“It was a…faery tree,” I said.
“A faery tree?”
“Like, it had a faery guardian.”
“Chosen One,” Harris said. “You can’t deny that anymore.” He sounded more sarcastic than complimentary and I felt triumphant. He was playing right into my hands, I thought, before noting that I didn’t actually know what the game was.
I waved my magical tree stick (I couldn’t really call it a wand yet) at him. “Jealous much?”
Master Blair walked over to us with a fierce glint in his eyes, like we shouldn’t be talking about this. “Go get some sleep, Miss Byrne.”
The next day in Stuart’s class, which luckily was the last of the day this time, we started working on honing our wands.
“It looks like a branch,” he said. “Right now. However, I want you to consider what a wand symbolizes. It has grown from a tree that came up from a seedling, a tree that has surely been standing in the same spot since before you were born. In some cases, before anyone living was born. What would it be like to live your entire life in one spot while everything moves around you?”
“Sounds good to me,” muttered Benton, who seemed eternally unmotivated.
Stuart ignored him, like every long-suffering old teacher at Merlin College did about everything.
“What attributes would you achieve if you were a tree?” Stuart pressed.
Harris lifted a hand. “You would be intimately in tune with that place,” he said.
“Focus,” said Irving. “No distractions.”
“Good, good,” Stuart said. “You’re right, boys. Your wand is like a beacon of focus. The more attention you give it, the more it rewards you with power. So when you’re whittling your wands, clear your mind. Consider the years of the tree’s life. The seasons changing around it. The connection of all living things to one another. If your brain gets distracted, find a phrase or a poem that you would like to symbolize your magic, and repeat it to yourself as you work.”
I know what you’re thinking. This sounded like a pretty boring class.
Yes. That was absolutely true. We couldn’t talk. We were allowed to go wherever we liked on campus and spent two hours carving the bark off our branches with knives.
On the other hand, it was kind of badass that they just handed us knives. But my hands got tired very quickly and I might have taken a nap. Also, my stick was ten times bigger than anyone else’s. Harris’ already was starting to look like a wand and mine looked like a mangled branch. I was there hugging it between my thighs, hacking at the blue bark, when Montague came up to me.
“Is that a wand you’re carving, or are you just happy to see me?”
I brandished my knife at him. “No. No more of that!”
“Don’t worry. We’re going to run out of innuendos soon.” He came over and brushed his fingers across my shoulder. “Work day’s over. Time to get ready for our date.”
“Oh, man. My arms are like jelly.”
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” he said, his low voice leaning closer to my ear. “Let me take care of everything. I don’t mind if you’re completely helpless to resist. Do you?”
I pursed my lips. An unconvincing protest hovered there before I sheathed the knife and stood up. “I need a long bath first.”
“Meet me in two hours outside Camelot Hall, then,” he said, naming the elegant old building that held all the campus hangouts under one roof. He kissed my forehead. “I’ll make plenty of hot tea.”
I knew what that meant. Kissing. Lots of kissing.
And maybe more than kissing. I mean, why put it off? I didn’t want to put it off.
I just never imagined myself having more than one boyfriend at a time. I still wished I knew more about how my grandmother handled such a thing. I had so many questions. Did she alternate between days? Did they all like, do it at once?
The very thought gave me an image that inflamed every nerve in my body, especially when my brain inserted Harris into the picture. What would he even do? You’re not a porn star.
“Charlotte?” Harris’ voice suddenly came through the open door of my room.
I jumped. The room I shared with Alec was the attic, and we had it to ourselves. I thought I was alone. “Oh my god.”
“Daisy is on the phone. She asked if she could talk to you. She wanted to know if the Versace fit,” he said in this vaguely snotty tone. I don’t think that was on purpose, however. It was impossible to say something like ‘she wanted to know how the Versace fit’ with an upper-crust accent without sounding snotty.
I was actually holding the Versace jumpsuit in one hand and my mom’s Betsey Johnson dress in the other, trying to decide which was better. Montague had seen them both before. My options were way too limited.
“Are you busy?” he asked. “Hot date tonight? I wouldn’t ignore Daisy for too long. She’s still on the line.”
He didn’t sound like a guy who had just been talking to his beloved fiancee. But then, no one could sound indifferent and bored like Harris. I had no idea what actually moved him, which was probably why I couldn’t stop thinking about finding out.
“Sure, I’ll talk to her for a sec,” I said.
Confession: My motives might not have been entirely pure. Deep down, I thought, These two cannot get married just because their families say so. I’ll get to know Daisy and get real with her about him.
“Hey, Daisy.”
“Hey, lady, what are you up to tonight? Harris said you’re going on a date with el vampiro. You know he’s gonna drink your blood, right?”
No, I’m supposed to get real with you! I thought. “Montague is a gentleman,” I said. “It’s not like I haven’t been alone with him before.”
“I would not be your friend if I didn’t warn you,” she said. “But maybe you’re into that. I don’t judge. How great did that Versace look on you?”
“Pretty great,” I admitted. Damnit. A part of me felt like I should hate Daisy because things could get tricky with Harris later, but she made me feel like I had a cool friend. No one at my high school had this air Daisy had, like she could own her own reality show and lifestyle brand.
“Yes! I knew it would. I told you. Did you take pictures?”
“I can take one tonight.”
“On your vampire date,” Daisy said approvingly. “I don’t want to make you feel like a charity case or anything, but if I see something else that will look good on you, I’m buying it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I’m bored,” she said.
Must be nice, I thought, as she sighed a little. “You don’t have poor friends in Chicago?” I asked.
“You aren’t my poor friend, you’re my normal human type friend,” she said. “I mean, I know you’re probably getting witchier or warlockier by the moment, but to me you’re glamorous.” Which was exactly what Firian said, so point for him I guess. “Anyway—you know—I’ve been thinking about our connection to him.”
“The Withered Lord?”
“Yeah.” Suddenly her words were like a bitter wind. “You seem tough, though.”
“I do? I mean—well, I’m not. But I never did know my mom, that’s all. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss her, or the idea of her.”
“I was five and it’s like my first memory,” she said, and then she took a quick breath. “Whatever, girl, I just want to buy you some clothes.”
“Hey, if you don’t have many people to talk to, it’s okay,” I said. “I don’t either, so I just never talk about it. My dad told me my mom just left. He never told me she was a witch. I thought she was a free spirit type or maybe a drug addict.”
“What about about your familiar?”
“I didn’t know him. Like, he hid from me.”
Daisy was quiet for a moment. “That’s like…criminal.”
I bristled. “My dad was trying to protect me.”
“Sorry. I just don’t know what I would have done without a familiar. Plus, now he is so hot.
Are you getting in trouble with him or what? The council freaks out about that. But you have Monty to distract you, huh?”
“Yes,” I said, blushing again. “Speaking of which, I better go. I still need to get ready.”
“Okay, you get smoking hot ‘cause that vampire dick is cold.”
“I’ll warm that shit up,” I said, laughing.
“You should call me and tell me how it went.”
When I hung up I thought, we might really be becoming friends? I hope she thinks I’m cool. I was not great at ‘friends’ in high school but then, she had a point when she said we shared a connection. Maybe my mom’s absence made me put up some walls. I didn’t like people to get close enough to ask questions I struggled to answer.
I didn’t say anything about Harris, though…
Oh well. I had a date to think about.
I took a bath, dried my hair, put on a dab of makeup and a dab of glamour, and slipped into the jumpsuit, then went down to Camelot Hall. Some guys were walking in with their roller skates and others were probably going to bowl. With no girls and limited technology, and the extreme isolation of the campus, there just wasn’t much to do. I hurried along, feeling a little naked all dressed up. I didn’t feel like such a girl when I was wearing the uniform.
A guy whistled behind me. “Left your fox at home?”
“The witches in Florida scared him off,” said the other guy he was with. I think they were freshmen.
“What do you know, newbs? No one scared him off. I just don’t need him as much.” It was true, though. I had gotten a little shaken by those witches, and Firian rarely came to class anymore. I missed him but we both had an unspoken understanding that we needed to be careful.
“Excuse me.” Montague suddenly came out of the doors of Camelot Hall. He must have been waiting just inside and keeping an eye out for me. “Are you hassling my Charlotte?” He put an arm around me.
It was almost worth it to get hassled, just for the sexiness of being rescued. “It’s okay, Montague,” I said. “We’ve got places to be, right?”
“Yes. We do.”
His grip firmed up around my waist and he started leading me back to the grand entrance of Camelot Hall, with all of its Gilded Age pomp, surrounded as it was by gardens and statues. I heard the guys murmuring and chuckling to each other in a way I found vaguely ominous, but I ignored them with a mere sigh. I thought we were past this, but I guess it was wishful thinking that everyone would be cool with a girl at Merlin College after one year. I didn’t want to know what parents were telling their precious privileged sons about me as they sent them off to school.
“You are one saucy señorita,” Montague said, giving me this little private smile that slayed me right off the bat.
“I hope we’re not bowling in the next lane from them,” I said.
“Oh, we are not bowling or skating. I told you I have a very good evening planned. I made arrangements.”
“Ooh.”
Inside Camelot Hall was shaped like a shopping mall in that it had a promenade in the middle and all the entertainment through sets of double doors to the sides. Montague walked me right past all the noise and chaos of guys hanging out in the doorways, the crash of bowling balls and the pounding dance music in the skating rink. He opened the door of the movie theater.
I hadn’t been in the theater. Sometimes there was an official showing of a film, usually something black and white selected by the old professors. I actually might not mind seeing those but no one else did, so I hadn’t either. Then there were showings by the film club once a month, but the film club guys seemed super pretentious; they wore fedoras and they were always talking about Donnie Darko and Inception.
Today, the heavy velvet curtains were pulled back and the red seats were all empty while ornate gold lights glowed along the walls and paintings of astrological figures covered the ceiling. Montague showed me to some prime seats in the middle and there waiting for me was a bag of popcorn, some peanut butter M&Ms, a foil wrapped thing that looked like a sub, and my favorite soda—the oh-so-southern Cheerwine, all of which definitely showed me that he listened to my idle conversation.
“The food isn’t that fancy,” he said.
“I miss food that isn’t fancy.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I feel bad to eat all of this stuff when you can’t eat anymore.”
“That’s why I didn’t take you to dinner,” he said.
“So we’re all alone in here?”
He waved a hand toward the doors. “Shut the doors and lock them tight, let no one open them all of the night.” The door faintly glowed blue. Then he slid into the chair next to me. “How’s that?”
“What about the emergency exits?”
“We can’t seal those shut. It’s against code,” he said, with a wry grin. “No one comes in here anyway.” His arm was behind me on the seat, and I leaned closer to him almost unconsciously. His forehead nudged mine and then he tipped my mouth up and plucked my lip with his teeth. Like he wanted to bite me. But I trusted him. When I responded with a small kiss in return, he slid down the straps of my outfit and started exploring the line of my spine and shoulder blades.
“You wore this thing,” he said. “You know I’ll have to take it all off before I can do anything. It would have been a lot easier if you’d worn a skirt…”
“I like to make things difficult,” I said, although when I realized he intended to strip me naked in the movie theater I started feeling very flustered. “What are we watching?”
He held up a DVD case. “The Princess Bride.”
“Oh, yay! I was so afraid you were going to make me watch something bad. I’m very particular.”
“I’m going to make you watch something good…and do something bad.” He kissed me again and I dragged my hands across his short beard. I loved how damn manly that felt and I’m sure he put off shaving just for me. “Wait here. I have to get the DVD going back there manually…”
I watched him stride up the aisle, still somewhat in disbelief that I was actually going to do this again with a second guy. I wondered where the deed was going to happen. There was no bed in here, obviously, and the theater chairs were jammed tight together with arms that would poke my back. Not the floor, hopefully.
Wall? Oh, yeah, he’s strong enough to hold me against the wall.
I chewed on my lip, the straps of my outfit still dangling over my shoulders, threatening to expose a boob, while a wave of wet heat bloomed out of me at the very thought of being banged against a wall. It was a fantasy I didn’t know I had until I considered it.
A DVD menu appeared on the screen suddenly, and the movie started up as he dashed back down to me.
Montague definitely looked like more of a man than a boy, and I got the idea that becoming a vampire had changed him. However suave he could be at times, he retained some boyishness too. He couldn’t hide his own excitement about the date. If I was on a date with Harris I just know he would have strolled back to his seat like he was bored, not leapt to my side like Montague did. I also guessed that Harris’ room never had posters or car models.
I liked that. Deep down we were both just a couple of overenthusiastic dorks. It was just that my overenthusiastic dork was also a very, very sexy and very strong vampire.
“I know you were thinking about something naughty while I was gone,” he purred into my ear as the MGM lion roared.
“Maybe,” I whispered, both embarrassed and aroused as I wondered if he could smell me. He probably could. There was no hiding anything from these guys.
His hand went around my shoulder and started slipping down as he nipped my earlobe, and I said, “I hope you actually watch this movie because it’s good.”
“I will.”
“How about we play a game?” I said. “Sort of like a drinking game, to reward you for paying attention.”
“I’m listening.”
“Whenever you hear ‘As you wish’, you can kiss me. A
nd whenever you hear ‘Inconceivable’, you can touch a boob. And ‘My name is Inigo Montoya’, you can touch me wherever you want…”
“I like this game.” He paused. “But how many times are they going to repeat the same lines?”
“Oh, Princess Bride has all the catch phrases we could ever want.”
I had never actually tracked how many times those phrases were said in the movie. I can now say it is pretty often, but not often enough.
We got some good making out there in the beginning because ‘as you wish’ got said a lot all at once.
But I quickly realized I had made somewhat of a mistake in that I was full of pulsing, quivering sexual excitement waiting for Wallace Shawn to appear and say ‘Inconceivable’ so Montague would touch my boob, and that was not the best thing to do to your brain, trust me.
I have ruined this movie forever, I thought, as Montague peeled my straps down until I was topless, arms pinned at my sides, and wrapped his hand around my breast while kissing my throat.
“I didn’t say you could kiss me while you…mm…touched me…”
“You aren’t going to stop me… I know that much.”
And every time Inigo Montoya announced himself, I was getting slowly worked into jelly. Montague pressed me into the next arm rest as he slid a hand down the front of my jumpsuit and his middle finger slipped between my folds and stroked up and down as he helped me free my arms from the straps just so he could lift them over my head and kiss me again.
Then he snapped back to his own seat and started watching again, leaving me half-naked, disheveled, and feeling used. And oh-so-hungry for more.
But then we went through some long stretches without any catch phrases and for once I was having some trouble concentrating, sucking down soda fervently while Montague laughed at some of the jokes. I could tell he was torturing me on purpose.
Damnit, I loved it. Why? And how did he learn such sophisticated seduction techniques?
I wondered, sometimes, whether I was dealing with the nineteen-year-old warlock…or a vampire with memories that stretched back five hundred years.
I should probably feel sorry that he was a vampire in the first place, but a part of me didn’t. I wasn’t so sure he was sorry either, despite the problematic elements.
A Witch Among Warlocks: The Complete Series Box Set Page 36