CODE wITCH:
tHE tRICK
SETUP: Vi & Linc's enemy's origin story began the first day of kindergarten as they both coveted the same red crayon. from that moment onward, their competition grew....but it was when seventeen-year-old violet & linc faced off for the same class presidency that things got a little.......itchy.
lINCOLN
Football clutched in his hands, Lincoln Thorne tuned out the ticking clock and focused on everything except the guys at his side. This was it. The last play of the biggest game of the year, and if everything went according to plan, they’d send the other team packing with their heads hanging in defeat.
If only he could get his head in the game and not on the sidelines…
And it wasn’t Coach Robbins shouting from the fifty-yard line, his red face looking about to blow a gasket that stole his attention. Not even the cheerleaders. Or the fact his father, the Alpha of the North American Pack, sat somewhere in the massive crowd, studying his every move so he could critique him later.
Nope. His gaze strayed to the one person—other than those from the opposing team—who glowered at him from her perch near the water jugs.
Violet-freaking-Maxwell—magicless witch and granddaughter to the Head Witch In Charge.
Writing a feature article for the high-school paper on the team’s road to States, she’d shown up at more than a few practices, gym day, and now tonight’s game. As far as he knew, this was her first one, and if she had her way, her last.
Her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed, looking like she’d rather be at the dentist than there as she jotted something down in her little blue notebook.
As if feeling the weight of his gaze, she glanced up.
Linc couldn’t help himself. He winked, and as he hoped, her pretty, purple eyes narrowed. Annoying her was his favorite pastime, because when the witch got angry, those same eyes emitted a little spark that could make a guy go stupid…
Yeah. It was screwed up, but it was almost compulsory at this point. They’d made a point to get in each other heads since the first day of kindergarten when he borrowed her red crayon. She claimed—to this day—that he’d stolen it, but that hadn’t been the case. He distinctly remembered asking her.
Maybe…
So he hadn’t waited for her acknowledgement before taking it, but that wasn’t his fault. He’d been six and the rainbow on the paper in front of him had needed finishing.
“Yo, Linc! You with us?” Dean, his running back, punched his shoulder, bringing him out of his Violet-haze.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He turned to his waiting team, all looking to him for guidance. “We got this game in the bag, guys. We’re gonna run play twenty-two, get that ball over the line, and then those Beavers are heading back to their dam with their tails between their legs. On the count of three.”
One.
Two.
The team chanted in unison, “Do. It.”
And they did it, Linc fake-passing the ball to a second running-back before secretly placing it in Dean’s hands. The senior all-star took off like someone lit his heels on fire, and then it was game over.
Trojans won 24-20.
The crowd roared, feet stomping on the metal bleachers as Linc’s teammates piled on top of each other in celebration. Dean completed his end zone victory dance and vaulted on top. Linc laughed with the guys as they headed toward the sidelines, a few of the seniors already planning the after-party.
Tugging off his helmet, Linc headed toward Violet. “That was one hell of a game. I can’t wait to read your article about how we came back from behind. It’ll make a great story.”
Her gaze snapped to his and she shrugged. “Eh. You came back because you finally threw the ball to an actual person and not an empty spot on the field. Not much of a spine-tingling narrative in that.”
“You can’t be serious. I don’t know what game you were watching, but it wasn’t the one we just played.”
“Trust me. I was here…for every monotonous second of it.”
Linc’s teammates brushed by them, a few giving him a smack on the back on their way to the showers. Others watched them curiously as they passed. He ignored them all and focused on the unimpressed girl in front of him.
He took on her challenge and folded his arms over his chest. “So you weren’t impressed with the game. What does impress you, Violet Maxwell? Please don’t tell me you’re more of a golf girl.”
“Sports don’t much impress me at all. If you’re in the less than one percent who are lucky enough to make a professional living off it, that luck it almost always short-lived…and then what? You’ve dedicated a huge portion of your life to something you only get to do for a fraction of it. It’s counter-productive.”
“But it’s fun.”
“So’s debate club…and running for office chairs, and you can actually use those things as stepping stones for bigger things…things that aren’t end zone dances.”
While he didn’t agree one hundred percent, she had a point. At some point in the future, his father expected him to take over as Alpha and being an efficient one meant knowing a hell of a lot more than how to throw a forty-yard pass.
“I could probably benefit from some of those stepping stone activities,” Linc admitted with a slight nod.
“You definitely could…”
“Thanks for pointing it out to me…”
“Sure...” Her purple eyes narrowed as she studied him.
Linc smirked, that damn need of his to see her all sparkly-eyed and annoyed, roaring back with a vengeance. “I think I’ll start with running for class president.”
Her mouth slackened a split second before she caught herself, clamping it shut. “What?”
“Isn’t there a class election happening soon? Pretty sure I saw a flier on the bulletin board in the commons.” And he’d heard from the Athens High grapevine that she was the only one running for the Prez spot.
“Why would you want to start with that?” Violet finally asked.
“It seems as good a starting point as any.”
“The class presidency isn’t a starting point. It’s an important position that can guide the future of our entire graduating class, and even the classes after. It’s time consuming and requires someone who can give it the attention it needs.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, prepping to see the sparks…
“Eh, I don’t know. I mean, there’s not much to do until it’s time to plan the graduation after-party, is there?”
Her eyes widened to dinner plate size…bingo. “There is a lot to do! Student issues. Rule reformations. Being the liaison between the entire student body and the administration.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking too wide. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Rules, Lincoln. You’re not a fan of rules unless you’re making them yourself.”
He grinned knowingly. “You’re not trying to talk me out of it because you’re afraid of a little healthy competition, are you? Because if I remember the word on the circuit correctly, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get the gig.”
“Uh, no.” Violet scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not worried in the least.”
“You sure? Because you look a little concerned.”
“Nope.” She smiled, but her lips twitched as she forced it to stay on her face.
“Then cool. I’ll head to the office first thing in the morning to put my name in the ring.” He winked, practically hearing her teeth grind together as he passed. “May the best Supernatural win…”
If only he could get his head in the game and not on the sidelines…
And it wasn’t Coach Robbins shouting from the fifty-yard line, his red face looking about to blow a gasket that stole his attention. Not even the cheerleaders. Or the fact his father, the Alpha of the North American Pack, sat somewhere in the massive crowd, studying his every move so he could critique him later.
Nope. His gaze strayed to the one person—other than those from the opposing team—who glowered at him from her perch near the water jugs.
Violet-freaking-Maxwell—magicless witch and granddaughter to the Head Witch In Charge.
Writing a feature article for the high-school paper on the team’s road to States, she’d shown up at more than a few practices, gym day, and now tonight’s game. As far as he knew, this was her first one, and if she had her way, her last.
Her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed, looking like she’d rather be at the dentist than there as she jotted something down in her little blue notebook.
As if feeling the weight of his gaze, she glanced up.
Linc couldn’t help himself. He winked, and as he hoped, her pretty, purple eyes narrowed. Annoying her was his favorite pastime, because when the witch got angry, those same eyes emitted a little spark that could make a guy go stupid…
Yeah. It was screwed up, but it was almost compulsory at this point. They’d made a point to get in each other heads since the first day of kindergarten when he borrowed her red crayon. She claimed—to this day—that he’d stolen it, but that hadn’t been the case. He distinctly remembered asking her.
Maybe…
So he hadn’t waited for her acknowledgement before taking it, but that wasn’t his fault. He’d been six and the rainbow on the paper in front of him had needed finishing.
“Yo, Linc! You with us?” Dean, his running back, punched his shoulder, bringing him out of his Violet-haze.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He turned to his waiting team, all looking to him for guidance. “We got this game in the bag, guys. We’re gonna run play twenty-two, get that ball over the line, and then those Beavers are heading back to their dam with their tails between their legs. On the count of three.”
One.
Two.
The team chanted in unison, “Do. It.”
And they did it, Linc fake-passing the ball to a second running-back before secretly placing it in Dean’s hands. The senior all-star took off like someone lit his heels on fire, and then it was game over.
Trojans won 24-20.
The crowd roared, feet stomping on the metal bleachers as Linc’s teammates piled on top of each other in celebration. Dean completed his end zone victory dance and vaulted on top. Linc laughed with the guys as they headed toward the sidelines, a few of the seniors already planning the after-party.
Tugging off his helmet, Linc headed toward Violet. “That was one hell of a game. I can’t wait to read your article about how we came back from behind. It’ll make a great story.”
Her gaze snapped to his and she shrugged. “Eh. You came back because you finally threw the ball to an actual person and not an empty spot on the field. Not much of a spine-tingling narrative in that.”
“You can’t be serious. I don’t know what game you were watching, but it wasn’t the one we just played.”
“Trust me. I was here…for every monotonous second of it.”
Linc’s teammates brushed by them, a few giving him a smack on the back on their way to the showers. Others watched them curiously as they passed. He ignored them all and focused on the unimpressed girl in front of him.
He took on her challenge and folded his arms over his chest. “So you weren’t impressed with the game. What does impress you, Violet Maxwell? Please don’t tell me you’re more of a golf girl.”
“Sports don’t much impress me at all. If you’re in the less than one percent who are lucky enough to make a professional living off it, that luck it almost always short-lived…and then what? You’ve dedicated a huge portion of your life to something you only get to do for a fraction of it. It’s counter-productive.”
“But it’s fun.”
“So’s debate club…and running for office chairs, and you can actually use those things as stepping stones for bigger things…things that aren’t end zone dances.”
While he didn’t agree one hundred percent, she had a point. At some point in the future, his father expected him to take over as Alpha and being an efficient one meant knowing a hell of a lot more than how to throw a forty-yard pass.
“I could probably benefit from some of those stepping stone activities,” Linc admitted with a slight nod.
“You definitely could…”
“Thanks for pointing it out to me…”
“Sure...” Her purple eyes narrowed as she studied him.
Linc smirked, that damn need of his to see her all sparkly-eyed and annoyed, roaring back with a vengeance. “I think I’ll start with running for class president.”
Her mouth slackened a split second before she caught herself, clamping it shut. “What?”
“Isn’t there a class election happening soon? Pretty sure I saw a flier on the bulletin board in the commons.” And he’d heard from the Athens High grapevine that she was the only one running for the Prez spot.
“Why would you want to start with that?” Violet finally asked.
“It seems as good a starting point as any.”
“The class presidency isn’t a starting point. It’s an important position that can guide the future of our entire graduating class, and even the classes after. It’s time consuming and requires someone who can give it the attention it needs.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, prepping to see the sparks…
“Eh, I don’t know. I mean, there’s not much to do until it’s time to plan the graduation after-party, is there?”
Her eyes widened to dinner plate size…bingo. “There is a lot to do! Student issues. Rule reformations. Being the liaison between the entire student body and the administration.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking too wide. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Rules, Lincoln. You’re not a fan of rules unless you’re making them yourself.”
He grinned knowingly. “You’re not trying to talk me out of it because you’re afraid of a little healthy competition, are you? Because if I remember the word on the circuit correctly, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get the gig.”
“Uh, no.” Violet scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not worried in the least.”
“You sure? Because you look a little concerned.”
“Nope.” She smiled, but her lips twitched as she forced it to stay on her face.
“Then cool. I’ll head to the office first thing in the morning to put my name in the ring.” He winked, practically hearing her teeth grind together as he passed. “May the best Supernatural win…”
VIOLET
Vi’s bookbag flopped against her back as she half-jogged, half-speed-walked down the trail that led from the football field to home. Thumpity thump. Thumpity thump. No doubt the hard corner slicing through her spinal column with each thump was her Calculus text—a pain in and out of the classroom. But she needed to get home pronto, and wrangling the troops—aka, her sisters—because this could not stand.
That irritatingly cute wolf shifter needed to be shown the doghouse.
“Witches! Assemble! Code Witch! I repeat, Code Witch!” The second she burst through the front door, she quickly shucked off her shoes—Rule Number One in Christina Maxwell’s School of Etiquette, and stalked the house looking for her two womb-mates.
She found them both in the basement rec room. Olive, lying on the floor, was surrounded by books and papers and nose deep in a magical history text. And Rose sat at their grandfather’s card table looking positively miserable with her own book stack.
Vi picked up the top one and wrinkled her nose. “Magical Etiquette for Dummies. Yikes.”
“Tell me about it,” Rose muttered. “Please tell me the Code Witch you’re screeching about is because you came into your powers since we saw each other two hours ago.”
Vi snortled. “Hardly. Sorry, sis. The Prima-ship is still all yours.”
“Great.” Rose sounded anything but happy.
Olive reluctantly set her book aside. “What’s with invoking Code Witch? Did something happen at the game? Did we not beat the Beavers?”
“Oh, something happened at the game alright.” Rose fell onto the couch with an angry sigh. “Lincoln-freakin-Thorne. That smug, self-satisfied pain in my…do you know that he basically said that class presidents do nothing but plan the graduation after-party?”
“But we know that’s not true, so…”
“He said he was running, too.”
Rose blinked, confusion furrowing her brow. “Running…like in track or…”
“Running…against me. For class president,” Vi growled, even though growling was Lincoln’s thing. “He basically told me he’s doing it out of boredom. Boredom! This cannot stand.”
As the soon to be Alpha of the North American Pack, the sixteen-old-shifter—and thorn in her magicless backside—had everything handed to him. Football quarterback? Him. Baseball team captain? Also him. He was also voted Best Dressed, Best Smile, and Most Likely to Make Hearts Flutter Everywhere.
And now he wanted to add Class President to his resume.
The supernatural jerk.
Olive tucked her glasses higher on her nose. “Okay, so it’s not the end of the world. That just means that we actually have to run a campaign. Create and hang signage. Search for endorsements. Book speaking engagements…”
“Ooooh,” Rose looked eager. “A debate. You’d wipe the floor with him.”
Vi sighed. “As if anyone would actually listen to the words coming from our mouths. One bat of his eyes and a little dimple flash, and it’ll be over. Debate lost. Election lost. Violet lost…again.”
“You’re not even going to try?” Olive asked, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“Oh, I’m not giving up. I’ll do all the other things…the signs, the endorsements. But it won’t be enough. We need to do something else, too. Something he’d never see coming, and thankfully, I know just the two witches to help pull it off.”
Vi bounced her gaze from triplet to triplet until Rose groaned, catching on to her meaning. “Oh, Vi. I don’t know…”
“It’s the only way I’ll even have a chance at winning this election against Athens’s It boy. And it’s not like I’m talking about dismemberment.”
Olive asked, “What are you talking about?”
Violet pushed a calm, cool, no-big-deal smile to her face. “Just a little hex…”
Both Olly and Rose immediately protested, and she couldn’t blame them. Her last few ‘bright’ ideas hadn’t been very bright. Or well thought out.
“It won’t be like last time, I swear,” Vi vowed.
Her sisters exchanged glances, a visual cue they were weakening…
Rose sighed warily. “Last time, we were grounded for a month, and we only liberated innocent frogs from the science lab. Imagine the punishment Gran will dish up for something like this. A hex…against the Alpha’s son.”
“What’s she going to make you do? Take more magical etiquette classes?”
“What did you have in mind?” Olive asked curiously.
“Just a little case of Lycan Lice. A few wolfbane shampoo treatments and he’ll get rid of it no problem. It’ll be just enough to distract him.” Vi amped up the desperation-factor with a slight lip pout, and divided a pleading look between both sisters. “Please. Don’t make me beg…or play dirty. Because I’ll do it if I have to.”
Rose was already shaking her head. “Don’t you dare…”
“Violet,” Olive whined.
Vi shrugged. “You two leave me no choice. Rose and Olive Maxwell, I invoke the Triplet’s Code of Conduct. An attack on one…”
“Is an attack on all,” Rose and Olive said in unison.
“So who’s sneaking Gran’s spell book out of her office?” Olive asked before slowly sliding her gaze to Rose.
“Oh, come on. Seriously? Why does it always have to be me?”
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Vi shrugged. “Because as the Prima Apparent, it won’t be as suspicious if you’re in her workroom digging around in old books, but if she catches me? Instant red flag. The hex will be up before we even have a chance to warm up the cauldron.”
Rose grumbled, but stood. “Fine…but you both better be standing lookout this time, and not get distracted like you did the last time.”
Vi crossed her heart. “Triplet’s promise. Now let’s go fire us up a good ‘ole case of shifter lice.”
That irritatingly cute wolf shifter needed to be shown the doghouse.
“Witches! Assemble! Code Witch! I repeat, Code Witch!” The second she burst through the front door, she quickly shucked off her shoes—Rule Number One in Christina Maxwell’s School of Etiquette, and stalked the house looking for her two womb-mates.
She found them both in the basement rec room. Olive, lying on the floor, was surrounded by books and papers and nose deep in a magical history text. And Rose sat at their grandfather’s card table looking positively miserable with her own book stack.
Vi picked up the top one and wrinkled her nose. “Magical Etiquette for Dummies. Yikes.”
“Tell me about it,” Rose muttered. “Please tell me the Code Witch you’re screeching about is because you came into your powers since we saw each other two hours ago.”
Vi snortled. “Hardly. Sorry, sis. The Prima-ship is still all yours.”
“Great.” Rose sounded anything but happy.
Olive reluctantly set her book aside. “What’s with invoking Code Witch? Did something happen at the game? Did we not beat the Beavers?”
“Oh, something happened at the game alright.” Rose fell onto the couch with an angry sigh. “Lincoln-freakin-Thorne. That smug, self-satisfied pain in my…do you know that he basically said that class presidents do nothing but plan the graduation after-party?”
“But we know that’s not true, so…”
“He said he was running, too.”
Rose blinked, confusion furrowing her brow. “Running…like in track or…”
“Running…against me. For class president,” Vi growled, even though growling was Lincoln’s thing. “He basically told me he’s doing it out of boredom. Boredom! This cannot stand.”
As the soon to be Alpha of the North American Pack, the sixteen-old-shifter—and thorn in her magicless backside—had everything handed to him. Football quarterback? Him. Baseball team captain? Also him. He was also voted Best Dressed, Best Smile, and Most Likely to Make Hearts Flutter Everywhere.
And now he wanted to add Class President to his resume.
The supernatural jerk.
Olive tucked her glasses higher on her nose. “Okay, so it’s not the end of the world. That just means that we actually have to run a campaign. Create and hang signage. Search for endorsements. Book speaking engagements…”
“Ooooh,” Rose looked eager. “A debate. You’d wipe the floor with him.”
Vi sighed. “As if anyone would actually listen to the words coming from our mouths. One bat of his eyes and a little dimple flash, and it’ll be over. Debate lost. Election lost. Violet lost…again.”
“You’re not even going to try?” Olive asked, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“Oh, I’m not giving up. I’ll do all the other things…the signs, the endorsements. But it won’t be enough. We need to do something else, too. Something he’d never see coming, and thankfully, I know just the two witches to help pull it off.”
Vi bounced her gaze from triplet to triplet until Rose groaned, catching on to her meaning. “Oh, Vi. I don’t know…”
“It’s the only way I’ll even have a chance at winning this election against Athens’s It boy. And it’s not like I’m talking about dismemberment.”
Olive asked, “What are you talking about?”
Violet pushed a calm, cool, no-big-deal smile to her face. “Just a little hex…”
Both Olly and Rose immediately protested, and she couldn’t blame them. Her last few ‘bright’ ideas hadn’t been very bright. Or well thought out.
“It won’t be like last time, I swear,” Vi vowed.
Her sisters exchanged glances, a visual cue they were weakening…
Rose sighed warily. “Last time, we were grounded for a month, and we only liberated innocent frogs from the science lab. Imagine the punishment Gran will dish up for something like this. A hex…against the Alpha’s son.”
“What’s she going to make you do? Take more magical etiquette classes?”
“What did you have in mind?” Olive asked curiously.
“Just a little case of Lycan Lice. A few wolfbane shampoo treatments and he’ll get rid of it no problem. It’ll be just enough to distract him.” Vi amped up the desperation-factor with a slight lip pout, and divided a pleading look between both sisters. “Please. Don’t make me beg…or play dirty. Because I’ll do it if I have to.”
Rose was already shaking her head. “Don’t you dare…”
“Violet,” Olive whined.
Vi shrugged. “You two leave me no choice. Rose and Olive Maxwell, I invoke the Triplet’s Code of Conduct. An attack on one…”
“Is an attack on all,” Rose and Olive said in unison.
“So who’s sneaking Gran’s spell book out of her office?” Olive asked before slowly sliding her gaze to Rose.
“Oh, come on. Seriously? Why does it always have to be me?”
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Vi shrugged. “Because as the Prima Apparent, it won’t be as suspicious if you’re in her workroom digging around in old books, but if she catches me? Instant red flag. The hex will be up before we even have a chance to warm up the cauldron.”
Rose grumbled, but stood. “Fine…but you both better be standing lookout this time, and not get distracted like you did the last time.”
Vi crossed her heart. “Triplet’s promise. Now let’s go fire us up a good ‘ole case of shifter lice.”