by Michele Hauf
When she returned to the chairs, the diaper bag sat on Lars’s lap.
“You got the feeling back?”
“A little. I think we should head out, if that’s okay with you. Everything aches. I want to get home so I don’t have to face this in public.”
“Deal.” Hooking Peanut on her hip, she then dug into Lars’s front jeans pocket and grabbed the truck keys. “I’ll drive.”
“I think you just shifted gears.” He pressed up against the back of her to show her that some part on him wasn’t giving him problems. “Think you can manage the diaper bag too? I might have to use the ball shelves to lean on to get out of here.”
“Not a problem. Hook it over my shoulder. You want me to help you?”
“Nope. Just give me some time.”
“Fine. I’ll walk ahead and get Peanut in the car seat. We’ll drive back to pick you up.” She turned to kiss him and he caught her head with both his hands and delivered her a long, deep, promising kiss. One she hadn’t been expecting. It reminded her exactly what a hold he had on her heart.
“You’re too good to me.”
“You make it easy to want to be so good. Let’s go.”
She walked ahead, trying to act casual as she kept slipping looks over her shoulder. Lars walked a little hunched over, pressing his fist to the shelves for support, but he made it up the two steps to the carpeted landing and gave her a nod of reassurance. So she dashed outside and put Peanut in the car seat. She’d gotten good at climbing up into the monster truck and adjusting the seat. She made it to the front door as her lover wobbled out. At the door, he stepped up but his foot slipped. She saw his hands cling to the door and seat as he attempted another go at it. Jaws tight, he was in pain. She wanted to lean over and pull him up, but she didn’t. She would allow him his pride.
Finally, he made it up and with a “Whew!” he gave her a wink and said, “Home, Jeeves.”
Once at her place, Mireio suggested Lars go upstairs and lie down for a while. He didn’t say a word, only crept slowly up the stairs as if an old man struggling in his twilight years. She hugged Peanut to her, wishing she could help the man, but she was at a loss as to how. The healing spell was apparently starting to fade.
There had to be something she could do.
Spinning Peanut about, she realized he would be staying the night if Lars wasn’t feeling better, so she would give him a bottle now. He’d have to sleep in the baby carrier. It was better than laying him on the hard floor, even on a blanket. Although, she could make a little nest for him...
“Nah, the carrier should work for a night. It’ll get you toughened up for those nights when you’re in college and you have to couch surf, or when your girlfriend kicks you out of bed. You little rascal, you.”
After giving Peanut a bottle, Mireio ran upstairs to check on Lars. He lay facedown on the bed, as if he’d fallen there, arms outstretched. Snoring filled the room.
“Oh, sweetie.”
Carefully, she removed his boots and set them on the floor by the bed, then she kissed his cheek and went back down to find Peanut snoring, as well.
“I’ve got to do something for him.” She glanced about the room, feeling helpless, and yet, when her gaze landed on the red witch ball she kept over the kitchen sink—not a charm against witches but to keep out demons—the most obvious answer struck her.
Chapter 21
Eggs and bacon bubbled in the frying pan, but the scent had yet to wake Lars from the coma sleep he’d fallen into last night. Mireio didn’t mind.
Blowing raspberries on the bottoms of Peanut’s feet was interrupted by a knock at the front door. She promised the baby more fun amid his delirious giggles and hastened to answer. It was Valor, on her way to work. Mireio had called her earlier, asking if she could drop off some grimoires.
Valor handed over a tote bag. “It’s all I have and that I’m willing to loan you. And Geneva sent one along too. You think you can find a spell to reverse imminent death?”
“Not sure. Maybe delay the actual dying process? I mean, I know we witches can’t bring back the dead. And I’m pretty sure we can’t stop an inevitable death, but...” She sighed and clutched the tote bag to her chest. “I have to try, Valor. The healing we performed has weakened. Lars was feeling pretty awful last night.”
“That’s tough. Big guy like that must feel so...”
“Small, is how he puts it. Oh, it kills me, Valor.” She hugged the tote bag to her stomach. “But thank you for this. It means a lot.”
“Let me know if you need my help. I’m always willing to do what I can. But no dark stuff, got it?”
Mireio nodded, but couldn’t quite get behind an enthusiastic agreement. She’d do what was necessary to help Lars. And if that required dark magic? She’d face that hurdle if it approached. “You waxing the floors at the brewery today?”
“Yes. I’m excited to use the buffer. Rented it from Home Depot. It’s going to be a blast.”
“Only you could get excited about stripping hardwood floors and waxing them. Thanks, Valor. I’ll get these back to you as soon as I can.”
After Valor shut the front door, Mireio laid out the books on the coffee table before the couch and browsed through them, keeping Peanut in peripheral view. She loved grimoires. Bound in leather, velvets and other fabrics, some were so old, having been preserved through centuries of family, or sometimes even belonging to the same witch for those many centuries. The pages always smelled of herbs and age, and some even came alive with the proper incantation or a knowing eye.
The stairs creaked, signaling the wolf had woken. Lars wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his beard. He wore only jeans and Mireio’s eyes veered to his tight abs. Mercy.
He sat before the counter and the plate of breakfast she set out for him, but before lifting the fork, he apologized with a yawn for falling asleep last night.
“It’s not your fault, lover. Besides, Peanut and I partied it up while you were sleeping.”
“Oh, yeah?” He ruffled the infant’s wild hair. “Did she get drunk again?”
The baby kicked his legs and cooed. It seemed like a very definite yes.
“Telling stories!” Mireio protested. “He’s a sneaky one.”
“So what’s all that stuff on the coffee table?” He shoveled in eggs and growled a satisfied noise.
Mireio pulled out the ingredients for the cupcakes she intended to make after the breakfast dishes were cleared. But now that he’d asked, she had to tell him. “It occurred to me last night that I’m a witch.”
He cocked a brow above a dimpled smirk.
“And that witches cast spells. All kinds of spells.”
“Thus, the healing spell,” he said.
“Right. But we can conjure so many other kinds of spells. Some, which are dark, ancient and very powerful, can even possibly save lives.”
“Is that so? I thought there was something about witches not being able to bring back the dead?”
“Exactly! But you’re not dead, are you? So there’s hope. I called Valor and Geneva and asked them to gather all their grimoires and spell books. Valor dropped them off. There will be something in one of them. I know it.”
“A spell to save my life? Didn’t you just basically try that?”
“It was more a general healing spell. And after last night, I feel as though it wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped. So what do you think? Can I give it another go?”
She squeezed his hands and bounced on her heels, hoping he’d get behind the idea, but preparing herself for an argument.
So when he nodded and kissed her mouth and said, “Go for it. I approve,” she squealed and wrapped her arms about him.
“I love you,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I’m all for trying everything in our po
wer. But that’s a big stack of books.”
“It is. But can you feel it?”
He shrugged.
“The magic emanating from all those sacred texts. It’s in there, Lars. I know it!” Skipping around to collect his plate, she set it in the dishwasher. “Now, I’m going to make cupcakes because some guy gave me a lot of honey and I need to do something with it.”
He smiled at her.
“You take Peanut in the other room and read to him, why don’t you?”
“Are you suggesting I look through the witch books?”
“If you want to.”
Glancing over the assortment of grimoires, he scratched his beard. “What am I looking for?”
“You’ll know it when you read it.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “Probably don’t read anything too dark aloud. But me and my friends don’t practice dark magic, so you should be safe. On the other hand...some of our relatives may have dabbled in the dark arts. Hmm...”
Lars glanced to Peanut. “She’s a little nutty. But I like her. Come on, Charlie, let’s do this.”
“Charlie?” She beamed at him. “That was the first name I ever suggested.”
“I know.” He winked at her. “I like it. But I’m not committing to it yet. We’ll see if it fits him, okay?”
She nodded eagerly.
* * *
Lars lay on the blanket on the floor next to Peanut-Maybe-Charlie. He’d paged through one of the grimoires that smelled musty and of lavender, but the writing was in some kind of hieroglyphs. Must be witch writing. He didn’t know if that was a thing, but he knew he didn’t need glasses.
Another book, from which he read a few pages out loud to Peanut, seemed to feature only love spells and those for womanly concerns. Women had a lot of issues. Who would have thought softening freckles would require a spell?
Now he picked up a dusty book bound in scratched blue leather. The spine was laced with wide red silk stitches. He smoothed a hand over it and thought it felt warm, as if alive.
“What do you think of this one?” he asked his son. “Let’s take a look inside.”
As he opened to the first page, Peanut cooed as if in marvel. And there was quite a reason for such a reaction. The first page featured a kind of family crest or logo that seemed to leap off the page at him. Like a 3-D design or hologram. The stags clashing horns at the top of the crest turned to look at him and their blue eyes glowed.
“Now that’s freaky. But cool, eh?”
Peanut blew spit bubbles, a sure sign that he was enjoying the book.
“So the first spell is...” Lars loved reading to his son and no matter what it was, from the morning paper to ads to nonfiction or fiction, he always tried to add some dramatic inflection. “Casting out transgressions of the heart. Ooo... Now isn’t that interesting? And see here? The insects drawn along this page...” He moved the page slightly and the bugs seemed to turn fluorescent and glow. “Do you think they could fly off the page?”
Out in the kitchen Mireio called, “How you two doing? We’ll have frosted cupcakes in about ten minutes.”
“Great! We’re reading about bugs in magic books.”
“Sounds awesome. You want chocolate or vanilla buttercream frosting?”
Lars thought about it only a second. “Both!”
“Both it is.”
He turned to meet Peanut’s pale blue eyes. “She spoils us.” The baby cooed.
“Okay, next page...”
He read through spells for opening the third eye, a charm for attracting health—hmm... No, he’d read the squiggly text wrong. It was for attracting wealth. But on the next page he was pretty sure it did say health. The words were written in blue and emerald ink, and the dark brown ink that depicted a raven in the corner he suspected could be dried blood. Scents of earth, ash and flowers emanated from the page. And something darker.
When he turned to the next page, which was blank save for some decorative scrollwork, all the pages fluttered and the corner of the upper page suddenly blackened, as if burned. He smelled sulfur and could taste blood at the back of his tongue. He traced a finger along the ink scrollwork that edged the left side against the spine and he pulled back with a flinch. A blood drop formed on the cut he’d gotten on his thumb. And before he could wipe it off it dripped onto the old stained paper.
“Oops.” He glanced into the kitchen. Mireio was too busy to notice him damaging her book.
He tried to wipe off the blood but the droplet seeped into the toothy paper and crept outward, forming words in bright red. It was fascinating, but also a little scary. Lars looked to Peanut, who sucked his thumb with great intent.
Turning over to lie on his stomach, he set the book on the floor and watched as it filled with text. And within the text were tiny drawings of skeletons, hands pointing in various mudras and at the bottom crawled a snake. He flinched when he saw that. The snake lashed out its tongue at him, then rolled into a circle, biting its own tail.
And the final text formed a title across the top of the page. He read in a whisper, “To Dissuade Death.”
Dissuade meant to deter something or to stop it. Had he found a spell that could save his life? This was remarkable. It was almost too good to be true. But maybe it only meant putting if off for a little while? Eventually death would come.
“Even a little while is better than what I have now,” he muttered. “What do you think, Peanut?”
The baby rolled to his side and his chubby hand slid across the page. And behind the brush of his skin over the scrollwork, another tiny pinpoint of blood showed.
“Ah hell.” Lars grabbed the boy’s hand and saw he’d been cut. But he must not have felt it. The infant held his head up with some effort, grunting. Lars pressed his lips to the cut, then licked it. Then he rolled Peanut to his back and gave him the teething ring. “Such magic is not for you, Charlie.”
Hmm, maybe that name would work. He did like it.
Turning back to the book, he watched his son’s blood crawl over the page in a perfect bubble, not leaving a trail but seeking... The bubble stopped over a word. “Immortality,” he read. Then the blood dispersed into the paper and left a faint pink stain.
Immortality?
Lars saw that the word was part of an ingredients list. Dragon’s blood. A baby’s cry. Pixie dust. Ashes of vampire. And... “A witch’s immortality. She must ransom her borrowed years for thee one on whom thy spell is focused.” Lars caught his forehead in hand. “Shit. That means...”
The witch performing the spell had to have already performed an immortality spell for herself. And what witch would give up such a precious thing?
Didn’t matter because Mireio had told him she no longer wanted immortality. Which he didn’t believe for a second. She would go after it. Someday. When she didn’t have to stand alongside one who was dying. She shouldn’t feel bad for having such a desire. She wouldn’t have sought it if she hadn’t genuinely desired it.
If Mireio read this spell she’d probably perform the immortality spell just to help him. He knew that she would.
Such a sacrifice was too much to ask of her. And he could never live knowing what she had given up to save him.
“Everything all right in here?”
He jerked around, slamming the book shut.
“It was so quiet I figured I’d better check to see if one or both of you were taking a nap.”
Lars looked to Peanut, who was napping, arms splayed and teething ring lying on his chest. He twisted forward, effectively hiding the book behind him with a sweep of his hair.
“One of us is still awake. Cupcakes ready?”
“Yes! And they’ve cooled enough to frost. So, uh, did you find anything?”
“Nope.” He sat up, wrapping his hands about his knees, and shrugged. “N
othing but some ways to cure monthly cramps or get a man to fall in love with you.”
She narrowed her brows. Could she see the damn book behind him?
“Let me bolster Peanut in and I’ll be right in to sample the goods,” he said, shooing her off with a gesture.
“Okay.” She spilled her gaze over the floor one last time. “You want some coffee too?”
“Yes!” he called.
Turning, he grabbed the blue leather-bound book. What to do with it? If he didn’t draw attention to it, and slipped it back in the pile... No, she was going to look through them all, surely. Panicking, he shoved it under the couch. Then he stood, made sure he couldn’t see any part of the book from where he stood. Grabbing the bolster pillows from the couch, he set them on either side of Peanut. Good for a few minutes.
And he swung around the corner, following the delicious aroma of chocolate and sugar.
* * *
After Lars’s fifth cupcake, Mireio refilled his coffee. If he wanted to eat a dozen she wouldn’t be happier. She would like nothing more than to cook and bake for this man every day.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Standing across the counter from him, she straightened and looked about. “What’s what?”
“That look on your face. Like strange stories of romance and adventure are taking place behind your eyes. I’d love to know your thoughts.”
“Honestly? I was thinking how happy it makes me to watch you eat the stuff I bake. I’ve always considered food a form of love. You eat my food, that shows me how much you love me.”
“Then I’m not leaving until all these cupcakes are gone.” He winked at her. “Though I probably should slow down a bit, eh? Whew! These are sweet.”
“I promised Valor a couple. Going to drop them off tonight as thanks for her hard work at the brewery today. It’s supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow. Are you going to take Peanut home?”
“Yeah, we should hit the road. I used the last diaper in the bag.”
“You can keep some diapers here if you like. And I wouldn’t mind if you kept a bassinet or something for him to sleep in here, as well.”
