Page 15 of Hexed, Vexed, & Undersexed
“Binx,” Preston responds at a distance.
“Really?” I snark.
Those damn Sanderson sisters have cursed me more than the Putnams, I swear.
“Fine, Binx it is. Poor baby. No wonder he’s grouchy; I would be, too. Come on, pretty baby, let’s find you some treats.”
Peter hands me a bag of cat goodies as Preston drags me off—not to somewhere private, though. Nope, to meet the other contestants.
Hopefully, they aren’t as bad as Bellamy Putnam.
Truthfully, they can’t be any worse.
And if they are—I’ll sic my cat on them.
We head into what seems to be the main stage area of the set. Large camera set-ups are scattered throughout the space, angling this way and that, and the noise is amplified by the number of people. Most, I guess, are from the network or its various departments. The contestants, though, they’re easy to spot.
At least I'm not the only one forced to dress up—and by the looks of it, I got the better end of the dress up party.
There are six of us in total, and based on some of the outfits the others are wearing, it seems like the network was able to hit several major stereotypical witches. I thank my lucky pentagrams that Preston didn’t make me wear my hippie get-up here.
"Do I have to meet them?" I murmur loud enough for only my coach to hear.
"It'll be all right, Nora. Promise."
"That's easy for you to say, you don't have to pretend to be something you aren't," I whisper exasperatedly under my breath as he steers us toward the closest contestant.
Binx cuts off our path, hissing at Preston.
"You definitely seem to have another fan," my coach notes, stopping and dropping his hand from my lower back. "It's okay, boy, not hurting her."
His statement is emphasized by him holding up his hands, but Preston doesn’t move away from me. Binx seems to almost understand him, his eyes narrowing before I kneel to try and calm the little—er, giant—cat.
"It's okay, baby, he's one of the good guys," I coo, holding out my fingers for Binx.
Wiggling them slightly, I hold my breath until he saunters over and rubs his forehead against my skin; I’m still not convinced he won’t try to take a nibble out of me. I definitely need to remember to keep him fed.
"Ready to meet the others?" I ask my reluctant people-hating familiar.
His amber eyes pop open in an expression that I can only describe as'witch, what do you think'?
"Yeah, me neither, pal, but the sooner we get it done, the sooner we can relax. Would you like that? Lounge about in the sun for a nice long nap? Hmm?"
"Wow, I never would have pegged you as one to talk to animals much less being able to communicate affectionately," I hear someone sneer. "I always figured Porters had stone cold hearts."
"At leastone of ushas something hard," I counter, glaring up at Bellamy. "It's quite a miracle any of the Putnams have been able to produce with such. . .flimsybroomsticks."
"Oh, it's far from flimsy, Porter, you can check for yourself if you'd like to try my broomstick out sometime," he parries smoothly, a hateful smirk curling his lips.
I seethe, but my body is on a completely different wavelength than my brain because it perks up at the offer. Binx has other plans than imagining all the things I want to do to Bellamy—all in hate, of course, because a Porter would never fall for a Putnam,obviously. My familiar sprints forward, swiping out with extended claws, scratching Bellamy on the shin.
"Fuck!" he shouts, jumping back from the black cat, glaring at me all the while. "I'll leave you to communicate with your devil cat. Have fun with those two, Preston."
"Nora and I are having quite a lot of fun already, thanks," Preston parries smoothly, sending a shiver down my spine at the molten sound.
The heat in his voice is slight, but not lost on me—or Bellamy—who narrows his gaze and grinds his teeth before striding away without another word.
Good riddance.
