Generation Witch Year One

by Schuyler Thorpe

  “For you or for her?”

  “Both.”

  “Why?” She pressed.

  Charlie sighed softly. “Space requirements for one. But the unspoken rule or taboo in place for fomenting a relationship with someone outside your…race is usually frowned upon with magical kinsfolk like Roz here.”

  “But you would be the closest thing to a human in my book. Even Roz is pretty close to that group demographic! I see it in her face!”

  “That’s because her great-grandfather was human.” Charlie explained then. “Those genes and traits were passed down through the generations to Roz—where she inherited the same qualities of her great-grandfather, but at the same time still remained Elva.”

  “Like my friend Shay. The one whom gave me the Dragon’s Tear.” Tillie recalled.

  “No. Not like Shay. She is pure Elva. Same as her mother. What you’re dealing with her is a half-ling on her father’s side of the family. Where she is now almost human to some degree but retains her Elva heritage because she is quarter of that.”

  “Oh. I see.” The girl murmured to herself. “Then that means that she must retain some of her magical familiar abilities then?”

  “A little.” The older boy conceded somewhat. “But it doesn’t qualify her as full magical familiar. Not even magical kinsfolk. But belonging to a lost generation of outcasts from both demographics of all kind civilization.”

  For a second, Tillie felt genuine sympathy for her soon to be rival and realized that she had a much harder life to live than she ever could.

  Even if she was a witch.

  Shifting in her seat a bit, Tillie ventured: “I guess having someone like you would be an important cornerstone of her life, huh?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “Very much so. Because it was humans that tore apart her family originally after the war and sent them into hiding for awhile—before taking refuge with the Underground.”

  “So she’s never been back onto the surface since coming here all those years ago?”

  The older boy nodded again.

  “That’s pretty much it, yes.” He confirmed then.

  “But she looks so young!” Tillie breathed in amazement. “How can be she be that young, but old at the same time? Especially since the war ended decades ago?”

  “Because Elvish people have a much longer life span than an average human and they age painfully slow as a result—even someone like her—who should be pushing sixty standard years old now is roughly about twenty today in appearance.”

  Tillie leaned forward a bit in her seat. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “No.” The boy said easily enough. “You?”

  Tillie hesitated for a second. “Well, maybe a little. It’s just weird that’s all.”

  Charlie tipped his glass towards her.

  “Well, you’ll get used to it. We all do. It’s part of the shock and transition of forging relationships with different people.”

  Tillie snorted softly. “And here I thought crushing on a guy five years older than me was the absolute ceiling of nuttiness…?” She said to no one in particular.

  “Don’t feel so bad, Tillie. It happens. Just roll with it the best you can.”

  The girl exhaled. Then sighed. “Oh, I am. I am. Just not used to it. That’s all.”

  “At any rate, you’re still welcome to being my friend and Roz’s too—providing—?”

  Tillie nodded eagerly.

  “Yeah. I gotta keep my paws to myself. No problem. I’ll just keep dreaming about it though. That’s all right…right?”

  “I don’t have a problem with it. We all need to hold onto something that makes life more bearable—especially in the here and now.”

  “Yeah, I know. But for me, I was hoping for a quick payoff somewhere down the line. I can’t believe I didn’t see this one coming at all. Completely blew my mind and then some.”

  “Disappointments usually do that, Tillie.”

  The girl laughed a bit.

  “I liked it better when you weren’t so formal.” She admitted out into the open.

  “Like what?”

  “When you used my nickname.”

  “Tillamook?”

  The girl nodded. “Yeah. It sounds easy on the ears. I don’t mind if you use my regular name. But hearing my nickname being used by you is a little…comforting.”

  “Fair enough.” Charlie accepted at that point—before Roz came back from the ladies room with a bit more spring in her step.

  Sliding into her seat, she asked up front: “So…how’d it go?”

  “Oh, you know…boy stuff. Girl stuff. The usual.” Tillie jumped in first before Charlie could even say anything on his behalf.

  “No cold wars?”

  Charlie looked at Tillie for quiet confirmation before shaking his head.

  “No. Not at present. Not unless you want to do the honors and start one before we get our food and then dessert.” He motioned with a spoon.

  Then the waiter appeared before them with a serving cart that had two covered plates, some fresh glasses of water, and a menu card for Tillie Gunderson.

  “There you are,” the man said with practiced air. “And for you. And you as well. Order when you’re ready.”

  Tillie nodded—feeling like she could eat her way out of house and home. The appetizers she had were good, but now she felt like she could eat something a bit more filling.

  “Do you have any vegetarian specialties on order?”

  “We do have a spinach casserole dish which is served with linguini pasta and two fresh hot rolls. Then there’s the martini spice bread with a vegetarian option—either a side salad; which it looks like the one you had—or a fettuccini/fried agamas dish which is very popular with the crowd as of late.”

  “Agamas…” Tillie murmured. “Is that like spiced calamari in any way?”

  “A bit. It’s a Florentine styled seafood option which you would find very easy on the stomach and palatable for the senses. Not too mention great on the taste buds.”

  “Looks like the new girl has found her calling.” Roz quipped in return—staring at her expectant expression.

  Tillie nodded eagerly. “I’ll try that.”

  The waiter dipped his head in acknowledgement while writing down her order.

  “Very good. It should be about fifteen-twenty minutes before your order is ready.” He told her then.

  Tillie pointed at her second plate of appetitive. “I can wait. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” Then the waiter turned and left with his cart full of empty glasses and nothing else—leaving Tillie to try and find something new to occupy her time with; seeing how being in the friend zone with No-Name Charlie was about all she could do at this time without upsetting the proverbial apple cart.

  Or Roz for that matter—knowing some of the back history to the girl’s relationship with him.

  But it still didn’t really matter in the long run. The chance was there to cultivate things further and she wasn’t about to pass up a golden opportunity for a shot at love and romance—even if she did have a little competition along the way.

  But for now, she would play things by ear and offer support when she could—out in the open—but inside, plans were forming for something more devious and exciting than she could put a finger on.

  Given the fact that Charlie gave her the green light in that department.

  Tillie sat back in her seat and nodded mostly to herself.

  It would be an easy plan. A simple plan. But one she could live with. In time, come hell or high water, Charlie would be hers and hers alone.

  With or without the quarter elf girl in the picture.

  Then she shuddered for a second in dread.

  Preferably without. Definitely without. She coached herself quietly. No need for a threesome. That would be…too weird for her tastes.

  So she put on her best face forward and started attacking what was on her second plate—knowing that she wo
uld have more than enough room leftover for her next meal.

  And smiled.

  Definitely smiled.

  She would have to be doing something to keep things in perspective and the other girl off balance—even though she didn’t look or act like she was sixty.

  But that thought led to another and she started wondering if she would reach that age all on her own?

  Then she laughed inwardly and realized that was too weird to think about as well.

  First the guy, then you know…the other thing and then worry about whether or not you’ll even hit sixty. She reflected silently—popping a couple of grapes into her mouth.

  Then she kept eating.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Here Be Dragons

  “How much water does this thing take again?” Jake called out from the kitchen—dragging his girlfriend’s attention from the video screen and the movie White Christmas that she managed to find online—through a restricted search engine and entering her military access code and other pertinent information.

  It was her small gift to him since his collection of 20th century classics was still back home in England for obvious reasons and wasn’t allowed to enter the New Republic under the current travel bans in place by the Regency Council and the Supreme Chancellor.

  “Did you marinate the pot roast like I asked and added Worchester sauce, rosemary, thyme, and oregano?”

  “Yep, yep, and definitely…yep.” Her boyfriend relayed back easily enough. “But is it a full cup of water or a half cup?”

  “Half a cup.” Kara answered without hesitation. “You want everything to cook into the meat. Not get destroyed. So the water will add itself to the broth-like mix at the bottom of the Pampered Chef and make everything nice and tender towards the end.”

  “Okay. Covered or uncovered?”

  “Uncovered, baby.”

  “Got it.” Jake hollered back. There was some movement and the sound of the oven door opening and the Pampered Chef sliding in without much protest.

  “Now what?”

  Kara laughed.

  “Set for 350. Forty-five minutes. You’ll need to repeat this two or three times over the next two hours.”

  “Then what?”

  The woman sighed and got up off the couch. Sometimes her boyfriend would become annoying and hard to deal with—communicate with even—and this was one of them.

  But it wasn’t his fault really. The man never made a pot roast to save his life.

  Coming into the kitchen, she walked over to the oven in order to bypass her boyfriend’s confused look—making it look like he was a monkey trying to do a math problem.

  “Here.” She supplemented helpfully—reaching over to the oven controls and setting the timer to the desired cook time. Then she pressed start.

  The thing beeped once and the oven clicked on a second later.

  “You’re done.” She announced with a bit of warmth of happiness in her voice.

  “How does it feel to make your very own pot roast?”

  “Bloody complicated that’s what.” Jake fumed unhappily. “I thought the thing was going to bite me in the arse after I tore it free from the packaging.”

  “I could do the honors for you baby,” Kara purred with malicious delight—baring her teeth at him playfully.

  “You’ve got such a great butt.”

  Jake chuckled. “Just so long as you promise you won’t shift into your dragon form again. I still feel some leftover tenderness from the last time you chewed on me.”

  Kara giggled at her boyfriend’s apparent misfortunes. “It couldn’t have been that bad. You let me suck you off in the middle of the night while I was still transformed and you found that to be such a huge turn on for you.”

  Jake coughed in quiet embarrassment at his girlfriend’s vocal enthusiasm of such an intimate moment.

  But she saw the look on his face and she grinned.

  “Aw…does my boy toy have a problem with that?” She teased then. Then she embraced him tenderly and started kissing him on the side of his neck and face.

  “Maybe I should do something to help put you at ease?” She coyly suggested—before she sucked on the tip of his earlobe and started chewing mercilessly.

  Jake exploded in a fit of laughter and giggles of his own as he tried to get away from his girlfriend’s strong embrace. But she wasn’t about to let him go for a second—knowing one of his many weak spots.

  “All the hair on my body just stood straight up!” he tried to protest while carrying on like a teenage boy.

  “I know. I can feel it on my skin,” she whispered evilly. “But that must mean it feels good—right?”

  “Yeah! But it’s—!”

  Kara chuckled and said, “What is it, baby?”

  “It tickles!” He managed at last before pulling away—panting and breathing heavily.

  Kara smiled some more, liking the reaction she was getting from him.

  “That’s because I love you, Jake. Love, love, love…”

  Her boyfriend hadn’t quite recovered from his experience as he was dancing around a bit while rubbing his hair vigorously to chase away the euphoric feelings surging through his body.

  “Gah!” he grimaced. “I hate that feeling!”

  Kara laughed. “I don’t think you ever did. You enjoy every moment of it. I can tell.”

  Jake looked at her for a second. “How can you?”

  His girlfriend stepped forward and ran a hand across the bulge in his pants.

  “Do you have to ask hot stuff?” She asked with an appreciable look.

  Jake took her hand away from him and held it for a few moments.

  “Can you blame me?”

  Kara shook her head before kissing him on the nose. “No.” She said softly. “I just want you to feel good. I like it when you feel good.”

  “That’s because it gives you a sense of power over me.” Jake was kind enough to point out.

  “Most definitely…” Kara giggled. “When was the last time you made passionate love to a dragon like me?”

  “Can’t say. You would be the first.” Jake erroneously pointed out—earning a look from his girlfriend.

  “I would hope I would be the only dragon you would make love with,” she pouted somewhat. “Unless you have secret admirers or even a few girlfriends back home?”

  “I have my two baby sisters: Elena and Vera,” he reminded her then. “But they just kept teasing me while we were growing up—always quick to take advantage of my bad luck.”

  “That’s what siblings do sometimes, lover boy.” His girlfriend prodded with a finger. “Now me…?”

  Jake grinned lopsidedly. “Yeah. I know. I’m always on your list.”

  “Your only list. Keep that as a reminder when I cook for you tomorrow morning. A breakfast in bed special.”

  Her boyfriend gave her an appraising look. “You never offered me that since we started going out.”

  “Oh, I’ve offered plenty of times, but you were too drunk to remember. Especially after last year’s New Year’s Party in the Times Square District.”

  Jake nodded with a pained look on his face. “Oh gods…was that a bloody good hangover. I thought I was seeing two of you in the room when you came upstairs to ask me about breakfast.”

  Kara kissed him on the mouth lightly. “You probably did. But you had a damned good time and that’s all that mattered to me—while ringing in the new year.”

  Jake wore a troubled look then. “Honestly? I sometimes think I’m not good enough for you—every time we’re apart.”

  Kara stared at him in that second. Then she smiled. “If you think like that, baby, it may end up happening.”

  “But—”

  Kara reached out to touch his face—turning his gaze towards her so that she could take him in.

  “Jake…long distant relationships are always tough on either party. Especially if you’re military like me—whereas I’m always called away on short notice. But you are
a specialty contractor for the British Commonwealth Naval Administrations Complex in Bristol. You ferry a huge workload pretty much every day when you’re with your company—so the demands of meeting every seemingly impossible deadline weighs on you greatly.”

  “And us.” He muttered with abject misery.

  “And us.” Kara conceded easily enough. “But you rake in the big bucks credit wise, so you’ll never be short on funds. I’m on a military pension plus payroll—which doesn’t pay as well as it should. But it helps pay the bills and keeps a roof over my head. That’s one of the reasons why I can’t suddenly say ‘yes’ to you and elope to merry old England—even if you have money and I don‘t. I treasure my independence greatly. Plus, I have my own career to think about.”

  “So you’re just waiting for me to make the leap to Old New York on a lark?”

  Kara grinned. “My door is open, lover boy. It has more space than your old two-bedroom flat in London.” She pointed out to him. “Plus the neighborhood is decent—military-wise—and there’s not a whole lot of children to be had. Dogs too. Which of course…you’ll have to give back Hostetler to your folks before you depart—because I’m not taking him in.”

  “Too much dog fur?” Jake joked.

  Kara smiled suddenly. “No. Appetizer. You know how dragons are.”

  “But you’re a shifter…”

  “Baby…I may be a shifter, but I’m also one step from going full dragon on you at any time—which is why I have this amulet around my neck. It chains me in my human form—as you know. But I can’t be around animals—even cats. Cats are worse—as my parents found out. That’s why they had to get rid of any in the house before there were possible casualties.”

  “So no pets. No husbands. Not even boyfriends. My what a lonely life you led.” Jake teased—earning a sharp punch to the stomach from his girlfriend in passing.

  Kara Plummer scowled.

  “Keep talking like that and I’ll gnaw off one of your legs for real.” She warned. “Then you really will be stuck with me.”

  “I’ll just bleed all over the carpet instead. How’s that?”

  Kara smiled thinly. “There won’t be any of you left to worry about that, lover boy. Dragons like me eat our prey whole and spit out the leftovers after we finish digesting our intended victims.”