 
### Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: A Study In Mischief

### A Lily Singer Adventures Novella

Copyright 2016 by Lydia Sherrer

All rights reserved.

Published by Chenoweth Press

Distributed by Smashwords

Cover art by Tony Warne

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

### Table of Contents

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Chapter One: A Grand Kerfuffle

Chapter Two: Uneasy Allies

Chapter Three: Butting Heads

Chapter Four: Not So Bad After All

Epilogue

Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Beginnings PREVIEW

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Chapter One

### A Grand Kerfuffle

Lily Singer—archivist, wizard, and unapologetic bibliophile—was rather obsessive about keeping her environment in good order. She couldn't stand for things to be dirty or out of place. It was rather ironic, then, that she hated cleaning.

Organizing, filing, and straightening were fine—she enjoyed bringing order out of chaos. But anything involving the removal of filth, especially decaying food, was disgusting. That didn't stop her from doing it, of course, but it transformed what could have been a satisfying chore into a thorn in her side.

So it was with mixed feelings that she knelt in the middle of her friend's living room floor, hands sheathed in latex gloves, distastefully picking through a six-inch drift of debris—a mix of food wrappers, old mail, cans, bottles, dirty laundry, shriveled apple cores, moldy banana peels, and other, less identifiable, items.

It was a shame real magic wasn't as convenient and all-purpose as what you saw in the movies. There was no bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, no illogical waving of a wand to make things start cleaning themselves. No, magic was a powerful but dangerous tool, best understood as science that the mundanes—non-magical folk—hadn't figured out how to explain yet. For simple things like cleaning, it was best to use elbow grease, lest you accidentally set your house on fire.

Her friend Sebastian Blackwell was a witch and extremely good at getting things done—that is, things he wanted done. He was notoriously apathetic when it came to any task he deemed unexciting. And cleaning was about the most unexciting activity imaginable.

This was understandable, since he spent most of his time making deals with fairies, escaping impossible situations, and charming the ladies in the process. It was fortunate he wasn't a wizard himself, that is, born with magical abilities like Lily. Otherwise, he might have attempted to spell away the mess, consequences be damned. But, since he was just a mundane, working through artifacts and deals with magical folk to get things done, he'd obviously decided that ignoring the mess was the best solution. Perhaps he could have bribed his fae friends to make a dent in it—they preferred rum, she'd been told—but that would have been a waste of good alcohol.

Things had finally come to a head when he fell ill with food poisoning and needed Lily to play nursemaid for a few days. After having to wade through the mess to reach his bedroom, she'd made him promise, on pain of being eternally cut off from a supply of her cheese scones, that he would help her clean his apartment as soon as he'd recovered. Lily hadn't felt the least bit guilty about taking advantage of him in his state of sickness, since she was certain his untidy lifestyle had caused it in the first place.

"Come on, Lil. Have mercy. Do I really have to do this?" Sebastian asked plaintively from the kitchen. He was standing, scrub brush in one hand, dish soap in the other, staring at the Bog of Eternal Stench—otherwise known as his kitchen sink.

"If you weren't such an inattentive slob, you wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place," Lily scolded, grimacing and turning her head away in disgust as she gingerly placed a mostly empty, molding carton of milk in her trash bag. "When was the last time you cleaned this place, anyway? Before the fall of Rome?"

"Hey, I like my apartment the way it is," he protested. "I know where everything is—"

"Except the medicine and chicken broth," Lily pointed out.

"—and I save massive amounts of my valuable time by not obsessing over every speck of dust."

"Except when you get food poisoning from your own cooking and spend two days being sick in the bathroom."

"I knew I shouldn't have tried making that bacon donut burger," he muttered to himself.

"Possibly the most unhealthy excuse for a meal I've ever heard of. It's a wonder you haven't had a heart attack."

"For the love of catnip, can't you two get along for one minute without bickering? You're as bad as an old married couple," came an annoyed meow from the direction of the bookcase. Perched on the highest shelf beside an untidy pile of comic books sat a long-haired grey cat with white-tipped nose, chin, paws, and tail.

Sir Edgar Allan Kipling—magical talking cat extraordinaire—had taken refuge in the place known to cats simply as "up." He'd chosen this strategic position in anticipation, no doubt, of that monster which usually accompanied Lily's bouts of cleaning frenzy: the vacuum. It was a rivalry that stretched back into the ages, and, despite his newfound "human" understanding, Sir Kipling obviously considered himself duty-bound to maintain it. Though, judging by their progress so far, it would be several days before that particular device came into play. "If I didn't know any better," the sardonic feline continued, "I'd have thought you two were sworn enemies."

"Some days I wonder," Lily muttered, though an upward twitch of her lips belied her words.

"Hey, what did he say?" Sebastian asked, sticking his head into the living room, a puzzled look on his face.

His puzzlement was expected, since Sir Kipling didn't actually talk, not in English anyway. In one of Lily and Sebastian's many adventures together, her then-normal feline had stuck his nose where it didn't belong one too many times and ended up being blessed—or cursed, depending on which day you asked him—by an ancient and powerful being. It gave him human intelligence, but, unfortunately, Lily was the only one who could decipher his meows.

"He says we act like sworn enemies, not friends," Lily summarized, holding up a pair of socks and trying to decide if they were salvageable.

Sebastian let out a barking laugh. "Ha! You should have seen us when we first met, Kip. Sparks flew as thick and fast as at a Fourth of July picnic."

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn't quite hide a fond smile.

"Mmm, I can imagine," Sir Kipling said, tail twitching. "How did you two meet, anyway?"

At Sebastian's questioning look, Lily relayed her cat's words, causing her friend's face to light up with excitement. "It's a fabulous story, let me tell you," he began, casting about for somewhere to put down his brush and soap.

"Oh no you don't!" Lily gave him the stink eye, causing him to wilt. "I'll tell the story. You get your butt over to the sink and start scrubbing."

"But—"

"No buts."

"But—"

"One more complaint, and I'll tell your great-aunt you still call her an old bat."

Sebastian's mouth snapped shut, and he drew himself up, attempting a dignified look. "You, madam, are the very definition of dastardly. I find myself with no recourse but to give in to your nefarious demands."

"Uh-huh," Lily said, unimpressed. "Now, less talking and more cleaning."

With a dirty look over his shoulder, Sebastian returned to his task, though he kept an ear cocked to hear her story.

Lily, being more motivated than Sebastian to complete the task at hand, continued cleaning as she began her tale. "If I recall correctly, it was about a year and a half ago. I'd graduated from Agnes Scott the year before and was working as head librarian at McCain Library. At that point Madam Barrington was still the archivist, but she'd been training me to take over. We were continuing our magic lessons, of course—she was my mentor after all. I remember it was winter break, and most of the students had left for the holidays...

About a year and a half ago:

The freezing December wind bit into Lily's exposed skin, making her shiver as she hurried toward the auction house door. Such discomfort was unusual in Atlanta, as the temperature rarely dropped below freezing and snow was a terrifying thing of myth and legend. Lily sighed in relief as she entered the warm refuge of the lobby. She'd broken out her only pair of gloves that morning and had even dug in the back of her closet for a hat and scarf. Cold weather was not her cup of tea.

Having braved the cold, Lily looked around for the front desk. She was there to retrieve a certain lot of items Madam Barrington had recently purchased in an estate auction. The deceased gentleman, from what Lily understood, had been an especially eccentric and reclusive wizard who had died suddenly with no close family. He'd been an acquaintance of her mentor, however, so Madam Barrington had acted promptly to ensure none of his small but respectable collection of spell books and artifacts found their way into mundane hands. The books were to be added to the Basement's collection—that secret magical archive hidden beneath McCain Library, of which Madam Barrington was the caretaker. The rest of the items would be "well cared for," as her mentor cryptically put it. Her mentor was often cryptic, not to mention vague, and even downright secretive. Over the five and a half years since Lily had begun studying magic, she'd learned that for every question Madam Barrington would answer, there were five she would not.

Finally spotting an employee rearranging a window display, Lily approached and was directed to the back of the building where the office manager greeted her.

"Ah, Miss Singer. We've been expecting you. Robert has your items in the back. If I could see your receipt, please?"

Lily dug in her purse and handed the piece of paper to the woman, who checked a few numbers on her computer and handed it back with a smile. "Thank you, Miss Singer. If you'll wait here, I'll have Robert bring it all out."

The office manager disappeared through a door while Lily waited by the desk, looking around at the various antiques and collectables artfully arranged into every available space.

"Buy anything interesting?"

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin. The voice had come from directly behind, almost on top of her, yet she hadn't heard a single whisper of cloth or tap of a shoe to warn of the person's approach. She spun, suppressing her squeak of surprise.

The first thing she saw was a pair of chocolate-brown eyes, framed by dark curls of unruly hair and alight with amused mischief. The spark in the man's eyes extended down to his round, boyish cheeks—currently lifted in an easy smile that showed not-so-pearly, nor perfectly straight, teeth. Far from detracting from his appearance, they added a delightful quirkiness to a face already gushing with charming personality. All of which prompted a self-conscious blush to rise in Lily's cheeks as she stepped back, running into the desk behind her with a bump.

"I—excuse me. I didn't—that is..." Lily babbled, looking down in embarrassment at her overreaction. Her gaze lit on the man's lean chest, sheathed in a collared shirt, which, despite its rumpled state, still managed to give him an air of casual elegance. Noticing this, of course, made her blush even more furiously, and she looked to the side, desperately searching for a distraction.

"No, pardon me, miss. I didn't mean to startle you," the man apologized, his words as polite as could be. His tone, however, carried hints of laughter, which made Lily glance back up to give him a stern look, lips pursed in displeasure. Despite a shy and awkward personality, she had a stubborn streak as wide as an Atlanta interstate. She did not appreciate being mocked.

"Think nothing of it, sir," Lily replied, drawing herself up in as dignified a manner as she could manage with cheeks still burning and back against a desk.

"If you insist, but it would be a shame. They say you should enjoy the little things in life."

Lily stared at him, trying to puzzle out whether he'd just insulted her or not.

"But since you asked—and I make it a rule to humor beautiful women—I'll let it pass this once," he continued, flashing her a brilliant smile as he moved to the side and leaned against the desk in a languid, unconcerned fashion.

Thrown off by his brazen words, Lily's mind worked furiously to come up with a sufficiently biting reply.

Her impromptu companion seemed to take her silence as an encouragement to keep talking. "So, get anything interesting at the auction? Most of it was exceedingly boring, of course, though that naughty pair of ivory statuettes from India caught my eye, if you know what I mean." He winked conspiratorially at her.

"I most certainly do not," Lily spluttered, her dislike for the man solidifying despite, or perhaps because of, his handsome charm. "I wasn't even here for the auction. I'm just picking up some books and other items for my employer."

"Books?" the man's expression brightened. "Excellent choice. I love books. My house is one big library. Even the bed is made of bookshelves."

"Is that so?" Lily attempted to remain polite but was not quite able to suppress her sarcasm. She knew a pickup line when she heard one, though this gentleman was a welcome change from the creeps she usually had to fend off. Not that she spent much time fending off men, of course. Mostly it was just the odd message on her online dating profile—her preferred arena, since it required no personal interactions.

"Absolutely," the man enthused, oblivious to, or simply ignoring, her suppressive tone. "And—ah, speak of the devil, these must be them," he said, straightening his lanky frame as he looked over Lily's shoulder.

Lily turned to see an older man, probably Robert, approaching with a stack of three boxes. He deposited them on the desk, then had Lily sign a form acknowledging that she'd taken possession of the enclosed items. She thanked him and Robert turned a questioning eye on the young man who'd been bothering her.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"Oh nothing, nothing at all. I was just looking around," he said easily, his smile as innocent as a newborn babe.

"Of course, sir. Feel free to call one of us if you have questions about an item."

"Thank you. I certainly will."

"Ma'am," Robert nodded to Lily, then turned and went about his business.

Testing the weight of the boxes, Lily decided to take the books first, by themselves, rather than risk dropping anything on her way out. They were heavy, but not so heavy that she couldn't manage. Her oxford heels and calf-length pencil skirt didn't make the task any easier, but one had to make sacrifices. Hefting the box, she turned toward the door but was blocked by the handsome, and increasingly annoying, gentleman.

"Let me carry that for you," he said. "It's the least I can do after giving you such a fright." His smile was simply warm this time, without any hint of mockery. Lily felt herself begin to thaw but then straightened her spine, stubbornly resisting the charm which oozed from every pore like a heady perfume.

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, thank you," she said, attempting to sidestep him.

"Nonsense," he protested, reaching out to grasp the box and attempting to lift it from her hands. But Lily was quite fed up with being importuned, and she pulled back. They struggled briefly, each seeking to gain possession of the box.

"Let go of my box!" she hissed, not wanting to attract any more attention.

"Be reasonable," he said, easy smile never wavering, even as they struggled. "It's slippery outside and you wouldn't want to trip—oops!" With affected surprise, he executed a sort of stumbling twist, which threw them both off balance. Teetering backward, she let go of the box to catch herself and watched in horror as it fell to the floor with a smack, bursting its tape and spilling antique books out across the floor.

Only...they weren't antique books. This odd fact slowly percolated through her outraged brain as she puffed herself up, preparing an angry tirade—the unfortunate byproduct of a seldom seen but no less fiery temper inherited from her mother.

"I am so sorry. I can't believe my clumsiness, here let me..." the young man trailed off, having dived to the floor after the books and begun rummaging through them. He too picked up on the fact that something was distinctly amiss. Holding up a worn copy of a popular—but poorly written—vampire romance novel, he gave her a quizzical look. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't recall sparkling vampires being mentioned when this lot went up for bid."

Hands on hips, Lily glared down at the pile of second-hand young adult novels, volumes of science fiction, fantasy, and romance scattered about the floor, her ire temporarily deflected by this new annoyance.

"What in the world is going on here?" she demanded of the room in general. Suspicion aroused, she moved to the desk and cut the tape holding the other two boxes. Reaching in, she pulled out a bubble-wrapped coffee cup from one and a pack of granola bars from the other.

"I do believe, madam, that you've been had," the young man said, a look of consternation on his face.

Lily whirled on him. "This is your fault, I'm sure of it."

"What? Don't look at me. I haven't touched these boxes. I only wanted to look—that is, I was only trying to be helpful, and—"

"I knew it! What did you do? Where are my things?"

Her increasingly loud cries had finally attracted attention, and several employees came at a run.

"What's going on? Please, Miss Singer, lower your voice," the office manager said, putting a calming hand on Lily's arm.

Embarrassed, Lily shut her mouth. It was quite unlike her to get this agitated. She was usually calm and collected. But there was something about that young man which put her on edge. It was as if his very presence raised her blood pressure.

Being an introvert, she always found interpersonal interaction awkward and considered it easiest to hide behind the fortifying wall of professionalism. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she was head librarian of McCain Library and there was work to be done.

Calmly, things were explained, items were examined, and alarmed looks were exchanged by the staff. Robert was sent to double-check the inventory, ensuring he hadn't brought out the wrong boxes. Of course, the fact that the auction house had never sold a single young adult novel or coffee cup was a pretty clear indication the items had been swapped.

As they waited for Robert's return, Lily felt a hand grasp her bicep and pull her toward a corner of the room. Glaring up at the young man's face, she tried to ignore her quickening pulse.

"So, you know if they report this to the police you'll never see your stuff again, right?" he muttered, keeping an eye on the rest of the room. His carefree charm had evaporated, replaced by a much more businesslike demeanor, though it did little to dampen the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, and you know why that is?" she demanded, wresting her arm from his grip and poking him hard in the chest. "Because this is your doing! I'm sure of it. Why else would you be hanging around, eager to get your hands on my box of books? Go on, confess." Arms crossed, she glared at him.

Placing a hand on his chest, he gave her an indignant look that, once again, didn't quite hide the twinkle in his eye. "Me? Steal? You wound me with your baseless accusations."

Lily snorted, the unladylike noise gaining her a raised eyebrow from her companion.

"If you were as smart as you are beautiful," he drawled, "you'd realize that, had I taken the books, I'd have no reason to bandy about here, attempting to steal your box of terrible teen fiction. I only wanted to look at them, nothing more."

There it was again, that infuriating insult wrapped up in a compliment. But this time she refused to take the bait. "And if you were as honest as you are impertinent, you'd have asked politely to see them instead of trying to trick me. I don't buy it. What are you up to?"

Instead of replying, the man glanced over at the gathered auction house employees as they whispered among themselves. His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be evaluating them. Finally, he turned back to her. "I'll make you a deal. You ask the auction house to give you a day before reporting this to the police, and I'll help you find your things. And explain what I'm up to," he added in response to her stubborn glare.

Lily shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line. "Not happening. I'm not working with you. You're impolite and reckless. If that had been my box of books, you could have damaged some extremely valuable antiques. You're going to tell me everything you know, right now, and then you're going to leave and never bother me again."

Sighing, the man drew closer, speaking in a voice so low Lily had to lean in to hear him. "Look, without my help, you're never going to see that stuff again. It's...special, right? Not something you'd want...normal people messing with? Well I'm guessing someone else knew it was 'special,' too, and used their 'special' powers to make it disappear. Being a rather special person myself"—he chuckled at his own joke—"I can help you find them."

Narrowing her eyes, Lily considered his words, trying hard not to let her face show the surprise she felt. If she was not mistaken, this man was implying that he was a wizard. But he couldn't be. Wizards could recognize each other. The telltales were faint, but any wizard could sense magic nearby if they were looking for it, and it took serious cloaking spells to hide that sort of aura. She hadn't gotten a single whiff of magic off this man. And yet, there was something about him, something...different. It was a bit of a leap, but she decided to play along. She wasn't looking forward to explaining to Madam Barrington how her artifacts had mysteriously disappeared. Looking for them herself seemed like a much better plan than reporting things to the police and going home empty-handed.

"Fine. But this isn't a partnership. We're doing this my way and you will do what I say," she said, emphasizing the "I" with a forceful poke to his sternum. "And every word out of your mouth had better be the truth, or so help me I'll find something very 'special' to do to you. Got it?" Another poke.

"Alright, alright. Jeez, lay off with the finger, will you?" the man complained, looking askance at her as he rubbed his chest. "How do you plan to convince them to let us investigate?"

"I don't know," Lily said, frowning. "Just ask, I suppose."

Now it was the man's turn to snort. "Good luck with that. No, we'll tell them I'm a PI, and you're retaining my services to investigate the issue and bring about a quiet resolution. Minimal fuss. No public record. They'll jump at that."

Lily's eyebrow shot up. "And are you a private investigator?"

"Of a sort," he said, a smug grin pulling at his lips.

"I see." She was about to follow that with "no lying," but then realized that, as "special" people, it was their job to lie to mundanes to keep them in happy ignorance, for their own protection as much as for wizards. "I suppose it can't hurt. But what makes you think they'll believe you?"

"Because I'm a professional," he said, winking and tipping an imaginary hat. "Sebastian Blackwell, at your service." Before she could comment, or even return the introduction, Robert emerged from the back room and all attention focused on him.

The older man, a nervous, haggard look on his face, confirmed that the items were indeed missing and not simply mislaid. At this point Sebastian jumped in, charm turned up to full blast. It took convincing, specifically some offhand comments about newspaper headlines and the fragility of professional reputations, but he was able to get the office manager to agree to their request as well as allow them to question the employees and inspect the storage space.

While Sebastian's suave, unconcerned manner grated on her nerves—and she was still trying to keep her pulse from picking up every time he turned those handsome, chocolate-brown eyes on her—by the time the conversation was over, Lily had to give him some grudging respect. The man knew how to talk, there was no doubt about it. She suspected he regularly talked his way into, and out of, all sorts of mischief with that silver tongue of his. It was a skill she'd never seemed to grasp, and to this day she dreaded conversation unless it was about books or work.

She didn't like Sebastian. They would never be friends, and she looked forward to the day when she would be free of his smug, self-satisfied voice. But at least he seemed competent enough that they might, just maybe, find the stolen artifacts.
Chapter Two

### Uneasy Allies

"Never be friends, huh?" Sebastian asked in amusement, one eyebrow raised as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, soap and scrub brush forgotten.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You have no idea how annoying you can be. Believe me, things could have easily gone the other way."

Sir Kipling yawned, showing pink gums and sharp, white teeth. "Yes. I kept wondering why you didn't simply curse the impertinent wretch and get on with it."

Lily choked back a laugh, pursing her lips to stave off the grin threatening to march across her face. She was only partially successful. "Oh, I don't know. His impertinence sort of grows on you, don't you think?"

"Wait, my impertinence? What are you talking about? What did Kip say?" Sebastian looked back and forth between them, perturbed.

"Nothing, really. He's just surprised your mouth hasn't gotten you killed yet."

"Whoa, wait a minute. My mouth?" Sebastian looked affronted. "What about you? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were a professional contortionist, with how much time your foot spends in your mouth.

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"

"Heck yeah. Not to mention your little 'holier-than-thou' act. That's going to get you killed some day."

She scowled, attempting to cross her arms before realizing she still held several unidentifiable pieces of dirty clothing. She dropped them in disgust. "Fine. Since you think you know so much, why don't you continue the story and we'll see if Sir Kipling agrees with your description of me. After all, he has known me for...wait, how old are you Kip?"

"That's hardly a polite question to ask," he replied.

"Oh, come on," Lily said. "You're a cat, not a woman."

"No, no. I meant not polite to you. Cats never ask for each other's age. They just know."

"And how do they know?"

"Cat magic."

Lily sighed in exasperation, refusing to continue a long-running argument between them. He claimed cats simply had a better understanding of the world in general, and physics specifically, than humans. That's why they could accomplish such impossible feats. Sir Kipling called this "cat magic," ignoring Lily's constant attempts to make him admit that the being who had gifted him with intelligence had also given him "real" magic.

"Look, never mind," she turned back to Sebastian. "The point is, I'll bet your version is just as skewed as you seem to think mine is. Go on, let's hear it." She made an impatient gesture, cleaning forgotten.

"Well," Sebastian began, clearing his throat, "after my masterful persuasion of the office manager..."

About a year and a half ago, and one impertinent wretch later:

While Sebastian enjoyed mystery and intrigue as much as the next person, that didn't make him any less displeased with the turn of events. This was supposed to have been a simple job, easy money. He should have known better. Fate seemed to have a grudge against him.

His one consolation was the stunningly pretty girl he'd stumbled upon. Intelligent, graceful, refined, she was the picture of feminine perfection. Even better were her reactions. He hadn't had this much fun teasing a girl since high school. It was a shame she was a wizard. They were the most sanctimonious lot of gits he'd ever had the misfortune to encounter. Hopefully she would have the sense to stay out of the way and let him handle things. He didn't need a bunch of flashy magic making his job harder.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved the mystery yet?" came an impatient voice behind him. He made a face she couldn't see, then straightened, brushing off his hands as he turned to confront her scowl. They were alone in the storage room at the back of the auction house where he'd spent the last few minutes combing the area for clues.

"Colonel Mustard, with a candlestick, in the library," he quipped, taking off and polishing an imaginary monocle as he gave her his most serious expression.

"What?" She looked utterly confused.

"You know, the...never mind," he said, giving up. Waste of a good joke. "There's no sign of a break-in. The back door is one of those industrial ones with no handle on the outside. You can't get in unless you're let in. Robert says he packed up and labeled the boxes this morning, so all the items were here as of about six hours ago."

"He could be lying," the attractive wizard pointed out.

Sebastian shook his head. "He wasn't."

"How would you know? Do you read minds?" she said, making no effort to hide her sarcasm.

He shrugged, resisting the urge to dig out the coin from his pocket and start playing with it. "Maybe I'm just good at reading people. Look, for now, let's assume I'm right," he said, holding up a hand to forestall her protest. "The point is, if someone didn't break in by 'normal' means, that leaves two possibilities: either it was an inside job, or our thief was magical. Or both. You're the wizard, can't you check for—I don't know—magic residue or something?"

"Hush!" the girl said, looking around with a startled expression. "Don't just come out and say it like that. Someone might be listening. And how do you know I'm a wizard?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice. "Have you been following me?"

Sebastian grinned. "Not yet, though I'd be happy to oblige."

She scowled, obviously not satisfied with his answer.

Chuckling, he made a dismissive gesture. "It wasn't hard. Your lot are easy to spot. You all hold your noses so high, like you think you're drowning in sewage or something."

"Excuse me?" the girl spluttered, proverbial thunderclouds gathering overhead, and Sebastian decided this was the right moment to back off. No point in prolonging an already vexing situation.

"Hey, don't take it personally," he said. "You're all raised to think you're God's gift to mankind, the superior race. It's no wonder you don't know how to act like normal people."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because his companion's eyes flashed alarmingly and her voice grew dangerously quiet. "I'll have you know, buster"—more chest poking—"that I didn't know I was a wizard until I started college. I was raised on an Alabama cotton farm and have had to deal with things that a pretty boy like you couldn't imagine. If you want to hold some juvenile grudge against wizards, be my guest. But right now we have a job to do, so shut it. Or I'll shut it for you."

Wow, Sebastian thought, thoroughly impressed. That was magnificent. He wasn't about to push his luck, but there was something about her reactions that made him want to keep poking at her. Every time he did, she surprised him with something delightful and unexpected. For the moment, though...

"Alright, alright." He raised his hands in surrender. "You're not a normal wizard. I get it. Now could you please get off my foot?"

"Oh!" She jumped back, almost knocking over a pile of boxes behind her. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't realize..." she mumbled, eyes downcast as she steadied the teetering pile. There was that blush again, Sebastian thought. Man, oh man, was it adorable.

When she didn't look up again, or speak, he paused, puzzled at her sudden change in behavior. She acted normal enough, even plucky when challenged. But get her embarrassed or self-conscious and she shut down. He sighed.

"Look, if we're going to work together, we should at least introduce ourselves properly." He held out his hand. "I'm Sebastian Blackwell, witch for hire."

She finally looked at him. Her expression had gone politely blank, though there was a hint of wary curiosity behind her eyes. "Lily Singer, head librarian at McCain Library of Agnes Scott College."

Sebastian's ears perked at the mention of Agnes Scott and he felt a twinge of apprehension. If she worked there, then surely she knew...no, better not to mention it. No point opening that can of worms.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Singer."

"Likewise, Mr. Blackwell."

She gripped his hand briefly, then dropped it as if it were a hot potato. His skin tingled where they'd touched, and for some reason he couldn't help smiling.

After a suitably awkward pause, Sebastian clapped his hands together. "Well, that was fun. Now that we've gotten the formalities out of the way, let's find some stolen artifacts, shall we?"

He thought he saw the twitch of a smile on Lily's lips, but perhaps he'd imagined it, because the next moment she looked as serious and businesslike as, well, a librarian. Which she was.

"You mentioned magic residue," she said in a prim voice. "I can tell you that no spells were cast on anything in this room. That doesn't mean a wizard didn't enter and leave using a spell cast elsewhere, but it would have been self-contained. Nothing here has been touched by magic."

"Got it. Next step is to check the security cameras, which they're probably doing right now, so hopefully they'll give us a peek. Then we need to question the employees."

Lily looked uncomfortable at that, which made Sebastian chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of the questioning. You just use your little wizardy-sense to let me know if there's any hocus pocus going on, got it?"

She glared at him, that adorable look where she thought she was being intimidating, but actually looked about as ferocious as an angry kitten. "I would appreciate it if you'd treat the situation with a bit more gravity. Potentially dangerous magical artifacts have gone missing, artifacts that could cause serious damage in the wrong hands. People could get hurt, and you're treating it like a game."

"Life is a game, Miss Singer. The only question is whether you're going to enjoy it or crimp everyone else's style with that grumpy face of yours." With that, he spun and headed for the door, ignoring her gasp of indignation. He was glad she couldn't see the grin on his face. She might start poking him again.

A preliminary examination of the security footage revealed nothing at all, which in itself was revealing.

"Play that back," Lily requested, leaning over Robert's shoulder. Being the resident expert on magic, she'd taken a front seat to the spectacularly boring stream of absolutely nothing. But her sharp eye must have caught something in the sped-up replay, because when Robert went back to the section she'd indicated, they witnessed something very strange: the back door opening and closing on its own.

"Now, play it on from here at normal speed." She bent down, squinting at the monitor. "Here," she said, pointing. They all leaned close. Robert scratched his head, but Sebastian knew what to look for, now that the wizard had clued him in. He saw the spotty, fuzzy outline of a person, as if they'd cast some sort of invisibility spell but done a clumsy job of it. He looked up and exchanged a knowing glance with Lily.

"Huh, I don't see anything," Robert said, shrugging.

"Never mind," Sebastian quickly dismissed him. "She must have been seeing things. There's nothing on the tape, so if you don't mind we'd like to speak with each of the employees."

Robert gave him an odd look but rose to go round up the requested interviewees. As soon as he'd left, Sebastian looked at Lily, who nodded affirmative.

"Definitely a wizard, though one of questionable skills. What you saw there was a badly performed invisibility glamour. While no spell can grant true invisibility—at least not the way mundanes imagine it—a good glamour can achieve a similar effect. This one, however, was all splotchy and uneven." She sniffed in disapproval, as if insulted by the very idea of a wizard plying their skills with anything less than perfection.

"Are you sure? That it was a wizard, I mean. The thief could have gotten an invisibility...I don't know, charm or cloak or something from a wizard, right? I mean, witches make it their business to get ahold of every magical gadget they can get their hands on. Couldn't a wizard be selling invisibility charms?" He tried to keep any undue eagerness out of his voice as he spoke. If he could find a wizard willing to sell him charmed objects, his competition would be doomed.

His eagerness dimmed, however, at the look of abject horror on Lily's face.

"Good heavens, no!" she gasped. "Are you insane? No wizard in their right mind would even dream of letting magic fall into the hands of a witch. Think of the damage they might do. No, no. It just isn't done."

Eyebrow raised, he gave her a grim smile. "A witch like me you mean?"

"Well—that is—I didn't mean to imply—" she stammered, looking flustered.

He sighed, but gave a wave of dismissal, "Forget it. It's nothing I haven't heard before. Wizards think witches are power-hungry demon-worshipers and witches think wizards are stuck-up pricks who wouldn't give a furry crack of a rat's behind if you keeled over dead in front of them."

They were silent for a moment.

"So, um...are you?" Lily asked, not looking at him.

"Am I what? A furry crack of a rat's behind?" He knew full well what she was asking, but rather enjoyed watching her squirm.

"No! No, I mean...well...you know. What you said."

He grinned. "A power-hungry demon-worshiper?"

"Um, yes," she said, daring a glance at him. Her eyes widened at his toothy smile.

Holding her gaze, he replied. "Do I really look that stupid?"

"Weeelll..." she began.

"Wait, no, don't answer that." He held up his hand, giving a rueful chuckle. "My point is, people who associate with demons are morons, no if, ands, or buts. Demons are dangerous, evil, and very, very crafty. I am many things, but brainless isn't one of them.

She seemed to relax then, a tension leaving her that he hadn't noticed until it was gone.

"What, did you think I got my 'powers' from demons?" He asked, incredulous.

"I mean...I couldn't be sure. My mentor has warned me about witches..." she trailed off.

"As well she should," Sebastian growled, annoyed, yet unable to deny the stigma of his kind. He opened his mouth again, intending to deliver a crash-course on witches and clear up a few misconceptions, when he heard voices approaching the door. "Look, we can finish this conversation later. Just to be clear, you think a wizard entered the storeroom, hiding from the security cameras using a cloaking spell, and swapped the contents of the boxes?"

Lily nodded.

"Good. Now we just have to figure out who let him in."

That got him a puzzled look, but he ignored it, aiming a pleasant smile at the door as it opened to reveal Robert and a young woman dressed in the black uniform of the auction house's assistants.

They spent about ten minutes questioning each of the employees. None of them had seen anything, or anyone, and Sebastian began to get annoyed. He knew he needed to bite the bullet and start billing his clients by the hour instead of by the job. He always managed to get shafted. The problem was he hated paperwork. Or writing things down. Or really anything that involved sitting. He was a man of action, not scribbly things.

Finally, however, as the last employee came in, Sebastian knew they'd hit pay dirt. The man avoided their eyes and spent too much time getting comfortable in his chair. Sebastian didn't even need his "witchy" tool kit to tell the man was about to lie.

"Thank you for taking time to talk with us, Mr...."

"Peterson," the man offered.

"Thank you, Mr. Peterson. Now, we're looking into the possible theft of some items from the storeroom, and we need your help. Do you remember seeing anything out of the ordinary today, or anyone around who shouldn't have been?"

The man swallowed. "No, Sir. Nothing."

Yup, definitely lying.

"Well, Mr. Peterson, I'm afraid I don't believe you."

"What?" The man looked up, startled.

Sebastian gave him his most intimidating smile. "I said, you're lying."

"I—I am not!" Mr. Peterson attempted to stand up, but Sebastian put a hand on his shoulder, his long sinewy fingers gripping several nerves and pressure points just so. The man gasped and collapsed back into the chair.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Sebastian said calmly, glancing over at Lily. She had a wide-eyed look on her face but hadn't made a move to stop him. Smart girl, he thought. Refocusing on Peterson, he took an educated guess. "You let someone into the back, didn't you?"

"No!" The man protested, though his response rang hollow.

Sebastian sighed. "Yes, you did, and you can either help us catch him, or I can report you to the police. You'll go to jail and lose your job. Once the auction house is done warning everyone that you're an accomplice to theft, no one will ever hire you again." He might have been stretching the truth a bit—okay, a lot—but what the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

A growing expression of horror on his face, Mr. Peterson looked pleadingly back and forth between them but found not an inch of give. "Okay—okay. Look, it wasn't my fault! I didn't know he was going to take anything. He said he was Ashley's boyfriend, you know, the girl who takes pictures of all the showroom stuff. He said he wanted to sneak in a surprise for her. He couldn't go through the front where she'd see him, so he asked if I could just prop the back door open for him. I didn't mean any harm!"

"I know, I know," Sebastian assured him, sitting back in his chair and relaxing his threatening stance. "And if you can help us find this man, we won't tell your boss a thing. This can be just between us. How does that sound?"

"Yes! Anything you want to know."

"Good. What was his name?"

"Um, he didn't say," the man mumbled.

"Well, what did he look like?" Sebastian asked, annoyed.

"Uhh, I don't know...young? Kinda skinny. Brown hair. I'm sorry, but that's all I remember."

Sebastian gritted his teeth. He knew most of the major players in town when it came to magical mischief, but "young," "skinny," and "brown hair" was not much to go on. That described about thirty percent of the adult male population. If he knew who he was dealing with, this would go a lot more smoothly. He was about to press the man further when he felt a light touch on his arm. Surprised, he turned to find Lily giving him a significant look. Pulling her away from the man and turning their backs to him, he lowered his voice to a whisper.

"What is it?"

"If we need a picture of the thief, I can get us one," she whispered back. "The problem is...well, I don't exactly want to do a spell in front of a mundane. He'll probably just think we're crazy and forget about it in a day or two, but I'd prefer to avoid it."

Brow creasing, Sebastian considered the problem. "Is it flashy?" he asked. At her confused look, he elaborated. "You know, explosions and sparkling lights?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous. He'd just hear me casting the spell, that's all. And he might feel a little funny while I'm doing it."

"Oh, well that's easy." Slipping an ornately carved silver band off his finger, he handed it to her. "Put this on."

"What is it?" she asked, eyes alight with curiosity as she examined it closely before slipping it onto her finger.

"Oh, just a trinket I picked up somewhere," he said, mindful of her previous declaration about wizards not giving things to witches. He could, in fact, prove her wrong, but didn't see any point in shattering her fantasy just yet. "I call it my ring of cacophony. See that band in the middle? Turn it so the symbols all line up and...there you go." He looked at her and grinned, seeing her mouth move and brow wrinkle in question, but not hearing a single peep from her lips.

"It's a one-way sound barrier," he whispered. "You can hear me but I can't hear you. Not what you say, or the noises you make with your body, the rustle of your clothes, or even your footsteps. It's how I snuck up on you earlier." He winked, glad she was wearing the ring because judging by her open mouth and look of outrage, she was yelling at him.

"Turn the band again if you want me to hear you, but for goodness sake be quiet." Sebastian glanced behind him, making sure Mr. Peterson was still sitting meekly in his chair.

"—the most uncouth, rude, exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure to meet," she said in a furious whisper, the sound of her voice cutting in halfway through whatever tirade she had prepared for him.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, trying not to look too pleased with himself. "Look, you'll have plenty of time to berate me later. Right now, can you just do your thing so we can get on with it?"

Giving him one last glare, she turned and sat down facing Peterson. "Mr. Peterson, I need you to give me both your hands, and then think about this man you saw as clearly as you can.

"What?" he asked, looking nervous.

"Don't ask questions, just do as I ask. You don't want to go to jail, do you?" Lily said, all business.

Standing behind her, Sebastian grinned. He was figuring this girl out. When she was mad, she was fearless. So all he had to do was constantly annoy her and she'd have no problems. Ah, life was good.

"A—alright," Peterson said, taking her hands hesitantly.

"Close your eyes. Are you thinking about the man you met? Can you see his face in your mind?" Lily asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. Keep doing it until I tell you to stop."

The room went unnaturally quiet, and Sebastian looked down. Lily's lips were moving, but no sound escaped them. Her eyes were closed as well and her breathing measured. Beyond a vein pulsing in her temple, she looked relaxed and at ease. Though he noticed a woven, beaded cord around her wrist attached to a beautifully carved blue stone, inlaid with silver runes, there was no other sign of anything "special." No light, no swirl of colors, nothing at all to indicate magic was at that moment moving through the room, obeying the silent will of the wizard before him. The silence gave him a moment to think, and he found he didn't like the direction his thoughts were going.

He'd originally assumed Lily Singer was like all the other wizards he'd met: cold and calculating. Proud and inflexible. But she was turning out to be much more complicated, and fascinating, than that. It was easy to tease and flirt with just a pretty face. But what happened if he actually started to like her?

Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him, and he saw Lily let go of the man's hand and twist the ring on her finger, giving out a long but quiet sigh as she stood up and surreptitiously stretched her muscles.

"Thank you, Mr. Peterson. You may go."

He stood up. "So, you won't tell my boss about this?"

"Don't worry, we'll take care of things," Lily assured him without actually promising anything. Sneaky, Sebastian thought with an inward glow of pride, then cursed to himself. She needed to hurry up and say something priggish and insulting so he could go back to mocking her.

After Peterson left the room, Lily turned to him, taking off the ring, but hesitating before giving it to him. Eyebrow raised, he held out his hand, wiggling his fingers impatiently. She pursed her lips, but finally placed it in his hand with a huff of air through her flared nostrils.

"If you sneak up on me again..." She let the threat trail off, leaving it to him to imagine what retribution would come raining down should he dare cross her again.

He hid his grin, not wanting to burst her bubble. He'd been on the receiving end of much more intimidating threats from far stronger wizards. It took quite a bit to deter him. "So noted. Now what's our next move? Did you get an image? What did you do to that guy?"

"It's called thought sharing—"

"Like mind reading? Cool." He gave a soft whistle.

"No, not mind reading," she insisted. "The human brain communicates through electrical and chemical signals, turning stimuli from the different senses into images and other pieces of information, which it then stores in our memory. While I was physically touching him I could use magic as a transmitter to receive the signals he was projecting from his own brain in the form of the image he remembered."

"So, mind reading," Sebastian summarized.

Lily sighed, giving up. "Is there a pencil and piece of paper around here I can use?"

Sebastian dug in the computer desk and presented her with the requested implements. Curious, he watched as she positioned the pencil at an angle, rubbing the flat side of the lead across the paper, making a solid gray blur of graphite. Setting down the pencil, she then laid her hands flat on the paper, fingers stretched to encircle the grey blur. Since she was no longer wearing the ring of cacophony, he heard her soft words, spoken in a language he didn't know. Well, he'd heard it before, having spent some time around wizards, but he'd never bothered to learn it, since it did him no good. They called it Enkinim, if he recalled correctly. It was their language of power—of magic.

Distracted by his own thoughts, he didn't immediately notice when the grey blur started to move. But he caught on quickly enough, staring in amazement as the grains of graphite moved in a swirl, rearranging themselves on the paper to create an image so detailed and perfect that it looked like a black and white photograph. The image depicted a young man's face, dusted with freckles and framed by tufts of stick-straight hair that poked out from under a ball cap. Though the cap hid some of his face, there was enough showing for Sebastian to know he'd never seen the young man. Well, that was delightful. More work.

"I don't recognize him," he said with a sigh as Lily straightened, dusting graphite off her hands and breathing deeply.

"That's...disappointing," she replied, frowning. "So what do we do now?"

Grinning at her, he laced his fingers together, cracking his knuckles. "Now it's my turn to do some magic."

Though she protested, he eventually convinced her to play along. Which was fortunate, since he wasn't in the business of letting people see all his tricks of the trade, much less a prissy wizard.

Leaving the box of terrible novels, mug, and granola bars with him, he sent her to the store for a long list of random items that he insisted were quite essential for his next feat of witchery. Things like rubber cement, bouncy-balls, and a plunger. That would keep her occupied and out of the cold while he—
Chapter Three

### Butting Heads

"So that's why you sent me to the store, you horrible wretch," Lily exclaimed over Sir Kipling's yowl of amusement. Taking aim with an empty coke bottle she'd been about to throw away, she lobbed it in his direction. He dodged it expertly, a look of guilt warring with amusement on his face.

"Hey, I didn't know you then!" he protested, dodging a second bottle. "I didn't want you following me around while I did my thing. You know the fae don't like strangers. I needed you out of the way for my friends to do their job. Besides, it was freezing cold. You can't tell me you'd have been happy traipsing around after me in that weather.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lily grumbled, bending to pick up another piece of trash in case she changed her mind about not throwing things at Sebastian. "You could have asked me to wait out of sight in the car or something. There was no need to send me on a wild goose chase."

Sebastian struck a pose. "On the contrary, it was quite necessary...for my amusement," he said, then broke down, unable to hold back his guffaw of laughter.

This time, she did not miss.

"Hey, I thought we were supposed to be cleaning up, not trashing the place," Sebastian complained, peeling the soggy newspaper off his chest and dropping it distastefully to the floor.

"I am cleaning. You, however, are standing there being useless. So I gave you something to do. Now pick it up off the floor and throw it away."

"So," Sir Kipling said, interjecting into his mistress's tirade. "What did he do while you were scouring the local establishments for plumbing equipment?"

"Oh, you know, what he usually does. Gets one of his fae minions to track down whoever he's after."

"Hey, they're not minions. They're business associates."

Ignoring him, she continued. "I'd already found most of the things on his ridiculous list by the time he finally called, told me to drop everything, and meet him at a mini self-storage north of Decatur, toward Clarkston...

About a year and a half ago, after much ado about nothing:

Lily pulled into the parking lot of Loc-tight Self Storage, a scowl still on her face. First that ridiculous witch had sent her to run errands. Then he said he didn't need the items after all, which was even more irritating. His haphazard methods were getting on her nerves. If this lead didn't turn up anything, she was going to call it quits before the foolhardy witch got them into trouble.

Bundling up—she'd taken the liberty to buy a heavier pair of gloves and thicker scarf—she braved the cold and exited her vehicle, spotting Sebastian waiting for her by the entrance. Looking around as she walked, she surmised that this was not exactly a top-notch self-storage business. While there was a chain-link fence and gateposts, there was no gate. Perhaps the last time it was broken into, the thieves had taken the gate, too, for good measure.

As she approached, she noticed a triangular stone hanging from a leather cord around Sebastian's neck. It had an oddly symmetrical hole in the center of it, as if it had been carved. The only reason she noticed the necklace was that Sebastian had unbuttoned the top of his shirt, showing the necklace and a white undershirt beneath. While he wore a heavy coat, it, too, was open at the front, as if the cold barely bothered him at all. Lily scowled. It was distinctly unnatural and entirely unfair.

"Took you long enough," Sebastian said, grinning at her huddled, shivering form.

She'd spent the whole drive over convincing herself not to berate him for, well, everything. So much for that resolution. "No thanks to you. I can't even begin to list the—"

"Then don't," he cut her off. "We have work to do."

He left her standing there, mouth opening and closing in silent outrage. Recovering, she hurried forward to catch up, determined to focus on the job at hand. The faster they found the artifacts, the faster she could be rid of him.

Following behind Sebastian, she noticed he was making a beeline for a particular unit at the back, as if he knew exactly where to go. Her suspicion was rekindled, but if he'd been the one to steal the items in the first place, why would he lead her right to them? Still, she needed to be on her guard. Madam Barrington had always been quite emphatic that witches were not to be trusted.

Focusing her energy through the amulet on her ward bracelet, Lily tapped the Source—the place from which all magic flowed—and put up her defenses, just in case this was some sort of trick. With heightened magical awareness, she proceeded forward, rounding the last line of storage units before the back end of the compound. As she did, she saw Sebastian kneeling by one of them, reaching for the padlock securing its door. But something about the padlock looked wrong, almost as if...

"Get away! Don't touch that!" She yelled, startling herself as much as Sebastian. Running as fast as her heels and pencil skirt would allow, she managed to get between Sebastian—who had backed up in confusion—and the padlock just as the booby trap spell went off. It hit her full force, causing her to stumble sideways into Sebastian's arms.

"Holy cow, what was that? Are you alright?" Sebastian's voice was tight as he helped her regain her balance, strong hands checking her over for injury.

"I'm quite alright, thank you, Mr. Blackwell." Lily hurriedly pushed away, face on fire and shoulder smarting from where the spell had hit her. She brushed herself off with unnecessary vigor and straightened her already-straight coat in a futile attempt to forget the feeling of Sebastian's hands. "I am well versed in the discipline of defensive magic and will be no worse for the wear."

"That's a relief," Sebastian replied, completely serious for once. "So what just happened?"

Lily turned to examine the padlock more closely. "Well, it seems our amateur wizard-thief is even more foolish than I supposed. Whoever it is, they know enough to cast spells, but have no common sense when it comes to using them wisely. That was the magical equivalent of an improvised explosive device: shoddily put together with the crudest of parameters yet extremely destructive for all its simplicity. Without my defensive shield and personal ward it might have done serious harm.

"What are we talking here," Sebastian asked, "a couple bruises? Broken bones? Death?"

"Definitely a concussion, possibly internal bleeding or ruptured organs. Whoever cast this booby trap either wants you dead or had no idea how powerful it was."

"That's a comforting thought," Sebastian said, mouth forming a grim line. He looked at her again, expression softening. "You sure you're alright?"

"Quite sure, Mr. Blackwell. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I can see that."

Lily eyed him suspiciously, not sure if he was teasing her or not. He held her gaze, returning it quite brazenly as he examined her with a curious look in his eyes as if he were trying to decide something. She looked away first.

"Thank you."

The unexpected remark made her look back, eyes wide in surprise. "You're w—welcome," she stammered, responding out of ingrained politeness, as her brain still hadn't gotten over the shock of his uncharacteristically gracious behavior.

Much to her relief—it would be such a bother to have to re-think her whole opinion of him—that look of roguish self-satisfaction quickly returned, and he gave a flourishing bow in the direction of the door. "After you, my lady."

Shooting him a token glare, she turned and stared at the storage unit, struggling to decide if she should protest their illegal breaking and entering. If it had been any other circumstance—if they hadn't just been assaulted by a dangerous spell, for instance—she would have insisted they call the police. She was an upstanding citizen, after all. She paid her taxes, drove the speed limit, and most definitely didn't jaywalk. This went against everything she'd been taught...and yet when the law and magic collided, what was the right thing to do?

Still unsure, she glanced back at Sebastian. "Do you have a key for the lock? Or were you just going to break it?"

"And damage someone else's property? What kind of uncouth savage do you think I am?" Sebastian did a very good impression of looking aghast, even as his eyes twinkled.

Lily rolled her eyes, decision made. Being forced into such a moral compromise disturbed her greatly, but what else was one to do when rules got in the way of justice? She turned back to the storage unit to examine it more closely. The place where the spell had been anchored was fairly visible, but the marks were fading already, which meant it hadn't been cast more than several hours ago. Just to be safe, she spent a few minutes examining the edges of the door and, with eyes closed and awareness reaching out, attempted to ascertain if there were any spells inside. Besides the fading spell on the padlock, however, she could detect no other trace of magic.

"It's safe," she said, turning back to her companion as Sebastian pulled several long, slender pieces of metal out of his pocket. He crouched once more, inserting the lock picks into the padlock and fiddling with them for barely ten seconds before there was a click and the lock popped open. Lily's jaw dropped.

"How did you do that?" she asked, wavering between distaste and amazement. Lock-picking was a terribly scandalous thing to do. She wasn't sure she approved.

Sebastian looked proud of himself. "Psh, ninety percent of the locks out there are cheap and simple to pick. They're more of a deterrent than an actual safety mechanism, since most people don't bother learning how to pick. Cutting or bashing in locks is way easier, but I"—he stood erect, hand to his chest—"am a professional."

Looking down to hide her involuntary smile, she stepped back as Sebastian heaved at the roll-up door, sending it clattering up into the ceiling and revealing a tiny storage space. The space was empty except for two small boxes, looking quite lonely on the dusty floor. Lily started toward them, but Sebastian put out a hand, stopping her.

"Are you sure it's safe?" He asked, glaring around at the storage space suspiciously.

She checked for magic again, just to be sure. "There are no more spells, if that's what you're asking."

"Hmm...this seems too easy."

"Maybe the thief assumed their first trap would take care of any intruders?" Lily suggested.

"Usually if someone goes to the trouble of setting a trap, they're smart enough to have a backup." He looked annoyed at the lack of trip-wires or spikes hanging from the ceiling.

Lily snorted. "Well, as we have seen multiple times, this particular person's intelligence seems to be sorely lacking."

"Perhaps you're right. Still, I'd prefer you stand back while I get the boxes."

"That's completely unnecessary, I—"

"Please," he cut her off, speaking firmly.

They glared at one another for a moment. Finally, with a huff of annoyance, Lily moved back, waiting with crossed arms and pursed lips.

Stepping carefully, Sebastian entered the unit, looking around as if expecting a six-eyed monster to come bursting out of the wall. But he reached the boxes without incident and, after examining them carefully, picked them up.

Nothing happened.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," he sighed, retreating from the storage unit and handing Lily the boxes to hold as he pulled down the roll-up door and replaced the padlock.

Lily ignored him, being too busy opening the boxes. Inside were the missing artifacts, carefully packaged and wrapped. It looked as if the thief had snuck in, slit open the original boxes and swapped the contents, then taped them back up again.

"The books are missing," Lily said.

"What?" Sebastian whirled. "What do you mean the books are missing?"

"Just what I said, silly. The books aren't here, only the artifacts."

He groaned, slapping his forehead. "I knew this was too easy."

"What do you want with those books anyway?" Lily asked, deciding this was as good a time as any to get to the bottom of things.

"Not here," Sebastian hissed, taking her by the shoulders and turning to frog-marching her toward the entrance. "You realize we just robbed someone, right? I mean, they robbed us first, but still, nobody watching us knows that."

Lily held her tongue until they were in the parking lot. "Where's your car?" She asked, looking around and shivering in the cold wind that they'd previously been protected from in the lee of the storage units.

"Back at the auction house," he said, unconcerned.

"What? You mean you walked here?"

"Not exactly," he said slowly, urging her to keep moving. When he refused to elaborate, Lily mentally threw up her hands and headed for her car.

After carefully placing the boxes in her trunk, she took refuge in the relative warmth of the driver's seat, while Sebastian climbed into the passenger seat. She thought about protesting, but it would have been terribly impolite to make him stand out in the cold while she was warm in her car. Satisfying, perhaps, but not polite.

Just in case someone had spotted them, she went ahead and left the self-storage lot, driving a few streets down to park next to one of Atlanta's many public parks—currently empty as everyone was at home, probably wrapped in blankets and huddled next to camp stoves in an attempt to survive the abnormally cold weather.

"So," she said, turning to Sebastian, "what do you want with my books?" She gave him a hard stare, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. The inside of her car had never felt so small.

"No poking." He pointed an accusatory finger at her.

She tried to look innocent but couldn't quite pull it off like he did, so she gave up. "Fine, no poking."

"Good. I already told you, I'm a witch for hire. If someone needs, or thinks they need, 'magic,' they call me. Mostly it's a bunch of superstitious idiots, but sometimes there are legitimate jobs. I got a call a few days ago asking me to retrieve a letter from the effects of a recently deceased wizard. They had no idea where the letter was, just that it wasn't at his house. So I showed up at the estate auction and, ahem, surreptitiously searched all the items. Didn't find it. Later, though, I remembered I hadn't looked inside the books. You know how you stick random things in a book to mark your place?"

"No, I do not," Lily said, looking scandalized. "I use bookmarks, or I memorize the page number. There's no telling what kind of smudges or dirt you might get on a book that way."

Sebastian gazed heavenward, a sigh of exasperation on his lips. "Alright, well most people do that, and I thought maybe the guy had stuck the letter in one of his books. So I came back to see if I could get a look at them."

There was a moment of silence while Lily digested all this. "Well, you certainly went to a lot of unnecessary trouble. If you'd explained all this at the start, I would have been more than happy to help. There was no reason to go sneaking about."

"Except that sneaking is much more fun," he pointed out, lips twitching upward even as Lily's flattened into a stern line.

"Be that as it may, we're still stuck, unless you can use your 'witchy' powers to find the books the same way you found the artifacts." She couldn't keep all of the sarcasm out of her voice but at least managed to sound halfway civil. Though, judging by Sebastian's thoughtful expression, she needn't have bothered. Insults rolled off him like water off a duck's back.

"Unfortunately, my, ah, 'powers' were rather put out and frostbitten after the first round of playing bloodhound. But not to worry," he continued before she could ask how powers could get frostbite. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

After a few minutes of silence, in which she forced herself not to fidget, Lily cleared her throat. "Any ideas yet?"

"Oh plenty, just none of them good," he replied, face screwed up in concentration.

"Well, maybe this is silly, but...why don't we just go check the house? I know your, um, boss said the letter wasn't there, but how can he be sure? It might be a big house, and the letter could be magically hidden."

"What a brilliant idea!" Sebastian shot upright, the vigor of his motions bringing his head in contact with the car ceiling. "Ow," he grumbled, rubbing his crown as he slouched back down and glared at the offending roof.

Lily laughed, not even trying to hide it. Sebastian was annoying enough to make her contemplate bodily harm, but at least he was funny. She hadn't laughed this much in a while. Being a head librarian, while enjoyable, was also stressful. She had an image to uphold and students to cow into acceptably disciplined behavior while within her domain.

"So, do you have the address?" she asked.

"Nope, but I know where it is."

"Fine, but I'm not letting you drive. Just tell me where to go."

Sebastian let his shoulders rise and fall in an unconcerned manner. "Your funeral."

"What?" Lily asked, completely nonplussed.

"Look." Sebastian pointed out the window.

Lily looked and, to her horror, saw bits of white fluff falling from the sky. "It's snowing! No! That can't be. This is Georgia, it's not supposed to snow here."

"Obviously the snow didn't get your memo," Sebastian commented dryly. "Can you drive in the snow? Looks like the roads are icing up."

"I'll be fine, thanks," she said through gritted teeth. This was not going to be fun.

"You can say that again." Sebastian had given up all pretense of cleaning, perching instead on a stool in the kitchen doorway as he listened to the story. "She almost killed us, twice. I've never seen someone drive so badly in the snow before."

"Oh, like you're an expert," Lily said scathingly. "You're just as southern as I am."

"Perhaps, but I don't think anyone could drive worse than you and still be alive, so it's safe to say that you're the worst."

Knowing he spoke only to provoke a reaction, Lily ignored him and moved on with the story.

"So we headed west—"

"Northwest," Sebastian corrected.

"To Brookhaven—"

"It was Buckhead, not Brookhaven."

"Fine!" Lily said, throwing up her hands. "You tell the story."

"Only if you insist." He grinned at her scowling face, so she arched her left eyebrow in silent threat. Sebastian blanched. He knew not to push his luck.

"Right, ahem," he said, shifting his gaze to Sir Kipling. The feline, having become convinced the vacuum would not make an appearance that day, had relocated to the back of the sofa. "So, we headed northwest, I, holding on for dear life—I mean sitting calmly in my seat," he changed tacks as Lily cleared her throat menacingly. "When we finally arrived..."

About a year and a half ago, and, thankfully, still alive:

By the time Lily pulled up to the correct street in the quiet Buckhead neighborhood, Sebastian couldn't have said which one of them was more frazzled. His hair stood on end from running his hands through it, which he did every time they safely rounded a curve or came to a stop without sliding out into the intersection. Every other moment, of course, his hands were busy gripping the door handle, dashboard, or any other available surface in white-knuckled terror.

Throughout the trip Lily—who seemed to consider herself a capable driver under normal conditions—had rebuffed his helpful, timely advice. She claimed it was difficult to focus when your passenger was yelling panicked instructions at you. Though indignant at her description of his "side-seat drama," he had to admit that circumstances were stacked against her. Nobody else in Atlanta knew how to drive on icy roads either, so the whole city was a mess of wrecks and sliding cars.

Once Lily had put the car in park and switched off the ignition, there was a moment of relieved silence before they both started to speak.

"That is the last time I let you drive—"

"That is the last time I drive you anywhere—"

Looking at each other, they finished in unison.

"Next time I can walk."

"Next time you can walk."

With a heave, Sebastian opened his passenger door and pretended to stumble out, bending over and making retching sounds. Perhaps it was an overreaction, but he considered it his sacred duty to make Lily think twice before getting behind the wheel again while there was ice on the ground. The safety of every driver and pedestrian in Atlanta depended on it.

"Seriously?" Lily's voice drifted out from the still-open door, and he heard the driver's door open and close.

Straightening hastily, he brushed himself off so that, by the time Lily had rounded the car, he was presentable and ready for the next stage of their adventure.

"Do I need to take you to a hospital?" Lily asked, tone laced with sarcasm.

Detecting an upward twitch of her lips even as she attempted to scowl, Sebastian felt a strange, exhilarating warmth inside his chest. He knew she would scoff if he tried to explain it, but he wasn't usually this—alright, fine—dramatic. There was just something about her that inspired him to greater heights of silliness, as if every scowl, every eye-roll, every twitch of her lips was some great victory. Knowing he could draw something out of her that she normally kept hidden was surprisingly thrilling. Drat, he thought. This was not good.

"I believe the best way to ensure my continued health would be for you to avoid driving me anywhere until at least April."

Now she really did scowl.

"But let's not focus on me," he continued swiftly, grasping her shoulders and spinning her about to face the grand house before them. It was built in the Tudor style of the 1930s and '40s, all brick, stucco, and dark wood lines. A "for sale" sign marred the otherwise smooth front lawn. "This is it. Shall we?"

"Maybe we should call the realtor," Lily said nervously, attempting to turn back. "I'm sure they would let us in to see the house. You could keep them occupied while I looked for the letter."

"I have a better idea," he said, pushing gently at the small of her back, surprising her into taking a step forward onto the front walk. "Why don't we just take a look around the outside and see if there's anything out of place." He didn't point it out, but there was an expensive-looking car parked on the street one door down that didn't look like it belonged. He suspected that, once he got her to the house, things would progress from there.

Walking carefully through the thin film of slush, they peered in the front windows and tried the door. Everything was locked and dark. Lily turned to go back to the car, but he headed around the side of the house. Listening carefully, he heard a tiny sigh, then the crunch of footsteps following him. He grinned.

There were no footprints in the slush outside the back door, but it had only started snowing thirty minutes ago, so that meant little. Though evening was nearing, it wasn't dark yet, so it was hard to tell if the glow he saw was coming from the upstairs window, or from the sky above. It was worth investigating.

Looking around to make sure Lily was close behind, he stepped up to the back door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. Bingo.

"There's someone here," he whispered, mouth close to Lily's ear. She shivered, whether from cold or something else, he couldn't tell.

"We should call the police," she whispered back.

"Are you crazy? It's the thief. It's got to be. Do you really want a bunch of mundanes in here with an incompetent wizard who knows just enough to be dangerous? Come now, Miss Singer, we have a responsibility, do we not, to take care of this sort of thing ourselves, without involving the uninformed? It's for their own good."

She wavered, looking uncertain.

"I mean, if you think you're not up to it, I guess I could call one of my friends..." he began, but she was having none of it.

"Don't even think about it," Lily said, glaring up into his face. He tried not to be distracted by her pretty blue eyes. "The last thing we need is another devil-may-care witch rampaging around, breaking laws and causing trouble. I'll deal with this, and deal with it properly."

Knowing what was at stake, he made sure no hint of his inward smile showed through the serious expression he gave her. "Don't let me get in your way," he offered. "But you might want this." Holding out his hand, he presented her with his ring of cacophony.

She looked at him suspiciously. "And why would I need that?"

"Because I seriously doubt you'll be able to move quietly in that outfit," he nodded to her heels, heavy coat, scarf, hat, and other accoutrements.

Though inclined to be huffy, she accepted the ring. He hardly ever needed it anyway. He'd had a lot of practice sneaking around over the years.

After she'd put it on and rotated the band, he bowed, extending an inviting arm toward the back door. He was fine with letting her go first. That way he could keep an eye on her and their surroundings at the same time. Not that he was going to tell her that. He didn't have a death wish.

The back door, well tended and oiled, didn't make a sound as Lily opened it, and they crept into the dimness within. From what he could see, they'd entered a back hall that opened up into a sort of den on one side and a kitchen on the other. Both rooms were predominantly empty, the furnishings having already been sold at the estate auction. Yet the rich wood paneling and ornate mantelpiece told of antique architecture and the old money that could afford it.

Tapping his companion's shoulder, Sebastian pointed in front of them to the shadow of a staircase winding up toward the second floor. Lily nodded, and they started forward.

Sebastian was very glad of his ring, as Lily's movements looked about as stealthy as a hippopotamus in heat. While he'd witnessed her grace and poise firsthand, that had been when she was being herself, in her own comfort zone. Forced into an adventure completely outside her experience—and in heels, no less—it was no wonder she moved with less than ninja-like skill. While her gumption was certainly endearing, he really ought to teach her how to sneak properly someday.

Wait, no, he thought, shaking his head. There would be no someday. She was a wizard, and he was a witch. The two did not mix. Once they'd found what they were looking for, they'd go their separate ways, and that would be that. He was annoyed at the pang of loss that thought brought.

A sudden movement in front of him jerked him out of his reverie, and his hand instinctively shot out, catching Lily before she could fall backward. She must have missed a step in the dark as she mounted the stairs. Thanks to the ring, her flailing display didn't make a sound. With a thankful glance behind her, she continued up the stairs, he close behind, alert for any more slips.

They reached the top of the stairs without further incident and crept down the paneled hall toward a sliver of light visible under a door. When they reached it, Lily put up a hand, halting him. He waited patiently, watching as her lips moved, probably casting a defensive spell or preparing some other kind of wizardry.

Finally looking up, she nodded her readiness and reached for the doorknob. Her sudden movement caught him off guard and for a second he hesitated, torn between his instinctive desire to protect her and his knowledge that she was the wizard and probably better prepared to face whatever awaited them.

His hesitation cost him. Before he could react she was already moving into the room. Surging forward on silent feet, he tried to catch up, swinging the door fully open just in time to see a ball of fire headed straight at her from her blind side.

With less than a second to decide, his brain reverted to instinct and he dove, knocking her aside just in time for the fireball to engulf him instead.
Chapter Four

### Not So Bad After All

"And? What happened next?" Sir Kipling demanded, rising from his catloaf position in a rare show of interest.

Sebastian, of course, didn't understand him. But even the plaintive meow he undoubtedly heard didn't register, so thoroughly was he lost in his own remembrances as he stared blankly at the floor.

Lily herself felt a bit shaken. Remembering was one thing, but hearing it from her friend's point of view was another thing entirely. Of course, she knew he was prone to exaggeration, but still...his avid descriptions had made her blush more than once as she kept her head down, filling bag after bag while he regaled Sir Kipling with their harrowing tale. She suspected he'd rather forgotten she was there. Not that her own storytelling was any less revealing. The question was, were either of them going to do anything about it?

"Sorry, did you say something?" Sebastian asked, finally recalling his surroundings.

"No, but Sir Kipling is rather annoyed with you at the moment." She smiled. "I think I'd better take it from here. We have a long way to go yet and that kitchen isn't going to clean itself." She pulled the strings of her garbage bag shut, tying it off and setting it beside the row of similarly stuffed bags by the door, awaiting their final walk to the dumpster.

Looking over his shoulder, Sebastian adopted a look of mournful despair. "Lil, have you seen my kitchen? I don't think it's a matter of a long way to go. I think we'd better just burn it down and build a new one. I scrubbed for minutes and minutes, and it looks just as bad as it did before."

"Minutes and minutes, huh?" Lily asked, lips twitching. "Why don't you spend more than a few minutes at it and you might make some progress. Go on. Shoo."

With the face of a condemned man, Sebastian rose and wandered back into the kitchen. Lily shook her head, smiling as she snapped open a new garbage bag and got back to work. She was secretly relieved it was him in the kitchen and not her. She wouldn't touch that sink with a ten-foot pole.

"Now," she said to Sir Kipling, "where were we..."

About a year and a half ago. Oh yeah, and impending doom:

Lily screamed. No one heard it but herself, of course. Maybe that's why Sebastian called his ring the ring of cacophony, because you could make as much noise as you wanted without bothering anyone. Completely ridiculous, of course, just like its owner. Why had he pushed her aside? Her ward could have easily shrugged off such an attack and here he was being an idiot and throwing himself in the path of danger.

These detached musings flashed through her mind even as she snapped her mouth shut, reluctant to look yet desperate to know. Heart pounding in her throat and a heavy weight of grief already crushing her lungs, she turned toward the fading blaze, expecting to see a charred corpse on the floor...and was astonished to see a very frazzled but unsinged Sebastian standing there, hands upraised in an involuntary attempt to protect his face.

"What in the world?" she asked before remembering the ring. Twisting it, she looked up in time to see a shadowy figure in the middle of the room raise glowing hands, preparing another attack.

"Watch out!" Lily cried, surging forward so her defensive shield caught the second bolt in its tracks, not a foot in front of Sebastian. Fortunately for them both, the attacks had little power behind them—another sign of this wizard's amateur skills. With half a mind on her protective spell, she jerked Sebastian behind her before moving forward slowly, circling the figure and looking for an opening.

"What happened back there," she yelled behind her over the roar of another ball of flame.

"One-shot ward." He yelled back. "Friend gave it to me. Not sure where he got it. Amazed it worked."

He moved away and she had no time to question him further, not daring to take her attention off her quarry. Hoping he stayed out of the way, she carefully cast several bolts of pure energy, wanting only to disable, not injure. They fizzled out before they reached the figure. So, he knew how to defend as well as attack, she thought. At least he wasn't totally incompetent.

Suddenly, Sebastian's form came diving out of the darkness. Her opponent, as focused on her as she was on him, didn't see him coming and was tackled to the floor by the taller, heavier man.

Scrambling to the door, Lily fumbled for the light switch. With a frantic flip, the lights came on, revealing Sebastian, triumphant, kneeling on the back of a young man who lay flat on the floor. The man's hands were crossed behind him and Sebastian held them firmly, his loose coat belying the wiry strength of the frame beneath.

"Mr. Blackwell!" Lily cried, hurrying forward. "Don't hurt him. Let him up."

"After he just tried to kill us? No way." He emphasized this with a jerk of his knee, putting more pressure on the young man's back and eliciting a cry from his captive.

"Owow! Get off me!"

"Not a chance, you little creep."

Finally rounding the pair, Lily was horrified to see that the young man was even younger than she'd guessed. Gangly, with a pimple-ridden face, he couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen years old.

"Good heavens, let him up, Mr. Blackwell. I insist. He's just a boy!"

"A boy who tried to roast your face off," Sebastian protested.

"Srr-y," came a mumbled apology. The boy's face was squashed into the floor, making it hard to speak.

"See, he's sorry. Now let him up," Lily said.

Grumbling, Sebastian straightened and hauled the boy to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his captive's arms. "No funny business, or I'll knock you out," he warned.

"Jeez, lighten up," the boy mumbled, casting a dirty look over his shoulder.

Ignoring their exchange, Lily took stock of the room. It was empty but for them, a small lamp, and a pile of books. It looked as if the boy had been sitting there, reading, when they'd burst in on him. Papers were scattered about, some blank, some covered in badly drawn dimmu runes—the written form of Enkinim, the language of magic.

"What is all this?" she demanded, hands on hips.

The boy looked away, a stubborn tilt to his chin.

"Don't make me tell my companion to hurt you," Lily threatened. She would do nothing of the sort, of course, but he didn't know that.

"And if you lie, I'll know," Sebastian whispered in his ear, making the boy shiver.

"Okay, okay. Lay off. I don't know why you're asking. My mother sent you, didn't she? So you already know everything," he said with a glare.

"What?" Lily glanced at Sebastian, who shrugged in confusion. "No. No one sent us. We're here to get back our books, which you stole." She pointed accusingly at the pile at their feet.

"Huh?" Now the boy looked just as bewildered as they did.

Lily rubbed her temples. "Why don't you start at the beginning, alright? And if you promise not to attack us, we can all sit down comfortably while you explain."

"Uh, okay...so can you let me go already?" he said after a pause in which Sebastian did not loosen his hold.

Sebastian glared at Lily, as if all of this was her fault. She glared right back, and finally he gave in, letting go and stepping back.

The boy brought his hands around to the front, rubbing his wrists and casting more dark looks over his shoulder, which Sebastian returned with much greater effect. Cowed, the boy sat down, looking at his hands. Lily sank to the floor to join him, while Sebastian remained standing behind, looming over them with arms crossed like some wrathful genie of old.

"Let's start with your name," Lily said gently, trying not to let her annoyance show. What she really wanted was to throw this snot-nosed kid over her knee and whip the tar out of him for the trouble he'd made. But that was off the table, as was hiding and hoping it all went away. So talking seemed the best option—the less, the better.

"My name is Seth. Seth Humphrey."

"Alright, Seth. My name is Lily Singer and this is—"

"I already know who he is," Seth cut in, glaring at the floor in lieu of looking upward at the man standing over him. "He's the guy I hired to help me find my letter. The guy who betrayed me."

"Whaaaat?" Sebastian's arms dropped in astonishment. "No way. You're just a kid. That guy was a man."

"You mean like this kind of man," Seth said, lowering his voice to a convincing baritone, a smug smile on his face.

"Why you little—" Sebastian started forward, but Lily held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Let him explain," Lily said sternly, then gave Seth her death glare, the one she usually reserved for students caught with food or drink in her library. "Explain."

The boy wilted under her gaze. "My mom hates magic. She's embarrassed to even be related to wizards. She knows I'm...I'm one of them but she thinks if she just ignores it I'll forget about it. But I can't. I have to learn magic." The earnest pleading in the boy's voice tugged at Lily's heartstrings, but she tried not to let it show on her face. She needed the whole story first.

"When uncle Osbert died—"

"Wait, he was your uncle?" Lily interrupted, confused.

"Well, no, not exactly." Seth shrugged. "We were related, second or third cousins maybe, Mom never told me. But he was the only one in the family I knew of who was a wizard. I only found out because I overheard Mom complaining about him one time and I looked him up and begged him to teach me magic. Dad thinks she should let me learn if I want to, but he's just a normal guy, so Mom thinks he doesn't have a say.

"Anyway, we'd been exchanging letters, because Mom would kill me if she caught me on the phone with him, and then...he died." Seth choked up, sniffing and swiping a sleeve across his eyes. Lily waited silently for him to continue, not wanting to intrude. "So, yeah," the boy finally said, "he'd promised to destroy all my letters after he got them, just in case. I know it's silly but I was paranoid Mom would find out. The thing was, I'd sent him a letter a couple days before he...before he died, and I didn't know if he'd had time to...you know, get rid of it. I managed to sneak over to search the house, but his stuff was already gone. Mom hates this place. She couldn't wait to get rid of everything. I was terrified she'd find the letter so I did an online search and found this guy," he jerked a thumb backward at Sebastian, "and hired him to find the letter first." He fell silent, staring at the floor.

"Okay," Lily said slowly. "I think I follow you so far. But what happened next? Why did you steal the items from the auction house if you'd already hired Sebastian to find your letter?"

"Because he ratted me out," Seth said, glaring at the floor, though his ire was tinged with uncertainty. "At least, I thought he did. Last night I heard Mom talking on the phone with someone, and it sounded like him. I thought he'd figured out who I was and decided he'd get some kind of reward for ratting me out. So I decided I had to steal the stuff to find the letter myself."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Sebastian grumbled behind Seth. "Completely aside from the fact that compromising a paying job is stupid and just bad business, we had an agreement. I'm a professional. I keep my word and the confidentiality of my clients." He glared down at the boy, looking more exasperated than angry.

"Well...sorry," Seth mumbled.

"But that doesn't explain why you attacked me, twice," Sebastian continued, obviously not ready to let it go. "You know you could have seriously injured or killed someone with that bomb of yours. What if a random passerby had set it off instead of trained professionals?"

Lily grinned to herself at his use of words but didn't interrupt the interrogation.

"What? No way! That thing wasn't dangerous. It was just supposed to scare you and make you think you'd found my stash." Seth seemed aghast.

"Not dangerous!" Lily was surprised into exclaiming. "The concussive wave alone could have caused internal injury. Wait a minute...what word did you use to set the strength parameters?" she asked suspiciously.

He told her.

"No wonder," Lily groaned, massaging her temples again. They were starting to throb. "You mixed up the words for 'strong' and 'weak.' You, young man, should not be casting spells. Your grasp of Enkinim, while impressive for someone learning through mere letters, is incomplete, bordering on inaccurate, and your methods are sloppy. I'm astonished you haven't killed yourself yet."

"Okay, so that explains the bomb, but why did you attack us when we came in?" Sebastian growled, not yet satisfied.

"Oh yeah, sorry...uh, I guess I panicked. I figured Mom had sent you to, I don't know, take away my magic or something. I didn't think—"

"Exactly," Sebastian interrupted sternly. "You didn't think."

"Take away your magic?" Lily asked, incredulous. "That's not even possible, Seth. Who gave you such a ridiculous idea?"

"I heard Mom talking about it with Dad. She was worried it was going to mess up my life and wished there was a way she could get rid of it." He sank lower and lower, his shoulders bent under the weight of his words.

Lily sighed, seeing herself in the boy before her. Her mother hadn't tried to take her magic away, just hidden it from her all her life and refused to discuss it, even after Madam Barrington had apprenticed her. She knew what it was like to feel rejected by your family for who you were. "Look," she began gently, then hesitated, trying to fathom what to say. She wasn't good at relationships, much less giving advice about them. "I'm sure your mother loves you. She's just scared," she finally said, settling for what she hoped was the truth. "Magic can be very dangerous, especially if you aren't properly trained. Maybe someone she knew got hurt when she was young, and that's why she doesn't want you learning. Maybe you should ask her about it sometime."

Seth shook his head. "No way. She goes into a fit if I even say the word magic."

"Well," Lily said, sighing, "at least keep an open mind. She's a person, too, with hopes and fears just like you. Even if she does a bad job of showing it, I'm sure she wants what's best for you."

"A fat lot of good that does me. What about what I want?"

Sebastian finally relented, coming around to crouch in front of the boy, a concerned look on his face. "Sometimes what you want isn't good for you. Believe me, I know from experience," he said, a pained look on his face.

"But I'm a wizard. Magic is in my blood. What's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Lily assured him. "But sometimes there is a right time and place to pursue it. Right now, you're under your mother's roof, and she has a right to say what goes on under it. You might accidentally burn the house down practicing magic without a proper instructor. That's not your house, it's your mother's, so I'd say her concerns are legitimate."

Seth opened his mouth to protest, but Lily held up her hand. "You've already seen the damage you can do by accident, so I have a deal to make with you."

"Yeah, what is it?" Seth asked suspiciously.

Lily fixed him with her sternest look. "We promise not to tell your mother about all this if you promise not to use magic until you turn eighteen and are a legal adult."

"What! But that's so far away!"

"And if you don't wait, you might not even be alive to see it," Lily said, unrelenting. "I'm not saying you can't keep studying Enkinim. It will take you years to learn it properly, anyway, and memorizing words doesn't hurt anything. Just don't use it. Once you turn eighteen you can find a proper instructor who will teach you safely, and your mother can't do a thing about it. Alright?"

"Alright," Seth agreed, defeated. "But how will I find a teacher?"

Lily sighed, resisting the temptation to hide her head in her hands. This was the opposite of what she was going for. But what choice did she have? She would never forgive herself if this reckless youth got himself hurt simply because she wanted to be left alone.

"You can come find me. I work at McCain Library of Agnes Scott College. Got that? Say it back to me. Good. I won't teach you, mind," she warned, "but I can help you find someone."

Seth nodded, a pathetic look of gratitude on his face.

Lily closed her eyes, trying to think if there was anything else she needed to say. Feeling a strong hand gently lift her own, she started, eyes flying open. It was Sebastian, taking his ring off her finger. She tried not to squirm.

"Here," he said, holding the ring out to Seth. "Take this."

"What is it?" the boy asked, eyes wide as he reverently took the artifact.

"My ring of ca—well, a ring," he finished, looking wistful. "If you turn it like this"—he demonstrated—"everything you do and say will be silent. So you can practice your Enkinim without your mom hearing."

Lily smiled inwardly, touched by Sebastian's generosity and concern, minus the gruffness.

"Wow, thanks a lot, Mr. Blackwell," Seth said, eyes riveted on the gift.

"Don't mention it," Sebastian grumbled. "Just stay out of trouble, alright? And you still owe me for the job."

"But you didn't find the letter, I found it myself," Seth protested, pointing to a folded piece of paper sticking out of one of the books on the floor.

"Because you stole the books, you little pipsqueak. You're lucky we didn't call the police, and you're going to pay up, or I still might. You'd better not have been fibbing about the price."

"No, I'm good for it." Seth gave the older man a defiant look.

"You better be, or I might just take that nice-looking car parked outside in lieu of payment," Sebastian half-joked, half-threatened.

Seth blanched white. "That's one of my mom's cars. She thinks I'm studying at a friend's house and she'll kill me if I bring it back with so much as a scratch. I promise, I'll pay."

"Good."

"And I'm taking the books," Lily added. "They were fairly paid for at auction and are not yours to keep."

"Aww, come on. I need those!"

"You will have plenty of time to study magic when you're older," Lily said, standing and gathering the books. "You have a lot of growing up to do first. My advice would be to go learn some sense before you try your hand at magic again, if you want to live to be a man."

"And make up with your mom, okay?" Sebastian added quietly. "You never know when it will be too late."

Lily glanced sharply at him, noting the haunted look in his eyes. She wondered what had happened to give him that look.

Though his admonition was meant for Seth, it gave her own heart a pang as well, thinking about her estranged mother. She'd never really forgiven her for hiding magic all those years, not to mention refusing to tell her who her family was. While she certainly loved her farmer stepfather and half siblings, they weren't her people. She'd dreamed her whole life about finding her real family...or at least her biological family. Opening up old wounds with her mother wouldn't accomplish that goal. Better let sleeping dogs lie.

"I'll...try," Seth promised.

Sebastian reached down, offering the boy a hand up. "Good. Now let's get out of here. If someone sees this light on we'll all be in trouble."

They hurried downstairs and outside, closing and locking the house behind them. Sebastian and Lily walked Seth to his car and saw him off, watching his headlights disappear into the deepening gloom of the cold winter's night.

"Do you think he'll keep his promise?" Sebastian asked.

Lily shivered. "I hope so, for his sake."

Subdued, they climbed into Lily's car. By silent but mutual agreement, Sebastian was the one behind the wheel. Despite her earlier protestations that he was just as southern as she, he clearly proved he was much better at driving on the ice, bringing them safely back to the dark parking lot of the auction house. Lily kept her mouth shut, figuring that if she didn't say anything about it, she could pretend it never happened.

Sebastian parked beside his car—a very beat-up and ancient-looking specimen, Lily noticed—and withdrew the keys from the ignition, dropping them in Lily's lap.

They sat in silence, neither seeming to want to move.

"So..." Sebastian finally began, then trailed off.

Lily remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"I guess this is goodbye." He finally said what they were both thinking, then rushed forward, words tripping over themselves to get out of his mouth. "Not that it has to be. I mean, if you want to, I get it. That is, want to say goodbye. But you don't have to, because I don't really mind, but, well...um..." he trailed off, stymied by her silence.

In reality, Lily was keeping her mouth shut because if she opened it, she wasn't sure she could hold back a grin. It was ridiculous, of course. Utterly insane. But for some odd reason, she liked this smug, foolhardy, irritating witch. Contrary to her preconceived notions, he was not the selfish, greedy figure she'd imagined. He seemed to really care about people, even if he did have a funny way of showing it. When it came down to it, despite questionable methods and a cocky attitude, he was alright.

"You're not what I expected," she finally said, once she'd gotten her cheek muscles under control.

"Yeah? You're not so bad yourself," he shot back, grinning from ear to ear.

Unable to hold back any longer, Lily gave in and let the smile she'd been fighting emerge, though not with quite the same unadulterated glee as her new friend. "Perhaps we could work together again in the future," she said, careful to keep her tone professional. It wouldn't do to be too encouraging, or she'd never be rid of him. "If you have a job, you can find me at McCain Library during open hours. Though I'm not sure what Madam Barrington would think of—

"Wait, Madam who?" Sebastian asked, a look of abject horror on his face.

Lily stared at him, confused. "Madam Barrington. My mentor and teacher in the wizarding arts."

"Not Ethel Barrington? Looks like a withered old bat? Acts so stiff you'd think there was a pine-cone up her—"

"She most certainly does not!" Lily cut him off, aghast. "And what do you care who my mentor is?"

"Uh...well...she and I aren't exactly...um, bosom buddies, shall we say."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"Weeeell, she's my aunt. Great-great-aunt to be exact. And she hates witches."

This, Lily thought with a sigh, was going to be an interesting partnership.
Epilogue

"And that's how we met," Lily finished, tying off a final bag of trash to set by the door. They weren't anywhere near being done, but she'd made a significant dent in the living room, and Sebastian—despite his protestations of impossibility—had actually managed to get the sink clean. Well, not clean, really. But it was no longer a biohazard.

"Fascinating," Sir Kipling opined, rising to stretch the kinks out of his back, then settling into an upright, watchful pose. "Perhaps you ought to write it down. It would make quite the book."

"What? No, don't be silly." Lily shook her head. "No one wants to read about two people arguing all the time."

"You'd be surprised," Sir Kipling disagreed, eyes narrowed to contented slits. "A witch and wizard having adventures together? You two make quite the pair."

"Nonsense," Lily muttered, ducking her head to avoid her cat's piercing gaze. Of course she protested—what self-respecting introvert wouldn't—but the truth was, she rather agreed. They did make a good pair. And they had managed to survive a surprising number of ridiculous situations. She wondered what such a story would be called: The Adventures of a Respectable Wizard and Her Scandalous Witch Companion? No, too long, even if it was accurate. Singer & Blackwell, Inc? No, she didn't want to be lumped together in his questionable "professional witch" business. It needed to be nice and simple, yet descriptive—

"Are you two done making out in there?" Sebastian called from the kitchen. This was followed by the sound of spurting water, a glug glug of protesting plumbing, and then a minor explosion. Sebastian emerged, the front of his body covered in a film of water and tiny bits of green goo.

"Drain is clear," he informed them, swiping his face with a finger and examining the specimen of muck he'd retrieved.

"That is absolutely revolting," Lily said, face screwed up in disgust as she scooted away. "You should go take a shower. Right now."

"Probably. I guess we should call it quits for tonight?"

"Most definitely. But don't think you can wiggle out of finishing," she warned him, finger raised. "Tomorrow we tackle the bedroom and bathroom."

"I'm actually rather looking forward to it," Sebastian grinned, taking a deep breath of air and puffing out his chest in a heroic pose. "With you around it's like one big adventure. Oh, how did Kip like the story, by the way?"

"He said we—" she stopped, realizing that Sebastian's ego was quite substantial already without needing any help. One mention of him in a book and she would never hear the end of it. "—we make a good team," she finished, slightly out of breath.

"That we do," he agreed. "No pile of trash nor pit of muck can withstand our mighty wonder-twin powers!" Whistling happily, he wandered off in the direction of the bathroom.

Lily watched him go, shaking her head in amusement. He was a trip, that one. But she was lucky to have his friendship. It seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do, as long as they did it together.

Deeming it safe, Sir Kipling descended from the couch to rub on Lily's ankles, begging a petting out of her. She crouched, stroking his soft, silky head, lost in thought. Maybe it should be The Adventures of Lily and Sebastian? No, too informal. How about The Wizard, the Witch, and the Talking Cat? Hmm, too descriptive. Maybe they could swap the wording around and...

The End

For more of Lily and Sebastian's grand escapades, turn the page to read a sample of Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Beginnings - the Lily Singer Adventures, Book 1.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Beginnings

### (PREVIEW)

### Chapter 1

### Environmentally Friendly Burgers

Lily Singer wished she could simply say her date was going badly and leave it at that. But such a gross understatement was against her nature. To be accurate, she would have to admit it was in the top five worst, if not in the top three. This wasn't totally unexpected. Most—actually, all—of her dates were men she'd met online who, inevitably, weren't as cute as their profile pictures suggested. Awkward and bookish, she found it much easier to start virtual, as opposed to real, conversations. Speed dating and blind dates were out of the question due to her abysmal social skills. Well, that, and the fact that she was a wizard.

No, not a witch. A wizard.

"Soo...when you said you had diet restrictions, what you meant was you could only eat burgers?" Lily asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Though she suspected the only way her date would notice sarcasm was if it was dressed up like a cheeseburger.

"Huh?" Jerry Slate, a good hundred pounds larger and ten years older than his profile picture suggested, looked up from his second burger to stare, confused, at her face.

"When we were setting up the date, you asked if you could pick the restaurant because you said you had diet restrictions," Lily reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. I have a sensitive stomach. I can only eat 100% pure beef burgers, and they have to be grass-fed. Free-range, you know? None of that GMO stuff. This place uses the best ingredients out there."

Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes, consoling herself with the thought that it was better to be taken to a gourmet, environmentally friendly burger restaurant than, heaven forbid, a normal burger restaurant.

Looking to the side, she gazed longingly through the restaurant's front windows to the sunlit street, busy with lunchtime traffic. If only she knew how to teleport, she could escape this awkward situation with minimal embarrassment.

"So..." she tried again. "How's your gaming campaign going?"

"Oh, it's fantastic," Jerry enthused past a mouthful of half-chewed but—let's not forget—grass-fed burger. Not slowing his consumption of burger, fries, and a handmade root beer float, he launched into a detailed description of his gaming group's latest campaign against...someone. Lily couldn't remember who.

It was a topic she could safely rely on to keep him talking for a good while, though it bored her almost to tears. Boredom was preferable, however, to the awkward silence interspersed with chewing sounds she'd suffered through for the first half of their date.

Funny, she'd thought that, in person, Jerry would be more inquisitive. That was before she'd been aware of his burger obsession. As she absentmindedly separated the carrot coins from the rest of her salad and stacked them into a tiny, walled fortress between her and her droning date, she realized he hadn't asked her a single question beyond the perfunctory "How are you?" since they'd met outside some twenty minutes before. From the time they'd entered the restaurant, his entire attention had been devoted to ordering and eating, though he had, at least, disengaged a few brain cells long enough to inform her of the best items on the menu.

Come to think of it, he hadn't been very inquisitive online, either. But Lily was good at asking questions through virtual chat. It was like doing research in a search engine. Type in a question, then browse through the resultant dump of information to find your answer.

When asked a question, especially if said question had anything to do with himself, Jerry was obligingly verbose. He went into great detail, as long as that detail involved the hundred different titles in his grunge rock music collection, or his daring feats in the latest sneak attack against his group's unsuspecting, now-no-longer allies.

It wasn't as if she'd had soaring expectations. She'd just hoped for some intelligent conversation about, oh, say, books. Or history. Or philosophy. Or anything that mattered, really.

Some people improved upon face-to-face acquaintance. Jerry was not one of them. Neither was she, come to think of it. But she, at least, didn't bore anyone with loving descriptions of each book in her expansive personal library unless she knew, for a fact, that the person was a bibliophile.

Hands nervously smoothing down the dark fabric of her pencil skirt, she cast about desperately for an excuse to prematurely end the date. She intended to block Jerry Slate from her dating profile as soon as she got home.

Ignoring the gaming babble coming from the other side of the table, Lily concentrated on the fork she held in her hand as an idea came to her. She whispered the words for a simple heat transference spell, her other hand wrapped around the power-anchor amulet she wore tied to her wrist like a bracelet. Her body heat began to seep into the piece of metal, making it grow warm as she grew cooler. When she judged it was sufficiently hot, she made a startled gesture, dropping it dramatically onto the table as she jerked back in her chair.

"Ouch!" she yelped.

"Huh?" Jerry said, stopping mid-sentence. It seemed to be his favorite word, along with oh.

"I wasn't paying attention and tried to pick up my fork. It's very hot. It burned my hand. They must have just washed it in an industrial washer."

Jerry reached forward to touch the fork experimentally, hand stopping short as he felt the heat emanating from the offending utensil.

"Gosh, that is hot. Are you okay? You don't look so good." Jerry's brow furrowed in confusion. Not even he was absentminded enough to miss the fact that their silverware had been sitting, quite cool and harmless, for a good fifteen minutes since they'd gotten there.

Lily made a show of feeling her forehead, hoping to redirect his attention. "I feel all clammy. I should probably go home. I could be getting sick. Thanks so much for the food!"

With a touch of guilt, she fled the restaurant, not looking back. If she had, she would have felt better. Jerry's momentarily stunned face quickly smoothed over as he noticed the untouched burger at her place and, not wanting to waste food, began demolishing it as well.

The warm summer air felt good on her face as Lily drove her Honda Civic down Ponce De Leon Avenue, heading back to Agnes Scott College campus. Her soft, chestnut brown hair frizzed in the humidity, despite being pulled back into a severe bun. At least it wasn't whipping around her face and getting stuck in her glasses, as it would've been had she worn it down.

Verdant foliage and colorful flowers crowded around the sidewalks, businesses, and houses lining the street. The abundant plant life was one of the things Lily loved most about Atlanta. It made the place feel less like a big city and more like a well-tended neighborhood. Plus, it reminded her of home in the Alabama backwaters.

Pulling into the college's employee parking lot, Lily gathered her things and headed across campus toward McCain Library. Though originally founded as an elementary school in 1889, Agnes Scott had become a college by the early 1900s. McCain Library, built in 1936, consisted of four main floors, a grand, vault-ceilinged reading hall, and three attached floors dedicated to the stacks. It was a beautiful example of Gothic architecture meeting utilitarian building needs and, along with the other Gothic and Victorian red brick-and-stone buildings around campus, made for a beautiful and relaxing atmosphere.

Though it was Saturday, Lily preferred to take refuge in the library and bury herself in paperwork rather than go home and risk the urge to mope about. The tall ceilings, majestic architecture, and quiet atmosphere would calm her in a way no amount of tea or chocolate could. And, of course, there was the comforting smell of books.

She passed a few groups of girls relaxing or studying on the green—it was a women's college, and non-employee males were discouraged from hanging around campus. On this sunny day, the blue sky and warm grass had lured most students outside to study, so she saw only a few scattered girls working quietly in the library's grand reading hall as she made her way to her office.

Her office was a spacious room on the first floor, with a high ceiling and expansive windows. Tall bookshelves covered most of the other three walls, and a large, mahogany desk dominated the center of the room.

With a sigh, she dropped her purse onto one of the two visitor's chairs—both currently pushed up against her bookshelves as stepladders—and sat down at her desk. The desk's dark wood surface was polished to a shine, and each item on it was arranged neatly. Her computer, pencil holder, and file organizer were placed just so, cleaned spotless, and free of dust. Her shiny, brass nameplate was centered and aligned perfectly parallel to the edge of her desk. It read:

Lillian Singer: Administrative Coordinator/Archives Manager

It was a prestigious position for Lily's relatively young twenty-five years of age. But the fact that the previous archives manager, Madam Barrington, had taken Lily under her wing and personally groomed her for the job had made Lily the obvious choice when Madam Barrington retired a year ago. Beyond the Madam's training and endorsement, however, Lily had been well prepared for the job. With four years of undergraduate work-study in the stacks, not to mention two years as head librarian after graduation, her BA in history and minor in classics were just icing on the cake.

Of course, Lily's love of books, organized nature, and library experience weren't the only reasons behind Madam Barrington's choice. The real reason was she'd needed someone to take over as curator of the "Basement"—a secret archive beneath the McCain Library containing a private collection of occult books on magic, wizardry, and arcane science. Being a wizard herself, Madam Barrington had recognized Lily's innate ability soon after she'd begun her freshman year. The older woman had considered it her duty to keep the then-young and inexperienced girl's insatiable curiosity from getting her killed. Madam Barrington had always been frustratingly vague about exactly who owned the books. Her job, and now Lily's, was to care for them, study them, and act as gatekeeper to their knowledge. Only once had Lily seen Madam Barrington allow access, and that was to a very old gentleman who'd arrived late one night and whispered something in the Madam's ear. When Lily had asked how she would know to let someone in, Madam Barrington had simply smiled her mysterious smile and said, "You'll know."

Lily's worries had faded over time, as not a single person had ever appeared requesting access in the year since she'd taken over. Though the Madam was tight-lipped on the subject, Lily got the impression there weren't many wizards left in the world. Of those who did still exist, only a select few knew of the Basement's whereabouts. That was fine with Lily, as the Basement was her own personal heaven. Knowledge was the next best thing to life itself, and knowledge of the unknown and mysterious was something she'd craved ever since she could remember, long before she had found out she was a wizard and started learning the craft under Madam Barrington's tutelage.

That thirst got her into trouble on some occasions. But just as often, it resulted in exciting discoveries which added to her already encyclopedic mind. Having all of Agnes Scott's stacks, archives, and considerable online research capability at her fingertips was a dream come true, not even counting the Basement.

Now, having settled into her leather desk chair in the sunlit office, Lily relished a moment of glowing satisfaction as she surveyed her domain. Taking a deep breath, she let the disappointment and frustration of an abysmal date fade away, refocusing instead on all the good things in life. Books. Tea. Chocolate. Cats. More books. Who cared about men and dating when you had all that at your fingertips?

Speaking of men...

There was a flourishing knock on her office door and, without waiting for an answer, a tall, lanky man with mussed brown hair came swaggering through. His untucked shirt and worn pants gave him a disheveled look, though he walked as if he wore the finest Italian suit in all the world. On a leather cord around his neck hung a triangular stone with a hole in the middle. She'd always wondered what it was but wasn't one to ask personal questions.

His grand entrance was marred slightly by the absence of her visitor chairs in front of her desk, which interrupted his smooth transition from swaggering in to lounging handsomely across one of them. Instead, he had to reverse direction and pull a chair over from a bookshelf before settling his lanky form into it.

Lily hid a smile, trying to look stern instead.

"Sebastian, how many times do I have to tell you, you're not supposed to be wandering around campus. This is a women's college, and private property."

"Pish." Sebastian waved a hand unconcernedly. "If you're so worried about it, call security." His eyes were bright with mischief.

End preview

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Other books by this author

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The Lily Singer Adventures

Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Book 1: Beginnings

Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Book 2: Revelations

Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Book 3: Allies (coming April 2017)

Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Book 4: Legends (coming April 2017)

The Lily Singer Adventures Novellas

A Study In Mischief

Short Stories

Hope: A Short Story

Eye for an Eye (coming soon!)

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About the Author

Author of a modern fantasy series and award-winning short stories, Lydia Sherrer's goal is to leave the world a better place than when she found it. She believes dark chocolate and tea are legitimate sources of nutrition, and one day hopes to visit every country in the world. She currently resides in Louisville, KY, with her supportive husband and their very vocal cat. Read more at: http://lydiasherrer.com/about
