What the hex, p.1
What the Hex, page 1
PRAISE FOR
GO HEX YOURSELF
“Go Hex Yourself is one of those books: the ones you read even though you should be getting ready for work; the ones you cannot help telling your friends about; the ones that make you giggle out loud on the bus; the ones that are so addictively charming, engaging, and cinematic, you just cross your fingers and hope someone will turn them into a movie. And that’s because Go Hex Yourself is a romantic masterpiece, and the sexiest, most bewitching take on enemies-to-lovers I’ve read in ages. I want to live in the worlds Jessica Clare creates, and I cannot wait for her next book.”
—Ali Hazelwood, New York Times bestselling author of The Love Hypothesis
“This whimsical witchy rom-com absolutely sparkles with humor and charm. Its vibrant characters, unique magic system, and smoking-hot romance will keep readers enthralled. I found myself compulsively turning pages, laughing and swooning all along the way. A spellbinding delight!”
—India Holton, national bestselling author of The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels
“A magical rom-com with both literal and figurative sparks aplenty.”
—PopSugar
“The snarky banter and paranormal elements make for a fun, otherworldly romance with plenty of heart.”
—Washington Independent Review of Books
“This is a super fun paranormal romance with an interesting magical system. It’s written with fans of the enemies-to-lovers and grumpy/sunshine tropes in mind, and has entertaining side characters. Definitely pick this up when you’re in the mood for a lighthearted romance with a few laughs and some steam.”
—Book Riot
“Jessica Clare knows her way around ‘the other world’ when it comes to romance.”
—Barnes & Noble
“In this breezy paranormal rom-com from bestseller Clare, an intense young woman trying to pay off family debts finds a job with unexpected erotic side benefits. . . . Fans of Katie MacAlister and Annette Blair will be pleased.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A lighthearted and fun romp.”
—Library Journal
TITLES BY JESSICA CLARE
HEX SERIES
Go Hex Yourself
What the Hex
WYOMING COWBOYS
All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy
The Cowboy and His Baby
A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe
The Cowboy Meets His Match
Her Christmas Cowboy
The Bachelor Cowboy
Holly Jolly Cowboy
ROUGHNECK BILLIONAIRES
Dirty Money
Dirty Scoundrel
Dirty Bastard
THE BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB
Stranded with a Billionaire
Beauty and the Billionaire
The Wrong Billionaire’s Bed
Once Upon a Billionaire
Romancing the Billionaire
One Night with a Billionaire
His Royal Princess
Beauty and the Billionaire: The Wedding
BILLIONAIRES AND BRIDESMAIDS
The Billionaire and the Virgin
The Taming of the Billionaire
The Billionaire Takes a Bride
The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake
Billionaire on the Loose
THE BLUEBONNET NOVELS
The Girl’s Guide to (Man)Hunting
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male
The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild
The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving
The Billionaire of Bluebonnet
Berkley Romance
Published by Berkley
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
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Copyright © 2023 by Jessica Clare
Excerpt from Go Hex Yourself copyright © 2022 by Jessica Clare
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Clare, Jessica, author.
Title: What the hex / Jessica Clare.
Description: First edition. | New York: Berkley Romance, 2023.
Identifiers: LCCN 2022033394 (print) | LCCN 2022033395 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593337585 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9780593337608 (ebook)
Subjects: LCGFT: Romance fiction. | Novels.
Classification: LCC PS3603.L353 W47 2023 (print) | LCC PS3603.L353 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23/eng/20220715
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022033394
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022033395
First Edition: April 2023
Cover design and illustration by Ana Hard
Book design by Daniel Brount, adapted for ebook by Molly Jeszke
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Cover
Praise for Go Hex Yourself
Titles by Jessica Clare
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Excerpt from Go Hex Yourself
About the Author
_143000291_
For Kristine, whose edits are always *chef’s kiss*
1
WILLEM
Sir?”
I look up from the book in my lap, annoyed that one of the servants has bothered to disturb me in my study. Putting aside the treatise on the casting benefits of various types of dried beetles as spell components, I eye my housekeeper. “Is there a problem?”
She gestures feebly toward the front of the house. “It’s happening again.”
My annoyance disappears immediately, replaced with surging anger and frustration. I jump to my feet, racing out of my study and down the hall. “Where?”
“M-mailbox,” she calls after me. “Dorothy found a dead bird in your mailbox.”
I storm out the front door and into the neighborhood. My house is in a little suburban community of other witches and warlocks, because it’s easiest to have neighbors that won’t call the police on me at all hours. I scan my lawn and the driveway. Nothing seems amiss, but the mailbox is hanging open. Biting the inside of my cheek, I manage to keep a bland expression on my face as I stalk toward the curb. One quick glance inside the mailbox shows that Dorothy did not lie. There’s a dead dove inside, nestled atop my mail.
That weasel.
I knew he’d come after me, especially after I’d just stolen his prized library. It’s an affront that can’t go unrecognized. Still, to frighten my housekeeping staff feels petty. He’s lucky they’re well aware I’m a warlock . . . even if they’re not aware that I’m a stifled one.
I pull out the dove, irritated. The breast of the dead bird has been painted with runes, and I’m sure if I opened it up and examined the contents of its stomach, I’d find laurel leaves and a pebble from a hero’s grave. It’s a specific sort of spell that my nemesis is casting, one designed to break my wards and make my house vulnerable to others. This isn’t the first time that my old master Stoker has tried this sort of stunt. Ever since I left his service, he’s tried to have me killed.
However, it is the first time he’s cast a curse at my current house. The house I’d had built to my specifications ten years ago, after I’d been forced to move from the last one because Stoker had found me again. He wants to make my life hell.
And since I can’t cast to protect myself, the only thing I can do is avoid him.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have stolen his books.
Ten years ago, I thought moving would solve my problems. My enemies would no longer have my address, and I d finish the rest of my probationary period out under the radar. It’s clear that Stoker won’t rest until he finds me, and it doesn’t matter how many times I move. The man’s held a grudge for 250 years. Of course he’s going to attack me while I’m vulnerable.
Well, no more. I’m not retreating. I’m done hiding. I made the first move, so I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s retaliating. Still, a dead dove is a little . . . over the top.
I take the dead bird inside with me and hand it to the housekeeper, who makes a sound of protest. “Get rid of that.”
“But, sir—”
“I’ll be in my study.” I head for the bathroom, wash my hands, and then walk back to my study, locking the door behind me. I want to go down to my laboratory, but I never go when the help staff is here. No one can know about the secret door I’ve had built that leads down to my lab and my trove of stolen spell books. For now I have to wait.
I take a deep breath, thinking through everything I need to get done. New wards around the house—that’s the first priority. An obfuscation spell to hide my address from anyone looking it up online. Each spell will wear me out for at least a week. All of them together and I’ll be out of action for well over a month. Without a familiar to act as my power source, I’ll be forced to rely on my own limited pool of energy. That means everything will take twice as long to cast and will leave me vulnerable. I can’t pay another witch or warlock to do it for me, because they’ve been forbidden to assist in my casting. It’s part of my “punishment.”
Only ten more years to go.
The thought is a dismal one.
Maybe I should start out with scrying, I decide. See what exactly Stoker plans—
A loud chirp echoes in the room.
My eyes snap open, and I look at the “mailbox” atop the mantel of the fireplace. An envelope is inside, delivered by mystical means. It’s the only way my old master—my other old master, the one that’s not trying to kill me—communicates with me. I stride over toward it and tear the wax seal off the back of the envelope, reading the contents of the letter.
Stoker is on the move. Be aware.
—Abernathy
I crumple it and toss the notice to the ground. “Thanks for nothing, but you’re a bit late.”
2
PENNY
There’s nothing better than a well-established routine.
I love knowing what to expect. I love everyone playing their individual part, and watching it all come together. Maybe that’s me romanticizing even the mundane aspects of life, but the best kind of progress happens when the system works like a well-oiled machine. That’s why I don’t mind the weekly meeting of the Society of Familiars. Some people might find it boring, but I love it.
Well, most nights I love it. The current president of our society is . . . a bit difficult to listen to for long periods of time, if I’m being honest. I stifle a yawn as Derek Chapman bangs a gavel on the meeting table and then drones on. “Any other news to discuss before the society?”
It’s silent.
“Anyone? Anyone?”
I glance out at the gathered audience. There are twenty people here tonight. There should be all fifty of our local members out there, but a lot of them lose faith and stop attending, or they come around just enough to renew their dues and then disappear again for another year. I’m doing my best to make coming to society meetings more fun, but sometimes it feels like an uphill battle since no one else is putting in effort. I don’t blame them for feeling down about things. It’s hard to keep being positive when year after year, there’s no opportunity to apprentice. But I believe in positivity, and I’m sure our situation will change at some point. We just have to keep on.
“Anyone?” Derek drones out again.
Derek doesn’t think he’s part of the problem with the Fam, as we call the Society of Familiars. It’s an ironic name, because none of us are actually familiars. We’re the pool of candidates in waiting to become familiars. We’re here because we have the bloodlines and the inclination, and we’re just waiting for a witch or a warlock to come along with an opening for an apprentice. Until that glorious moment happens, all we have is the Fam.
And Derek isn’t exactly a dynamic leader. He’s dry and boring. He reads in a monotone from manuals instead of learning the information and speaking about it from the heart. He hyperfixates on tiny things about the society, like dues and attendance, and focuses less on the people themselves and what they bring to the group. As a result, our attendance numbers keep dwindling. You don’t have to attend all the meetings to be in the society, of course, but as someone that loves to be part of the group, it’s hard for me to watch everyone peel away under Derek’s lead.
“This is your opportunity to speak up,” Derek continues in the same colorless voice. He rubs his nose rather wetly, examines his fingers, and then peers out at the group. “Might I remind you that attendance and joyful participation will be considered by some warlocks and witches as a sign of enthusiasm.”
Ugh. Please. There’s a hierarchy to our group. Names are put on the list in order of how long we’ve been waiting and rarely get shuffled. The warlock or witch then pulls from the top candidates. It doesn’t have anything to do with “joyful participation.” That’s just Derek being, well, Derek.
I raise my hand and bounce to my feet, clutching my notes. Time to save the day. “I just wanted to say to please remember to bring your cookies for next week’s baking swap! All cookies, cupcakes, and brownies are welcome, but remember that if you use known allergens or rare spell components in your baking, to please label your goods accordingly.” I glance around the room, smiling at everyone as warmly as I can. “I also wanted to get volunteers for the car-wash fundraiser for Abby this weekend, and a reminder that several of us are going out for drinks after this. Everyone is of course invited!”
“Thank you, Penny,” Derek replies, his monotone drowning the shot of fun I just tried to inject. “Any other familiar business?”
No one speaks up. There’s a polite cough in the back.
“Then I’d like to close the meeting—” Derek begins, lifting his gavel like he’s a judge.
“Wait.” Someone in the audience stands up. It’s Cody, a good friend of mine. We’re about the same age and in the same situation—as in, we’re both from a long line of familiars, and yet we have no one to serve. “When are we opening up membership again?”
I look over at Derek, who frowns. “We’re not.”
In the audience, Cody looks unhappy with this bit of information. “Why not?”
Derek blinks. He’s elderly, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s forgotten where he’s at, and my heart squeezes with pity. Poor old thing. But then he turns to me, a hint of confusion on his face. “Why not?”
I have to answer? I stammer for a moment, then try to frame it in as positive a light as possible. “Right now we’re focusing on our existing members to give them the best opportunity for familiarship possible.”
“So in other words, we’re not letting in new people because it’d make things too competitive?” Cody crosses his arms, his pose challenging. “Doesn’t that seem a little unfair?”
I look over at Derek, but he’s still watching me, so I bite back a sigh of frustration and keep a bright smile on my face. I shouldn’t be surprised that Derek is making me do part of his job. I kinda end up doing it anyhow. “Membership being open or closed is voted upon at the annual meeting. If everyone feels really strongly about opening up for new applicants, we can take a vote then. Or you can send a formal request to have it added to a future agenda—”
Cody waves a disgusted hand at me and sits back down.
Oh. Well then. I keep smiling and look over at Derek. I guess it’d be impolite to point out that not only did Derek propose that we close enrollment, but he’s supposed to be the one enforcing it, not me. Then again, if he’s having trouble remembering where he’s at, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he’s forgetting this, too.
