by Ruby Loren
“I’m sure it will all work itself out. These things always do,” her mum said.
January felt like she might as well have been talking to a brick wall. She could warn them that her fight with Dominic wasn’t going to be fair on him - especially now she was starting to figure out how her magic worked and that she was apparently immortal. She could try to convince them that she was doing just fine as pack leader - and was only doing it because of the shifters who wanted to be in a pack and needed her help. But it would be a waste of time to try to convince them of anything. They’d made their minds up about everything a long time ago.
“If I hear of either of you trying to cause trouble within my pack, I will be forced to take action. Do your best to remember that,” she said, feeling like she didn’t even know her parents anymore. “While you’re sticking your noses in, could you tell me who’s important around here? I’m trying to do what I can to make peace without having to resort to a punch up.” Why was she bothering to explain herself?
“You mean you don’t know your own pack?” January’s mum said. Now she chooses to remember I’m pack leader!
“They’ve hardly given me the chance to get to know them. Not very chatty,” January said, dryly, thinking about the apologies for absence she’d received from the wolves the past two full moons.
“Luke knew exactly who…”
“Luke kept everyone under his thumb by misusing magic. Luke was a tyrant!” January pushed her chair back. “I’m trying to do a better job and be fair to everyone, but sometimes I think it’s impossible.”
“We just want to protect you January. Big cats and wolves… they’re out of our league! Let them fight it out.” Her mother actually smiled at her.
January bit the inside of her cheek. “But it shouldn’t be about fighting! It should be about good leadership and resolving differences through communication. Is there anyone here tonight I might have a shot at talking to?” She asked again.
Her parents shut their mouths, tightly.
“I couldn’t help overhearing…”
January turned and found herself face to face with a man in his early forties. He was well-built with a woodsman’s beard that was just starting to show the first few streaks of grey in amongst the black.
“I’m pretty sure everyone in this bar couldn’t help overhearing,” January said and noted all of the twitches of movement when they heard that, too. She hadn’t exactly been keeping her voice down during the argument.
“I’m someone you can talk to, if you like. My name’s Cedric, and I’m a werewolf.” He kept his face straight but January could tell he had a sense of humour. Good, more people around here need to get one, she thought.
“I’m sure you know who I am, although I’ve heard that people around here refer to me by many different names.” She left it unsaid that none of them were friendly. “All I want to do is to ask if there’s anything that can be done to make everyone here happy - without having to go through with this pack leadership challenge. I don’t want the wolves to feel like they’re being crushed. I gave options when I became the leader, but maybe those options weren’t good enough. I would really like another chance to meet with anyone who wants to meet and see if we can find a better solution than a fight. What do you think?”
Cedric’s whole demeanour changed. January realised she’d floored him.
“That sounds reasonable,” he said.
January felt a rush of elation. This might actually work!
Unfortunately, a moment later, the bar door was flung open and something was thrown into the centre of the room. January just had time to use her witch sight to see the bright pink magical trail, before the bomb exploded and invisible knives cut through the air. Thinking of what Tor had said about her magic, January desperately willed them not to hit their targets. There was a sound of clanging metal. Directly in front of she and Cedric, the invisible knives hit an equally invisible wall.
But January hadn’t managed to protect everyone.
One look around the room and she could see several dead and dying werewolves, bleeding out from stab wounds caused by unseen weapons.
“Was this your idea of payback?” Cedric was staring at her with confusion and horror on his face.
January’s eyes widened as she realised how it must look. “This wasn’t me! It’s the bounty hunter who’s trying to kill me. I had no idea they would do something like this. I’m so sorry… they’re going to pay for it, believe me,” she said, hoping that he’d understand. She backed away and then ran for the door, not caring if she ran straight into another trap. All she wanted to do was find the bounty hunter and end this, once and for all.
The snow was falling more heavily when January emerged from the battered bar. A muffled silence had settled over Witchwood. She couldn’t hear the sound of anything apart from cars driving in the distance. She looked down at the snow and saw a fresh set of footprints that must belong to the person who’d thrown the bomb into the bar. January followed them, but she could tell they were already long gone.
The footprints stopped at the edge of some trees and January sighed. The scent and signs of the bounty hunter had completely vanished. It was just like before when Ryan had tried to track them. Something prickled the back of January’s neck and she sensed she was being watched.
“Why won’t you come out and fight me?” She called, knowing they could hear. “Your job is to kill me and here I am. There’s no need to drag anyone else into it.” Here she couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. There had been no need to bomb the bar and kill those wolves. If it had been a tactic designed to make her angry and do something stupid, like run out and confront the hunter, then it had succeeded.
January waited, but nothing happened. The woods were silent, apart from the occasional sound of trees dumping snow onto the ground. The feeling of being watched subsided and January knew that they’d gone.
“Damn it! I’ve just given you the perfect opportunity!” She shouted into the trees. Somewhere in the distance a bird flew up into the dark sky. January was felt lost. When would all of this reach an end? It was starting to drive her insane.
She looked back towards the bar and noticed that cars were pulling up and taking the injured wolves away. She wondered what they’d tell the hospital and what they’d do with their dead. January sighed. As pack leader, she should be there with them taking charge of the situation. But she knew she wouldn’t be welcome. Even less now that they thought she was the one who’d bombed the bar.
Everything she’d come so close to achieving tonight had gone up in smoke.
“January, what exactly did Leah say to you?” Mike looked just as distressed as when January had first broken the news to him that she didn’t think Leah was going to be their drummer anymore. She’d arranged a practice on the off chance that the drummer would turn up, but just as expected, she hadn’t shown. Then it had been down to January to come up with a plausible reason as to why.
“She just said that she didn’t think it was a good idea to stay in a band where there were too many feelings going around,” she said, hating herself for turning this on Mike. It was the best she could come up with. It would also explain why Leah was now inexplicably un-contactable.
“I’d better call up James and ask if he can stand in for the gig this weekend,” Mike said, looking sad.
January watched him go, feeling horribly guilty.
She sighed when Cherri left practice without bothering to say goodbye. Some things would never change.
“That’s it. All of the debts are settled, the website is up, and I’ve created an online event inviting people to opening night. Also, I’ve contacted the local paper to ask if they want to do a feature.” January smiled brightly at Ryan, who placed a latte on the desk.
“I think I’ve got everything set stock-wise. I’ve also sorted out a staffing rota and the pay system. Now all we need are regular customers and for nothing to go wrong. How long do you think it will be before
someone throws a bomb through the door, or a pack of wolves burn the place down?” He sounded tired.
January shrugged and half-smiled. “I know we’re up against it, but we’ve still got to try. I’ve had an idea, actually…”
Ryan instantly looked unhappy. She tried to ignore his lack of faith.
“What’s to stop us from serving food here? We’ve got the licence for it and I like cooking. We could do coffee and cakes, too!” She tried not to think about what Charlie would say if she knew January was suggesting setting up the bar as competition for Madame Rose’s Tearooms. It would never really be the same kind of place.
“But this is a bar,” Ryan said, flatly.
January nodded. “Yes, of course! But haven’t you noticed that no one comes in here during the daytime?” She pointedly looked in the direction of the main room, where not a soul stirred. “We could change that and employ staff during the day, which would mean more money for everyone. What could go wrong?”
“Lots of things,” Ryan said, folding his arms.
“Well, you could at least let me try!”
“Oh, go ahead. You’re the boss. You don’t need me to tell you what to do,” Ryan said and turned to walk out of the office.
January opened her mouth to call him back but couldn’t think of anything to say. She looked down at the latte and held the cup to warm her hands.
She missed Ryan.
She missed him being around the house and she missed sharing her bed with him. She also hated that he was no longer on her side. He’d become a casual observer. She didn’t even know why she’d told him about what had happened at the werewolf bar. It was just habit, she supposed.
She sipped the latte and felt more alone than ever. Think of the bar and making food happen, she thought and dedicated the next hour to coming up with a menu. At least this was doing something that would have an impact. People are going to like this place, she told herself, determined to make it true.
Ryan would soon see she how much she cared about his precious bar. Perhaps, over time, they might even be able to work everything else out. She squashed that thought straight back down. The sensible thing to do would be to forget about Ryan, but it wasn’t going to happen.
The truth was, she wanted Ryan back. She just had no idea how to tell him.
January woke up drenched with cold sweat. In her dreams, she’d been chased by giant chocolate cakes, all trying to drown her in their sticky fudge icing.
“Oh no… it’s the Cake Off today,” she groaned.
“Good morning! The snow’s all melted and it’s going to be a lovely day,” Simon said when she walked into the kitchen. There was a big un-Simon-like smile on his face. “I made you coffee,” he said, pushing a mug towards her.
“You’re being nice. Why?” January asked.
The smile fell off Simon’s face. “Hey! I’m always nice.”
January narrowed her eyes. “Did you break something, or is there a dead body I should know about?”
“Wow, you need to get some new friends if that’s the first thing your mind jumps to when someone makes you a cup of coffee.”
January didn’t say anything. He was probably right.
“In answer to your questions, no I haven’t broken anything or killed anyone today… yet,” he joked.
January didn’t smile. “Okay, well, thanks for the coffee,” she said, lifting the cup to her lips.
“Actually…” Simon started to say. January lowered the cup. She’d known there would be something. “Actually, I wanted to say good luck in the baking competition today.”
“Thank you,” she said, still feeling puzzled. Why was Simon acting so weird?
“I’ve been thinking about the two covens who might accidentally bring on the apocalypse at this Cake Off competition. I thought you could probably use some help to keep it all under control. So, I went round the judges’ houses and used this really nifty little spell that convinced them to add me into the competition. Now there are eleven bakers fighting it out! Isn’t that great?”
“Simon, do you actually know how to bake?” January was genuinely curious. She hoped he’d thought about that before he entered the competition.
“Oh, sure! I love baking! My style is a little unconventional, but the end result is always pretty good. So I’m told.” He tried to look modest and failed.
January clenched her teeth. He meant he used magic to bake.
“The baking isn’t important, though. I’m just there to act as a referee. It’s only fair you get to focus on doing your best in the competition without having to worry about feuding witches.”
January sipped her coffee and tried to not let Simon see how suspicious she was about all of this. What Simon was saying sounded like the words of a selfless saint. However, he’d already tricked his way into the competition - and she doubted that Tor had referred to him as ‘Slippery Simon’ without good reason. Rather than him being there to reduce the chaos at the competition, January thought Simon might actually be planning on contributing to it.
“May the best baker win!” Simon said, still smiling.
19
“Cake Off bakers are you ready?” The promotions girl was in full swing, and the audience was loving it. January was surprised by just how many people had turned out to watch a group of people bake cakes and biscuits in a tent in the middle of a field on a freezing day in March.
The cameraman zoomed in for a close up of the promotions girl. She smiled a perfectly straight smile. “Ready, steady… cake!” She shouted and the giant digital timer on the wall started counting down the two hour time limit they had for this first challenge.
January calmly got to work on her cakes. The first challenge was a simple one that they’d been able to practice for. All they had to do, was bake and decorate two different flavours of cupcakes. She’d opted for two alcohol inspired recipes that she hoped would work well together. One recipe was a light and fluffy mojito cupcake, with a refreshing hint of mint and lime icing. The other was rum infused chocolate cake, with a Baileys cream icing. Hopefully the judges were fans of a tipple!
January had just put both trays of cupcakes into the oven, when she realised how quiet things were. Everyone was getting on with their baking and nothing had exploded, or gone all weird.
It was incredibly suspicious.
January looked around using witch sight.
The tent transformed. A kaleidoscope of magical spells were shooting across the room and almost everyone’s baking was glowing. She looked into the oven at the cupcakes she’d just put in and saw that they too had a purple halo around them. While she watched, they started to move and she could see tiny maggots emerge and then cook when they reached the surface. Fighting down her revulsion, January stared at her cupcakes, telling them firmly that they were normal and maggot free. After a few seconds’ of concentrating, they looked like cakes again.
The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the bakers’ cakes. January could see batter splattering the inside of ovens, as creatures climbed out. She took a walk around the room, trying to fix as many of the cakes as possible without anyone noticing. All the time, she was trying to figure out who the witches were. She knew that Danny, Lucy, and Simon, weren’t involved. That left her with seven other bakers - four of whom were responsible for the magical mayhem taking place.
She looked over at Simon to signal she needed some help and caught him wiggling his fingers in the direction of a flustered looking redhead. The bowl of buttercream she was beating promptly curdled. Simon smiled and went back to his own icing.
Then he looked up and saw January watching him. His eyes widened when he realised he’d been caught. He flashed her a wicked grin and she saw that she’d been absolutely right to be suspicious of Simon’s motives. He hadn’t joined this competition to help her keep the order. He’d joined to cheat his way to victory!
January walked back to her baking station, restoring a few more cakes as she went along. Danny and Lucy’s
baking seemed to be coming along fine, and she only had to stop Lucy’s icing from coming to life and trying to strangle her once. Fortunately, Lucy had been looking the other way at the time.
“That’s it bakers! Time’s up. Let’s see what the judges have to say…” January looked down at her finished cupcakes. They looked pretty good and she knew for a fact they were spell free. She’d found that the best solution to the magical attacks was to imagine there was a bubble around the cakes. Several attacks had ricocheted off, turning her lemons rotten and filling her flour with bees, but nothing touched the cakes. They’d still suffered slightly from a lack of attention to detail, due to her trying to save the rest of the room from discovering the existence of magic. To make matters worse, the whole event was being filmed! If the witches had an official board, like the shifters, a lot of heads were going to roll. Unfortunately, right now, it was just down to her to try to keep things under control.
“This is excellent! It’s got a good crumb and a moist texture and there’s something a little bit different about it…” The male judge said, biting into a sandy haired man’s cupcakes. January’s mouth fell open in horror when she saw half a cockroach poking out from where he’d just bitten. She blinked and it turned back to cake.
“It’s the marzipan!” The sandy-haired man said, pleased that the judges had picked up on it.
For a moment, the male judge looked confused. “Really? It had a bit of a crunch.” January winced and was relieved when he let it go.
Her cakes were praised by both judges, but January couldn’t help but notice they both seemed a bit distracted. It probably had something to do with the way that the contestant before her had placed his cakes in front of the judges, only to have them dissolve into dust when the female judge had tried to pick one up.
“Now we have the technical challenge! You may not know this, but this particular recipe is the official biscuit of Hobbling. Today you will be baking us a beautiful batch of Hobnobs.”