Moonlight Binding Magic

by Charlotte Munich

  “Holy drums, Dora, where is this even coming from?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, the pupils shiny in the silver moonlight. Too bad I couldn’t set her straight, because it would blow my cover. I needed everyone to think I was a starstruck little pet. And I wasn’t going to tell her that I’d kissed her precious friend and it had been a huge mistake. Lying was a far better strategy all around.

  “Dora. I like Tristan, but not like that. I just enjoy his company in a platonic way. He’s my boss, he saved my ass from starvation, and he has contacts in the musical world. But other than that, we’re just friends. How can I spell it out for you clearly enough to make it stick?”

  There was a silence before I realized what a mistake I’d made.

  “You could take an oath,” Dora said with a small, humorless grin.

  “What?”

  “It wouldn’t take long. I bet we’d find everything we need in the kitchen,” she said, slowing down for a second to look outside at the moon before her head snapped back to me. “Yes, let’s do this.”

  She dove into the cupboard and instantly came up with elegant high heels. She gave them to me, and I took them, sighing.

  “What’s this oath thing now? Would Tristan agree to this?”

  “Of course he would,” she claimed. “Women resort to that kind of oath all the time in houses where there are pets. It’s very common. It sets things straight and tranquilizes everyone. This is a great idea.”

  She started walking out, while I was still struggling to put on the impossibly high-heeled shoes she’d given me.

  “I can’t take any oath about Tristan without talking to him first. I don’t answer to you,” I objected.

  “Well,” she admitted, “not yet. But you will, very soon.”

  “Will I?”

  “Yes. This is the deal. Tristan and I shook hands. I’m helping you tonight, and he will seriously consider an alliance between our two clans.”

  “Huh?”

  “A marriage, dumbass.”

  “What? You mean, you’re marrying Tristan? He didn’t tell me about it.”

  That made her laugh. “You think he tells you everything?”

  “No, of course not. But that’s great news. I suppose congratulations are in order.”

  I wasn’t so sure Tristan was happy about it, though. Had he promised Dora to marry her in exchange for helping me? It seemed a little extreme. I couldn’t let that happen—unless he really wanted it. But thinking about his expression of defeat the night before, I didn’t think he really aspired to that alliance.

  What was I supposed to do?

  “Come on!” Dora called. “I can whip up that spell in no time at all. We just need a couple of ingredients from the kitchen.”

  Thinking fast, I followed her all the way back to the grand entrance, through a smallish door, and into a huge kitchen where three people were working: a very thin old woman with gray hair in a chignon and gray plastic glasses, and two very young men. All three of them were wearing white cooking aprons. The old woman was yelling at the two young men, and despite their being both much taller and stronger than her, they both looked terrified of her.

  Until Dora and I stepped into the kitchen and the yelling stopped abruptly.

  “Sorry, Emma, lads, don’t mind me,” Dora said. “I just need to get a couple of things from the refrigerator.”

  But the old woman was standing in Dora’s way.

  “Certainly not,” she said, looking very stern.

  “Why not?” Dora retorted. She sounded amused.

  “Because Master Tristan doesn’t want anyone in his kitchen but us. If you’re hungry, just ring the bell.”

  Dora sniggered. “Come on. I only need some fresh animal blood and herbs. You’re being ridiculous.”

  But the older woman, Emma, crossed her arms over her bosom and held her ground. “No. You need to take it up with Master Tristan first. I don’t think he would like anyone to perform magic on his grounds without notifying him first. It’s always been like that, and so it shall remain.”

  Dora’s perfect brow furrowed, and a deep line formed at the side of her mouth. “Has Tris not told you about our pending alliance? Or does he not keep you informed of his schedule?”

  Emma spared her an ice-cold grin. Behind her back, the two kitchen aides were now working at full speed and looking very panicked by the conversation that was taking place in the room.

  “Master Tristan keeps me informed, which is how I know that you’re not my boss just yet,” Emma told Dora.

  “You’re making a huge mistake.”

  “I will leave that up for Master Tristan to judge. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

  She stared at Dora, her gray eyes unwavering, until Dora pivoted on her heels with a snicker and marched out of the kitchen, leaving me here in fascination for the cook.

  Now I felt doubly grateful for the woman who’d fed me so well, even though she hadn’t looked at me once during the whole altercation. I opened my mouth to speak, but she was already going back to her work.

  “I…” I started. “Thank you.”

  “Get out of my kitchen,” Emma growled without even looking over her shoulder.

  “Okay.” I took a couple of steps backwards. “Bye.” Two more steps. “I think you’re great, by the way.”

  No answer. I turned around and fled.

  26

  Tristan had left his car at the castle, so Dora and I drove it to the Victory Bar. Apparently, Dora’s teleportation privileges in his realm didn’t extend to sending Tristan’s pets wherever she wanted, and it suited me rather fine. So, the winding road through the woods it was.

  As Dora drove the slick black car much too fast through the thick fog, I picked a radio channel that was currently playing The Cure and sat back into the leather passenger seat, deep in thought.

  The dress was a delicate shade of petal pink, in case you were wondering. It wasn’t rock ’n’ roll in the least, but I had other things on my mind, and stage fright didn’t even make third on my list.

  I was wondering if Tristan was really going to make that alliance with Dora, a dangerous business- and hit-woman and a lousy being, if you asked me. I was really praying he hadn’t struck that stupid deal with her only because of me, only to help me. I was going to have to ask him that, as soon as I saw him. If a marriage with Dora had been in the cards for him anyway, fine. It was his business, not mine, and I wasn’t going to mess with them. But if he was humoring her just to help me, then it was not okay. In that case, our plans for tonight would have to be a no-go. Let Dora try and force me to open the five boxes in the fourteen-odd hours she had left as per her contract with Hughes. Let her deal with Hughes. I didn’t care. I couldn’t protect Tristan as his dead sister had asked me to do and let him sell his future away to Dora Vinok. That would be really counterproductive.

  Okay, yes, of course, I wanted to know what was in these boxes and preferably find out without risking my life. I wanted to know what had happened on May 7th, four years ago, why I hadn’t died, who had put a death mark on me and when. Also, why exactly I wasn’t dead yet. Was I really that lucky? And where was I getting the energy for my mysterious and instinctive magical activity?

  Which brought back the memory of that inappropriate kiss, again. Maybe I should really erase that from my mind, lest I should teleport to Tristan again. We couldn’t let that happen, now, could we?

  “You’re very quiet, pet,” Dora observed as she sent the car in a screeching turn.

  “You know pet is not actually a very creative pet name, right?”

  She snorted. The mist was dissipating now, and the forest around us was looking more and more groomed. Soon, we would reach Dompierre.

  “You think you’re smart,” Dora said, “but you’re just a fragile little human. Be very careful. I’m helping you because Tris wants me to, but I don’t like you, and I don’t owe you anything. And a last piece of advice from me: enjoy the night while you
still can.”

  I blew a raspberry to keep the threats at bay and kept my eyes firmly on my own goals: first, ask Tristan what his deal was. Then, meet with Hughes and wring out the truth from him, find out what he wanted. Then, give a kick-ass rock ’n’ roll show. Get out of opening the boxes by hiding long enough for Dora’s contract with Hughes to go bust. Let Dora deal with the fallout from that. Sign a record deal with some powerful label. Steal that cake recipe from Emma, with Tristan’s help, if needed. Live happily ever after in a giant mansion with my musical soulmates, somewhere by the sea. The End.

  Yeah.

  Of course, looking back at that night now, my plan was full of holes.

  27

  There were a lot of cars parked along the road, all the way from Elise’s farm into Dompierre, on both sides. The small parking lot in front of the Victory Bar was also crowded, with elegant people everywhere converging to the bar. Every time the door opened, music spilled into the early winter evening.

  We’d hired Fabien, the baker’s son, to deal with the guests’ arrivals. When Dora slammed the brakes in front of the bar, swearing because of the lack of parking space, he greeted us with wide, shell-shocked eyes, and I smiled at him, lowering my window to talk to him.

  “Hey, Fabien. Everything okay?”

  “Unh, yes. I think. There are…a lot of people.”

  “I can see that.” I smiled happily. “It’s great.”

  “Some of them tipped me,” he said, a look of pure disbelief on his handsome young face as he showed me a stack of fifties bunched up in his tight fist. “And a lady in a weird dress kissed my cheek.”

  “I hope you told her to behave,” I replied, frowning. “You earned those tips and should keep them. As for being kissed by old ladies, it is not in your job description, Fabien. If you have any problem with the guests, you come to me, all right? Or to Tristan. This is not okay.”

  Fabien nodded, still looking lost. Dora was getting impatient.

  “Are you quite finished?” she asked me.

  “We saved you a parking space on the side of the barn…I mean, of the bar,” Fabien said.

  “Oh, great. Thanks. Talk to you later. Good luck.”

  I winked at him, and he nodded absently.

  “He’s cute,” Dora said. “In a pet way.”

  “He’s sixteen.”

  “I love young boys.”

  “Touch him and die.”

  She threw me a dark look. “Who made you queen of the pets?”

  I didn’t answer. I was supposed to keep a low profile, but she didn’t make things easy for me.

  We parked and then went around the building to get inside through the front entrance. A very handsome young couple made their way to the door about the same time as we did, both blond, both wearing cashmere, and for her, diamonds.

  Holy mushroom. I was ready to bet that these people were not from the area. More likely, they were from one of the realms. I wondered if there would be human people in here tonight. I’d invited Elise to thank her for helping us out with eggs and clothes and everything after the fire, but now, I didn’t know if she was going to like this.

  “Listen,” I told Dora when we reached the small antechamber with the oil painting representing tango dancers. “I need to make sure Tristan hasn’t forgotten about these last boxes of pink champagne. Can we meet here at the entrance in ten minutes? I’ll come back and find you. Just order something to drink. It’ll be on the house. I’ll be back right away.”

  “Sure.” She was already people-watching, her gaze distant.

  I ran over to Tristan, whom I found manning the bar. He must have concentrated extra-hard on his disguise, or effectively dressed for the occasion, because he was wearing a truly unforgettable purple suit peppered with sparkly crystals.

  “You look stunning,” I told him, leaning over the bar with my elbows on the counter.

  I wasn’t working the bar until after the show. We’d hired two girls from the neighborhood, Fabien’s big sister and her friend. They were almost my age.

  Tristan smiled and gave me the once-over. “You’re beautiful,” he stated. “Is this one of Mar’s old dresses?”

  “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind. Dora picked it for me. We had an interesting little chat.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I offer you something to drink?”

  “No. Thanks. What I would like is for you to confirm that you are not marrying Dora just to get me out of trouble, because I’m not sure I could live with that.”

  He sighed. “Ah. Look. It’s not like that.”

  “Well, what is it like?”

  I just hoped he hid the red light in his eyes from others better than he did from me, because he really looked like a deer in the headlights right now.

  “Look, Tristan. I’ll be blunt here. I’m not making a scene. I’m not claiming you or anything. That kiss earlier, it was just a blip. It didn’t mean anything. You know that.”

  “Right.”

  “I just want to make sure you’re not sacrificing too much for the sake of helping me. That’s all. Obviously, you’re an adult. You do what you want with your life. I’m just making sure…”

  This conversation was a mess, and I let the rest of my sentence trail away until the loud music swallowed it. I was about to retreat when Tristan’s hand caught my wrist. His skin was very cold.

  “No,” he enunciated very slowly and clearly. “I’m not doing it for you. You’re just a pet. This, Dora and me, it was bound to happen. It’s politics. She’s not only a talented businesswoman, she has connections, and she likes living between the worlds, just as I do. Our alliance makes sense. I’m not doing it for you.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, my mouth extra dry.

  Sure, it was a lot of explanations. And they didn’t sit well with me. As in, I still wasn’t sure I believed him. But it was his choice, wasn’t it?

  I looked for something to say in order to conclude that awkward exchange while saving the remaining shreds of my dignity, but a moving body hit me from the side and engulfed me in a big hug.

  “Vic!” It was Linus.

  Thom was there, too. “Can you believe this party?” he called, clearly very excited. “Who would have thought?”

  I smiled and hugged them back. They were nervous, but in a good way.

  “Cute dress,” Linus said.

  “I know it’s not very edgy.” I smiled. “But I kinda like it.”

  “Who cares about edgy? It’s pretty. The audience is going to love you.”

  “I hope they love us, yeah.”

  I knew there would be people from the music industry in the room tonight when we played, because Tristan had told us he had invited some of his most interesting contacts. I just didn’t know what world they were from, ours or his. But for now, I tried not to care too much. It was huge already, knowing that we were going to climb on the stage in that beautiful, magical room, and that we were going to play our songs to this audience.

  I turned back to Tristan.

  “Thank you so much for doing all this. You’re really making our dreams come true, you know that?”

  I was painfully aware that if it weren’t for me, he’d never have done all of this. I had literally summoned him and his amazing venue into our existence. It was freaking incredible, and yet I was starting to believe that it was real. And now, it would be really awesome if I could just believe in it before it all disappeared.

  Tristan grinned. “My pleasure.”

  “No. Really. You should be granted a wish, too, don’t you think? Guys?”

  Linus and Thom nodded, but Tristan looked annoyed.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  He bent over the bar to get closer and spoke directly into my ear, sending cold air under my hair.

  “Because your words have power, that’s why. You have some magic in you, even if we don’t understand it, and you should be careful. In magical terms, you almos
t acknowledged that you owed me a wish and you were that close to granting it to me.”

  “Yep,” I confirmed, smiling. “That’s right. I’m in a good mood, and I’m granting you a w—”

  He’d caught my wrist again, gripping hard, almost painfully now, as if to stop me from making a huge mistake.

  “Don’t, Vic.”

  But I didn’t care. I turned to face him and said it again, right to his face.

  “Tristan, I am granting you a wish, whether you want it or not.”

  I knew Linus was watching us intently, and Dora must be waiting for me by now, but I needed to act on this strange impulse I’d just had. I was signing Tristan a blank check. This had to be trust at its finest.

  “Really,” I insisted.

  Tristan was shaking his head, but it was too late.

  “You can’t refuse that,” I added. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

  Now I wasn’t talking about the bar or the concert. I was talking about the boxes, about him possibly going very far out of his own way and doing everything to help me sort out my exceedingly weird problems.

  “You don’t get it,” he said. “You can’t control your wishes. They’re not like favors, decisions, or…or alliances. They’re impulses. They don’t take reason into account, and they can get exhausting. You can wish for something and not even want it.” He swallowed. “Some wishes can get pretty dark.”

  I snorted. “Are yours?”

  I somehow doubted that.

  “I’m trying really hard not to form one right now, if you must know,” he complained.

  I shrugged. This was fun. “Hold that thought. I’ve got to meet Hughes. Unless you tell me not to go. I can still spare you the trouble of holding up your end of the bargain, you know.”

  “Don’t.”

  I sighed. “Well, at least you have that wish now. You can consider it your insurance policy.”

  “Please don’t remind me of that wish. I really have other things to do.”

  “Okay. Bye.”