Loved Up

by A. A. Albright

  Melissa rushed from her chair and pressed her nose against the small windowpane next to the back door. ‘Do you think it’s anyone we know?’

  I looked out. ‘That’s not a werewolf.’ I felt my forehead begin to wrinkle. I’d know that shaggy brown dog anywhere. ‘That’s Max.’

  I was just about to comment on how strange it was to see Max out there, when two more shifters arrived. This time, they were werewolves. Max was circling around the house, out of sight when they arrived. They began to pace up and down by the back door.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ I said. ‘I’m guessing that the enormous black one is Callum Cool. But what about the even bigger one? The lighter-coloured one who manages to have a confident strut to his walk, even as a werewolf?’

  Melissa cleared her throat but didn’t stop staring out. ‘No idea,’ she said in the most unconvincing voice I’d ever heard.

  ‘Sure you don’t,’ I replied, laughing. ‘I think it’s romantic – even werewolves know how to woo when Imbolc comes around. Oh, and they know how to fight, too.’ The two wolves had just begun to snarl at each other, and were soon advancing to lunging with bared teeth. ‘Should we do something about that?’

  ‘What? Like throw a bucket of water over them? What do you think I am – the werewolf whisperer?’

  I giggled. ‘I can think of a couple of werewolves who wouldn’t mind you whispering sweet nothings. Hey ... I think Max is coming back.’

  Melissa pushed me aside, her cheeks beginning to grow pink. Okay, so that was odd – why did her cheeks turn pink the second I uttered Max’s name? ‘You’re right,’ she said, with a strange gulping quality to her voice. ‘Max is back.’

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ I pulled her over to the window on the other side of the door. ‘I’ve just realised that we’re fighting to look out a tiny window when there’s a bigger window a few feet away from it. I guess that’s why we’re Wayfairs – because of our awesome skills of observation.’

  Melissa laughed weakly, staring out through the bigger window. Max was barking at the two werewolves, chasing them away.

  ‘Maybe he feels like it’s his territory or something,’ I suggested. ‘I mean, me and him spend as much time here in Wayfarers’ Rest as we do in our own house. I’m afraid if we keep looking out, we might see him marking the boundary line.’

  A shiver rippled over Melissa. ‘Maybe we will. Wow. Isn’t he brave, taking on two werewolves all by himself? Do you think ... do you think he could have done it for me?’

  I pulled away from the window, staring at her. An unusual feeling was beginning to invade. I was irritated with Melissa’s words, but I couldn’t figure out why. I searched my mind for viable reasons. Ah. Emily. Emily was as good a reason as any as to why I was annoyed. ‘I hope not,’ I said. ‘I mean, what about poor Emily Caulfield? Female solidarity, Melissa – we must never snag the man who is loved by another witch. And she is nuts about him.’

  ‘True,’ Melissa agreed. ‘Although I have to say, Max is a bit of a dish, isn’t he? I mean, has he always been this ... y’know ... yummy?’

  I stared out at Max, then back at Melissa. ‘Yummy? You’ve never liked guys like Max. I like guys like Max. All tall and scruffy-haired with great big teeth and kind brown eyes.’

  ‘His eyes really are kind, aren’t they?’ said Melissa, practically swooning. ‘Sooo brown and big and deep and kind.’

  ‘They really are,’ I agreed, feeling an odd flurry in my belly. What in Hecate’s name was that about? Sure, Max was gorgeous, and perfect, and would probably be the ideal guy if he didn’t happen to be my platonic friend. But he was my friend. And only my friend. Friends didn’t usually send my belly all a-flutter. ‘Oh, cat in a hat! Gabriel’s coming.’

  I pointed to the sky, where my boyfriend was flying his broom towards the house. As he tried to land, Max snapped at the broom and Gabriel wavered. Max kept right on snapping until Gabriel fell to the ground.

  I gulped and went to the door. ‘Max!’ I cried. ‘It’s only Gabe. It’s all right.’

  Max looked at me, then glared at Gabriel and growled. For a moment I worried that he was going to stand his ground, but with a high-pitched whimper he turned away, tail between his legs, and left the garden.

  Gabriel ran into the house, examining his broom for damage. ‘Jeez Louise! What the hell did Max think he was doing? Maybe I do have something to be jealous of, after all.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Melissa, saving my vegetarian bacon. ‘Everyone knows Max and Wanda are totally platonic. He just had a fight with a couple of werewolves, that’s all. It’s the blue blood moon, like I keep telling everyone. It’s driving everyone around the bend. So ... is there a reason you’re calling on my stunningly beautiful coven sister at the beginning of Imbolc, Mr Godbody?’

  Gabriel looked at me, blushing. ‘Well ... as much as I would love to propose to Wanda, I don’t think she’s quite there yet. So I guess I just called in to make sure she knows how crazy I am about her.’ He reached into his backpack, and pulled out a bunch of early daffodils. ‘I know I already gave you some, but I just can’t stop getting you things. You did get the presents I left in your room?’

  I nodded, kissing him briefly on the cheek. As soon as my body met his, a rush of warmth travelled through me, followed by tummy flutters. Aha! That was why my tummy was feeling all funny a minute ago. It was because I was hoping Gabriel would show up. That was all it was. Nothing to do with Max. Not in the slightest.

  ‘Thanks. It was great. I’m afraid it’s all gone, though – in case you were hoping to share. I wish I could say it was because I shared it with the rest of the coven, but ... what can I say? You’re in like with a greedy monster.’

  ‘Wow.’ He let out a low whistle. ‘You ploughed through all of that by yourself? I’m impressed. And just so you know – you might be a greedy monster, but you’re the most beautiful greedy monster I’ve ever seen.’ He leaned closer, and whispered, ‘And who knows? Maybe by next Imbolc you’ll fully belong to me.’

  5. The Morning After What?

  The next morning I woke up feeling incredibly disagreeable. You know that morning after sort of disagreeable? Except in my case, there hadn’t been much of a night before. I ended up sending Gabriel home less than an hour after he arrived, because the noises that I could hear coming from my parents’ bedroom were putting me off the idea of making noises of my own.

  To be fair, my conscience might have had a little to do with kicking Gabriel out early, too. Spying on his father wasn’t the only reason I was going out with him, but every now and then (usually when our lips were locked) a question would pop into my mind. I’d ask myself: how do you really feel about Gabriel?

  Myself could never quite decide.

  But I must like him, mustn’t I? I went all funny whenever he was near. I could barely think straight when he took my hand in his. And the fact that I felt guilty every time I was snooping around his father’s creepy mansion ... well, surely I wouldn’t feel guilty if I didn’t care.

  My snooping wasn’t yielding much, either way. Godbody House was enormous, and easy to get lost in, so Gabriel usually insisted on escorting me as far as the bathroom door. Despite all my best intentions, I hadn’t managed to see much of the mansion. And steering the conversation towards anything that might confirm my suspicions was a no go. I tried each and every time I visited, but I never seemed to find the right opening.

  It was always possible that there was nothing to be suspicious about. When it came down to it, we didn’t have any proof that Gabriel’s dad was iffy. By we, I mean Finn, Gretel and I. We were investigating him in the same top secret capacity that we were investigating everyone under Operation Long Leash, but when it came to Gabriel Godbody the Twentieth, I’m not sure we even knew why we were investigating him.

  All we knew for certain was that he had a penchant for scooping up all the neighbouring land he could. As for the fact that the owner of a house he’d expressed interest in had been murdered?
Well, we had Mr Rundt in jail for that, and Mr Rundt insisted that Mr Godbody knew nothing about the murder. When it came to Gabriel’s father, all we really had to go on was our guts.

  Since Winter Solstice I’d dined at Godbody House half a dozen times, and I wasn’t looking forward to more. While Gabriel and Gabriel senior dined on plates piled high with meat and threw bones to invisible animals, I usually sat there nursing whatever vegetarian meal his dad had made (last week’s meal had been powdered vegetable stock dissolved in water) and wondering: who was playing who?

  But I never asked that question. I never asked any question. In fact, I never even asked what the hell was going on with the invisible animals in the dining room. And that was absolutely unlike me. I kept telling myself it was down to the whole guilty conscience thing, but I didn’t really believe that. Nothing stopped me being nosey. Well, nothing until now.

  I’d spoken to Finn and Gretel about it, and the three of us were agreed: if something was impeding my natural-born nosiness, then we needed a new plan.

  Right now, though, I was too tired to think of one, because my parents hadn’t gotten any quieter after Gabriel left the house. Long into the night, I was burying my head beneath my pillow, desperately trying to think of noise reduction spells.

  I’d gotten up at some point, I remembered that much. Yeah – I’d gone downstairs to see if there was any more of that lovely Château Toff de Toff. There hadn’t been enough for even a thimble full, but that didn’t stop me tipping my head back to get those last few drops. And then ... then ... what? I had the sneaking suspicion that I might have been feeling a bit strange, sometime in those wee hours of the morning.

  I sat up, trying to recall what I’d done. I still couldn’t shake that morning after feeling – but the morning after what? I wiped away my delightful drool and yawned a few times. As I scratched my right boob, I got the sudden, sinking sensation that I wasn’t alone.

  A few feet away from me, in a separate bed squished in between mine and the door, Max lay snoring, with Wolfie sprawled out across his chest.

  ‘Oh, crap.’ It was all coming back to me now. The odd thoughts that started to run through my mind while I sat in the kitchen sucking the dregs of the Château Toff de Toff. The spell to magic Max’s bed in here. The late night, scribbled note that I’d pinned to the back door.

  His eyes flickered open, and he looked at me with a coy grin. ‘Hey.’

  Aaaand they were back – those pesky tummy flutters. At this stage, the only logical explanation was food poisoning. ‘Hey. I, um ... I’ll be quiet moving about. You’re probably not back long.’

  ‘Nah, not long. But don’t be quiet on account of me. It’s your room. Hey, I thought I was sleeping on the couch. But then you left that really sweet note pinned to the back door, telling me you’d magicked my very own bed here. You’re a star, Wanda.’

  Ah, yes. It was his very own bed. His very own king-sized bed from his room in Dublin. That would be why there wasn’t much space between it and the door, then. Wow, I could do some very powerful spells when I was drunk. Who would have thunk it?

  ‘Yeah. I’m a real star.’ My hand went to my head. ‘I’m not sure why, but I feel like I had way more to drink than one glass of wine.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I didn’t have anything but cola in Three Witches Brew, and I only had one glass here for Dutch courage before I went out again last night. But it feels like I’ve had a bottle.’

  I noticed Dizzy then, hanging upside down above my bed and pretending to be sleeping. Oh well. I guess it didn’t matter that he was witnessing my latest embarrassment, seeing as he’d seen so many of my cringeworthy moments before. ‘What did you need Dutch courage for?’ I asked Max.

  He sat up against his headboard, and the covers fell away, revealing almost his entire upper body. Except that it looked very different than it normally looked to me. I’d seen him without a top on plenty of times, when he was rushing to the tumble dryer to find a clean T-shirt, or when he was making a midnight run to the bathroom. But he looked somehow different this morning. I mean, his muscles were the same old muscles – toned but not overworked. And he had the same fine line of hair down the centre of his chest. Nothing new there. Nothing I hadn’t seen a hundred times before. So why, on this occasion, was the sight of his chest making my heart beat far too quickly?

  ‘The Dutch courage was for Emily,’ he said. ‘I was going to go round to hers before I went all weredoggy. I’d been going to try and get a chance to talk to her at the tavern, but then the lights went out, and there was the whole murder thing. Hey, do you know who murdered that poor girl yet?’

  I groaned. ‘No. Will Berry thinks it was because of the election. He’s on the board at Crooked College, and unless Agatha wins the popular vote by a landslide, he’ll have the casting vote on who gets to be Minister. Nancy was his cousin. They were close, apparently. So he thinks she was murdered to send him a message.’

  A frown crossed Max’s face, and he gritted his teeth. ‘Yeah, I saw you interviewing him last night. What’s with the way he looks at you? I wanted to rip his throat out, I swear.’

  I blinked. ‘You what now?’

  Max turned red and looked away. ‘Y’know because of the way he blows hot and cold with you. Not because I’m jealous of him or anything. I mean, I don’t have anything to be jealous of. Do I? You don’t still have a thing for him, do you? I mean, you have to know by now that he’s a cheating, conniving Berry.’

  Somehow, Wolfie was managing to stay asleep through our entire exchange. He was even snoring. Oh, to be a dog.

  ‘Well, duh,’ I replied. ‘Will is definitely a cheating, conniving Berry. I would never have a thing for him. And I mean, there’s Gabriel. Why would I have a thing for Will when I have Gabriel?’

  ‘Oh yeah. Gabriel.’ Max’s eyes seemed to darken. ‘Y’know, I don’t get you and him. You always seem on edge around him, and yet you keep going out with him. I know I said I was all right with the two of you, but ... is he really making you happy? Really?’

  Good goddess, my head was beginning to thud. And Max’s words were jogging something, something Finn had said to me a while ago – something that almost mirrored what Max was saying now. ‘Why do people always think I’m on edge around Gabriel? I mean, I was for a while, I guess, when you guys weren’t getting along. But you’re okay now. Aren’t you?’

  He found a fascinating spot on Wolfie’s coat to look at. ‘Yeah. Me and Gabriel are fine. Just dandy. Wanda ...’ He turned back to look at me, an intense expression in his deep brown eyes. His eyes met mine, and then began to travel all over my face, down over my neck ...

  And then he grew even redder than ever, and looked away again. I glanced down at what I was wearing – a tiny top that barely covered a thing – and pulled the covers up to my neck. What had I been thinking when I decided to sleep in the smallest outfit known to man?

  ‘You, em ... you were saying something about Emily.’ My voice had turned oddly high-pitched. ‘About needing Dutch courage to tell her something?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ He cleared his throat a few times in a row, his eyes once again staring at that one section of Wolfie’s fur. ‘I ... yeah. Well, she seems to think I’ll be ready to call her my girlfriend if the vote on Equal Rights for Others goes through. So I was going to, y’know, put her straight. I know I’ve been leading her on, and it’s not right. Except I started to change before I even finished my wine, and then I ran out into the night and forgot about Emily.’ He scratched his head and looked at me again. ‘It was a bit of a weird moon, to be honest. I think it’s still affecting me now. But I’m going to get up soon and go over to Caulfield’s Cakes and tell her, once and for all. Hey ... I’ll be changing again tonight, but do you think maybe tomorrow night you and me could ... I dunno ... have a night in?’

  While my ears followed what he said, my eyes tracked the movement of his hand as he ran it through his thick, messy brown hair. His new Ring of Privilege, the only way
he could access witch enclaves like Riddler’s Cove, was glinting on his hand. It drew my gaze there, making me think all sorts of new and unusual thoughts about his hands. They looked so strong, those hands of his – strong, and yet gentle.

  I jumped out of bed. ‘Yup. Sure. Sounds fab but I ... em ... I have to go now. Murder to investigate.’ I picked up a pile of clothing from the end of my bed. ‘I’m going to go and change in the bathroom. So you can get back to sleep.’ As I made to run for the door, I realised I had a bit of a problem. The only way to get there was to climb over Max’s bed. Which would mean climbing over Max. A rush of heat swept through me, and in that ridiculously squeaky voice that seemed to be taking me over this morning, I said, ‘Y’know what? I think I might actually magic myself to the bathroom.’

  Feeling his eyes roving far too hungrily over my body, I clicked my fingers, and got the hell out of there.

  ≈

  Once I’d showered and dressed, I made my way to the kitchen, expecting it to be as mad as it usually was at eight thirty in the morning. Instead, other than the familiars, the room was empty.

  ‘Where’s Melissa?’ I asked Princess.

  ‘Work. Where else?’ The cat barely looked up from her bowl of food.

  Well, I guess she was right to be snooty. Melissa was never late for work, so why should today be any different? Since the last lawyer she clerked under at the Wyrd Court had been imprisoned for murdering his mother-in-law, she had been placed with yet another reluctant prosecutor. You might think that Wayfairs would have a good relationship with the court-appointed lawyers. Seeing as the majority of those lawyers had been appointed by the previous Minister, though, we didn’t.

  But Melissa was determined. She wasn’t going to get a little bit of unpopularity (okay, a lot of unpopularity) stop her from achieving her dream of becoming a lawyer. Still, I thought there’d be someone in the kitchen when I got up. Someone lovely enough to make a pot of tea and heat up some croissants, maybe. I sighed and stuffed a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, and shoved a teabag into a mug, wondering where the hell everyone was. While I waited for the kettle to boil and the toast to pop, I headed towards the staircase again, cupping my ear for signs of anyone else waking.