I tried to calm the flush that was forming – not just on my cheeks, but everywhere. There was probably some witch etiquette I didn’t know about involving brooms. Maybe it wasn’t a first-date sort of thing, riding on the back of someone’s broom. It was just as well, I supposed. I mean, I’d probably have to hold on, wouldn’t I? To his waist. I’d probably have to hold on very, very tight.
‘So then I thought I could click my fingers,’ Will went on. ‘Or we could take the company van, because my aunt probably wouldn’t mind if you were the one doing the driving. But that’s not very gentlemanly is it? And you couldn’t have a drink then, could you? So ... yeah. It’s probably either clicking my fingers or walking, I’m afraid. Your choice.’
I followed his words carefully, doing my best to overlook the fact that his aunt’s opinion meant way too much to him. I mean, had he even met the woman? Who in their right mind would give a toss what she thought about anything?
‘We could walk,’ I said. ‘If it’s not too far across the park.’ And also, I avoided adding, if we walked I wouldn’t have to hold his hand the way I’d have to if we travelled via his finger click. Because that would be almost as unbearably and illicitly delicious as wrapping my arms about his waist.
He bit his bottom lip and smiled. ‘It’s not far at all. A walk it is, then.’
≈
It was my first time walking through Luna Park. It was a beautiful evening, and there were dozens of people out. Now that I’d come into my power, it was easy to spot the different types of supernatural.
There were some vampires just coming out of their houses on the north side of the park. There was still a little evening sun, so they were well wrapped up while they mowed the grass and clipped the hedges.
There were some werewolves too. If I’d looked at them a few days’ earlier, I might have thought that they were just some incredibly attractive young men and women, but now I could smell them. It wasn’t that it was a canine smell. Well, there was a bit of that, but most of what I could smell was far more powerful. The werewolves gave off some sort of pheromones that I’d never noticed before. The scent made them even more attractive than their appearances alone might have done. One or two of them could almost give Will a run for his money. Some of them were tending to flower beds and scooping up rubbish, but others were standing at the edge of the park and … I averted my eyes.
‘They’re marking their territory,’ said Will, noticing my shock. ‘I’d forgotten about that, sorry. I don’t walk through this part of the park very often.’
As we neared the east side of the park, I sensed the other witches immediately. It caused a slight burst of panic. If I could sense them, maybe they could sense me. A young female witch looked our way. She smiled at Will and he waved back. It seemed as though she was about to approach us, but her eyes went to my pendant, and she sneered and turned in the other direction.
I might be irritated later on, but right now I was just relieved. People didn’t look past a Pendant of Privilege. If I was beneath even chatting to, I doubted they’d sense that I was now a fully empowered witch. But then another thought occurred. I’d had my power for a few days now. It had come before I ever realised, and no one seemed to have sensed it in me. I filed away a reminder in my mind: ask Mam if witches can sense one another’s power.
There were other supernaturals on the east side of the park, too, all wearing Pendants of Privilege. There were a couple of werewolves and vampires, but mostly the supernaturals who were often classed as other. Weredogs, dayturners, wizards and the unempowered were emptying the bins and tending to the witches’ part of the park. The witches played tennis or cricket, or sat around chatting in the evening sun, paying no attention to the people who were working around them.
‘So … don’t witches have to put in the same minutes as everyone else then?’
Will looked confused, then followed my eyes. ‘Oh … you mean the community maintenance? No, we don’t have to do any of that.’
I raised a brow. ‘And you don’t think that’s a bit unfair?’
‘Not really.’ His confusion seemed to be intensifying. He genuinely had no idea why I was bothered. ‘I mean, you didn’t get to live in the human world for free, did you? You had to pay rent. This is just the same. Better, in fact.’
‘Yeah. For you.’
‘What? Look, I know you’ve spent a lot of time away from our enclaves, but you must know that unfair is the last thing it is. We give a lot to the other supernaturals. We put wards up around their enclaves so they can live in peace. No, we don’t clip the hedges or skim the leaves from the pond or whatever. But we don’t need to. We could maintain this place with the simplest of spells if we wanted to.’
‘So then why don’t you? Why make everyone else clean up your side of the park if you could do it more easily with a spell?’
He sighed. ‘This isn’t going very well, is it? Look, I realise you’ve been living outside of our world for a long time, Wanda. But surely you knew how things were. Witches do so much for the other supernaturals. Things we don’t have to do. You think those houses in Westerly Crescent built themselves? Because they didn’t. Berry Materialization built them, as a matter of fact, under contract to the Wyrd Court. My coven’s company built every single house in Luna Park. Two hundred and forty minutes a month is not a lot to ask in return. And let’s face it, people don’t have to live here if they don’t want to. No one’s twisting their arms. But we’ve made this community for them. We’ve made communities all over the world where supernaturals can live in peace. Is it so much to ask that they keep those communities looking their best?’
I rubbed my arms. The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and I was beginning to feel a chill. I thought back to the times I’d spent in Riddler’s Cove as a child. Even back there, the other supernaturals had done all of the community maintenance. I’d just assumed it was their job, and thought little else about it.
‘I suppose not,’ I said, a little sulkily.
‘Hey.’ He stopped in front of me, rubbing my arms. ‘You’re freezing, Wanda. Do you mind if I do something to make you warm?’
My mouth went dry. ‘Do what, exactly?’
He closed his eyes, mumbled some words, and heat shot out of his hands. I felt it course through me, making me feel like I was sitting in front of a roaring flame.
‘Better now?’
I nodded. ‘Much. And sorry. I’m new to all of this. The way you explained it made it sound a lot fairer than I thought.’
He smiled softly. His hands, I couldn’t help but notice, were still on my arms. ‘That’s okay. And anyway, none of it applies to you. You don’t need to put in any extra minutes outside of your job. You’re one of us now, after all.’
The blood rushed from my body. Had he sensed my power as I’d feared he might? ‘One of … of you?’
‘Yeah. A Berry. Well, maybe not by name but … you work for us. There are perks. Didn’t your housemate explain? Oh, well maybe he didn’t know. After all, there’ve only been weredogs in that house before you, and none of them could ever get a job with us. But for those lucky enough to be employed by the Berrys, there are benefits, Wanda. A lot of them.’ He smiled again. The spell was still working, but I was beginning to feel the sort of icy-cold that no fire in the world could melt. ‘Now come on.’ He grabbed my hand. ‘We’re almost there. You’re going to love my surprise.’
≈
I’d thought the houses in Westerly Crescent were nice, but these ones in Easterly were on a whole different level. They were enormous in comparison to the house I shared with Max. And the house which Will led me to, at the very centre of the road, was the biggest of all. There was a long and winding gravel drive, lined with yew trees. Will rushed along the drive and, whilst I kept up with him, I felt as though I were dragging my feet. I kept thinking of the last words he’d spoken, over and over. Did he really see the weredogs as inferior to the Berrys? I didn’t want to be the sort of girl who fell for an elitis
t jerk.
‘Does the whole coven live here?’ I asked as we approached the front door.
Will snorted. ‘Thank the stars, no. We have a much bigger place in Riddler’s Cove. Most of the coven commutes from there. This is just my folks’ little city pad. My aunt lives at the end of the road. As for my parents, they’re hardly even here these days. Mam’s been in Tibet for the last few months. Dad’s building apartment complexes in a few of the witch enclaves. He spends most of his time working. I have a feeling he’ll move in to one of them once the building work is finished.’
The door opened in front of us with a creak. I half expected to find some towering butler behind it, but I guess Will must have used magic to open it, because there was no one in sight.
‘Well,’ he held out a hand. ‘After you, my lady.’
Taking in a deep breath, I entered the hall. The ceiling was far above me, decorated with golden stars and moons. There was a chandelier in the centre, each of its jewels shining like the evening sun. I suddenly missed my own cosy coven home a great deal.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘the surprise is in my bedroom.’
I expect my face must have told him exactly what I thought about that, because he immediately said, ‘No, it’s not like that. I swear. Come see.’
He led me up the stairs and into a large room at the end of the landing. The wallpaper was painted a pale shade of blue with vertical white stripes. The covers on his four-poster bed were a mix of light and dark blue plaid. The furniture was heavy, dark wood, and there was a plaid patterned carpet underfoot. The room confused me. It was masculine, I supposed, but in a very old-fashioned way. It gave me absolutely no insight into Will’s personality. There were no ornaments, and the paintings on the walls were even more old-fashioned than the furniture.
‘I know.’ Will grimaced. ‘I like wooden floorboards and simple, comfy furniture. But Dad gave Aunt Alice free rein with the decoration. She’s his favourite sister.’
I hid my grimace as best I could. I couldn’t imagine Alice being anyone’s favourite anything. The nicest thing in the room, by far, was an enormous marmalade cat, curled up on one of Will’s pillows.
Will stroked the cat behind his ears, and he purred, jumped up and – after rubbing himself up against my legs in the most delicious of manners – he sauntered out of the room.
‘That’s Fred,’ Will told me. ‘My familiar. I think he likes you. He normally hisses at new people.’
‘He’s lovely. Most of the Wayfairs have cat familiars, too.’
Will laughed wryly. ‘Would you believe, not all the Berrys even have familiars. Alice doesn’t have one. Nor my father.’
‘Probably just as well. I hear some familiars can be very demanding. So … if not to admire your décor, then just what am I here to see, Mr Berry?’
His cheeks grew slightly pink. ‘Oh. Yes. Of course. It’s in my broom cupboard. I’ll show you now.’
He approached a set of double doors in the wall and drew them open. The room beyond was certainly a broom cupboard. It was filled, in fact, with brooms. They lined every wall, carefully positioned upon brackets. There must have been at least a hundred of the things, and each one gleamed. The handles were of different woods, lengths and thicknesses, and the heads were made of varying materials. Some looked incredibly modern and streamlined, but others made use of more natural looking twigs and reeds.
There was one broom, though, that wasn’t sitting on a wall-bracket. It was lying upon a long velvet cushion, on a table in the centre of the room. He gave that broom an awestruck stare. I could completely understand why. This one gleamed in a whole different way to the others. I could feel magic coming off it in waves. And there was something about the taper of the wood, and the twigs that made up the head of the broom. It looked so aerodynamic.
I blinked, moving closer to it, feeling the most unusual sense of sadness. Something about this broom … it brought back a hundred childhood memories that I’d long thought locked away. Saturday mornings in my father’s workshop. Afternoons spent watching him fly.
Will coughed lightly, making me jump. My hand had been on the head of the broom. I snapped it back. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched it.’
He shook his head, a grin on his face. ‘That’s exactly what you should do. Wanda, this is for you. It’s your birthday present.’
I gawped at him. ‘But … Will …’
He approached the table, picked up the broom with careful hands and placed it into my arms.
‘Oh!’ I gasped, feeling a warmth of recognition. It was like holding a long-lost friend.
‘You feel it too, don’t you?’ He grinned. ‘I knew it when I saw this broom. I knew it couldn’t just be me. I mean, I have a hundred brooms that your dad’s company made before he … before he died. I bought this one a couple of days ago. Got it off some weird guy in the tavern in Riddler’s Cove. He told me he found it in some lost and found locker in a Nepalese hotel. I thought … it could be the one, couldn’t it? I mean, no one ever found the broom, did they?’
‘What do you know about my father’s brooms? I mean, you’re what … twenty-four? Twenty-five?’
‘Twenty-four,’ he supplied. ‘And yeah, I was only a kid when he was declared dead after disappearing on the Everest climb. But I was obsessed with his brooms then, and I still am now. When I saw this one for sale, I knew it was special. And I want it to be yours.’
Despite every part of my body screaming against the action, I placed the broom back on its table. ‘I can’t accept this. It’s too much. We barely know one another.’
He reached his hand to mine. ‘Wanda, I know what you’re thinking. That I’m coming on too strong. But trust me, it didn’t cost a fortune. And I won’t see you this Friday at work, what with your exam. I wanted to give you your birthday present now. Please, take it.’
‘Well …’ I hesitated. I’d only known him a few days, and already I felt far too involved. His dubious remarks in the park had set me on edge, but this was bringing me right back there. And I didn’t want to be back there. I didn’t want to be staring into his eyes the way I was doing. I didn’t want my heart to be beating like a drugged-up drummer. ‘Really, Will, it’d be wasted on me. I mean, I’d never be able to fly it, would I?’
Would I? Good Gretel, what a thought. Flying, like I’d always dreamt of. Flying, like my father had done. Flying, on a broom just like his.
Will sighed. ‘I know how you feel about being unempowered, Wanda. I could see it in your eyes the first time we met. You pretend it doesn’t bother you. You pretend you’re happy living as a human. But really, you want to be a witch more than anything in the world.’
I felt my eyes begin to smart. ‘Oh. So it was a pity-hire then, was it? A let’s give the unempowered girl a go sort of hire?’
‘No!’ He looked pleadingly at me. ‘Not at all. Wanda …’ He bit his bottom lip. Why oh why did he have to look so lovely when he did it? Why did I want it to be me biting that lip, nibbling it, sucking on it …? ‘Wanda there’s something I need to tell you. But you have to promise me you won’t repeat it. On your coven’s grimoire, Wanda, you have to swear that you won’t share what I’m about to tell you with another soul.’
I gulped. Swearing on your coven’s grimoire was not a thing one did lightly. It meant swearing on their collective knowledge, power and history. It meant that, if you broke your promise, your coven could lose everything they held dear.
And what if he was about to tell me something juicy about the Berrys? Something that would help the Wayfairs bring them to justice? How could I possibly keep that to myself?
‘That’s a big ask, Will. Especially when I don’t know what it is that you’re about to tell me.’
‘It’s nothing bad, I swear. Well, it is bad to me. But not to anyone else. Oh look, I swear on the Berry grimoire that what I’m about to tell you isn’t anything illegal or bad or … or anything like that. Okay? So now will you swear?’
I studied him careful
ly. Whatever he was about to tell me, it clearly meant a great deal to him. But he’d sworn it was nothing bad. Did I trust him? ‘Fine,’ I relented. ‘I swear on the Wayfair grimoire that I won’t share what you’re about to tell me with another soul.’
Surprisingly, he didn’t look relieved. He paced the room, occasionally stroking one of the brooms as if for comfort. In that moment, he reminded me a little of my father. Except that he was shaking like a leaf, whereas my father had never been a nervous man.
‘Do you want to sit down?’ I asked.
He nodded, and I did a very silly thing. I took his hand in mine, and led him to his bed. Sitting next to him, my hand still resting in his, I felt far too many fluttery feelings.
After a few minutes, he turned to face me. ‘I’m like you, Wanda. Or I almost was. That’s why I wanted to interview you. To get to know you. I recognised your surname on your CV and I knew, I had to give you a chance. When I met you …well, I would have hired you on the spot once I actually met you. Even if you couldn’t add single digits together.’
I felt heat creep along my skin and did my best to ignore it. ‘I don’t understand, Will. You’re not unempowered.’
His hand tightened in mine. ‘I was almost nineteen when I got my power. Before that, I never went to public witching schools. My dad had private tutors teach me and had them sign blood contracts to keep my secret. I learned wizardry from some of them. Practised how to use the elements or to channel from objects of unusual power. I got good enough after a few years to be able to fake having real magic. Then I finally came into my power, and I didn’t have to fake it anymore.’
I brought my eyes to his. Oh dear, this was getting bad. Really, really bad. Any longer and I might do something even stupider than I already had.
A Magical Trio Page 8
