange or paranormal events or kooky conspiracy theories. Could be a goldmine of information while we’re traveling.”

  After mulling it over, LeBlanc gave an appreciative nod. “That works. We know which states our candidates are located in and the general area. It would be nice if we could improve the scrying process, but it would not be a good use of our time to remain here and do so.” She took a sip of her coffee and let her breath out slowly. “Yes. I do believe it is time for us to set out.”

  “I think it is.” James looked around and felt an unexpected pang of something like nostalgia. He was still here, of course, but he rarely left anymore. This trip would take him far away from the place he called home.

  Of course, when they returned, there might be someone with them who would be seeing the house with new eyes.

  Would they appreciate it? Would they understand the history of the place, or would they be used to more modern ways of life?

  “What happens,” he asked her, “if we find someone and they are not compatible? If the world has moved on too far for us to train new recruits?”

  LeBlanc smiled, a curve of her lips that transformed her. “You are very young, James.”

  “You don’t look nearly old enough to say something like that,” he pointed out.

  “I know, but it is true. Ours has never been a profession with thousands of adherents, and the world has changed immeasurably many times before now. Through it all, we have persisted.”

  James considered her words. “And if this time, we do not?”

  She pulled out her pipe, and a puff of smoke curled through the air, the smell sweet and pleasant. As with the powdered sugar from her beignets, this smoke would stain nothing.

  “When I was young,” LeBlanc said finally, “I believed the world needed to be remade. Then I got older, and I believed just as fervently that the generations before us had faced trials as great or greater, and their wisdom would guide society better than our desire for something new and different.”

  James nodded.

  “Now I think perhaps that society functions as…oh, what is it called? The way things tend to equalize over time. Matter fills the empty space. A dye mixes with water. We think of ourselves as upholding a great tradition, James, but we are different from those who came before us, just as the world is different.”

  James waited, uncertain of where she was going with this.

  “If our line dies out, perhaps it will be because we have served our purpose,” LeBlanc said finally.

  “No.” He refused to accept that.

  She smiled. “I do not think we will, but it is good to ask these questions.”

  “The world needs us,” James said. “We have sat back for far too long, and now we see chaos spreading. The world is unstable. It needs the balance we can bring, or as you said weeks ago, we may come to a time when there is a crisis only we can solve, and only if we are at full power.”

  “I agree,” she said readily. “And yet, I think there is much in the fact that you have chosen a new way to find recruits. Those we find next will change us, just as you and I and every member of the council has changed us.”

  James nodded.

  “And since I see I have not set your mind at ease, if nothing else, we will erase their memories.” She smiled.

  Lovecraft cringed. “I always hated that spell. When I first learned the damn thing, I didn’t know how to control it while experimenting on myself, and it kept re-casting itself. Ended up having to leave messages all over my damn apartment.”

  His companion laughed. “I think we all did. I wrote them in charcoal on the baseboards.”

  Refocusing on the task at hand, James grinned and turned back to his laptop. “Okay, let’s start on Reddit and see what we can find for conspiracy sites.”

  LeBlanc eyed him. “Just when I think you have nothing left to surprise me with, you pull something out of your own little version of my skirt. However, don’t you think you had best begin packing?”

  “Packing.” James shuddered. “I hate packing. Plus, we won’t have much room in the Phantom.”

  “I beg your pardon?” She frowned at him.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I thought that instead of getting rental cars, we could just take my Rolls.” James had done very well for himself in his career and had been born to money. One of his most prized possessions was a Rolls Royce Phantom VI, which he had painstakingly upgraded to include climate control.

  “I see,” LeBlanc said. “Well, in that case, I shall pack accordingly. Come along, James. James. James.”

  “Clicky buttons,” James said, but he allowed himself to be ushered out of the room. “How should I pack for the south in winter, by the way?”

  “As if you won’t be assaulted by ice and snow at every opportunity.” LeBlanc shuddered as she looked out the window. “By the way, be prepared to have a very good argument as to why someone from a lovely part of the country should come here to learn magic.”

  “It’s pretty here,” James protested.

  She did not dignify that with a response.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Johnny and Sven sat at opposite ends of the bar. Sven’s hair was distinctive on its own. Put the two of them together, and they were a noteworthy pair.

  And they were only here to observe. They didn’t want to be linked.

  Their efforts the day before had inspired immediate results. Johnny’s tap into a police scanner had caught several hysterical calls from yuppies who didn’t know what to do when a mean kid took their lunch money.

  The police, of course, couldn’t do much. They showed up to take down details and then they left, the yuppies left, and the gang members came out of their alleys and apartments again. There was a new energy in them, a hunger for confrontation.

  Johnny knew all about that. He’d been eleven when he’d first mugged someone, and he’d been on a high for days afterward. Once you realized you could just take what you wanted, the world was a different place. You learned the smell of weakness. You even learned to savor a look of hatred. After all, taking what you wanted felt good, but it felt even better when the person hated you and they still let you do it. That was a bigger win.

  You’d be chasing that high for the rest of your life.

  It was why Johnny still didn’t trust Pauline. In his opinion, you could judge people by two things: what they wanted and what they were willing to do to get it. He couldn’t get a handle on what she wanted.

  A peaceful world? That was bullshit; she wanted something more. Power wasn’t what people wanted, either. They wanted power so they could do something with it—usually, be rich.

  But everything about Pauline was bland. She didn’t buy diamonds or drugs. He’d never seen her enjoy a meal. She seemed to go out of her way to make herself not stand out. He was left with a boss who didn’t seem to want anything in particular but would stop at nothing to make sure she got…whatever it was.

  That was dangerous. She’d probably need to be taken out at some point.

  Johnny’s attention was drawn as two young men bumped into each other, crossing the room. Both had seen the collision coming, and neither had backed down. They stepped back to glare at one another, and Johnny’s eyes flicked over to meet Sven’s for a moment.

  It was so, so easy to tip the balance.

  Words were exchanged. Johnny couldn’t hear what they were, but the specifics weren’t important. The important part was that it escalated. Expressions grew colder. The two got up in each other’s faces. Hands went to hidden weapons.

  It only took one friend standing up for the battle lines to be drawn.

  Johnny stayed where he was. They wouldn’t take notice of him unless he got in the way, and he didn’t intend to. He wanted to see who tried to de-e
scalate things.

  Those were the voices that needed to be silenced.

  Sure enough, they came out of the woodwork, two or three guys on each side who tried to hold people back. They spoke to their friends quietly and urgently.

  They weren’t successful. The first shove came, then the next. The friends trying to de-escalate were looking even more worried now. One of the braver ones put himself in the middle to try to calm both sides down, only for someone on the other side to take him down with a punch.

  After that, it was chaos. Johnny sat back and sipped at his drink, not bothering to hide his smile. The bartender was yelling, the gang members were yelling, and people had gone running for backup, but all of that was too little, too late.

  The battle lines had been drawn. The gang members had gotten their first taste of inspiring fear and compliance, and they weren’t going to stand for anyone denying them. Before too long, this district was going to be in total chaos.

  A brawl was one thing, but flying bullets didn’t care what colors you were wearing, so when the weapons came out, Johnny put down his drink and a few bills and slipped out with Sven. The two of them stood on the sidewalk.

  “Going well,” Johnny said.

  Sven nodded.

  “I have to say, I’ve been on their side of it a few times.” Johnny jerked his head toward the distant shouts and crashes. “Never started one from the outside. More fun than I expected.”

  “I told you you’d like this job,” Sven pointed out.

  “I’m beginning to think you knew what you were talking about after all.”

  “Yeah, and speaking of that, there’s a meeting tonight after the party. Don’t skip it, don’t be late, and don’t show up drunk.”

  Johnny gave an ironic salute and headed to his car.

  It was time to see how Chinatown was doing. He wanted to go back to the Mermaid, but he knew that the longer he waited, the more satisfying it would be.