“Aren’t you the busy little wolf?” Frankie replied without any mirth in her voice.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Kyle said with a light chuckle. “That’s all business, ain’t that right, Mattie?” He said the last louder, over his shoulder. My shoulders shot up around my ears before I could stop them.
“Right,” I said with a weak laugh, keeping my eyes resolutely forward, watching the progression of the lights above the elevator door, willing it to move faster.
“So, how about it?” Kyle pressed, his voice dropping low again.
“If I give this to you and you don’t call me…” Frankie said. The sound of a pen clicked open.
“How could any man be stupid enough not to call you?” Kyle said. The elevator binged as it arrived and the doors opened with a shudder. I hurried inside, turning to face the lobby again, and placed my foot in front of the door to keep it open. Frankie was writing her number on Kyle’s palm, a coy smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. I looked away before she could catch me staring. I didn’t like to think what she would do if she realized I’d seen her like that, you know, nice and sweet.
“You better answer when I call,” Kyle said, blowing on his palm to dry the ink before he turned to join me on the elevator. I was impressed to see that Kyle didn’t strut; he simply walked with the calm confidence that showed in the set of his shoulders and lift of his chin. When he entered the elevator, he turned on a heel to face the doors and leaned a shoulder against the wall, shoving his fingers into the front pockets of his dark washed jeans. He grinned at Frankie once more and winked. I tried to pretend like I wasn’t watching, but I caught Frankie’s eye just as the door slid shut, the yellow flashing bright as her smile was replaced by the more familiar glare. I’d be lucky if she didn’t find some reason to tack on some bullshit fee to next month’s rent now.
“Gah!” I said, unable to help the full body tremor once we were passing the first floor. I tried to shake off the chills Frankie always managed to give me.
“Not a fan?” Kyle asked. When I glanced up at him, I was surprised to see him grinning down at me. In the bright light of the elevator, I saw that there was a hint of green around the black of his pupils, bleeding into the brown I saw the night before. Those eyes, that easy smile, broad shoulders, and confidence… Yeah, I bet he got every phone number he ever asked for.
“You could say that. But the feeling is mutual, I can promise you that.”
“Yeah, I got that,” he said with another chuckle. “She went from hot to cold in a second when she realized I was here to see you.”
“Sorry, hope I didn’t mess up your game or anything.” That earned me a full laugh and a pat on the shoulder. I took half a step forward to catch myself under the power of that simple pat, grimacing at the sting. He shot me an apologetic look.
“No, you didn’t mess up my game,” he teased.
“Shut up,” I said as the rickety elevator came to a stop on my floor. I walked out without another word, knowing he would follow me.
I started fumbling with the keys again, nearly dropping my basket. Kyle’s large hand shot out to catch it and he took it from me, offering to take my bag too, but I waved him off and managed to get the key in the knob to let us in.
Artie was waiting for me at the door, but as soon as he got a whiff of Kyle, he hissed and spit before bolting under the couch. His yellow eyes blinked in the darkness as he growled low in his belly.
“Sorry about that,” Kyle said, but he sounded more amused than apologetic.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a shake of my head, pulling the strap of my bag over my head and tossing it on to a chair. “He’ll get over it when he’s hungry enough.”
“Right,” Kyle agreed, setting the basket of goodies on the kitchen table.
“Have a seat,” I said, waving at the living room, “make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink? Tea, water, a brew?”
“Tea would be nice, thanks,” Kyle said as he walked into the living room. He pinched at his jeans before he sat down on the couch. I could see Artie’s eyes blinking from the dark depths between Kyle’s feet, making me smirk. Now he was good and trapped.
Snatching the basket off the table, I made my way into the kitchen. I needed to store the mushrooms properly before they dried out and ruined the recipe for the chocolates. Wetting a paper towel, I stuffed it into the bottom of a glass jar and then dumped the mushrooms on top, screwing the lid on. I eyed the jar and watched until the tiny, hair-like roots started to twist and reach for the damp paper towel at the bottom. Once a few had latched on, I felt safe enough to tuck the jar into a dark cabinet until I could start spelling.
Setting the kettle on the stove, I found my wand on the window sill, the thin piece of wood still warm from the sun’s rays. I twirled it in my fingers before tapping the stove with the tip, making the burner under the kettle flame to life. Satisfied that it was well and truly charged, I set it back on the sill, not wanting to waste any power with parlor tricks.
I went about readying a tray while I waited for the water to boil. I was rummaging through a cabinet for my stash of cookies when the kettle began to whistle. Picking up my wand again I jabbed at the flames, extinguishing them before I tore into a fresh sleeve of cookies and spilled a few out onto a plate.
I nearly dropped the entire tray when I came around the corner into the living room at the sight on my couch. Kyle was sitting back, his right foot braced on his left knee, creating a well in his lap where Artemis was curled, eyes closed and purring while Kyle stroked his black fur.
“Well I’ll be a hobgoblin’s uncle,” I said as I set the tray down on the coffee table. “How did this happen?”
“I have a way with animals,” Kyle said with a one shoulder shrug.
“But a cat?” I asked, pointing accusingly at my familiar.
“Oh yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “even cats.”
“Well,” I said as I picked up the sugar bowl, “that’s good enough for me. Sugar?”
“Just cream,” Kyle said with a shake of his head. I added two pink sugar cubes to my cup. “What is good enough for you?”
“Oh, that Artie trusts you,” I said as I added cream to both our cups, stirring Kyle’s before I handed it to him.
“Does that mean you trust me then?”
“If he does, then yes,” I said, picking up my cup before settling into the plush armchair, sinking into the cushions.
“And if he didn’t trust me?”
I shrugged before taking an experimental sip of my tea. It was still a little hot, but not unbearable. “I’d take your money, but I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you and I doubt that would be very far.”
“Well thank you, kind sir,” Kyle said, scratching Artemis between his ears.
“Prrrrrrooow,” Artie replied, kneading the top of Kyle’s leg, his claws making tiny popping noises as he scratched Kyle’s jeans.
“You’ll never be rid of him now,” I said over the edge of my cup. “He can spot a sucker from a mile away.” Kyle laughed at that before taking a sip of his tea. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the flavor and the heat. I hadn’t worried about it being too hot for him since Were body temperatures ran so high they hardly ever wore coats even in the dead of winter.
“So,” I said, leaning forward to set my cup on the table and grab one of the cookies. “What can I do for you?”
“Right down to business, huh?” Kyle grinned again, leaning forward to help himself to a cookie as well, making Artie growl in protest as he was smushed for a moment before Kyle sat back again.
“I hate to rush you,” I said, biting into the sugary treat, “but yeah, I have other appointments tonight.”
“Of course,” he nodded. “Well, you see, I get these headaches.”
“Headaches?”
“Yeah, like the most intense migraine you could imagine.”
“And you want me to brew something for you.”
“I do.” Kyle nodded. He popped the entire cookie in his mouth, not losing so much as one tiny crumb as he ate the whole thing. “See, I’ve tried human meds, but they don’t work on me.”
“Your metabolism is too fast,” I said, taking another bite of my own cookie, a burst of crumbs flying to land on my chest and lap. I brushed them away quickly, avoiding Kyle’s eye.
“That’s why? Huh.” Kyle considered my words with a nod. “Also tried pain amulets, but the best they do is take the edge off.”
“Skin’s too thick,” I said, reaching for my cup.
“How’s that?” Kyle asked.
“Weres, trolls, giants,” I said, “you all have very thick skin, so most spells can’t penetrate you, so a pain amulet, which works through ambient magic, really won’t be able to affect you.”
“Well damn,” Kyle said with a shake of his head. “Been wasting my money then.”
“Or someone’s been stealing it from you.”
“How do you mean?”
“You’ve been getting pain amulets from a witch, right? Or a warlock?”
“Warlock,” Kyle said, and for the first time, I heard a change in his voice. It was a dangerous tone I didn’t ever want to hear directed at me. He was starting to understand me even before I spelled it out for him.
“Yeah, a warlock, even a hedge witch, knows that amulets aren’t really gonna help a Were,” I explained. “He did know you were a Were, right?”
“He did,” Kyle nodded.
“I’d say he was stealing from you then.”
“Well ain’t that a thorn in the paw on a midnight run,” Kyle said, and I had to fight not to choke on my tea when I laughed. It was just a little too homespun a phrase for someone like Kyle to say.
“At least you found me,” I said trying to soothe his pride. “I can make you something for those headaches.”
“Wonderful,” Kyle said, and just like that, his voice shifted back to that soothing rich tone and put you at ease while Artie continued to purr in his lap.
“You know, I gotta say, you’re so nice for a Were, I’m surprised to know you’re also dealing with chronic migraines,” I said, making Kyle laugh. The booming noise filled the apartment and startled Artemis, making him grumble in his dozing state.
“Nice for a Were, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said with a wink. “Well to be honest with you the headaches only come on the week of the full moon.”
“Really? Around the Change?”
“That’s right.”
“How strange,” I said. “Just curious, but were you born or bitten?”
“Bitten,” Kyle said, his voice dropping on that one word. “I was young though, probably too young.”
“How young?” I asked, finding that I was speaking in a whisper suddenly.
“Twelve.” He leveled those deep eyes on me, and that one word struck me in the middle of my chest. So young I was amazed he’d lived through the attack. I started to open my mouth to say something, anything, but he held up his hand and forestalled me.
“It is a sad and sorry story, but let’s not go down that road tonight, and please keep your condolences. I have made my peace with it. I mean, it was nearly twenty five years ago.” And just like that I was struck again, realizing he’d just told me he was somewhere around thirty seven years old; I had assumed he was about my age.
“Well,” I said, clearing my throat. “It’ll take a few hours, so you can always come back later and pick it up.”
I pushed up to my feet, setting my half-empty cup on the tray again. Kyle shifted to the edge of the couch, setting his empty cup beside mine before he lifted Artie out of his lap. He laid the protesting feline on the cushion beside him and stood. He held his hand out to me, his dark hand swallowing mine when we shook.
“Thank you, Mattie,” he said with that easy smile. “How much do I owe you?”
“Well it’s not going to be a one shot deal,” I said, taking my hand back. “The first brewing is fifty and the refills will be twenty, but each bottle will get you through the week of the full moon.”
“Is that all?” Kyle blinked at me, stopping short of letting his mouth hang open in surprise.
“I have a feeling that warlock might owe you a pretty penny or two.” I patted Kyle on the arm as I led him to the door
“Or two,” Kyle agreed. I opened the door for him and he stepped out into the hall. “Thanks again, Mattie.”
“Of course,” I said, holding onto the edge of the door. “I should have it ready for you around two. Is that okay?”
Kyle checked his watch and nodded before saying, “I’ll see you then.”
“Great. Oh and, Kyle,” I said, stopping him before he got too far down the hall. “You be sure to let Frankie know this was all just business, okay? And maybe let her know it would be unfortunate for you if your new pharmacist had any unfortunate accidents, okay?”
“Will do,” Kyle said with a chuckle. He lifted a hand in goodbye and I closed the door, throwing all the locks into place, setting the freezing spell with a touch of my finger.
“Mrrrow,” Artemis said from the couch, pausing in his efforts to clean his rear paw.
“What? I couldn’t in good conscience charge him more,” I said, walking over to pick up the tray and take it back into the kitchen. Artie followed me, mrrowing at me the whole way. “It’s not a complicated spell, okay? I can’t charge him as if it is. That’s bad business. Now shoo!” I waved a foot at his smushed face and he scurried out of the kitchen, leaving me to start on the migraine potion and the Euphoric Chocolates.
“Now watch yourself, Mattie,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t want to mix the two up.”
***
Hours later, the tips of my hair were cold with wet as they bounced against the back of my neck, sending a chill down my back in spite of the oversized sweatshirt I wore. I loved this sweatshirt. It was big enough to hang past my butt and I had to scrunch the sleeves up to keep my hands free, but the inside was soft as down and it kept me very warm. It was grey with maroon lettering across the front that touted the name of the college I had dropped out of. I would’ve finished, gotten a degree in Potion Studies and Charms, but money became too tight and I needed to eat more than I needed to buy more text books.
If my parents had been alive, I would’ve had help with expenses or at least a free place to live, but they had died two years before I’d even started my freshman year.
I closed my eyes against those dark thoughts. It had been almost six years since they died and I’d finally come to the point where I could think about them without the debilitating, heart-stopping pain. Now it was just a dull ache that I could live with. Hell, I could even look at our pictures again, some of them at least. But I didn’t like to think about dropping out of school. My mom would have killed me if she knew I dropped out, and truth be told, I was kind of disappointed in myself as well. My mom had been an exceptional witch; she had double majored in Potion Studies and Talismanic Magic and had gone on to get a Masters in Earth Magic. She’d left a huge pair of shoes to fill, and after her death, I just couldn’t do it. If it hadn’t been for Ronnie and her parents, helping me in those first two years, I might’ve ended up homeless and crazy.
Ronnie’s mom was even more skilled at brewing potions than I was, and it was due in large part to her calming tea that I kept my sanity during that rough patch. I couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat, and even forgot about Artemis if he wasn’t right in my face demanding my attention. Thanks to her tea, I finally started sleeping again. It took six months for me to get through that and remember how to take care of myself and Artemis.
“Prrrow,” Artemis said, twining around my ankles, as if summoned by my thoughts of him. I bent down and scooped him up on my way into the kitchen, clutching him to my chest like a stuffed doll. He arched and squirmed, rubbing his head under my chin, kneading my sweatshirt with his claws. It was good to have another living creature
around when my thoughts slipped down that dark path, and a witch couldn’t have a better familiar than Artie. I was so lucky I found him in that alleyway so many years ago.
“I think someone deserves a little treat, don’t you?” I cooed as I set Artie on the counter, a wash of old guilt and affection arcing through me. Ronnie never understood how I could let him wander around on the surfaces and tabletops, telling me it was unsanitary. But Artie’s magic helped mine, so I figured he could walk wherever he wanted.
“Mmmrrrr,” Artemis purred, agreeing with me. I went to the fridge and pulled out a Tupperware bowl full of chicken salad. Artie started meowing loudly, almost yowling, as he circled the counter, more excited than I thought he would be. After dismissing the idea of spooning out a portion for him, I just set the whole bowl in front of him. Artie pounced on it, nearly knocking the bowl off the counter in his excitement.
“Easy.” He brought his head up, tiny bits of flaked chicken caught on his chin. I eyed him for a moment before he lowered his face to the bowl again, carefully this time and without shoving the bowl as he ate.
I picked up my discarded towel that I’d draped across a kitchen chair and scrubbed at my hair, trying to wring out some of the excess water. The hot shower had gone a long way to relaxing my shoulders and back, but the chill of wet hair was starting to get to me. I knew it was just the approaching holidays that were sending me down this melancholy path. My mom loved the holidays. Samhain and Solstice were the big ones for us.
We lived in a neighborhood that was just on the border between a purely supernatural community and purely human, so we got to mix and match our celebrations. Samhain was filled with trick-or-treaters and bonfires with a harvest feast. But we always did jack-o-lanterns; I think those were my favorite part and one of the few things that humans did that we did as well, even if they forgot why they were important. Of course, my neighborhood was much more careful to keep the candles in the pumpkins burning until sunrise, whereas humans just let them sputter out whenever. I still don’t know how they expected the jack-o-lanterns to do their jobs if they weren’t tended to. With all this Roane-Theo-Owen crap, I hadn’t managed to get to the pumpkin patch yet, and at this rate, I wasn’t sure I was going to.
Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel Page 17