“I don’t. I take annual leave. Besides, I can do a lot from home. I’m the secretary of the witches’ coven.”
Goosebumps prickled over my skin as I pictured him sitting around a stone circle casting spells.
As we made it out of the house, I waved at the snowman, and he grinned. Glad he doesn’t hold my running away and screaming against me. But Charlie wasn’t paying attention as he sped toward the former mayor’s front door.
It was a pleasant evening with a mixture of alphas and omegas, shifters and non-shifters, a few elves and one or two witches. And other than a row of ceramic ducks serenading the guests, which most thought was a cute party trick, and one smashed glass, which happens at most gatherings, it was uneventful, and Charlie’s presence didn’t cause any snafus.
I chatted with Arlo and held Poppy while the omega circulated. I was wary of Fred, though, and after greeting him, I kept my distance.
When Charlie and I said our goodbyes, he offered to walk me home, as it was only two streets over. But when we reached the house, I didn’t want the evening to end, as this quirky wizard intrigued me. And there was something about his bemused expression, as if life constantly surprised him. And I suppose it did in December.
I plucked up courage and asked, “Would you like to meet for coffee tomorrow? I have the afternoon off.” Please say yes.
“I don’t go out much until Christmas Day.”
Is he being polite and trying to let me down easily? “Oh, right.” Disappointment curled around me. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“But we could have coffee at my place,” he suggested.
“I’d love that, Charlie. Arlo says the crepes at Sweet Bites are to die for.”
“You bring the dessert and I’ll make coffee.”
“Great. It’s a date.” Nope. Shit! “I mean it’s not a date. Just two friends… well, almost friends. Ummm… people who are hopefully going to be friends.” Shut it, Miles. You’re babbling. “Future friends meeting for coffee and a chat.” Oh, my God! Me and my freaking motormouth.
“See you after lunch. Night!” He walked off whistling.
Three
December Third: Charlie
I must have peeked out the window a hundred times as I waited for Miles to arrive. If it’d been any other time of the year, I might have sensed when he was close and run out to greet him.
One of my work colleagues also had reindeer and snowmen in her front garden, and this morning I’d tried giving her mine, thinking they’d be among friends. But five minutes after she’d collected them, they were back! Maybe they like it here.
I’d asked Miles to message me before he arrived so, if necessary, I could rescue him from the clutches of my Christmas decorations.
Arlo had brought over a packet of coffee beans. He told me they were the best in Vale Valley, and I’d made him promise not to tell Miles. I didn’t want Arlo to make it into a thing. But he probably would anyway He was as bad as Rosemary with his matchmaking.
As I checked the phone yet again, I was struck by the date. December 3. How is that possible? Normally the time between the first of the month and Christmas Eve dragged. But this year it was whizzing by. What’s different?
I pushed aside the niggling thought that it was to do with Miles. That’s crazy. We met two days ago. We’re friends—or we’re going to be.
The phone buzzed, and my stomach somersaulted as I tore outside and waved at the omega trudging toward my house. I’d hardly noticed my surroundings in the morning, and there was a light covering of snow dotting the landscape. “Hello.”
“Hi, Charlie.” Miles leaned over the gate. “Everyone behaving today?”
“Seems so.” I crossed my fingers behind my back. Technically that’s not a lie. They haven’t misbehaved. The sweet aroma of strawberries floated from a bag the omega was clutching. “Mmmm. Are those strawberry crepes?”
“They are.” He lifted the paper bag and a caramel-like aroma wafted around me and mingled with the omega’s delightful spicy scent.
Yum! And it wasn’t only the crepes I was talking about. “My favorite. How did you know?”
Miles tapped his head. “I have skills.”
No one told me he could see inside my head. This is bad. I did my best to think of other things. Strawberries and cream and fresh coffee. But my thoughts thumbed their nose at me and concentrated on Miles. “You’re a mind reader?”
“No, silly.” The omega giggled, and it was so endearing and infectious, I wanted to hug him, though I had no idea why he was laughing. “Ren told me!”
“Oh, okay.” I exhaled and wiped drops of sweat from my brow. That sneaky reindeer shifter! Maybe Ren can give my Christmas reindeer a talking to!
Miles’ teeth were chattering as I offered him my arm, and we strolled up the path. The snowman bowed, and the omega waved and blew him a kiss. For a Valley newcomer, Miles was fitting in well.
“Mmmm.” We walked inside, and the omega sniffed the air, fragrant with the aroma of coffee brewing.
I sent up a silent thank you to Arlo as I poured my guest a steaming hot drink.
Miles glanced around the living room. “Your place is cute. I wasn’t paying attention yesterday.”
“Thanks.” Cute wasn’t the look I was going for, but I tried to see it through his eyes. My collection of antique postcards lined the walls and the mantlepiece, and many of them reminded me of my childhood.
“Is it always so tidy or is this for my benefit?”
Wow! For someone who came across as shy when I met him, this omega was quite blunt.
“I rearranged the cushions, but yes, it’s this way most of the time.” As I tucked into my strawberry crepe and Miles stabbed at a peaches and cream one, my eyes followed the fork from the plate to his lips. Goosebumps spiked over my arms, and I was thankful I was wearing a sweater. And that he wasn’t a mind reader.
A blob of cream sat in the corner of his mouth and I longed to wipe it off. But as I lowered my gaze, I caught a glimpse of my grandfather, in an old photo over the fireplace, poking his tongue at me. Please don’t dance around the room naked, grandpa.
“I’ve been thinking, Charlie.”
“Uh huh.” I concentrated on the food, not wanting to observe the dollop of cream on the omega’s lips and hoping grandpa wasn’t about to moon us.
“About your troubles.” Miles leaned toward me, but I refused to glance up.
“Okay.” I tensed, waiting for the old man to start serenading.
“Maybe you’ve been dealing with it the wrong way?”
“Sorry?” Grandpa was wriggling his ass, and I wanted to close my eyes and disappear.
“You cringe and apologize when something unexpected happens. Instead, why don’t you celebrate your uniqueness.”
I was special, but it wasn’t anything to emphasize. I paused, fork frozen in mid-air, considering my words. “I appreciate your help, Miles but you don’t understand.”
“Because I don’t have magical powers?” He pointed to grandpa’s photo. “Something’s going on with him.”
He was more observant than I’d assumed. “You picked up on that?”
“You gave it away, Charlie. You tensed and went cross-eyed.” The omega swallowed a mouthful of crepe, and I was mesmerized. “As I was saying, why not embrace your interesting ability.”
I snorted. “Miles…”
“If you think about it, you’ve done something different each day since December 1.” He counted on his fingers. “The first day you went to the supermarket.”
“And look what happened.”
“You broke eggs. Not exactly a national emergency. And yesterday you had fun at Rosemary’s party. And today, I’m here and in one piece.”
“For now,” I sighed.
“How about we go to the Christmas market tomorrow evening after I’m done with work?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There’ll be so many people milling about with kids, and there are stalls, food and decorations.�
��
Miles asked, “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“The market burns down and people end up in hospital.” I was no longer enjoying our conversation.
“Can’t one of your wizard friends click their fingers and sort it out?”
“Only after it happens—like with the eggs. And I don’t need a nanny, Miles.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He placed a hand over mine.
I was tempted to pull away, but also didn’t want to move. It was one person comforting another. Don’t read too much into it, Charlie.
“Friends help one another without expecting anything in return.” He sat back and I regretted the loss of contact.
“Maybe,” I replied.
“I have a question. Is your ability to do magic completely taken away during these 24 days?”
I took a deep breath. It was nerve wracking discussing my little problem. “I can’t fix my mistakes, but yes I still have powers. I tend not to use them because if I do, I’m worried I’ll mess up.”
“Charlie, maybe this is a rude question, but how old are you? And are you immortal?”
“I’m not immortal. Hugo is. But not Poppy, even though she’s Hugo’s successor.”
“Baby Poppy is a spell checker?” His mouth gaped. “And Arlo?”
“Based on the ancient text Hugo found, the omega will live for hundreds of years, as will their daughter.”
Miles put a hand over his eyes. “There’s so much to learn.”
“But to answer your question, give or take a few years, I’m close to a hundred and fifty.”
The omega rubbed his chin. “That’s impressive. You must tell me which moisturizer you use.”
My mind went blank. “I don’t use any.”
“Ignore me. I’m being silly.” He patted my shoulder. “Do you want to meet at the Christmas Market or should I pick you up here?”
Again. I didn’t need a babysitter. Except I did, in a way. “I’ll see you there.”
“Great.” Miles stepped outside, and the snowman escorted him to the gate. “See you tomorrow,” the omega yelled.
What have I got myself into? But as I tipped lukewarm coffee into the sink, something occurred to me. I hadn’t asked Miles what brought him to Vale Valley. What’s his story?
Four
December Fourth: Miles
I spent my lunch hour researching the history of Vale Valley, magic, witchcraft and what happens when things go wrong.
I peppered Calista with questions but she wasn’t much help. “Other than Charlie, I don’t have any experience with wonky magic.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why are you so interested?”
I shrugged, not wanting to admit to anything when I wasn’t sure myself. “I’m sorry for him and he seems like a good guy.”
“He is. The best.” She leaned closer, and I hoped my thoughts weren’t on display. “Are you two more than friends?”
“Don’t be silly,” I huffed. “We met three days ago.” A significant other was the last thing I was looking for. But what if one came looking for me?
“The coven head, Bedwyr, looked into it. And he’s never been able to solve the mystery. He suspects Charlie himself holds the key.”
I couldn’t imagine the wizard as a little boy.
“If you’d like to find out more, ask him.”
My imagination ran riot. How did I contact a wizard? Did I stand in the forest at midnight and recite an incantation? I shivered.
“His office is down the street.” Calista grabbed a file and hurried out the door, her clacking heels receding along the corridor.
“Thanks,” I yelled. I wasn’t ready to confront yet another wizard about something that was none of my business, and I tucked the information away.
Hoping there weren’t too many mishaps to dent Charlie’s confidence, I headed to the market in the town square. It was a pleasant winter’s evening, and the light dusting of snow from a few days earlier had vanished and stars were twinkling overhead.
I craned my neck upward, imagining Charlie viewing the heavens for over a hundred years. I had so many questions. Did he age like a human and would he be bent over and wrinkled at the end of his life? I gulped, and my eyes filled with tears at the thought of him dying. Don’t be ridiculous, Miles. You’ll be long dead before he leaves this world.
As I huddled in a doorway and stamped my feet to ward off the cold, I blew on my fingers. I’d left the gloves on my desk and hoped I could buy another pair at the market. While jumping up and down trying to keep warm, I examined my motives for insisting he confront the situation rather than hiding away.
“You know why,” the voice in my head answered. “So you don’t think about your past.”
“Oh shush, you.”
I hurried toward the central gazebo and stood on tiptoes searching for the wizard. He was taller than most people, and I was sure I’d pick him out in the crowd.
The mood at the market was lighthearted, despite the cold, with Valley residents munching on chocolate-coated marshmallows and roasted chestnuts. Each wooden stall was outlined with multi-colored Christmas lights, and I examined gorgeous hand-made Christmas ornaments at the first one I passed. I made a mental note to buy some later.
Ren, the reindeer shifter who owned Sweet Bites, was selling his mouth-watering crepes. He was shepherding kids toward the back where Arlo was supervising them as they decorated cookies. And a group—of what I assumed were the kids’ parents—sipped mulled wine at the stall next door.
“Hi, Miles.”
“Arlo.” The omega was wearing a Santa hat and had a big grin on his face. I’d forgotten he worked at Sweet Bites part-time. “Have you seen…?” But my question was cut off when there was a squeal behind me and a gingerbread man raced along the path between stalls.
“You can’t catch me,” he chortled as a small child tried to grab his hand.
“Yes, I can,” a little girl shouted and took off after him. But Ren scooped her up and handed her over to her anxious omega mother, trailing behind. One crisis averted.
The carousel slowed and stopped. It started moving, but in the opposite direction. The pink and white horses cantered off shouting, “We’re carousel animals, and can’t abide being part of a merry-go-round. We’re off to see the world.”
One snatched a cookie from Arlo’s hand. “Hey! Say please and thank you,” the omega snapped. The horses whinnied and galloped away.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Charlie raced up and apologized to the alpha carousel owner.
“Don’t worry,” the man shrugged. “They’ll be back once it goes the other way. They’re creatures of habit and carousel snobs.” And sure enough, the ride creaked to a halt, and restarted in the opposite direction. The horses charged past us, followed by a horde of kids with gooey hands, and took their proper places.
I tucked my arm into Charlie’s without thinking. It was the most natural thing to do when it was cold and the atmosphere festive. I whispered, “That worked out well.”
“Not if you’re a gingerbread man?”
“Mmmm. Any idea where it is?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“Nope. Gingerbread men come to sticky ends in children’s stories.”
Oh no. “I hope not. Let’s find him.” We followed the cookie’s footsteps until we reached a store selling gingerbread houses. A large one on the back wall had a note that read, ‘Not for sale.’
“If you’re looking for Samuel, he’s home.” The shifter manning the stall jerked his head at the house that reminded me of Charlie’s.
“I’m so glad.”
The rest of the evening went smoothly. After wandering around, we were both starving, and instead of nibbling typical Valley food, Charlie convinced me to try potato pancakes and spicy sausages.
“My family used to eat these when I was a child,” he told me. “And our home was surrounded by huge snowy forests, and we’d take a horse-drawn sleigh and cut down a tree each year.”
I was stru
ck by how many people asked the wizard if they could do anything for him over the next couple of weeks. Many were surprised he was in public, mingling with people, as he normally hid away.
“Charlie, were your parents a witch and a wizard?”
“No. I was born a wizard, though I didn’t have all of my powers or understand how to use them.”
“I see.” I didn’t, and while I longed for more details, I gave the questioning a rest. As we sat drinking hot chocolate, kept warm by space heaters, a strange sensation came over me. It was something I hadn’t experienced in a long time, and I didn’t recognize it. I think it’s contentment.
My past was always ready to sink its teeth into my happiness. It was one of the reasons I shied away from friendship. Even though being in the Valley made some memories hazy, I continued to have trust issues.
But Charlie was different. He was a kindred spirit. I recognized something in him that was familiar. A feeling of not belonging. Of being lost while surrounded by other people’s joy.
And Christmas was going to be especially hard. I planned on locking myself away and streaming favorite TV shows, emerging when the day was over only to be confronted by New Year silliness less than a week later.
But again, the Valley was a balm, its magic soothing much of the pain and my rough edges.
“My turn to ask you a question, Miles.”
“Shoot.”
He hesitated. “Maybe it’s not such a great idea. You haven’t been here long and it’s really not my place.” His voice petered out.
Damn! Did he read my mind? “Why am I here? Is that your question?”
Charlie gripped his cup of hot chocolate and peered at me over the rim. “If you’d like to share.”
The warmth from my mug seeped into my hands. “I escaped a bad relationship. My mate was a gambling addict and had spent all our savings. The more desperate he became, the more erratic his behavior. Strangers turned up at our front door demanding money.”
“I’m so sorry, Miles. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
Witching You a Merry Christmas Page 2