The Wild Ways Read Online Free

turquoise she currently wore, and finally finished with the dark blonde/golden brown that was the Gale family default.
    “You’re right,” she sighed, suddenly very tired. “The hair’s become shtick.” She sagged forward until her whole body pressed against the glass and wondered, yet again, how Auntie Catherine had slid inside. What had she seen inside the mirror? Had she been Alice or the Red Queen?
    Stupid question.
    She’d been the Jabberwocky.
    Because Auntie Catherine had done what every Gale with Wild Powers did. She’d gone Wild. The we know best of the aunties had become a much less restrained I know best and anything that made the aunties seem restrained, was pretty freakin’ scary.
    In the mirror, Charlie’s reflection aged, hair graying, gray eyes darkening to auntie black.
    “Yeah, I know.” She straightened, feeling every kilometer of the drive south from Fort McMurray in a retired school bus with no air-conditioning. Her reflection continued to lean against the inside of the glass. “You’re not going anywhere and I’ve still got plenty of time to work out how Auntie Catherine did it.”
    Halfway up the back stairs, the door to the apartment on the second floor slammed open, slammed shut, and Charlie suddenly found herself facing a seriously pissed-off teenage boy—the smoke streaming out of his nostrils a dead giveaway of his mood. He rocked to a stop and glared, hazel eyes flashing gold, pale blond hair sticking out in several unnatural directions, wide mouth pressed into a thin line.
    “Jack.”
    “Oh, you’re back.”The smoke thickened. “Good.You can tell Allie I don’t have to put up with this stuff!”
    “She’s making you listen to Jason Mraz again?”
    “What?” He had to stop and think, rant cut off at the knees. Charlie gave herself a mental high five; she rocked at pissy mood deflection. “No! She thinks I’m helpless!”
    “Does she? Well, she thinks Katy Perry is edgy, so . . .” Charlie shrugged, letting the wall hold her up for a while. “Where are you heading?”
    “Flying!”
    “It’s . . .” It was too much effort to look at her watch, so she settled for general and obvious. “. . . late.”
    His eyes narrowed. “That’s what Allie said!”
    “Yeah, but I’m not trying to stop you. Go. Fly.” She waved the hand not holding the guitar in the general direction of the back door. “It’s not like you can’t handle anything that sees you.”
    “That’s what Graham said,” Jack admitted, the smoke tapering off.
    “He’s smarter than he looks. Just try to handle it non -fatally, okay? I’ve had a long day, and you know Allie’ll make me come with her to deal with the bodies.”
    “Bodies.” His snort blew out a cloud of smoke that engulfed his head and he stomped past, close enough Charlie could feel the heat radiating off him, but not so close she had to exert herself to keep from being burned. “Jack, don’t burn down the building,” he muttered as he descended. “Jack, don’t turn the Oilers into newts and then eat them. Jack, don’t eat anything that you can have a conversation with. This world sucks!”
    He made an emphatic exit out into the courtyard, slamming the door with enough force that the impact vibrated past Charlie’s shoulder blades.
    “Well . . .” Charlie lurched away from the wall’s embrace and up the remaining stairs. “. . . that explains why the door’s sticking.”
    Jack loved hockey, although he thought it wasn’t violent enough. He’d spent his first season as an enthusiastic Calgary Flames fan, learning the unfortunate fact that enthusiasm wasn’t enough and devouring their opponents wasn’t allowed.
    The new scorch mark on the apartment door came as no great surprise.
    “Because he’s fourteen,” Allie was saying as Charlie let herself in, put down her guitar, and closed the door. “And we’re responsible for him.”
    “He’s a fourteen-year-old Dragon Prince and a fully operational sorcerer.”