Chapter 11

T rixie

I wasn't sure what Dominic was playing at, essentially delivering an eviction notice mere seconds after the events of last night. It felt like a jab, a knife to the gut after the way he'd held me close, the way he'd cared for me when I'd been practically comatose.

"Maybe it was all bad timing," Emmy said. "I'll bet you he's got a team of lawyers on this sort of thing. He had a head of security for crying out loud, Trix. He probably didn't even know the letters were going out today."

"Yeah, but the whole team is still working for him." I strapped on a pair of goggles. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"I don't really think we need to go this far."

"Fine," I said, studying the sprawl of vials and potions and supplies spread out on the dining room table before me. "Thanks for letting me use your lab."

I didn't know how to work ten percent of what Emmy had in her lab. But I did know for a fact that my little packet of hog's hair should never be mixed with giant squid ink at the risk of it creating a toxic potion that'd blow my hair right off. So that was what I was going to do.

I had a plan. I reached for a petri dish and fished out a couple of hog's hairs. I grabbed the bottle of giant squid ink and shook it, eyeing it up as I procrastinated, feeling Emmy practically hyperventilating next to me .

"Yes," I muttered, loud enough for her to hear, "this should do the trick."

"Oh, you're hopeless." Emmy finally swept in next to me. "If you combine those two ingredients, you won't have eyebrows for a month."

"Are you offering to help me?"

"Fine, I'll guide you, but I'm not touching anything. I'm definitely not taking responsibility for this stupid hate hex. It could get me kicked out of grad school before I even start."

"That's fair," I said, gleeful my slightly nefarious plan had worked to get Emmy's assistance. She simply couldn't handle the thought of a potion gone wrong when she could step in and fix things. I rubbed my hands together, cracked my knuckles. "I was thinking we give Dom a taste of the real world."

"The real world?" Emmy frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just a harmless hex to let the billionaire vampire know how it'll feel when we lose our home."

Emmy sighed again. "I don't like the look in your eye."

"Then don't look into my eyes. Hand me that dropper full of green sludge."