Barely Bewitched by Kimberly Frost Page A

and they roared higher. Most people turned toward the grill. When they did, Incendio took advantage of the distraction and lobbed a ball of fire into the air toward the girl.
    “Look out!” I screamed.
    The couple turned their heads, spotted the blaze, and jumped back. It landed only a foot from them.
    “Run!” I yelled, and they darted into the woods.
    Incendio glared at me, bent down, and grabbed my arms. He flung me away from him and raised his hand like he was going to roast me.
    “Incendio, for pity’s sake, think about this!” Jordan said.
    Fire raged in Incendio’s eyes, but it slowly died out. He pointed a finger at me. “Not tonight, Red. But soon.”
    Incendio stalked away, and I stood up, trying to reclaim my dignity as I brushed off my dress. After my muddy yard, the saltwater swim, the flaming leap onto Incendio’s back, and now sliding through the grass, I doubted even Oxiclean could put it right.
    My body shook from the adrenaline rush as I looked around. I saw what Jordan had meant about the fae. It wasn’t only the brownies playing with the people. There were hobgoblins in the trees and nymphs on the fall flowers. Small eyes sparkled and watched us from the darkness.
    “Incendio’s crazy. Do the people in charge at WAM know that?” I asked Jordan.
    “He’s never been this bad. Working for the Conclave has gone to his head. He thinks he’s above the law, that they’ll cover up whatever he does,” Jordan muttered. “He’s wrong.”
    “But they’re not here. Do you have the power to stop him right now?” I asked.
    His scowl grew harsher. “That’s not your concern.”
    I kind of disagreed since he’d brought Mr. Torch and his taste for young girls to my town, but I decided not to argue, since it sounded like Jordan was going to talk to his bosses about Incendio. I had another problem. One that was all my fault . . .
    “Jordan, some faery magic seems to have been let loose today while I was under the influence of your curse from last night. What spell can we cast to undo it?” I asked, pointing to the wild-eyed people.
    “This isn’t witch magic. We’re under no obligation to do anything about it,” he said.
    “But—”
    “Concentrate on your own survival! You’ve lost Incendio’s help for good, and a whole day has been wasted. We have a near-impossible task ahead. You have to prepare.”
    “What’s the point if the fire part of the challenge is going to be so hard that only a Class Eight guy can get me ready for it?”
    “The challenge can be adjusted, but you have to show some effort. No more skipping our training sessions.”
    “It was your spell to ‘taste my magic’ that messed things up. I was planning to come to train with you.”
    “We wanted to evaluate your power, to assess its nature. The spell shouldn’t have affected your judgment.”
    “Well, it did. Around me, magic never works the way it’s supposed to.”
    He raised his brows slightly, looking skeptical.
    Then I got distracted when I spotted retired shrink Doc Barnaby. He’s seventy-two, and, tonight, like Incendio, he was trying to romance a younger woman. But in the case of the Widow Potts, who was sixty-one, it was a better match. A week ago, the doc had been trying to raise his dead wife from the grave because he was so lonely. So actually I wasn’t sorry to see him and the widow holding hands. Though I could’ve done without seeing them French kiss. Jiminy Crickets!
    “Look, I’ll train with you tomorrow, but tonight I have to break this up. See that woman over there? That’s Arlene. See who she’s dancing with? The man whose beer belly is hanging over his Aggie belt buckle? That’s not her husband. Her husband’s a Longhorn. This kind of thing can only end one way.” I paused. “Yep, gunfire.”
    “Good Lord.”
    “Exactly. Can you please help me do something about this mess?” I said, waving my arm toward the park.
    “I’m sorr y, love. Even if I knew anything about faery