else stomp down the stairs, someone else who had just had the rug of reality yanked from under her feet.
Under the detachment, her mind sifted and sorted the events of the last week. The unspoken conversation was now loud and clear. She’d been right. Everyone had been hiding something from her, although it was several orders of magnitude weirder than she could have imagined.
Meaghan expected at some point before the end of the day she’d find herself weeping and assuring herself that it was only stress and she couldn’t possibly have seen what she saw. But for now, she had to get Jamie back. Make him human instead of . . . what? A fairy?
Her mind rebelled at the thought. Only fifteen minutes ago, she knew there was no such thing as fairies. But now, who knew? The whole world had turned upside down. But that couldn’t be it. Weren’t fairies supposed to be all sparkly and pretty and childlike?
Jamie had merely been a smaller version of himself, with wings. Based on the full frontal naked view Meaghan had gotten, there was nothing in the least childlike about him. On the contrary, that leer he’d given her—if he’d been his normal size, she’d have kneed him in the balls and run like hell.
And he’d flashed Kady, pulling his tissue toga apart like a greasy raincoat. After he’d flipped her off.
Definitely not Tinkerbell.
The council office was on the second floor, at the opposite end of the hallway from the mayor’s office. Meaghan pushed open the door and strode in. A young woman—chubby, plain, wearing glasses, her brown hair in a ponytail—sat at a reception desk.
“Where’s Emily?” Meaghan barked.
Her voice quavering, the girl said, “Emily’s not available right now. If you’d like to make an appointment . . .”
Meaghan felt a stab of pity for the girl. Hurricane Meaghan had to be nearly as terrifying as Emily in full wicked-witch mode.
Trying to sound a bit less enraged, Meaghan said, “She’s going to see me now if I have to kick the goddamn door down. Please call her and tell her that.” With a quick smile to reassure the girl, Meaghan swept past her and into the office suite.
Another young woman waited, this one blond, and so tall and thin that she’d adopted the sad slouch shy girls got trying to hide in the crowd.
With a shaking hand, she pointed at the closed wooden door behind her. “In there,” she whispered. “Be careful.”
Meaghan smiled at her and nodded. Poor kid. Emily had handpicked assistants she could easily terrorize.
Bitch , Meaghan thought. A witch and a bitch. That thought was followed by the fervent prayer that Natalie was right about the impervious-to-magic thing. Meaghan pushed down her fear. After an entrance like she’d just made, there was no going back.
“Emily,” Meaghan shouted at the closed door. It flew open with a bang, but the doorway was empty.
Meaghan snorted. “Show off,” she muttered. She stepped through the doorway and looked around. Please, she thought, give me a break. The office walls were covered with cheerful motivational posters. There was a cutesy, crafty dried flower wreath on the wall above her desk with a placard dangling from it reading “Welcome!” She could smell potpourri.
My first encounter with an actual witch, Meaghan thought, and she’s freaking Martha Stewart.
Emily stood behind her immaculate desk. Jamie’s amulet lay in the middle of the gleaming glass desktop. Emily sneered at Meaghan, but Meaghan could see the fear behind the bravado. Emily began waving her arms and chanting. She raised her arm and made a throwing motion.
Meaghan felt a tiny shock, like walking across the carpet in socks and then touching a doorknob, nothing more.
Emily’s eyes widened. Her chanting grew louder and more guttural. She lifted both arms and made the same downward slashing motion Meaghan had seen upstairs.
Not even a shock this time.
More chanting and more arm waving. And still Meaghan stood there,
Under the detachment, her mind sifted and sorted the events of the last week. The unspoken conversation was now loud and clear. She’d been right. Everyone had been hiding something from her, although it was several orders of magnitude weirder than she could have imagined.
Meaghan expected at some point before the end of the day she’d find herself weeping and assuring herself that it was only stress and she couldn’t possibly have seen what she saw. But for now, she had to get Jamie back. Make him human instead of . . . what? A fairy?
Her mind rebelled at the thought. Only fifteen minutes ago, she knew there was no such thing as fairies. But now, who knew? The whole world had turned upside down. But that couldn’t be it. Weren’t fairies supposed to be all sparkly and pretty and childlike?
Jamie had merely been a smaller version of himself, with wings. Based on the full frontal naked view Meaghan had gotten, there was nothing in the least childlike about him. On the contrary, that leer he’d given her—if he’d been his normal size, she’d have kneed him in the balls and run like hell.
And he’d flashed Kady, pulling his tissue toga apart like a greasy raincoat. After he’d flipped her off.
Definitely not Tinkerbell.
The council office was on the second floor, at the opposite end of the hallway from the mayor’s office. Meaghan pushed open the door and strode in. A young woman—chubby, plain, wearing glasses, her brown hair in a ponytail—sat at a reception desk.
“Where’s Emily?” Meaghan barked.
Her voice quavering, the girl said, “Emily’s not available right now. If you’d like to make an appointment . . .”
Meaghan felt a stab of pity for the girl. Hurricane Meaghan had to be nearly as terrifying as Emily in full wicked-witch mode.
Trying to sound a bit less enraged, Meaghan said, “She’s going to see me now if I have to kick the goddamn door down. Please call her and tell her that.” With a quick smile to reassure the girl, Meaghan swept past her and into the office suite.
Another young woman waited, this one blond, and so tall and thin that she’d adopted the sad slouch shy girls got trying to hide in the crowd.
With a shaking hand, she pointed at the closed wooden door behind her. “In there,” she whispered. “Be careful.”
Meaghan smiled at her and nodded. Poor kid. Emily had handpicked assistants she could easily terrorize.
Bitch , Meaghan thought. A witch and a bitch. That thought was followed by the fervent prayer that Natalie was right about the impervious-to-magic thing. Meaghan pushed down her fear. After an entrance like she’d just made, there was no going back.
“Emily,” Meaghan shouted at the closed door. It flew open with a bang, but the doorway was empty.
Meaghan snorted. “Show off,” she muttered. She stepped through the doorway and looked around. Please, she thought, give me a break. The office walls were covered with cheerful motivational posters. There was a cutesy, crafty dried flower wreath on the wall above her desk with a placard dangling from it reading “Welcome!” She could smell potpourri.
My first encounter with an actual witch, Meaghan thought, and she’s freaking Martha Stewart.
Emily stood behind her immaculate desk. Jamie’s amulet lay in the middle of the gleaming glass desktop. Emily sneered at Meaghan, but Meaghan could see the fear behind the bravado. Emily began waving her arms and chanting. She raised her arm and made a throwing motion.
Meaghan felt a tiny shock, like walking across the carpet in socks and then touching a doorknob, nothing more.
Emily’s eyes widened. Her chanting grew louder and more guttural. She lifted both arms and made the same downward slashing motion Meaghan had seen upstairs.
Not even a shock this time.
More chanting and more arm waving. And still Meaghan stood there,
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