Free Halfway Hexed by Kimberly Frost Page B

stainless steel bowl.
    Bryn nodded.
    “So who’s the Winterhawk?” I asked, setting flour, eggs, and milk on the granite countertop.
    “You know your way around my kitchen,” he said with a smile.
    “Well, I did make all those desserts for the party you didn’t have last week.” I cracked eggs into the bowl. “Winterhawk?”
    “Mrs. Thornton,” Bryn said. “Her personal life and background are murky. The rumor is that she was an assassin in the sixties and seventies, but the Conclave blocked her entry into their ranks for years. In 1980, she uncovered a plot. A powerful Croatian vampire coven planned to kill Rutherford—he was president of the WorldAssociation of Magic then.”
    I got out a small saucepan.
    “She led a day raid and slaughtered the vampires, but even after she saved his life, Rutherford didn’t recommend Mrs. Thornton for promotion into the Conclave. It was Barrett who supported her induction. She’s semiretired now, but whenever he travels to potentially dangerous political meetings, she goes with him, overseeing security.” Bryn smiled. “And he brought her to Duvall with him. We should be flattered.”
    “That’s just what I always wanted growingup—to make WAM’s Highest Threat to National Security List,” I said and snagged a bottle of Grand Marnier from the bar.
    Bryn ran a hand through his glossy black hair. “Don’t worry. The worst that can happen is they’ll lock us up for a couple decades.”
    “Is that all?” I swallowed hard, trying to keep my mind on food, which I always find so much more appetizing than jail.
    I made crepes with strawberries and a cream liqueur sauce for breakfast. Probably it was too early in the day for a hundred-proof dessert, but who knew what was going to happen to us. I planned to treat every meal like it might be our last.
    “Delicious,” Bryn said when he’d swallowed the last berry. “You’re a culinary genius.”
    “Thanks, candylegger,” I said, making him laugh. Edie had called him that once. It had been a backhanded compliment, some twenties slang about him being too charming to trust. Turned out she was right since he’d done a spell that blocked her from seeing me.
    “How is the family ghost? Still dripping venom from her phantom fangs?” he asked.
    I clucked my tongue. “She doesn’t have fangs.”
    “That you know about,” he said, getting up and putting his dish in the sink.
    “She’s going on a trip.”
    “Good for her. Tell her she should include a tour of the world’s cemeteries. Bangkok to Belfast. Shouldn’t take her less than a hundred and twenty years if she takes her time.”
    I smiled. “You’re terrible.”
    “Am I?” He leaned close and stole a kiss. While I caught my breath afterward, he emptied the pocket of his black bathrobe onto the table, looking for something. When he pulled out a small silver flask, he didn’t set it down. Instead he uncapped it and held it out to me.
    “I made you something.”
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “I don’t know how bad the interrogation will get. This is a precaution in case they try to drug us. A serum that protects against mind-altering potions. It’ll last about twelve hours.”
    I drank some. It tasted like onions mixed with dishwashing soap. I made a face and forced it down. So much for only consuming scrumptious stuff during the Conclave’s visit. I gagged a little, while he drank the rest of the liquid in the flask and glanced at the clock. Then he picked up a pill from the table. It was about half the size of an M&M.
    “This stone has a custom spell on it—one I call a resolution spell.”
    I tilted my head, giving him a questioning look, then I looked closely at what he’d given me. It wasn’t a pill. It was a pebble, stained with gritty reddish-brown paint.
    “Swallow it,” he said.
    I wanted to ask what was on it, but was afraid I might not want to know. So I poured some more milk into my glass, then placed the stone on the back of my tongue