Loved Up

by A. A. Albright

  ‘What’ll it be? Four Superbrews?’

  As tempting as the thought of one of his heady Superbrews was, I decided against it. ‘Make it three,’ I said. ‘I’ll just have an orange juice.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Melissa, arriving beside me, ‘make it two orange juices.’

  Ronan fetched our drinks quickly, but Melissa and I didn’t return to our seats straight away. ‘I want to talk to you,’ I whispered. ‘We’ve both been so busy lately, and there’s something going on that I really want to let you in on.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘It’s you and Gabriel, isn’t it? He’s going to propose tonight!’

  ‘What?’ I took a deep gulp of my orange juice and shook my head. ‘No way. We’ve only been together a few months. It’s about what you were saying. About feeling wiggy. See, the thing is, I’ve been feeling wiggy too. Melissa, I think–’

  My voice trailed off as I realised she had long stopped listening to me. The Call of the Wild were arriving on a small stage in the corner of the tavern, and her eyes were affixed on Mack McAdams, the singer.

  ‘It’s going to be a short one this afternoon, folks,’ Mack said in a sultry voice. ‘Because we all know that tonight is a full moon, and me and the boys have places we like to be on full moons.’

  Behind him, the other band members howled. Jasper Jaunt, the bass player, stepped towards the microphone. ‘But if any ladies are brave enough to join us, you’ll be very welcome.’

  I put my fingers to my mouth, mimicking throwing up. Melissa didn’t even notice. She’d gone all gooey, because while Jasper was speaking, Mack McAdams was looking her way. I sighed. One of these days the two of them were going to do more than just look at one another. For the sake of my eyeballs, I hoped it would be soon.

  After a few more words from the werewolf rockers, the music began to play. Max arrived at the bar beside me, with Emily Caulfield pasted to his side.

  ‘You’re not supposed to be together yet!’ Ronnie shouted over. ‘Get over to the blokes’ side of the bar, Max, and leave poor Emily alone!’

  Max went bright red, gave me a sheepish shrug, and loped away to join my father and a few other Wayfair men at a table on the men’s side of the bar.

  ‘Thanks for collecting Max from Dublin,’ I said to Emily. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’m not staying long. And of course I was going to collect him, silly. I am his girlfriend.’

  I blinked, looking over at Max. Ever since he and Emily shared their first kiss during the Masked Ball at Winter Solstice, he had been telling me that he liked her, but he didn’t like her like her. Max seemed to think that being with anyone who wasn’t the one was a waste of time. I gave Emily an uneasy smile, hoping to the goddess that she knew she wasn’t the one. Because as much as I loved Max, if he was leading her on, then I wasn’t going to play along.

  ‘I hope he comes to my house tonight,’ she said, moving closer to me. ‘I mean, yeah, he’ll be a dog and everything, but still ... it’ll mean something. Won’t it?’

  I took another drink of my juice while I thought of how the hell to reply to her question.

  ‘I wouldn’t read too much into it, either way,’ said Melissa. ‘Weredogs aren’t as different from werewolves as the two would like us to believe. They both go a bit wild at full moon. If he doesn’t turn up, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.’

  Emily’s smile fell away. ‘You don’t think he’ll turn up, do you?’

  ‘I ... I’m not saying that.’ Melissa’s green eyes rounded. ‘I’m not saying that at all. Am I, Wanda?’

  Way to throw me under the bus, Melissa. I turned to Emily and smiled brightly. Her big blue eyes looked so sad, bless her. She really was a cutie pie. She was a couple of years older than Max (she was twenty-five to his twenty-two) but as far as I knew he’d been the first guy she’d taken an interest in. ‘Of course Melissa’s not saying Max won’t turn up. She’s just saying it’s full moon tonight, that’s all. Last full moon – the wolf moon – Max didn’t even come home to sleep during the day. All of these supermoons have the dogs and wolves behaving a little wilder than usual.’

  I was stretching the truth a little. Max had returned home during the day over the course of the wolf moon at the beginning of the month. Just a little bit later, and a lot more dishevelled than he might normally return. And after the third night, he’d returned home with a black eye. He wouldn’t tell me how he got it, but he would let me use a magical cream to fade the bruise away.

  ‘Well, he’s spending this full moon here in Riddler’s Cove, where I live,’ Emily said brightly. ‘That means something. I know it does. Things with me and Max are going so well. I mean, he’s been putting off making it official because he’s worried about the way the vote will go on the fourteenth. But I keep telling him I don’t care. No one cares anymore, do they? I’ve seen Finn sniffing around Max’s cousin, and he’s a Peacemaker. If the people who uphold the laws don’t care about them, then why should me and Max?’

  As if on cue, Lassie – Max’s cousin – walked into the tavern with Finn, the captain of the Peacemakers, close behind. They both came to the bar.

  Emily prodded Finn in the arm. ‘You don’t care which way the vote goes, do you, Finn? You and Lassie will stay together, either way, won’t you?’

  Somehow, Finn managed to go only mildly pink, while Lassie’s cheeks began to flame. I really wished Emily wouldn’t have asked that question. First of all, I was feeling incredibly tense about the fourteenth. We weren’t just voting for who would be the next Minister for Magical Law. We were also voting on whether supernaturals known as others – weredogs, wizards, umempowered witches and dayturning vampires – would finally be granted equal rights.

  Second of all, Lassie and Finn probably didn’t enjoy being asked about their relationship status.

  ‘Me and Lassie aren’t a couple, actually,’ Finn said. ‘But as for the vote on Equal Rights for Others? Of course I care what way it goes. If people vote against it, there’ll be riots.’

  ‘There’ll be riots either way,’ said Emily. ‘At the end of the day, people can do what they want, law or no law. If I want to be with Max, no one has the right to tell me otherwise.’

  She wasn’t wrong about the riots. But I had the feeling that if the supernaturals known as others didn’t get granted equal rights on the fourteenth, then the riots were going to be much bigger than if they won.

  ‘Sure there’ll be riots either way,’ said Finn, before going on to echo my thoughts. ‘But the thing about this vote, is that weredogs, wizards, dayturners and unempowered witches are being gracious in letting it happen at all. They don’t have to be as patient as they’re being. If they don’t get equal rights, then they’re going to stop playing by the rules. And if that happens, I know I won’t be arresting them for rioting. I’ll be joining them on the streets. Marching with them to the Wyrd Court. I’ll be with the others all the way.’

  Lassie looked up at Finn, her eyes shining with admiration. She stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. When she moved away again, Finn’s complexion finally lost the fight, and he turned bright red.

  ‘I will too,’ said Melissa. ‘Be joining the riots, I mean. If it comes to that.’ She squeezed Lassie’s hand. ‘But y’know what? I don’t think it will come to that.’

  I was just about to add my own words of hope, when all the lights went out.

  2. Someone’s Punched Her Lights Out

  I extended a finger and whispered, ‘Solas.’

  Nothing happened.

  All around the room, I could hear witches pull out fingers and wands, trying the same simple light spell at which I had just failed miserably.

  As the tavern remained in total darkness, voices rose in panic. I could hear people shouting and tripping over each other as they rushed to the doors. When someone shouted, ‘The doors are locked!’ the panic got worse.

  Beside me, I heard Melissa’s voice whisper, ‘This
isn’t right, Wanda. Something’s going on here.’

  I fought the urge to gulp. Melissa was right. No spells worked. All of the electric lights had gone out – but so too had every single candle in Three Witches Brew. I ran to where I knew the closest window was, and gazed out at the street. All of the bonfires had stopped burning. The sun was close to setting, which would mean the whole town would be in darkness while we were trapped in this tavern.

  Beside me, a small flame flickered to life. ‘Lighter,’ Lassie explained. ‘Weredogs have to light their fires and candles the old–fashioned way. Will this be any help?’

  ‘You’re a goddess send, Lassie,’ I said with a worried grin, taking the lighter she offered and lighting a candle on the bar beside me. As the candle flared to life, I stood up on the bar beside it (hey, when you’re short like me, you’ve got to come up with creative ways to attract attention). ‘Listen up!’ I cried out. ‘It seems like only magical light has gone out. The electricity in town is powered by magic, and all of the candles in here and the bonfires outside were lit with spells. I’m going to go around and relight all the candles with this handy, practical lighter, given to me by my friend Lassie. Anyone else who has a lighter on them, do the same. Once we can actually see each other, then we can start to figure out what’s going on here.’

  The non-witches in the tavern fished about in their pockets. Some had lighters. Others had torches. Within a few minutes, the whole place was lit up once again.

  ‘Brilliant,’ said my mother, clapping Lassie on the back. ‘Takes someone who’s not a witch to come up with a sensible solution, as usual.’ She looked at me. ‘We need to figure out what’s going on here. The sun will be going down soon. If no magic works, then this place is a ticking time bomb. Werewolves, weredogs and vampires all trapped together on full moon? Not to mention a bunch of power-sapped witches who are definitely not going to be able to calm things down.’

  Other Wayfairs began to join us, all chattering and offering suggestions about what could be done. Just as we stopped talking over each other and began to get things organised, the lights all turned back on.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Melissa, extending a finger and saying, ‘Solas.’ A ball of light emanated, bright and beautiful, and floated a few inches from her hand. ‘Thank the goddess,’ she whispered.

  I tried my own magic. Like Melissa’s, it was working once again. Melissa ran to the door, and checked it. ‘It’s open,’ she said. ‘So I guess we’re not all going to kill each other come sundown.’

  All around the tavern, witches were trying out their magic, looks of relief on their faces. It was a relief, however, that had a pretty short lifecycle. Just as people were giggling, practising spells and beginning to sip at their drinks again, a voice screamed through the tavern, ‘Oh my stars! It’s Nancy! Someone’s punched her lights out!’

  Along with Finn, my mother and I fought our way through the crowd. Witches at the Berry coven’s table were all gathered around a young woman – perhaps in her late twenties or so. She was splayed against a back door of the tavern, her dirty-blonde hair messed up, both eyes swollen.

  The woman closest to her was Sylvia Berry, Will’s mother. She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. ‘She has no pulse, Wanda. I think she’s ...’

  I gently nudged Will’s mother out of the way, and felt for the young woman’s pulse. There was nothing. ‘Her name is Nancy?’ I asked.

  Sylvia nodded. ‘She’s ... she was ... my niece. Harry’s daughter.’

  As she spoke, Will arrived. His eyes went to Nancy first, and then to me. He looked distraught, but beneath his shock and upset, there was something else. Anger?

  Behind me, I could hear my mother on the phone, calling in reinforcements, while Ronnie and Finn were already clearing people away and examining the body. I led Will and his mother away, so that Ronnie and Finn could get on with their not-so-enjoyable task.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ I said. ‘Do either of you know what happened?’

  Will’s mother shook her head, while Will said in a choked-up voice, ‘I was at the other side of the tavern.’ As he spoke, Mandy Parker, his fiancée, rushed to his side and placed her hand in his. I couldn’t help but notice that he looked slightly irritated by the action. Grief did funny things to people, though. Sometimes human contact wasn’t what you needed.

  ‘I thought I heard a weird, grunty noise,’ Mandy said. ‘But everyone was screaming and panicking when the lights went out. It was horrible. I mean, I couldn’t even do a Solas spell!’

  Sylvia’s nostrils flared. ‘Poor you.’ She turned away from Mandy, and looked at me. ‘My son’s fiancée is right. All of the women at our table were in panic mode. It was a mess over here. Everyone was moving around, bumping into each other, shouting and crying. No one saw it happen, according to them. And anyone could have done it. Although I can’t think why. Nancy was popular.’

  Some other Berry coven members, standing a short distance beyond, nodded and murmured their agreement. As they reiterated exactly how popular Nancy Berry was, the skin on my arms began to prick up, and an unsettling sense of déjà vu took over. Another recent murder investigation had involved an incredibly popular woman. If that case had taught me anything, it was that you didn’t need to be a horrible person to make enemies. You just needed to be in someone’s way.

  ‘Doesn’t matter how popular Nancy was,’ Will said bleakly. ‘Our coven has enemies. A lot of them.’ He met my eyes and said, ‘I think someone killed Nancy to send a message. To tell us to be careful at the election.’

  I noticed him wince as Mandy squeezed his hand. Judging by the tense expression on her face, I doubted Mandy was squeezing him as a motion of comfort. She wanted him to shut up. But why? Was it because she didn’t like what he was saying, or simply because he was a little bit drunk?

  ‘Wanda doesn’t need to hear your crackpot conspiracy theories,’ Mandy went on. ‘Especially not when you’re as drunk as a skunk!’

  I looked at him more carefully. Most of the men and women in Three Witches Brew this afternoon were merry. It was normal to have a few celebratory drinks during our festivals – and Imbolc was in the top four. But whilst Will didn’t seem any more inebriated than the others, he definitely didn’t seem as merry.

  I thought of how often I’d seen him with a drink in his hand. One great big regretful example of this worrying trend had happened at the Masked Ball in December. When I realised it was Will I was kissing, and not my boyfriend, I had been all set to skedaddle. But Will had been drunk and stupid enough to have other ideas. He had grabbed onto my arm to stop me from leaving.

  I searched his eyes. Yeah, he was drunk then, and yeah, he was drunk now. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have anything important to say. And whilst I might have wanted to get as far away from him as possible, this was an investigation – bruised hearts didn’t come into it.

  I finally pulled my eyes away from Will’s and looked pointedly at Mandy. ‘I need to speak to Will alone,’ I told her. ‘As head of the coven, I think he’s best placed to answer any questions I have. You’ll be questioned too, in due course.’

  She scowled at me, looking me up and down. Just when it seemed like she might be about to stamp her feet, Will’s mother said, ‘You heard what Wanda said. Come over here and sit with me while we wait for our turn to be questioned.’

  Mandy let out a little whine, but pulled her hand from Will’s. I guessed that she didn’t want to argue with her future mother-in-law.

  I led Will to one of the quieter booths, doing my best not to stare at him as he slid in across from me. Normally I would take in every expression of all of the people at a murder scene. But Will ... Will was hard to look at, these days.

  ‘Your coven has some seats on the College Board,’ I said, getting straight to the point.

  For a moment I thought he was going to attempt to steer the conversation to other things. He certainly seemed to be trying to catch my eye. But to his credit, he reco
gnised the severity of the situation, and answered my question directly.

  ‘Yup,’ he said quietly. ‘And as temporary head of the coven, I’m the unlucky man who gets to hold one of those seats. You know about the College Board?’

  ‘I sure do,’ I replied with a sigh.

  ‘A lot of these old guys think it’ll be just like the last election,’ Will went on. ‘Agatha won the popular vote back then, just not by enough, so they got to slide Justine Plimpton into the role. This time, they want to do just the same. Darrell Plimpton isn’t going to win the popular vote, but he might get enough votes that it leaves the real decision up to the College Board. And things are neck and neck right now, as far as the board are concerned. Half of them are all for Darrell, and the other half are on Agatha’s side. My vote will wind up being the only one that matters.’

  I narrowed my eyes. ‘And how are you going to vote, if it does come down to a College Board decision?’

  He looked straight at me, smiling wanly. ‘I’m going to vote for Agatha. Even after this latest warning. I have to say, it’s their most serious yet.’

  ‘Their? You’re saying that members of the College Board have been trying to influence you? You think they’re behind Nancy’s death?’

  His face contorted with pain. ‘Yeah. I do. So far they’ve attempted to bribe me – as though I don’t have enough money as it is. They’ve threatened me, too, because a couple of them are also on the parole board at Witchfield. They’ve said they can make sure my dad and aunt never get out if I don’t vote the way they want.’

  Okay, so now I couldn’t not look at him. ‘I don’t understand. If these people could help cut your dad’s and your aunt’s sentences, then why in Hecate’s name would you vote for Agatha?’

  He moved his eyes down, staring at his hands. ‘You know I wanted Justine Plimpton out of power just as much as you did, Wanda. I’m not going to let another Plimpton slide in and take her place. I would have run in the election myself, but you have to be at least twenty-six. Which I won’t be until May.’