Another Saturday, another twenty-four hours brewing spells in Al's kitchen in the ever-after. I tried not to let my misery get the best of me, considering all the smut that was going to stain my aura once our deal was over, and instead focused on learning everything I could possibly use in my runs or a sticky situation, seeing as how I was usually in one. Al had saved up enough money to get back all his appliances and furniture after he had sold them to extend his court date for teaching me how to spindle ley line energy. I can't lie, he had a fantastic kitchen. It had everything I could possibly need to make any spell in any book over and over again to my heart's desire.
For now he was sitting at the kitchen table writing out paperwork and hardly watching what I was brewing. He had propped open a thick leather-bound book to just past the middle pages and told me to do the first spell on the right at the top. It wasn't relatively meticulous compared to the other spells I've done which is why he probably wasn't too concerned with me messing it up.
Al was sitting at the kitchen table with a pile of papers in front of him and a quill pen that seemed to write in blood and dry into ink. I didn't bother asking about it. He looked studious with his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and his chestnut hair slicked back and out of his face. The cauldron fizzled randomly but his red goat eyes never left his work.
Just as soon as the cauldron started to sizzle again, a small pop resonated throughout the room, "You beckoned, your highness?" rang a pristine angelic voice that almost sounded vulgar as it dripped so much sarcasm. I almost tripped over my own feet as I stumbled to face Al's general direction where the feminine voice was coming from.
"Ursula, darling, my apologies," he said in a tone that indicated he didn't have a single ounce of remorse for his actions.
"Don't look so smug," she snapped back cattily.
He grinned at the young woman standing before him. She was ethereal in her beauty, radiating a soft black glow that shone deep purple against Al's pale face. She had long, silky black hair that reminded me of Ivy's before she cut it, soft and natural but perfectly straight with thick bangs that hid her face from me until she turned at my 'accidental' cough. Her narrow, pointed jaw made her icy blue eyes look that much bigger. "Do you recall, thousands of years ago, the incident at the tea house with the psyche-sensitive Chinese woman?" he asked, drawing out the words to make them more dramatic as she turned back to look at him.
"You mean Ming Li Dai?" she asked. Al nodded once and scribbled something down on his topmost paper. "What about her?"
"Nothing, I just couldn't remember her name for my files," he said. Upon noticing her narrowed eyes and aggressive stance he kept talking, "And I also thought you'd like to meet my new student, Rachel Marianna Morgan. Rachel, this is Ursula, my first and only student until you." I tried not to glare at her too harshly but she was looking me up and down, obviously sizing me up.
"A witch?" she said, her nose twitching slightly as she sniffed the air.
"Interesting, isn't it? You see, Rachel, I haven't had another student since Ursula. I don't usually take requests either but she came to me with," he slowed to choose his words carefully, "an offer I couldn't refuse." He noticed the hostility she was throwing at me with her eyes alone and coughed to get her attention. "I missed you, Ursula," he sang softly, getting her angry again.
"You haven't missed me you lying cod," she growled under her voice so I could barely hear her.
Al continued as if she wasn't threateningly scolding him, "You were the most brilliant student a demon could ask for," he said with a lilt of affection in his voice. Glancing back to me he added, "She's an elf, similar to your friend Ceridwen but from the snowy mountains of Siberia instead of warm western valleys."
"And why exactly do you feel such strong compulsion to divulge this intelligence to a witch?" she asked, still not taking her mind off me despite Al's miserable attempt. She sat on a plush black leather couch and sighed as she massaged her temples, "This is going to come back at me one day, I can feel it in my bones." Her head snapped in my direction suddenly and her clear blue eyes seemed to stare right through me, "Rachel Morgan," she mused slowly as if in deep thought, "So you're the demon-bearing woman."
My jaw would have dropped to the floor if it could, "How do you know that?" was the only thing that came to mind. My own mother didn't even know that.
"Word travels quickly when you're me," she began, "I have a lot of things people want which makes them want to tell me things." The corners of her mouth tugged upwards as she grinned at Al, "What's your take on this? Twist of fate or just a twist of DNA?"