What's a Witch to Do?: A Midnight Magic Mystery

by Jennifer Harlow

  “I don’t want him to leave,” she whines.

  I bite my lower lip. “He has a life, sweetie. He has a job, and friends, and a home he needs to get back to.”

  “He won’t leave,” Sophie says with certainty. “He promised he’d film the pageant.”

  “Honey, I can film it,” I say.

  “I know, but he promised. He won’t leave until then,” she says with finality. She pauses, and then asks, “We really can’t watch TV for a month?” I shake my head no. “That sucks.”

  “Language!”

  The rest of the ride not a word is uttered. As the miles pass I grow more and more apprehensive, and by the time we pull into the driveway, my whole body might as well be made of stone. All the lights are off. No life inside. He must have called a taxi to the train station. Damn it. I start playing with my hair. I don’t want to go into that house. I know I’m not going to like what I find in there. The girls have no such worries. Getting a second wind, they leap out and run to the door like race cars. I pull my wrecked body upright and slowly amble toward the door, unlocking it.

  Cora squeezes in before it’s all the way open, shouting, “Adam?”

  I turn on the foyer light with a sigh. No noise except us. Cora stomps up the stairs shouting his name. I set down my purse as Sophie moves into the dark living room and kitchen. Cora stops shouting. The silence is maddening. That’s when it hits me like a two by four. He really left. He’s gone. A wave of sadness ripples through me. He wouldn’t. No. He promised. He—

  “What kind of flowers did you imagine?”

  I inhale a ragged breath. I must have stopped breathing. Hell’s bells.

  Adam and Cora walk onto the landing, both smiling. “Roses and daisies. My dress has daisies on it too.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.” He looks down at me. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I squeak. Oh thank you goddess. Thank you.

  Sophie comes into the foyer with a glass of water. “Told you not to worry. I knew he’d be here.”

  “Yes, you did,” I say with a little laugh. “Okay, um, it’s bedtime. Showers, pajamas, bed. Big day tomorrow. Go on.”

  Sophie treads up the stairs, and as she passes Adam, he ruffles her hair before walking down to me. “You were worried?”

  “Not really,” I say with bravado.

  “I’m not going to lie, I almost left,” he says. “Vivian talked me down though.”

  “You called Jason’s wife?”

  “Yeah. Needed a woman’s perspective. She convinced me to stick it out, at least until the Saturday deadline.”

  Goddess bless that woman. “Well, it’s your choice,” I say. “We’re glad to have you until then. Excuse me.” I turn my back on him and start up the steps.

  “We need to talk,” he says when I’m halfway up. “About us.”

  And my happiness buzz is swatted away. I stop, groan, and spin around. “Can it please wait until tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”

  “No, I’ve put it off long enough.”

  I sigh. Great. “Okay, fine.” I take a step down. “We had sex, big whoop. I take full responsibility for what happened. I didn’t really mean to turn you into my sex toy like you said, but I’m not sorry about it either. It was wonderful. You are phenomenal in bed, but I don’t expect anything from you. I know you’re leaving soon, and it was a one-off, and—”

  “I’m in love with you,” he states as fact.

  Did he … what?

  My mouth snaps shut like a bear trap, and my eyes bug out of my head. He just stands there as if waiting for a damn bus. How the hell can he just act as if those words never happened? A trillion thoughts run through my mind in a flash, and I can’t keep them straight. “What—you—no—what?” I stammer. He’s in love. With me. Me. No way. No …

  The shock wears off, and one thought pushes through. My shoulders slump. Of course. “Oh damn. Not again.” I take a step down. “Did one of the girls give you a piece of jewelry or something to drink right before you started feeling this way? Because—”

  “I’ve been in love with you for eighteen years. Since the moment I saw you. You’re my mate.”

  I’m his … werewolves have an evolutionary advantage when it comes to love. When they meet “the one” they instantly know it. Call it pheromones or magic, but they just know. I’m his mate. For some reason this thought makes me dizzy.

  “What? No. No. You—you hated me. You avoided me like the plague whenever I got near you.”

  He takes a step toward me. “I avoided you because it was the only way for me to control myself around you.” He steps. “I avoided you because the only other alternative was for me to pin you against the wall and screw you senseless.”

  “But—but I had braces, and pimples, and … no. No.”

  He steps onto the stairs, gazing up at me with fierce determination. “I have loved you since I first saw you, and that love has grown and grown through the years so that … I can barely stand it anymore. I love you. It isn’t a spell, it isn’t a figment of my imagination, it is a stone cold fact. I love you.”

  I can’t move or even blink. I’m paralyzed. I have no idea what to say or do, or, hell, even feel. Because I believe him. “Why—why didn’t you say something?” I whisper.

  For the first time, he looks away. “Because. Couple reasons, I guess. The first being you barely knew I was alive. I was just one of Jason’s werewolves you saw a couple times a year then forgot about.”

  “If you had talked to me, maybe asked me out, that might have changed,” I point out.

  “I know that. I thought about it every time I knew I was going to see you. I’d psych myself up saying, ‘This time. This is the time I tell her.’ Then I’d talk myself out of it.”

  “Why?” I ask shrilly.

  “My second reason.” He looks up at me again, face a little angry. “I can’t be with you.”

  These words are like an icicle to my heart. “You—why—why not?”

  “You’re a witch. A powerful witch. If we mated, our children would be considered hybrids by pack law. They’re considered a threat to the pack. I’d have to leave it, go rogue, and I wasn’t ready to do that. It was too big a gamble.”

  “‘Was?’” I ask, my voice cracking.

  He takes a step up, then looks me square in the eyes. “We heard about the threat to you, and I … lost it. I took off, didn’t even wait for my Alpha’s approval. You were in danger, and that was all that mattered.”

  “You could have died. You were tortured!”

  “And you patched me up.”

  “And last night?”

  “I don’t know what it meant to you, but … ” He shrugs. “It was better than I ever imagined. And I imagined it a lot,” he chuckles. The laughs subside a second later. This is no laughing matter, not to me. “Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing to me!” I all but shout. Eighteen years of experiences and looks and … hell’s bells. “So it’s me or the pack?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wh—what about dating? We can’t even date?”

  “Mona, you’re my mate. Werewolves mate for life. I can’t just date you then walk away. I’m not a masochist.”

  “I can’t … this, this is too much to process. I—I don’t know what to say or do or … ”

  “You don’t have to say or do anything. I just, I had to tell you. Just … just once. You don’t have to say anything back. I just thought … hell, I don’t know what I thought. Never mind.” Without looking at me, he walks up the stairs and I step to the side to let him pass. His shoulder brushes against mine, and I freeze up. “Excuse me,” he says.

  I can’t let him leave like this. “Adam?” I ask. He turns around, face slack in misery. My heart all but snaps in two for him. “What happens Saturday?”

  “That’s the day I have to decide. Either I stay here, or I go back and never see you again.”

  “Oh,” I more groan than say. “And will—will you stay until then?”

  His
eyes burrow into mine, down to my soul. “Do you want me to?”

  I hesitate, my heart pounding so fast, then whisper, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  The briefest of smiles passes over his face. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Mona.” And he turns around and walks to his bedroom without another syllable.

  My legs finally give out when I hear his door shut. I slump onto the stairs, just staring into space, my mind reeling. No complex thought is able to form in my brain except those three words: He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. “Hell’s bells,” I whisper.

  A laugh escapes, then another, then they won’t stop. I don’t have a clue why I’m cackling like a witch on meth, but I can’t stop. I guess the sheer insanity of it all. All of it. The demon, Guy, Cheyenne, eighteen years of unrequited love, hell, throw in five hundred dollars for tires. I mean, five hundred dollars? That’s highway robbery! I laugh harder.

  I don’t know how long I’m on those stairs laughing, but I don’t stop until Cora, wrapped in a towel, touches my shoulder. “Aunt Mona, why are you laughing?”

  I pull her into a hug, holding her as if she were a life raft. “Oh, sweetie, because life is so freaking ridiculous.”

  FRIDAY TO DO:

  Continue working at festival

  Work

  Attend pageant

  Start agendas for co-op meetings tomorrow

  Finish store renovation

  Keep investigating, if possible

  Send reminder e-mail about meetings

  EXHAUSTION SAVED ME AROUND midnight from analyzing eighteen years of memories and inventorying my feelings. I came up with nothing but a headache. The alarm buzzes at seven and my eyes fly open. I pull my body out of bed and into the bathroom. After taking great pains to put on makeup and tame my hair, I guess for the werewolf who loves me, I go to wake up the girls but they’re not in their room and neither is Adam. His bedroom door is open. There are clothes strewn everywhere, and the covers on the bed are in a tangle. He had a fitful night. The smell of eggs draws me into the kitchen, where the girls sit at the table chewing on toast while Adam stands with his back to me at the stove. He loves me …

  “Morning,” he says, still cooking. “Omelet’ll be done in a minute. Can you get the ketchup?”

  “Uh, sure,” I practically whisper. Not taking my eyes off him, I pour myself coffee and get the ketchup, but he doesn’t look back. “You girls, uh, sleep well?” I ask as I sit.

  “I guess,” Sophie says.

  “Eggs!” Adam says as he turns, skillet in hand. “There’s cheese and peppers in here. Hope that’s okay.” He dishes it out, the whole time smiling pleasantly at us. When it’s my turn, I feel a blush reddening my cheeks. His smile never wavers even as he sits across from me. I quickly smile and look down at my plate. “What do you think?”

  “It’s yummy,” Cora says.

  It is. “Thank you for making breakfast again,” I say.

  “My pleasure,” he says before turning his attention to Sophie. “Are you excited for tonight? The pageant?”

  “I guess,” she says with her usual enthusiasm.

  “I want to ride the Ferris wheel,” Cora says to Adam. “Will you take me?”

  Adam chuckles. “We’ll see. I don’t really like heights.”

  “You don’t? I didn’t know that,” I say.

  “Well, there’s a lot about me you don’t know,” he says with a grin.

  I gaze down at my plate and clear my throat. “No rides for either of you. Consider it part of your punishment.”

  “Really?” Cora whines. “Can I at least get cotton candy? Play games?”

  I feel someone cross the psychic barrier out front, so I stand. “We’ll see. Excuse me.” I reach the front door the moment there’s a knock. “Who is it?”

  “George Black.”

  Oh. The F.R.E.A.K.S. have arrived. About damn time. I open the door just as Adam and the girls walk in. Dr. George Black, Ph.D., stands on my porch with two serious-looking men in dark suits behind him, one with olive skin and the other with a scar in his eyebrow. I don’t know exactly how old George is, but in the twenty odd years I’ve known him, he’s barely changed. He’s still painfully thin with gray hair cut like a helmet, tan skin, and an always perfectly pressed suit. He is a sight for sore eyes.

  “Uh, hi,” I say.

  “Aunt Mona?” Sophie asks.

  “It’s okay. It’s, uh, the police. Come in.” Better late than never. As they walk in, I notice the girls move behind then press themselves against Adam. “Want some coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” the agent with the scar says.

  “Girls, go get your breakfast and take it upstairs. Get ready for school.”

  “Go on,” Adam whispers to them. Not taking her narrowed eyes off the men, Sophie clasps Cora’s hand and leads her to the kitchen. Adam walks toward us. “Well, gentlemen. Took you long enough to get here.”

  “It turned out there was another wraith,” George says. “The team just finished late last night and had to re-supply before we flew here.”

  I start walking to the kitchen and the men follow. The girls pass us with their heads down and plates out. “And we thank you for coming,” I say. “We’ve hit a wall.” As I fill up the coffee cups and dispense them, I update them on the too-few developments since Wednesday night. “So we know it’s her, but we can’t prove it.”

  “We’ll see what we can dig up,” Olive skin says. “We’ll need a list of her friends, family, boyfriends, and so on.”

  “Then she’ll know we’re after her,” Adam points out. “That’s exactly what we’ve been trying to avoid.”

  “We’ll be as discreet as possible, but at this point it’s unavoidable,” Scar says. “We have been in touch with your local police, and they have her under surveillance as of this morning. If she comes near you we’ll know it.”

  George pats my hand. “Don’t you worry. We’ve done this a thousand times.”

  Adam gulps the rest of his coffee. “Excuse me. I’m going to check on the girls.” He leaves the cup on the counter and walks out.

  “We may need you both on the takedown,” Olive Skin says. “Think you can handle that?”

  “It would be my great pleasure,” I say honestly.

  “You’re sure the demon’s dead?” the other agent asks.

  “She’s gone. Do you guys fight a lot of demons?”

  “Not often,” George answers. “Last one was nine years ago. If you ever want a job … ”

  “I have several,” I say with a smile before standing. “Alright, let me get the girls to the bus, and then I’ll get you that list. Make yourselves at home.” I leave the F.R.E.A.K.S. in my kitchen to fend for themselves and run upstairs. I feel a little better knowing they’re here. If they can’t nail her, nobody can. Adam closes the girls’ door as I step into the hall. “They getting ready?”

  “Yeah. You should probably talk to them. They’re afraid those guys are here to arrest them for the love charm. I told them they weren’t, but it’d be better coming from you.”

  I stop walking as I get a few feet away. That’s close enough for now. “Okay. I will. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says. “What now?”

  I shrug. “We let them do their thing. Help when asked, I guess.”

  He takes a small step toward me. “And … what about me? What do I do?”

  You could kiss me. “What?”

  “Well, your backup’s here. You have several bodyguards. No need for me to stay.”

  “I … ” I don’t know what to say. The thought of him leaving literally makes me sick to my stomach. “You—you promised you’d stay for the pageant. And my store is still a mess. You can’t just leave it like that. You’re not going anywhere.” I nod and start walking past him. “Excuse me.”

  “Mona?”

  “Yes?”

  He grabs my wrist, spins me around, and pulls me toward him. I smash into his body, and before I
stop moving, his lips are on mine. I’m surprised at first, but that lasts less than a blink. All of me grows gloriously warm and my knees go wobbly as we kiss. Just as soon as it began, he moves away, leaving a vacuum in his wake. Lips still parted, I look up through my lashes to his smiling face.

  “Whatever you say,” he says before kissing my nose. “Don’t just stand there. We’re going to be late.” He steps toward his room, shutting the door behind himself.

  I don’t move for a few seconds, not until the feel of him on my lips vanishes. So much for pretending. I shuffle to my bedroom and quietly shut the door, resting my back against it with a sigh. A demon attack I can apparently handle, but a quick kiss from the man who loves me discombobulates me to the point where I can barely think. Those lips are dangerous. They make a lady forget herself and all logic, something this lady cannot afford to do.

  But boy do I want to.

  Go to work

  The squad is hard at work making a case. As I help customers, at least twice I see one or more men in suits I recognize driving or walking down Courtland Street. I only know this because I can’t stop gazing out the window; the alternative view is far more distracting. The shelves are almost up, and I finish painting the window so I can keep my back to Adam as much as possible. The few times I’ve caught him gazing at me, or vice versa, our eyes lingered. I’m always the first to look away, embarrassed by the thoughts running through my head. We don’t say a word, not a syllable since the squad left the house. The ride here was unbearable. I think he’s waiting for me to make the next move. When I know what that is, I’ll let him know.

  Billie is running late, which means I’m running late too. Magda and her committee cronies are going to give me hell. With the window done, I flip through Cosmo impatiently as Adam puts up the last shelf. I glance up to see him smiling with self-satisfaction. I don’t think I’ve seen a man who smiles so often, and each one of them is so full of glee and earnestness. A cock-eyed optimist. I guess people are attracted to their opposite. “Good job,” I say. “It looks great.”

  He turns, and the smile grows. “Thank you. Is there anything else that needs fixing? I already took care of the floorboards and sink in the back.”