Queer Magick

by Davis, L. C.

  "I guess..."

  "I mean, I'm close enough to straight there wasn't ever any reason to label as something different." He shrugged. "I never thought it'd be an issue."

  "Like I said, it doesn't have to be. If Locke gets his way, I'm not going to be monogamous relationship material anyway, so there's no reason your family has to know anything if you don't want them to."

  "Yeah..." He frowned. "You really believe in this prophecy stuff?"

  "I don't want to, but at this point, I've heard it from enough different sources that I have to consider it."

  "Sorry I killed the mood," he said with a husky laugh. "I'm sure this is the last thing you wanted to talk about."

  "No, it's probably for the best," I admitted. "Now that my head's clearer, I think going any further would have been a mistake. If I really am who everyone thinks I am, celibacy is more a matter of safety than a choice."

  "Time to break out the chastity belt?" he teased, sitting up.

  I rolled my eyes. "Don't give Locke any ideas."

  "He's diabolical enough on his own," Nick agreed, checking the clock on his nightstand. "I should get to work."

  "Me, too," I said, resenting the cold floor as soon as my bare feet hit it. "I've got some horrendously late orders to mail, so I'll come by later."

  "I'm not complaining," he said, slipping his arms around my waist to pull me in for another kiss. "Remember our deal?"

  I rolled my eyes as he pulled away and shrugged into his jacket. "I'll text you if I see so much as a hint of white fur."

  "Good boy," he said with a grin, letting the door fall shut behind him.

  Hopefully we could talk about choosing a different pet name later. For the moment, I decided to just be relieved Nick was staying just the way he was.

  Nineteen

  DANIEL

  The more time that passed between Locke's dramatic reveal and the Equinox festival, the less confident I was in...everything. Nick was a werewolf, the town I had lived in my entire life was crawling with supernaturals, and the Biblical apocalypse had replaced tax season as my most dreaded deadline, and Dennis fucking Mills was running for Town Council. Not only that, but according to Carla, who had appointed herself my unofficial campaign manager, he was kicking my ass.

  Granted, I hadn't put together much of a campaign between dodging demons and inoculating Shih Tzus, but I had assumed that not being the guy who killed the town sweetheart thirteen years ago would at least grant me a small lead. The lesson I had taken away from all of it was to never underestimate the power of cheesy posters--like seeing one of him around town wasn't bad enough--and monogrammed pens when swaying the hearts and minds of the voting public. If overexposure had been Dennis's downfall a decade ago, he was turning it to his advantage now.

  As I passed the town square with a stack of self-promotional leaflets Carla had badgered me into printing up, I was distracted from my self-loathing by the sight of Brent Whitaker and the devil himself having a cozy chat underneath the awning of the local tailor. Whatever they were talking about, it hadn't displaced Dennis' plastic smile, but Brent looked like he had seen better days.

  I opened the door to the post office and Nick jolted at the sound of the bell. "Asleep on the job?" I asked as he leaned back from the counter he'd been napping on and stretched.

  "Being Holden's guard dog hasn't left much time for sleep."

  "No sign of our furry friend?"

  "No, which means he's smart enough to know he's an endangered species."

  "How's Holden holding up?"

  "About as well as anyone would after finding out they're the Whore of Babylon, I guess."

  I snorted. "From what he told me, I don't think he put too much stock in it before. Probably just thought it was more of his dad's fairytales."

  "Hopefully it is," said Nick, eyeing the fliers in my hand. "What's that?"

  "Campaign leaflets," I said, dropping them on the counter. "Your aunt made me do it."

  "I know the feeling," he said, grabbing one before I could stop him.

  "Please don't --"

  "'Experienced local business owner who understands your concerns,'" he read in a mocking tone. "It's so heartfelt."

  "Your aunt is the one who came up with the wording," I grumbled. "If I hadn't stopped her, my face would be on the front."

  "Better than seeing Dennis' creepy mug everywhere," he chuffed. "I swear, his eyes follow me wherever I go."

  "Tell me about it."

  "How do you feel about running against him?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. "Is it weird? I feel like it'd be weird."

  "It's weird, but it's better than letting him take any actual power in this town."

  "I don't get what he wants with the job, anyway. Uncle Luke used to drag me to the meetings and it was just a bunch of pre-retirees sitting around gossiping. Dennis is hardly ever here anyway."

  "Until recently."

  He frowned. "He did sort of pop back up around the same time Holden got here, didn't he?"

  "Like a bad rash. Sorry, but your boyfriend attracts the weirdos."

  "He's as much Dennis' boyfriend as mine at this point," Nick muttered.

  "Seriously?"

  "Yeah, but that's not public knowledge."

  "Since when are you keeping secrets for Dennis?"

  "I'm not, but I have to play by the rules or risk Holden shutting me out again. I don't like it, but for the moment, I'm more worried about Locke coming back on the equinox." He grimaced. "Which reminds me of the fact that you fucked a demon. I don't think I've had time to sufficiently haze you for that."

  "Trust me, I've got it covered."

  "Shouldn't you get tested for Hell rabies or something?"

  "See, this is why we're friends. Talking to you always makes me feel so much better."

  He grinned. "I mock because I care. You know I'd do anything for you."

  "That reminds me. Your aunt roped me into setting up a booth at the festival for the animal shelter. I could use someone to handle the human interaction and it could be a good excuse to drink and laugh at all the teenagers trying to impress their girlfriends by winning rigged carnival games."

  "Yeah, that sounds --" His face went blank. "Oh, shit. I can't."

  "Don't tell me your aunt got Holden to set up a kissing booth."

  "No," he said, his voice laced with a growl, like the thought alone was enough to set him off. "It's not that, it's just that the equinox falls on a full moon this year."

  "So?"

  "Shifting on a full moon isn't optional, and something tells me I'm not the kind of fuzzy critter the festivalgoers are looking to adopt. They'd be freaked enough if they knew a wolf was delivering their mail."

  I hesitated. "Be honest with me. Did you take this job just so you could make bad jokes?"

  "Know thy enemy," he said with an air of gravitas as he started dropping the fliers into the P.O. boxes on the wall. "The benefits aren't bad either, and I needed something to do when I got home from the Army since they wouldn't let me be a cop."

  "Why? Did Mrs. Oakley press charges after you stole her car?"

  "I didn't steal it, I borrowed it, and she was more pissed about what I was doing with her daughter in the backseat than the car itself," he mused. "And no, Brent is just an overprotective pain in the ass. I'm gonna have fun turning it around on him when I'm the alpha."

  "Alpha?"

  "Oh. Yeah, uh, I'm next in line to lead the pack."

  "And you just forgot to mention that?"

  "Hey, you fainted when I showed you my wolf form." I was never going to live it down, either. "I didn't want to make your head explode by overloading you on werewolf politics."

  "I'm fine now," I muttered. When he gave me a dubious look, I added, "Mostly. As fine as I'm gonna be."

  "You know how I told you I have two forms?"

  "Yeah... Cute and fluffy and nightmare monster. I prefer the former, no offense."

  He snorted. "The nightmare monster is called an alpha sh
ift, and only alpha wolves have one. We can go back and forth at will, but if we don't take our alpha forms on a full moon, we risk going Cujo on the villagers."

  "Good to know." And disquieting. "Some part of me is relieved to know those things aren't running around in the woods."

  "Just me and Uncle Luke, and we only have to take that form on a full moon for maintenance purposes. Otherwise, we can be 'cute and fluffy,' as you put it."

  "At least now I know why you and Brent would always flake out on plans randomly. You'd think werewolves would be better at keeping track of full moons."

  "Organization and wolves don't really mix. That's why we have an alpha."

  "And you're going to be the alpha one day? What, does that automatically make you the mayor?"

  "No," he said with a laugh. "Not automatically, but that's why we have the jobs we do. Keeping a record of public service and all that. It's less suspicious that way."

  "At least now the nepotism seems a bit less sinister. Somehow."

  Nick glanced over my shoulder and leaned in. "It comes with perks, y'know. If this election is important to you, I can make sure it goes...predictably."

  I frowned. "Tell me you're joking."

  "I thought we both agreed Mills on the Council is a bad thing."

  "Yeah, because he's bad for the town. Kind of like a rigged election would be."

  He rolled his eyes. "Sometimes you have to do the wrong thing to do the right thing, Daniel."

  I stared at him in disbelief.

  "What?"

  "Nothing," I muttered, stepping back from the counter. "It's just that for the first time, you actually sound like a Whitaker."

  "Dan, come on."

  I ignored him, pushing the door open and hoping he'd have the sense not to follow me. One of the few perks of being consistently grumpy was that it took a lot to light my actual fuse, but Nick was better at it than anyone.

  I was halfway to nowhere in particular when I saw someone stooped by the side of the road leading into town. I got a little closer and realized it was Holden, picking what looked like weeds in the grass and dropping them into a basket.

  "Hey, Little Red. You sure you should be out this far without the Big Bad Wolf?"

  He flipped me off halfheartedly and rose to his feet, wiping his hands off on his worn jeans. "Full moon's over. I figure if I see Locke again, I can just crate him."

  "I've treated some cats I'd describe as demonic over the years, but he definitely takes the cake."

  "How are you doing?" he asked, frowning. "I mean, finding out what Locke is must be weird if you two were close."

  "We weren't. It was just a one-night stand," I admitted, not sure why I felt so embarrassed to admit that.

  "Still. I'm really sorry you got involved in all this, and I feel sort of responsible since I'm the one who brought Locke here in the first place."

  "It's fine. Really. It's not like Stillwater was normal before," I muttered. "Apparently."

  "Normal is a pipe dream at this point," he said, blowing a messy strand of hair out of his face. When I had first met Holden, he looked so put together I was convinced we had another Carla on our hands. I preferred this Holden, the one wearing a baggy sweatshirt covered in dirt and a baseball cap, if only because it seemed more genuine. Then again, maybe I was just being the jealous fuck I had transformed into without being aware of it. Maybe I just wanted him to be like this instead of the polar opposite of anything I would ever be because in some sick way, it made it easier to tell myself that I wasn't the complete opposite of someone Nick could want.

  Jealousy was a hell of a drug.

  "I guess we'll find out on the equinox."

  "Hopefully even Locke is above causing a scene at the festival."

  I had my doubts, but decided not to burst his bubble. "Hopefully. You planning on going?"

  "I don't know if it's a good idea."

  "Come on, your would-be date is going to be running around in the woods. You might as well enjoy a heart attack on a stick and watch the sitting Council members get dunked into ice water."

  He laughed. "That does sound like a good distraction."

  "You can always stop by my adoption booth. Maybe you'll find a replacement for Puff."

  "I think it'll take a while before I'm ready to commit to the joys of pet ownership again," he said in a dry tone. "You're running a booth?"

  "Carla is hard to say no to."

  "I've noticed. Need any help?"

  I hesitated. Spending the whole night sitting next to Nick's sort-of boyfriend behind two card tables pushed together and covered with a cheap tablecloth wasn't my idea of a fun evening, but this was the equinox festival, so being awkward and depressed was pretty much a given. "Sure, if you have time."

  "I've got a lot of that these days," he said, picking up the basket. "Just don't make me hold any white cats and I'm at your service."

  I couldn't help but laugh. Maybe this wouldn't be all that bad. "You've got yourself a deal."

  Twenty

  HOLDEN

  The days leading up to the equinox seemed to evaporate. Samantha, Dennis' contact in Burlington finally called me back and apologized for taking so long. She had just wrapped up a major case, which she was eager to announce had been decided in her client's favor, "as usual." She said she would be happy to meet up with me in person and discuss the letter in more detail, and I got the feeling she was more interested in taking on another high-profile case for the prestige than the warm fuzzies, but I told myself that just meant she would fight harder.

  I had offered to meet her in Burlington, but she was strangely insistent on coming to Stillwater instead. I brushed it off as her wanting an excuse to see Dennis, and I couldn't blame her. Why he stayed in Stillwater when he could easily have anyone he wanted if he just went somewhere no one knew him was beyond my ability to sort out.

  To my relief, he'd been characteristically understanding about my postponing our date. I had been so distracted all week by Locke's impending visit that I'd entirely forgotten the full moon fell on a Friday. I felt guilty for canceling on him at the last minute, but it was better than bringing Locke right to him. At least the equinox festival was a public setting. It was also surrounded by woods, and knowing Nick would be out there, even if he wasn't human, was a comfort.

  Dennis had become something of a sore spot between Nick and I. Whenever we were out together and he spotted Dennis, he would make some remark not-quite-under his breath, and the last one had gotten under my skin. It was our first fight since the time when our relationship had consisted entirely of fighting, but I was tired enough of hearing comments about Dennis around town and not being able to defend him. Nick knew better.

  Then there were those moments, as fleeting as they were, when I would find myself at Nick's place and it was hard to remember anyone else even existed. He told me the wolves had affectionately termed it "mate brain," and I wasn't crazy about the way that sounded, but I had all the symptoms. Maybe the bond didn't inspire the same fierce protectiveness in me that it did in him, but what I did feel was getting stronger each day. I wanted things I didn't even understand, things I couldn't put a name to with one notable exception.

  Marking. Nick had come close a few times, when a makeout session turned a bit too hot and heavy. All I knew was that there was nothing halfhearted about the way my body responded, flushed with heat and want as his teeth scraped my neck, teasing some primal urge I couldn't understand any more than I could control it. When I was in that mode, breathless and desperate, I didn't care what the consequences would be. I recognized on some instinctual level that allowing him to mark me would turn the gray space of borderline-platonic friendship we'd been living in to black and white, forcing us both to make a decision we weren't ready for. After all, Nick was still sorting out his sexuality and what to tell his family. In the moment, none of those things seemed to matter. I just knew I wanted his teeth in me, and the claim of ownership that came with it. It scared me how little I rec
ognized myself in those moments, how I could feel such a strong urge for something that would have otherwise repulsed me.

  I told myself it was a good thing that Nick had more willpower than I did. If he had given in and marked me, there would always be part of me that wondered if I had let him do it because I wanted him to or because of the psychic link that made me so easy to compel and bend to his will.

  At least the festival would be a distraction from all of it. As I got ready, I found myself excited for the chance to spend more time with Daniel. Things had been tense between him and Nick, but whenever I asked Nick about it, he just deflected and sulked. I was hoping I'd have better luck getting an answer out of Daniel. Their bromance was the stuff of legends and I was paranoid that I was part of the reason it had been so rocky lately. I felt guilty enough for casually dating Daniel's ex, I couldn't handle having the dissolution of his friendship with Nick on my conscience, too. Daniel meant too much to Nick, and I got the feeling Daniel didn't have many people in his life he could rely on, either.

  When I made it into the town square, it looked like everyone else was already there with the exception of approximately half the Whitaker clan. I found myself wondering how many times Carla had come close to realizing the truth about her husband only to blink and wake up to an entirely different reality, courtesy of compulsion. Just the thought made me nauseous, but at least it also dulled the irrational craving for Nick's mark.

  The town square was lined with booths for every cause imaginable. A few booths were for artists selling their wares, and there was a whole row of food trucks and stalls selling everything that could feasibly be battered and deep fried. I spotted Daniel's booth immediately, if only because it was the only one that wasn't decorated. Leave it to him to take the festive out of festival. When I approached the booth, he was in mid-argument with an older woman who was becoming increasingly agitated.

  "Who do you think you are?" she cried. "Franz is perfectly healthy."