The Spell of Three

by Casey Morgan

  “What did you think of our new guest?” asked Ryan. “She’s a real looker, that one.”

  “Aye,” I agreed, working a spell to bring down all the thimble-sized cups that the sprites had left up in the rafters. “She was booked with her wannabe husband for a honeymoon. What’s up with that?”

  “I know! Why would anyone leave such a fine lass at the altar?” Ryan slapped his cleaning rag down on the counter. His eyes were heated.

  I shrugged.

  “Maybe they’re just having a tiff, ya know? Lover’s quarrel,” I suggested.

  “A tiff bad enough for him to abandon her on a honeymoon by herself?” laughed Ryan. “No, only a fool would do that, and a fool deserves to lose her. That lass is single, and I fancy her.”

  I turned to stare at him.

  “Well, I might make a move on her first, brother,” I said. “I did see her first. All thanks to your laziness getting to the front desk, where you were supposed to be.”

  Ryan frowned at me.

  “If her wedding was canceled, then she’s on the rebound. You should leave her be,” he nagged.

  I glared at him.

  “That’s good advice,” I said warily. “You plan on followin’ that sage wisdom?”

  “No, I don’t.” Ryan gave me a snarky smile. The points of his ears reddened a little. “As I suspect you don’t either, brother.”

  “What are you two lay-abouts doing in here?” asked Aunt Bridget, sticking her head out of the kitchen. “I’ve got six plates out there I’m waiting for.”

  Ryan started stacking the plates to give to her.

  “We’re just talking about the new guest,” I said, palming all the small cups in one hand and carrying them into the kitchen. “What do you think of her, Aunt Bridget?”

  “She’s a cute one, to be sure,” said Aunt Bridget seriously. “But her heart’s just been broke. She doesn’t need you two rascals sniffing around her. Leave her be.”

  “But I’m just the sort of lad that could mend that broken heart,” assured Ryan with a smile.

  “No, I am,” I corrected him.

  “Don’t tell me you both are — Oh! Ye stooks! Ye don’t want a woman on the rebound. Bad luck and leprechauns! And an American witch, no less,” said Aunt Bridget, frowning. “Let the wee gal be!”

  “What’s wrong with a little friendly competition?” I offered. “The girl’s a grown woman. With supernatural powers to boot.”

  Aunty smacked me with a wash rag.

  “She was engaged! Ye know what that’s like? No! Of course you don’t,” she frowned. “That girl’s got a lot of healing to do, after a broken engagement. Do you think you have a magic wand between yer legs? No, ya don’t. It won’t cure her. Think with the big head!”

  Annoyed, I washed the dish soap bubbles off my face.

  “Didn’t you meet Uncle Albert while you were on the rebound?” recalled Ryan, leaning in the kitchen doorway. “I seem to remember you telling me that. You got dumped by a fella in Cork, didn’t ya?”

  “I dumped him,” Aunt Bridget corrected. “At least get the story right. And that was completely different!”

  “How so?” I asked, looking around for a dry dish towel. When I couldn’t find one, I just used a warming spell; moving my fingers in a pattern that produced heat that blew onto my face.

  “Well, first off, my ex and I weren’t about to get married. We’d only been dating six months,” Aunty explained, as she scrubbed the plates. “And second off, all we ever did was fight! We had been dating six months, but we had broken up at least three times and gotten back together just as many times in that short period.”

  “I dated a girl like that once,” recalled Ryan. “Darlene or something, I think was her name. Constantly flying off the handle and breaking up with me. Mostly when we had had a few too many rounds down at the pub and managed to stumble back home without nearly killing each other.”

  “That’s why you should leave this girl alone!” repeated Aunt Bridget. “When I met your Uncle Albert, I just knew. I saw him, and I knew. You two — bah! You’re just a couple a horny goats, aren’t ye?”

  “I think you’re making a very unfair characterization of me,” I said, feigning being hurt. “I find her quite lovely and charming.”

  “Mmm, hmm,” said Aunt Bridget suspiciously. “I’ve got dishes to do. Just stay away from her, you two!”

  Aunt Bridget ran us out of the kitchen and back into the pub. I wandered over to the bar sink and started washing the steins.

  Maybe she was right. I had had more than my fair share of “girlfriends”. Were they really relationships? More flings than anything else, I supposed.

  Ryan had had one girlfriend whom he had wanted to marry, but she wanted to leave the village. Ryan wanted to stay. She ended up leaving without him. Broke my brother’s heart. He wanted to be somebody’s husband now, as soon as possible.

  Not me — I wasn’t about commitment or anything long-term. But I would like to date Shanna for a while.

  What was the worst that could happen? I wasn’t some American business mogul billionaire with an unlimited wallet, but I could show a girl a good time.

  Sure, she was a witch and I was an elf, but what did that matter? We could both use magic. We had more in common than many other people did.

  There were certain to be some cultural differences, but we could work around them. All people, no matter their nationality, were the same, deep down.

  And, not to brag, but all women seemed to be drawn to me: shifters, elves, witches, even sprites, it didn’t matter. They said I was handsome, charming — not to mention well-hung. Why couldn’t this one have some fun with me? At least for a while.

  “Brody? Brody!” said Ryan, snapping me awake. “Your sink’s running over.”

  I shut off the water and unclogged the drain with a flick of my fingers. I guessed I must have drifted away for a moment thinking about Shanna. Ryan huffed around me, waving his fingers in a drying spell to clean the wood floors.

  “What do you think it’s like?” asked Ryan, leaning back against the bar. “Going on a honeymoon all alone?”

  “Probably pretty sad,” I said, whipping down the last glass. “That’s probably one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard, actually.”

  “That’s exactly why she should date me,” said Ryan. “I’m fun and I’m lovable!”

  “Ryan, she’s not the only one on the rebound, is she?” I said seriously, turning to look at him.

  “What?” he asked, blinking his eyes as if he sincerely had no clue what I was talking about.

  “What, what?” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t say that. You know what I mean, brother,” I said. “Julia broke your heart into a million pieces.”

  He turned away from me and started rubbing down the counter again. It didn’t need it; it was already pretty clean.

  “No, she didn’t!”

  “What? Are you kidding me? You were drunk for a week after she left! You woke up on the roof, remember?” I recalled.

  “I’m still not sure how I got up there,” recalled Ryan, his gaze getting distant. “All the windows were locked.”

  “Some kind of flying spell, I suppose. Activated when you were under the influence of too much whiskey to remember how you did it.”

  I rubbed the stubble on my chin.

  “Ryan, seriously, lad — This girl is just visiting,” I warned. “She probably goes home in less than a week. You’ll never see her again. Don’t get your hopes up, is all I’m saying.”

  “You can’t compare this one to Julia,” said Ryan. “Julia was my high school sweetheart. She had her dreams and I had mine. But you.”

  “What about me?” I asked.

  “You’re the older brother,” said Ryan. “I would’ve expected you to have—

  well, I don’t know, someone special in your life by now. At least I had my Julia; who have you had?”

  “I’ve had girlfriends,” I countered. “Some of them were pretty close.�
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  “Is that really true?” asked Ryan, skeptically. “Because I never really thought you were in love with any of them. I mean, you liked them well enough, I suppose. But you were never with anyone for any length of time.”

  It was true. For most of my life, I couldn’t sustain a relationship. I became so bored, so easily. Then it would be a downhill slide after that.

  I remembered that once I broke up with a girl because she suggested I dress up like a leprechaun. I mean, that is pretty insulting to an elf, but she was a shifter and didn’t know.

  And that was the only reason I broke up with her. Because of one request. If I was honest with myself about my past, I had clearly found reasons to run from love instead of embracing it.

  “Look, I’m not like you, Ryan,” I tried to explain. “You put your heart out there and what did it get you? It got you nothing but heartache.”

  “And I’d do it again,” he said, folding his arms and looking serious. “Because without the risk, the rewards aren’t as sweet. You’ve got to open yourself up if you want to have a real relationship, Brody. Make yourself vulnerable.”

  “I don’t know,” I said suspiciously. “I’ve been with some women who would take advantage of that. Remember Iona?”

  Ryan raised an eyebrow at me. “The one who stole your TV? I’m sorry—borrowed your TV indefinitely and then claimed to have lost it once you broke up with her?”

  “Yeah, she was a real piece of work,” I recalled. I reached over for one of the clean glasses and poured myself an ale. “But that’s just what I’m saying. You have to get to know someone really well before you put yourself out there.”

  “I think Iona was an extreme example,” said Ryan, grabbing my ale and taking a sip of it himself. “I mean, she was a full-blown criminal, that one was! Didn’t she try to pick someone’s pocket in the pub?”

  “Aye, she did,” I said, mildly embarrassed and glaring at him. “She tried to play it off as an accident. She was bad news, but my point is the same.”

  Ryan took another sip of ale and looked thoughtful.

  “How do you accidentally pick pocket someone?”

  I shrugged. “Said he rubbed up against her too close and his money fell out of his pocket, straight into her hand.”

  I grabbed another clean glass and poured myself an ale again.

  “Okay then — total piece of work, just like I said. But this Shanna girl,” countered Ryan. “She seems like a sweet lass.”

  “You’ve had two conversations with her!” I pointed out. “She could be a serial killer for all we know! You have to take things slow, is all I’m saying. Get to know a person.”

  “Maybe I just want to do what you do. Jump in the sack with her and roll around a bit,” said Ryan.

  He chugged the rest of his ale and spun the glass on the counter.

  “Is that really what you want to do, lad?” I knew my brother too well to believe him.

  “No,” Ryan admitted sheepishly. “You’re probably right. I should take my time. Get to know her.”

  “Are you really going to do that?” I asked.

  “Yes! It’s sensible advice, isn’t it?” admitted Ryan. “So sensible, you should take it.”

  I took a sip of my ale and went back to washing the glasses. For a while, I thought about all the girls I had been with.

  Was it all one big party with me? Sure, I had fun, but what did those flings mean? When I was an old man, would I look back on them with fond memories? Would I just have more flings under my belt by then, or would I finally have found something more real?

  There were guys my age who were already married with kids. Look at Quinn and his new baby. That part didn’t sound so great. He ran around like a maniac with no sleep and was constantly looking for ways to make more money.

  What is that? Is that life?

  Is it a choice between working your ass off for your family or having fun like a young man should? What kind of choice was that? Couldn’t Quinn have fun once in a while? I mean, sure, he had responsibilities, but he was young, just a few years older than us.

  He and his wife seemed to get along. But lately, he complained. Mostly, he complained about getting no sleep and no sex. The constant demands were getting to him.

  With a girlfriend, you could just mutually decide it wasn’t working out, and break up, but that wasn’t the case when you were married. Marriages were about making relationships work. You were in it for the long haul.

  Maybe Ryan was right. In some ways, he was more experienced at life than I was, even though he was my younger brother.

  Sure, Julia had ended up leaving, but Ryan had made that commitment. He had decided in his own mind that he wanted to marry her and to forsake everyone else.

  I had never made that commitment before. Could I even do it? Would I do it when the time came? Or would I turn away, to keep having these flings?

  All these thoughts went through my head as I finished washing the last of the glasses. Ryan was sweeping the floor of the bar and picking up the dropped napkins. I was also thinking about Shanna.

  I didn’t know anything about her, but I did like her. She was sexy, but it was weird that she had been left at the altar. I couldn’t just assume it was her groom’s fault.

  Maybe she was so unpleasant that she drove him away? Maybe she lied to him and he finally wised up. There could be a thousand reasons why and only one true story.

  And for that matter, would Shanna open herself to either of us? Certainly, if I had just been dumped like that, I would just want to be alone. Although thinking about it, it might not be the best solution. Wallowing in self-pity can get pretty intense, if the situation is bad enough.

  “Good luck tomorrow, brother,” said Ryan, as he put the broom back in the closet. “Whatever happens, don’t be mad when she falls for me.”

  I threw a dish towel at him, which he easily dodged.

  “And whatever happens,” I mocked him, “I’m sure you’ll be very happy for us.”

  We headed for our respective rooms. On our way, we said good night to Aunt Bridget, turned out the lights and locked up the place as best we could. Since we were a bed and breakfast, so we had to keep some lights on and a potential alarm for people who wanted to get in late at night.

  I went to bed that night thinking about my future. What kind of relationship did I really want for myself? Did I just want to stay permanently single? Living the high life? Or did I want something more? And why was this Shanna girl making me question my life so fucking much?

  Chapter 5

  Ryan

  The next morning, the stupid rooster woke me up as usual. I swear, I’d like to strangle that thing, but he belonged to one of the sprite farmers who lived near town.

  However, the lunkhead never corralled his chickens and that damn rooster liked to sit right outside the inn — right outside my window. Sometimes I wondered if Brody put seeds out there, because the stupid thing would never go away.

  Who needs an alarm clock when you have a loud bird that crows at the sun at the crack of dawn? This was definitely never my favorite time of day, but this morning was especially bad, since I stayed up a little later than normal last night. Having to force myself to be a morning person made me cranky.

  I went downstairs to the kitchen and got breakfast rolling. Aunt Bridget liked to sleep in, so breakfast was Brody’s and my responsibility. We switched off days. First, I set the table in the dining area and then in the kitchen I started cracking eggs.

  We were a Bed and Breakfast, right? So, we had to do a big breakfast, always. Sleeping would be a better option than breakfast, I always thought. Then up with a late lunch and then down to the pub!

  I was picking egg shells out of the mass of yokes I was mixing for the eggs when I saw Shanna tiptoeing down the hall. It seemed early for a guest to be up.

  “Shanna?” I asked.

  She jumped practically three feet into the air.

  “Ah!” she squeaked, startled. “Oh, my G
od! I thought I was the only one up.”

  “No,” I said, still disappointed about having to be up this early, myself. “Someone’s got to get this breakfast started and today it’s me.”

  I went back to my bowl. Shanna leaned in the kitchen doorway to talk.

  She looked lovely for this early in the morning. Her tight jeans hugged her hips. Today she had on a gray cable knit sweater. It was a little bulky, but I could still see her full breasts underneath it.

  I was astounded at how beautiful her face was. Her skin was so creamy, and her blue eyes were the color of the sky on a clear day. Her face was framed with her light-red curls. They looked so soft, I wanted to run them through my fingers.

  “I had a job that started at seven in the morning. Had to get up at like, five, just to make it in on time,” she said, clearly empathizing with me. “Couldn’t even get breakfast on some days. Then had to go to bed early. It sucked!”

  “Did you quit, then?” I asked as I whisked the eggs.

  She nodded.

  “Is that why you quit?”

  She just shrugged. There was definitely something going on there.

  I guessed since she was going to get married, who needed a job, right? My ex, Julia, was old fashioned like that. She wasn’t going to work, that was for sure. She wanted to get out of the village and she wanted me to pay her way.

  What was I supposed to do outside of here, though? She forgot about that. I had no experience, no prospects. People just didn’t think these things through sometimes.

  “That stupid rooster woke me,” I complained. “Right near my window he crowed! I’m not the sun, ya stupid bird. Crow somewhere out in the field.”

  “Yeah, you tell him!” Shanna urged, laughing.

  The way her pouty lips tilted up when she laughed was adorable. It made me want to lean in and kiss her. But it was too soon.

  “Let me get some breakfast in ya,” I offered, feeling awkward. “Eggs, sausage and soda biscuits suit ya?”

  “Sounds great!” she beamed, sitting down at the kitchen table where I was working. “Aunt Bridget teach you to cook?”

  I shook my head.