Don't Hex with Texas (Page 103)


She pulled herself halfway out of the water and picked up one of the necklaces. Her eyes went wide as she held it. “This is a generous gift,” she said. “We are in your debt.” She turned her head and made a high-pitched sound that reminded me of dolphins. Soon, we were surrounded by pinpricks of light as all the magical creatures converged. “We will fight at your side tonight.” Then she batted her eyes at Owen and lifted her seaweedy hair off her neck, completely baring her torso. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to help me put one on…”

He obliged, blushing slightly and avoiding looking at me. He needn’t have been embarrassed on my account. I didn’t feel particularly threatened by a chick who lived in the water, unless she pulled some Little Mermaid stunt to be with him. The cheap metal Lone Star necklace looked out of place on her unearthly form, and I tried not to wish that it turned her skin green.

Sam swooped in then and said, “Looks like the party’s about to begin over at the courthouse. And funny, the gang’s a lot smaller than it was.” If he’d had feathers, he would have preened, he looked so proud.

“I guess I’ll go be the bait,” Owen said. “I’ll need Katie with me. The rest of you, stand by.”

Merlin stepped up in front of Owen, staring him in the eye. Most of the time, Merlin seemed like a kindly, cheerful older gentleman, the sort you could imagine playing Santa at the children’s hospital every Christmas. But every so often, without saying or doing anything in particular, there was something about him that made you well aware that he was a legendary sorcerer from more than a thousand years ago. This was one of those times, and I could tell from the way Owen stood that he sensed that, too. “I will be able to rely on you in this?” Merlin asked him.

“Yes, sir.”


“You remember what your priority is, and that your personal concerns have to be secondary?”

Owen glanced ever so slightly at me, then said, “Yes, I do.” I couldn’t help but gulp. Merlin was basically reminding him that he was supposed to catch the bad guy instead of rescuing me, and while I was in favor of that in theory, it made it kind of suck to be me.

“Very well, then.” Merlin then stepped aside, and Owen moved to catch up with me.

When we reached the courthouse square, he took my hand. “Do you see anything?”


“Yeah, the League of Extraordinary Dolts is gathered around the Confederate War Veterans statue, with the chief dolt doing his Hitler oratorical impression, complete with spittle. Why, you don’t see it?”

He shook his head. “He must be filtering against me.”

“I guess that goes with the territory of being public enemy number one.”

We moved closer so I could hear what was going on. I relayed the gist of it to Owen, feeling like one of those simultaneous translators at the United Nations must in having to listen and talk at the same time.

“He sounds pretty frantic,” I said. “He’s yelling at them for failing him because they weren’t able to catch you. They’re not fit to call themselves wizards, but at least they’re better than all those who were even weaker and ran away in fright.”

Idris worked himself up into a good fever pitch, then yelled, “I’m finished with all of you if you don’t catch that wizard tonight.”

I passed that on to Owen, who said, “That sounds like my cue.” I led him to where I was sure he’d be visible even if he couldn’t see them. He cleared his throat, then said in a loud, clear voice, “If you want me so badly, Phelan, why don’t you get me yourself instead of sending your lackeys after me?”

I t took a couple of seconds for them to react. First, their heads turned in our general direction. Their eyes widened, and they blinked, then frowned, as though they were comparing Owen in real life to the picture Idris had shown them. The ones who’d actually seen him in person earlier in the day during the car chase had already left town, so there wasn’t anyone in the group who could verify Owen’s identity. In all fairness, he was a little shorter in real life than you might imagine he would be, based on his picture.

“There he is! Get him!” Idris shouted, pointing at Owen. “None of you will ever be real wizards unless you can capture him and bring him to me.”

Owen bent his head to whisper to me, “What’s going on?”

“I guess he hasn’t dropped the veil,” I said. “They’re all gawking at you, and Idris is saying they should go get you.”

“Ah, thank you.” Then he spoke to Idris. “Are you afraid I’ll beat you again?” I nudged him to turn a few degrees so he’d actually be facing the person he was addressing. If Idris hadn’t been such a jerk, he might have let Owen see what was going on.