Dad pulled something thin and cylindrical out of the pocket of his sports jacket.
I blinked.Is that a can of mace?
He handed me the object. “This is a blend of metals and potions. It’s to keep you safe, and should be effective against hostile fae, shifters, vampires, and demons. Keep it with you at all times.”
“Err, alright, thanks.” I glanced down at the can, perplexed. “Is this because of the trials the headmistress mentioned? Will they allow a weapon like this?”
I wasn’t sure what else to think. Only witches attended Spellcasters. And the academy was so heavily warded that other magicals couldn’t just waltz onto school grounds.
“Please, keep it handy. For us,” Mom replied, her tone shaky.
I nodded and stuck the item into my clutch. It was a small ask, and if it made them feel better, I’d do it.
Trying to lighten the mood, I smiled. “Are you sure this isn’t to keep away the guys? Hunter was pretty smooth with that hand kiss, huh?”
Mom sniffed and let out a tiny laugh. “That boyisa touch too winsome for his own good.” Then without another word, she wrapped her arms around me.
My shoulders released as I took in the scent of my mother, vanilla and myrrh. I buried my face into Mom’s long, brown hair, and Dad’s large hand landed on my shoulder. My heart felt like it was ready to burst.
We stayed like that until Dad whispered something unintelligible on the other side of Mom. She clenched me tight, and for a moment, my blood flow seemed to speed up before returning to normal. I furrowed my eyebrows, but my confusion vanished as Mom choked out a sob and Dad let go of me to steady her.
“It’s time for us to go,” he said.
I pulled away. The sudden movement made me feel strangely lightheaded and over-energized all at once.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the odd sensation so my parents wouldn’t worry more. “Right, me too. Can’t have a party without a host, can we? Just think, tonight, I may meet the best friends of my life.”
“I hope you do, honey.” Tears fell fast and free down Mom’s face. “I really hope you do.”
I wiped the moisture from my eyes as I meandered down the academy hallways. I’d held my shit together until my parents’ taillights disappeared down the tree-lined drive. Then the floodgates had opened.
By the time I reached the Marie Laveau Room, I’d pulled myself back together. After one quick outfit check, I pulled my shoulders back, tilted my chin up, and entered.
The room resembled a den, with books lining the dark mahogany walls, and antlers mounted above a massive hearth. The staff had removed most of the furniture for the mixer, but two larger tables and chairs remained in case people wanted to sit and chat. Thick, red velvet curtains were pulled to the sides of the floor-to-ceiling windows to allow in the right amount of moonlight. Candles littered the room, providing a warm ambiance and adding to the illumination from a crystal chandelier.
I shivered. Although I’d helped set up for the party, that had been in the light of day. Hours ago, it had reminded me of a stuffy library, but now it resembled something out of a James Bond film.
Eva was already there, as was the wink-happy Hunter Wardwell.
And he was spiking the punch.
A giggle burst from me as I took in the scene that was unfolding. Eva was clearly distracting the adults, who were doing last-minute prep, so that Hunter could pour a flask of who-knew-what into the punch.
The moment he’d emptied the flask, Hunter capped it and whipped around. He spotted me watching, grinned like the devil, and strolled to meet me.
I shook my head as he approached. “And to think I thought spy school would besodifferent from high school.”
Hunter winked. “A little . . . social lubricant never hurts in situations like this. Not all of us grew up rubbing shoulders with celebrities or giving speeches to rooms full of important people.” His tone was teasing and light, eliciting a smile from me.
“Telling people we’re having a party ishardlygiving a speech. And please inform people that’s spiked before they drink, in case they’re not into alcohol. They can always request something else from the kitchens.”
“Absolutely,” Hunter agreed.
Eva jogged up, her blue eyes twinkling. “Did you get the job done?”
“He did.” I smirked. These two were going to be trouble.
Over the next half hour, our classmates trickled in. I tried to greet each person and warn them about the spiked beverage. Eva had branched off and was talking to a girl—Amethyst Rhines—who she’d met once with her parents.
