Back before my magic kicked in, this was the only kind of potion making I got to do—mixing ingredients and creating beautiful, delicious treats for people to enjoy. Then again, who am I kidding? Even with my new powers, this is still the only mixing I get to do. Potions are really more of my mother’s thing. Hence the reason I know so much about them. When I was younger, and still trying to be her, I struggled with hundreds of different potions, desperate to get one right. Just one.
It never happened, though, and eventually I moved to Austin to get away from the craziness of being the only latent princess in Ipswitch’s history. I was a huge embarrassment to my family—a reminder of how things could go terribly wrong—so I figured it was best to get out of town. Plus, here I can live my own life, relatively safe from my mother’s interference. At least some of the time.
Of course, now that my powers are kicking in, things are getting weird on that front on a whole new level. My mom wants me back in Ipswitch, even though my life is here. Now that I finally have magic, she expects me to claim my rightful place in the family, but the fact of the matter is, I’m in no way ready to go back to the restrictions of that life. Especially not now that I have Declan.
After I prep the chocolate chip cookie and sugar cookie dough, I set about making the red velvet cupcakes I try to do a couple of times a week. I’d have them every day—they’re big sellers—but they’re my favorites, too, and if I have too much access to them, I completely lose the ability to fit into my jeans.
As I’m whipping up the batter, I try to ignore the fact that I may not be able to stay in Austin much longer. Oh, I have no intention of giving Beanz up—I love this place—but it’s only a matter of time before my mom and dad get wind of what really happened here a couple of weeks ago. So far, Donovan has covered for me—telling them that my involvement with Kyle came only from my magic and not because he was hired by the Council to kill me.
He’s convinced I should tell them the truth, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he takes things out of my hands. But if they had a clue what was really going on, we’d end up at war with the ACW. And while Ipswitch is the biggest seat of Hekan power in the world, going up against the Council is an act of treason (something I keep trying to remind Declan of). Without absolute proof, and probably even with it, my parents would end up locked in a power struggle of epic proportions. And if that happens, there’s no guarantee how it will work out. Yes, my mom and dad are among the most powerful practitioners of Heka on the planet. But so are the Council members.
The only thing about the outcome I am sure of is that it wouldn’t be a fair fight.
So, no, I won’t let my family get pulled into this until I have no other choice. It kills me, already, all the agony that Declan has had to suffer through the years. Letting the Council get their hooks into anyone else that I care about is not going to happen. Not if I have any say in it.
I pop the cupcakes in the oven, set the timer. Start in on the batter for my chocolate chip brownies. And think back over my discussion with Declan. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should just step back and hope that whoever’s gunning for the Council gets them all. Hell, maybe we should help them. We could figure out who the corrupt Councilors are and then just take care of—
Horror sweeps through me as I realize what I’m thinking about. What I’m contemplating. It doesn’t make sense, not when I’ve been so determined to keep Declan from violence.
So where are the thoughts coming from? My stomach clenches, rolls. I press my hand to it, try to breathe through the nausea that isn’t really nausea. It’s something else, something darker. I don’t feel sick exactly, but I don’t feel normal, either. It’s like there’s something else creeping through me, a darkness whispering through my veins and staining everything it comes in contact with.
Before I can do anything with that knowledge, Travis sticks his head through the kitchen doorway. “Hey, Xan, couple more guys here to see you.”
“Who are they?”
“They didn’t give their names. But they’re determined to talk to you.”
I wait for more—more description, a few pithy observations, something—but Travis is strangely subdued. Not concerned, exactly, but not comfortable with this newest development, either.
His discomfort is what gets me moving. I quickly wash my hands and strip off my apron before heading to the front of the shop. If Travis is disconcerted, something major must be going on.
Two men in dark suits and sunglasses are standing next to the counter. They don’t look impatient, exactly, but they don’t look like they’re willing to wait much longer for me, either. Not that I’m surprised. After all, I know who they are the moment I lay eyes on them. They aren’t exactly subtle.