“Reg,” Nick says in that knowing voice of his. He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I know it’s hard for you. I know you want to think the best of them. But some people aren’t worth bothering with. They’re a black hole, and no matter how much you put in, you’re not going to get anything out. You’ve been down this road before.”
I nod, fighting back a knot of emotion in my throat. Nick’s always been there to pick up the pieces when my parents let me down again. He’s helped me make payments when they’ve left me holding the check. He’s endured endless calls from creditors because he lives with me. He’s always had my back. I need to listen to him. “You’re right.”
He grins at me. “Of course I’m right. Now let me put away these groceries, and I’ll make you a cheap-ass special for dinner and then I’ll help you pack.”
A chuckle escapes me, my mood lightening. Nick’s just as broke as me. He changed careers a year ago to personal training, and it’s been a slow climb for him to build a client base. I watch him as he puts away the last of the groceries and decide to change the subject. “So you worked today?” When he nods, I prompt, “Was Sergeant Hotness there?”
Nick’s cheeks darken with a barely perceptible flush. “Maybe.”
Ooh, exciting. Nick’s mentioned how gorgeous he is several times, and how friendly. I’d be willing to bet that the attraction isn’t just one-sided. Nick’s a cutie. He’s fit and loyal and fun to be around. “Did you ask him out?”
“He’s military, Reg.”
“That just means he’s got a uniform in that closet. You could offer him some free personal training.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Help him fill out those tight uniform pants.”
Nick groans. “You’re the worst.”
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, Nick drops me off in front of Ms. Magnus’s house with a small pack of clothes, a box of my favorite Spellcraft cards, and a boatload of worried, brotherly instructions. “If anyone seems weird, text me,” he says for the seventh time that day. “I’ll drop everything and come get you, no questions asked. And make sure you lock your door at night. I don’t care if she’s a harmless old lady. You be safe. And—”
“I’ll text you when I get settled,” I promise Nick and get out of the car before he can lecture me further. “It’ll be fine.” I blow him a kiss, shut the car door, and then bound across the street, my heart racing. I’m not sure what the daily dress code will be, so I’m wearing my favorite red cardigan over khakis and a plain T-shirt. My heart hammers as I ring the doorbell and then wait for someone to let me in. I clutch the box to my chest, anxious. What if she’s changed her mind? What if she doesn’t want me to be her assistant? What if she’s been placed in a nursing home—
The door opens. Ms. Magnus is on the other side, wearing a glittery-looking tunic top and a long skirt. She’s got glasses perched on her nose and a fringed scarf wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is puffed up into cherubic white curls, and her lips are pink with gloss.
She’s also wearing a necklace with what looks like dried chicken feet on it.
Because she’s a witch. Right. “Hello, Ms. Magnus,” I say cheerfully. “I’m here for my first day on the job!”
“Call me Dru, darling,” she says, opening the door wider so I can come inside. “And please, make yourself at home. We’re very informal here.”
A good sign. I smile at her, holding my things close. “I can’t wait to get started. I know this is going to be just wonderful for both of us.”
She beams at me, her gaze falling to the brightly decorated box clutched to my chest, the one covered with dragons and runes. “Is that your curse kit?”
“Wh-what?” I stammer.
“What?” she echoes innocently.
“It’s cards. Spellcraft? The Magicking?” I hold the branded box out. It’s a little worn around the edges, but I won it in a tournament a few years ago and I’m pretty proud of it. “It’s a collectible card game, and I like to play it in my downtime or craft decks. I thought I’d bring it with me, though most of my collection is at home.”
Part of me wanted to bring it to prove that I do have a reason for thinking the ad was about the card game. Part of me really just wants to shove it in that Mr. Magnus’s face.
“That’s nice, dear.” Her expression brightens. “Let me show you to your room! Lisa cleared her stuff out this morning, and she’ll be back with her husband in a few days to pick up the rest of her things.”
I nod and step inside, eyeing the marble bust of a very ugly, wrinkled man that leers at me from the entryway. Was that here last time? I can’t recall. “So what’s a curse kit?”
“Did I say curse kit? I must have misspoken.” She smiles sweetly at me, all innocence. “I thought we’d get you settled in and bake some cookies. How does that sound?”
My heart melts a little at that. Ms. Magnus—Dru—reminds me of the grandmother I never had. I always wanted grandparents, but my parents had been disowned by theirs before I was born, and I’ve never had anyone. That cranky guy is so lucky to have someone like this, and I feel a stab of pure envy. “I would love to make cookies with you, Dru. Lead the way and I’ll drop off my things.” I’ll just work the sweets into my daily macros.
Dru talks happily about the weather as she leads me through the strange house, heading up the stairs and to the right. “My room is down the hall on the other side,” she explains, “but yours has been spelled to notify you if I need assistance.”
“Spelled?”
“Oh, right.” She pauses on the stairs. “Wired?”
“Ah. Like an intercom?”
Dru smiles brightly. “Sure, we’ll call it that.” She gestures at the room, opening the door. “This is you. The bathroom is down the hall. I do hope that’s all right. It’s an older house, and I can’t seem to find a good, trustworthy contractor to make the proper renovations to give you an en suite. The last one had to be cursed.”
“Cursed,” I echo. “Did you say cursed?”
“He cursed a lot,” she amends. “That’s what I meant. At any rate, it’s just you and me on this floor.” She points at two rooms across the hall. “Those are guest rooms and rarely used. We’re not very popular with the other ranking families. The Magnus line is a little . . . eccentric.” She gestures at the closed door farther down the hall. “And that, of course, is where Caliban stays if he’s in town for a while.”
“That’s your nephew?”
“The unpleasant one, yes.”
“You have a pleasant one?”
She titters, as if I’ve said something funny. “No, I’m afraid not. Just him.”
I’m not sure if I like that I’m staying one room down from an asshole like him. “Does the door lock?” I ask mildly, because I don’t want to offend her.
“Of course. And Caliban very rarely stays with me anyhow. He’s in Boston most of the time. I can assure you that he won’t bother you in the slightest.” Dru reaches out and pats my arm. “We’ll make sure you’re protected, dear. And he wouldn’t touch you. He knows what hell it is to try and get a new familiar. I assure you that he’ll ignore you. You’re not his type anyhow.”
Um, okay. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be his type anyhow. “Great.”