by Ashlyn Chase
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll bet you believe all men think with their little heads and you’re not attractive enough to turn on a certain vampire.”
The air rushed out of Morgaine’s emotional balloon, and she sagged against the counter. “Okay, I guess you do know what I’m thinking.”
“So, what are you gonna do about it?”
“What can I do? I can’t turn my cousin into an ugly hag. I can’t make Sly fall madly in love with me. Well, I could do those things, but that would be cheating.”
“At the risk of sounding clichéd, all you need to do is be yourself.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
* * * *
Carrying his one cardboard box tucked under his arm, Sly unlocked and opened the door to his apartment. He took one step and halted. This was his apartment, right? He glanced back at the door and saw 1B proudly displayed in brass.
All he’d expected to find in his place was possibly Merry’s bedroom set, but a worn leather couch, an old trunk, and an antique-looking chair were grouped around his fireplace. A braided rug covered the floor beneath the welcoming scene. Artwork, candles, vases, books… every comfort of home graced the walls and bookshelves.
As he stood in his living room, confused, he heard snickers coming from the back of the apartment.
“Surprise!” his friends yelled as they jumped into view.
Merry, Morgaine, Gwyneth, Konrad, and Roz stood there grinning and laughing.
Just then, Nathan strolled in behind him, carrying an old bird perch. At least that’s what Sly thought it was. It looked like the tall metal T-bar that a parrot would sit on.
“Did I miss the big surprise?” Nathan asked.
Sly smiled. “Apparently.”
“Good. I hate those things. Here.” Nathan extended the item in his hand and set it on the floor next to him. “It’s my old perch. You can use it for a coat rack—or something.” Then he looked over toward the rest of the group. “Is there cake?”
Merry held up a bottle of champagne. “No, only this. Sly doesn’t eat.”
Nathan sighed. “Well, I’ll be going then. Welcome to the neighborhood, Sly.” He extended his free hand and Sly shook it.
“Jesus, man. I’ll never get over how cold you are. Go drink a rat or something.”
Gwyneth folded her arms. “Nathan Nourie, y’all git back here. Not only was that uncalled for, but this here’s a party and we’re all celebratin’.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going.” He left and closed the door behind him.
Gwyneth rolled her eyes. “I do declare, I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy. You’d think we was making him stand in front of a firin’ squad.”
“That’s just the way he is, Gwyneth,” Morgaine said. “I don’t think we can change him.”
“I suppose not. Ain’t no point in beatin’ a dead horse… ’course, it can’t hurt none either.”
Sly grinned and wandered closer to his friends. “I guess you gave me some of your old things?”
“Well,” Roz answered, “Merry told us that someone was too proud to let her furnish the place with new stuff, so everything here is used.”
“We figured y’all wouldn’t mind a few little castoffs since it didn’t cost us nothin’.”
“Thank you.” He scanned the cozy-looking living room, and a lump formed in his throat. “I’m truly touched.”
He wandered over to the eclectic furniture grouping. His amplified sense of smell told him exactly who’d previously owned each piece.
The antique chair was from Roz. The couch was Merry’s. He ran his hand over the back of it. The beat-up old brown leather only made it softer and more comfortable.
The trunk was Morgaine’s, and a bookshelf held the scent of Konrad’s wolf hair.
“We put a few items in the kitchen too,” Gwyneth said.
He strolled past the dining area furnished with a tiny round table and two chairs, again with Merry’s scent, and stepped into the galley kitchen.
Gwyneth opened the cabinets and showed off a five-gallon bucket and a couple of large copper pots. “These will come in handy later on when we set up the—”
Morgaine cleared her throat and sent her a quick head shake. “There’s plenty of time for him to look around and see what’s here.”
Gwyneth looked over at Merry and must have realized she had almost spilled the beans about the still in front of the landlady.
“Of course. Silly me. What was I thinkin’?”
“And Sly,” Merry added as she set the champagne on the counter, “if you need anything else, please ask. Okay?”
“I can only think of one thing I really need, and that’s a way of darkening my bedroom during the day. Did you bring any blankets?”
“I didn’t have to,” Merry said. “Morgaine suggested room-darkening shades. It’s the only thing I bought, Sly. I promise.”
Sly looked over at Morgaine. She blushed slightly and dropped her gaze to the floor. Why was she embarrassed? She had thought of his needs and suggested the perfect way to meet them. He wanted to hug her, but not in front of an audience.
“I really can’t thank you enough—everyone.” Were those tears threatening to form in his eyes? No way was he going to let people see the big, scary vampire cry—especially gross, bloody tears. He grabbed the champagne bottle and said, “Did anyone happen to donate a corkscrew?”
Chapter 4
Gwyneth applied her best perfume, brushed her hair, and tiptoed downstairs to Sly’s apartment, carrying her lit candelabra. She knew Sly wasn’t using electricity in order to save money, and he might be able to see in the dark, but she couldn’t. Besides, everyone looked good in candlelight. She wore a short, black skirt—a departure from her long, black, broomstick skirt. She hoped the black velour top that clung to her curves made her look as alluring as she felt.
Sly opened the door shortly after her first knock.
“Hey, Sly.”
“Hi, Gwyneth, what a surprise.”
“I hope y’all think it’s a good surprise, and I didn’t catch y’all with your pants down.” She giggled and felt herself blush. “Well, hush my mouth, I didn’t mean that quite how it sounded.” Or did I?
Sly grinned and stepped aside. “Come in.”
She sashayed in. “I know all y’all vampire folk have to be invited into someone’s home, but is it the same the other way around?”
He shook his head but kept his smile and said, “Not that I’ve ever heard. Seems a little unfair, but… Please, have a seat.”
Oh, good. It looks like my Southern charm, as Chad calls it, is workin’.
She settled herself on Sly’s comfortable leather sofa and hoped he’d sit next to her. No such luck. He took the rocking chair beside it. She set the candelabra on the table between them.
“Looks like y’all got a new chair. I don’t remember it from the housewarmin’ party.”
“Merry said I could borrow it until the baby comes.”
“Well, ain’t that nice. Bless her heart.”
“Yes, she’s a special girl.”
“She ain’t such a girl anymore. She’s a little older than I am, and I consider myself a grown woman.” She arched her back just slightly, hoping her small chest would look larger.
“I guess you’re right. So what brings you down here?”
“Well, two things. I need to give you a shopping list and directions to make the mash.”
He took the piece of paper and skimmed the recipe. “Kill Me Quick?”
“That’s what it’s called. It’s fast to make—it doesn’t really kill ya.”
He chuckled. “Well, since I’m already dead, I don’t suppose I need to worry about that.”
“Oh, speakin’ of parties, I was figurin’ on askin’ you to attend a Halloween party with me.”
He cocked his head. “I thought Wiccans had a different name for Halloween and conside
red it a solemn holiday.”
Shoot. He knows about our traditions. Now what? “That’s absolutely right, but Halloween looks like so much fun I thought maybe I’d participate this year. We could dress up in costumes.”
“Hmmm… that’s interesting. So who will be attending this party?”
She squirmed in her seat. “Well, I don’t know yet. I thought I’d start with you and see how many folks could make it.”
“Well, we know Nathan won’t come. I doubt the superintendent will. How does Morgaine feel about abandoning her traditions in favor of a non-pagan holiday?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t mentioned it to her yet.”
“Hey, Gwyneth,” Chad interrupted. “What the hell are you up to? You know Morgaine won’t go to a costume party on Samhain.”
Gwyneth stuck a hand on her hip and looked toward the ceiling. “Chad, I don’t recollect invitin’ y’all to this conversation.”
Sly looked at the ceiling too. “Chad’s up there?”
“He’s somewhere around. I can’t see him. I can only hear him.” She raised her voice slightly. “Y’all aren’t welcome at the moment, Chad. Now, git. I’ll talk to y’all later when I’m back in our apartment.”
“Make me.”
Gwyneth’s posture deflated like a day-old balloon. “I guess we’re stuck with him. He refuses to leave.”
Sly shrugged. “I don’t mind if he hangs out here for a little while. He must get awfully lonely, and you witches are the only ones he can talk to.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled absently. “He’s powerful lonely. I just wish he’d go bother Morgaine for a while.”
“She’s asleep.”
Gwyneth sighed. “Well, if he’s stickin’ around, I’ll have to cut this short. So what do you say to my invitation?”
“I—uh, I don’t know yet. Let me think about it and get back to you.” He stood.
“Oh.” She rose slowly, giving him a chance to reconsider. Disappointment washed over her. Why was Sly less than enthusiastic about the “party”?
Maybe she should have been honest. He didn’t know it would only be the two of them. She knew Nathan would have nothing to do with it, and she could count on Morgaine not cheapening the most sacred Wiccan holiday there is. She’d just “forget” to invite Jules or say she forgot accidentally on purpose because he’s the super and doesn’t like parties in the building. Sly doubted Jules would go anyway, so she could say she didn’t want to put him in the awkward position of refusing.
“So, Samhain—I mean, Halloween—is only a couple of days away. Y’all won’t forget to tell me soon, right?”
He smiled. “No, I won’t forget.”
As soon as he closed the door after her, she stuck out her lower lip. “Chad,” she whispered, “I swear y’all ruin everything.”
His voice followed her up the stairs. “I didn’t ruin anything, but you were about to.”
“What are you jabberin’ about?”
“Your relationship with Morgaine. You know how competitive you two can be.”
“I don’t know what y’all are talkin’ about.”
“Yes, you do. I remember a couple of world-class fights between you two only a few months ago. It’s a good thing Konrad was here to lift you off Morgaine and suspend you in midair by your macramé belt.”
Gwyneth chuckled. “We was just scrappin’. Nobody got hurt.”
“Well, he’s not here now, and I can’t very well keep you two from killing each other if you go at it again. Of course, if one of you murdered the other one, I’d have some company, wouldn’t I?”
“Probably not, since witches believe in reincarnation, but y’all don’t have to worry, Chad. Nothin’s gonna happen.”
“Famous last words.”
* * * *
Morgaine had some appointments for readings the following day. This woman wanted a palm reading. Not the best for giving loads of information so she didn’t do it often, but it was good to keep her skills sharp. She traced the heart line of her female client.
“Now this is a good, strong line. There are a couple of partial lines dropping down from it, which means you’ve had a couple of heartaches, but in general your love life is—”
A rap on her door interrupted her thoughts. The energy is familiar—oh, it’s Sly! Now, how to get rid of this client so she could spend some quality time with him?
The woman leaned forward. “My love life is…”
“Oh.” Morgaine patted the woman’s hand. “It’s just fine. You’ll meet the man of your dreams soon, have two children, a house in the suburbs, and a minivan.” She craned her neck to face the door and yelled, “Be right there.”
The woman got the hint and pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Fifty.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Fifty bucks for a ten-minute palm reading?”
Morgaine sighed. “Okay, twenty. But you’re only getting the discount because I hurried the end.”
The woman seemed appeased, paid her bill, and opened the door just as Sly looked like he was about to leave.
Morgaine hurried over. “Sly, come on in.”
“If you’re busy, it can wait.”
“No, it’s fine.”
The woman turned to Sly and whispered in his ear, “She’s good, but her appointments are booked too close together. If she rushes you at the end, ask for a break in the price.”
“Uh, thanks,” Sly said. He watched her go.
“What was that about?” Morgaine asked.
Sly strolled into her apartment and waited for her to close the door. “Apparently you give discounts if you kick someone out before they’re finished.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Uh, well. There was really nothing…”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you had your reasons. I just hope it wasn’t because I was outside your door.”
She waved away his comment as if it was ridiculous. “Nah. I told her everything I had to say. Have a seat. Can I make you some tea?”
“No, I can’t. The incense smell in here is kind of overwhelming.”
“Oh! Sorry. It’s all part of the atmosphere. I can run a fan and open—”
“No need. I just wanted to ask you one question and tell you something else.”
Disappointed that he wasn’t planning to stay long, she sank down on her sofa. “Okay. What did you want to ask and tell me?”
“First I’ll tell you what I overheard. The super, Jules, is concerned with the increase in foot traffic. He knows you do readings from the apartment and seems concerned about the number of strangers coming and going.”
“How did you hear that?”
“I think he was talking to Merry on the phone. I couldn’t see him since I was downstairs in my apartment and he was upstairs in his.”
“Yikes. You’re vampiric hearing can pick up conversations right through the ceiling?”
“When it’s relatively quiet elsewhere.”
“I’m glad we have two floors between us. Especially when we’re on the phone sex line.”
Sly laughed. “That’s when I’d give my right arm to live next door.”
She had to giggle. Morgaine wished her psychic powers could tell her what Sly thought of her. He seemed to like her. Maybe he was interested, but he was too much of a gentleman to come right out and say so.
“There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” she said hopefully. “What is it?”
He seemed uncomfortable and hesitated a moment. “I’m not positive, and I’m going to be very embarrassed if I’m wrong, but it seems as if Gwyneth is trying seduce me. She came down to my apartment, smelling like expensive perfume and invited me to a Halloween party.”
Morgaine’s eyebrows shot up. “Halloween? Are you sure she said that?”
“Yes. I asked if she meant the solemn holiday I know Wiccans celebrate this time of year, but…”
Sly was still talking, but M
orgaine was too angry to make out his words. Gwyneth, her scheming, coquettish cousin, who could have any man she wanted, wanted the only person Morgaine thought she might already be in love with.
Steam must have been pouring out her ears, because Sly had stopped talking and was watching her intently with his mouth slightly open.
“Are you all right, Morgaine?”
“I’ll talk to her,” she said.
“Maybe I should have done it myself, but I didn’t want to insult her. And I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea by coming up to her apartment. The truth is, I just don’t think of her that way.”
Did that mean he didn’t think of either of them “that way”? Morgaine’s heart crumpled, but she forced herself to calm down. “It’s okay. I understand. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to lose your friendship or make a fool of herself. I’ll let her know you won’t be coming to her Halloween party.”
* * * *
“Oh boy, this is gonna be bad,” Chad muttered.
Morgaine leaned against her door, opening and closing her fists. Before she left her apartment, she turned the radio up loud. “Chad, don’t you dare say one word to Gwyneth. This is our business, and I’m asking you nicely to stay out of it.”
“Thanks for asking nicely, but I don’t plan to warn her. What would I say? ‘Look out. Witch on the warpath’? Heck, no. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Morgaine inhaled deeply and said, “Okay, Sly’s inside his apartment with the door closed now.” She threw open her door and marched across the hall.
Chad watched as Morgaine pounded on Gwyneth’s door. The decorated broom hanging on it jumped with each blow. “Hey, see if you can knock that thing off. I hate it, and it’s still my apartment. I just let Gwyneth crash here so you two wouldn’t kill each other last summer. Obviously, that didn’t help.”
“Gwyneth! Open the door.”
Chad stuck his head through the oak door and saw a blasé Gwyneth putting a chilled bottle of white wine back into the refrigerator.