by Deanna Chase
“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’ll talk to Gran. Take back my promise. But not tonight.”
Neko cocked his head to one side. “Would she ever know? I mean, I don’t think that the elixir of joy is what she had in mind.”
“A promise is a promise.” I shrugged. “We’ve always trusted each other. Besides, I’m pretty sure that she would know. When I was a kid, she could always tell when I was lying.”
A smooth baritone spoke from the base of the stairs. “Now that sounds like a witchy power, if ever there was one.”
I started at the first words, but I placed David Montrose’s voice before I turned around. “I don’t think that I invited you in,” I said, but I wasn’t truly surprised.
David inclined his head up the stairs. “Warder’s rights, remember? In any case, you shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked, if you don’t want visitors. Especially on Halloween. Who can say how many ghosts and goblins might take up residence here?”
Had I left the door unlocked? I looked upstairs, trying to remember whether I had automatically flipped the deadbolt when I came home. Turning back, I caught the tail end of some silent communication between David and Neko. My familiar stood and stretched. “I’ll go check on it,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” I responded quickly.
“No,” he said to me, but his eyes stayed on David’s. “I wanted to, um, get a drink of water.” And he was gone, before I could beg him to stay.
I took a deep breath before I turned to face David directly. “So,” I said.
“So,” he repeated. He was dressed in clothes that I’d come to think of as “mine”, comfortable khakis, a soft-as-flannel shirt. Clothes that I knew he’d chosen to make himself more attractive to me.
“Just how much trouble am I in, for Connecticut?”
He studied my face for several heartbeats. “If you’d stuck around till I arrived? You’d still be unable to use your powers. I would have locked your witchcraft down so tightly, you wouldn’t be able to watch The Wizard of Oz.”
“But now?” I asked warily?
“Now, I’ve had a chance to calm down. Neko explained everything to me.”
“Everything?” I felt myself blushing.
“Enough.”
“I suppose you’re here to gloat over the mess I made of things.”
“Mess? It seems to me that everything has worked out pretty well.”
I shrugged. “If you don’t count lying, cheating, and deception.” My words were more petulant than I actually felt.
“Who did you lie to?”
“Harold?” I said the man’s name louder than I’d intended. “Jason. Mr. Potter.” I had a truly terrifying thought. “You! Oh my god, you, too. That was why you kissed me that night. That’s why you changed your clothes, why you became something that you weren’t. You were caught up in the love spell too! Be free, dammit! Just leave me alone!”
I waited for the ping, the snap, the breaking of the bond that I had felt with Harold.
Nothing.
“Jane, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” He sounded amused. Tolerant. Not angry, like a man who had suddenly been released from a spell that had held him against his will. Not bemused, like a man still caught up in my magic.
I crossed to the couch and collapsed in the pool of my comfortable sweater. “That first spell I did, the grimoire spell. It worked, but it made too many men fall in love with me.”
David came to stand in front of me. He crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“The way the spells work.”
“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea. I haven’t sat around doing nothing for the past two months. You’ve been a good guide to all this witchcraft stuff, and Neko helped out a lot.”
“Well, neither of us taught you enough about the grimoire spell.”
I heard something behind his words. Laughter, I was pretty sure, but something else. Something grave. Respect? Pity? I gritted my teeth. “No time like the present, then. What about it? Did I change the balance of the universe as we know it? Have I set the world of Faerie upside down, releasing petty spirit vengeance on all the world?”
“Nothing quite so dramatic as that.” David sat down beside me. He took a deep breath and met my eyes guilelessly. “The grimoire spell only works on the first man you see after you work it.”
“The first man—” I thought back to that night, to Melissa standing in the kitchen, Melissa and…. “Neko!”
“No.” David shook his head in brief annoyance. “Neko doesn’t count. For purposes of magic, he’s a part of you.”
I felt my face turn crimson, but I said, “You, then.”
“No. Warders are immune to their witch’s workings.”
“Then the first man was…Harold.”
“Precisely.”
“But the others? Jason, finally realizing I was alive? Mr. Zimmer, ordering coffee? Mr. Potter, talking to me at Gran’s, and at the Gala, and making his donation to the Peabridge?”
“Just Harold. The spell bonds to the first man. The others weren’t caught up in your magic.”
I repeated his words inside my head. I couldn’t believe him. Each of those men had been free to act? Free to do whatever he wanted?
“But why?” I finally asked. “Why would everything change now, all at once?”
David gestured smoothly. “Look at yourself.” I stared down at my jeans, raised my fingers to my hair. “You’re the one who’s different, Jane.”
“I’m not! I’m the same person I’ve always been!”
“Are you, really?” His voice was soothing, even as his next words plunged me into doubt. “You’ve cut your hair. You grew out your nails. You put on makeup every morning and touch it up during the day. You’re wearing contact lenses.”
Everything he said was true, but I found my heart beating faster to hear a man say the words. A man who had been attracted to me, spell or no spell.
Of course, he was also a man who had set me aside, like a shirt that didn’t fit.
I started to get up from the couch, too embarrassed to continue the conversation. David reached out and grabbed my wrist. “We men are really dumb creatures, you know. We can be led anywhere by our…senses.” I knew that he was going to identify another leader, and I was glad that he hadn’t specified body parts. I was already mortified by this conversation.
“Jane,” he said, and he removed his fingers from my wrist, only to cup my jaw with his palm. “You’ve grown. You’ve changed. You like yourself more, and the men in your life can see that. You have confidence. You’re at ease—and that draws us like flies to honey.”
And suddenly, I understood what he was saying. I saw the path that he was leading me toward, the direction he was taking me.
I liked being the woman who remembered to put on lipstick, the woman who wore a green evening gown to the Gala. I liked being the woman who organized hundreds of books, cataloging them like a true professional.
I liked myself.
I sat up straighter. “And you? If self-love and independence are symbolized by wardrobe shifts, what are you doing in those clothes?”
He glanced down and shrugged. “I’ve grown, too. I’ve changed. I’m not the same warder who was fired by my last witch. I’ve decided that I can let myself be comfortable. If I’m going to succeed as a warder, as your warder, I’m going to succeed on my ability to guide you. To protect you. No one’s going to care if I wear stiff, formal clothes or magical robes inscribed with symbols.” I turned my head to one side, still skeptical. “I like myself this way.”
And that admission actually made me laugh out loud. “That, I understand.”
He joined me in laughter, amusement that trailed off easily as he looked around the basement. “I like what you’ve done to the place.”
“Really?”
He got up to study the nearest bookshelf, walked down to the next
one, and eventually traced his way around the entire room. He nodded when he found the spice chest, took note of the tackle box full of crystals, made a mental inventory of the little cauldrons and other witchy supplies stored on their respective shelves.
“A place for everything, and everything in its place,” he pronounced at last.
“It just feels…right like this. I hadn’t realized how much the disorganization was bothering me.”
“So now it seems like you’re really ready to study. Ready to learn.”
“What about the Coven? What are the chances that they’ll challenge me for this? For Hannah Osgood’s collection?””
David shrugged. “High. They’ll say that you aren’t skilled, that you aren’t trained, that you don’t know what to do with everything you have.”
Indignation rose in my chest and I opened my mouth to protest.
“They’ll say that. But they probably won’t succeed. For one thing, they could never come up with a list of everything that’s here. They’d have to, to convince the Court that the books belong to them.”
I thought about the laptop computer secure beneath my bed, and the backup drive I’d left in my desk at the Peabridge that very morning. “But they’ll definitely try?” I said, and my voice was suddenly very small.
“They’ll definitely try,” David confirmed. “But that will take a long time. And in the end, I don’t think that they’ll be successful. In the meantime, that you can learn more about using your powers.”
I caught my breath, suddenly realizing just how much I wanted to do that. “And you? You’ll teach me?”
“Jane, I told you before, I’m not supposed to be a teacher. I’m a warder.”
“Then, you’ll…ward me? Be my guide? Keep me safe?”
He looked at me for a long time. I remembered how I’d been drawn to him when we first met. I remembered how I’d worried about eating in front of him. But then, I recalled how I’d relaxed with him, how he’d helped me through my early spells, how he’d tucked me into bed with tender hands—hands that had no secret mission, no ulterior motive.
Men. I’d never understand them. In fact, I was ready to take a break from them. From my romantic interest in them, at least. I needed to spend some time figuring out who I was. I needed more nights like the one just past, gathered together with my grandmother and my mother, with my best friend. I needed to know more about Jane Madison before I tried to convert her into Jane Randall, Jane Templeton, or Jane Anyone Else.
“Please,” I said to David. “As warder to witch. Say you’ll help me.”
He nodded gravely. “As warder to witch.”
I reached out to hug him and felt him tense beneath my hands. I turned my face away from his, though, and he relaxed. His ease spread to me, and I took a deep breath. A clean breath. A new breath for the new me.
“But first,” I said. “Would you like a cup of tea?” He followed me upstairs to the kitchen, where Neko had already put on the kettle, set out the teapot, arranged the mugs, and added a huge pitcher of cream.
My familiar looked up as we gathered around the table. He turned his head to one side, looking first at me, then at David. “Trick or treat?” he said at last.
“Treat,” David and I said at the same time.
It wasn’t going to be easy, I was certain. Figuring out the new me, helping the Peabridge grow, preparing for my confrontation with the Coven…. None of it would be easy. But it was definitely going to be a treat.
About the Author
Mindy Klasky learned to read when her parents shoved a book in her hands and told her she could travel anywhere in the world through stories. She never forgot that advice.
Mindy’s travels took her through multiple careers—from litigator to librarian to full-time writer. Mindy’s travels have also taken her through various literary genres for readers of all ages—from traditional fantasy to paranormal chick-lit to category romance, from middle-grade to young adult to adult.
In her spare time, Mindy knits, quilts, and tries to tame her endless to-be-read shelf. Her husband and cats do their best to fill the left-over minutes.
Other titles:
Sorcery and the Single Girl
Magic and the Modern Girl
Single Witch’s Survival Guide
Fright Court
Capitol Magic
How Not to Make a Wish
When Good Wishes Go Bad
To Wish or Not to Wish
How to Date a Werewolf
Book One of the Riley Cruz Novels
Rose Pressey
Dedication
This is to you and you know who you are.
Acknowledgements
To my son, who brings me joy every single day. To my mother, who introduced me to the love of books. To my husband, who encourages me and always has faith in me. A huge thank you to my editor, Christy Phillipe. And to the readers who make writing fun.
Chapter 1
How to Date a Werewolf Rule #1:
Always tell your date how nice they look despite excess hair.
Romance was such a hairy business. Why I continued to subject myself to such freaky situations as the one I was in, I had no idea.
The clock on the wall read five PM. Evening fast approached, and the air in my cramped office felt stifling hot. Instead of being home and sinking my chops into a juicy steak, my butt remained firmly planted in my desk chair. My legs stuck to the leather, making a swooshing sound every time I moved. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead, and heat rushed to my cheeks. Some days you should stay in bed, and this day turned out to be one of them. Not to mention, in a few days a full moon would appear, making playing around with anger issues a dangerous proposition.
“I told you, Lily, I can only do so much to help you.” My temples throbbed and massaging them didn’t help. “I run a matchmaking service not a mail-order husband business. I can’t force the guy to like you. What do you want me to do? Bring him to you at gunpoint?”
I hated what happened when I lost my cool. Granted, it didn’t happen often, but when it did… Watch out. Fur everywhere, glowing eyes. It was not a pretty sight.
“You clearly state in your brochure you can find a mate for anyone. Right here it says: Get a Mate Dating Service, bringing lonely hearts together all around town. It even has your signature, Rylie Cruz.” She pointed to the words. “You obviously found the wrong one for me.” Her hand trembled as she waved the brochure under my nose. “So I want to know, why not me? That’s false advertising, you know. I think I might sue you.” Her eyes shimmered with a faint tawny glow as she stared me down.
“Why, Lily, I do believe you’re trying to intimidate me.” My lips jerked at the corners.
She glared, then ripped my brochure in half.
Maybe she forgot we were alike—both succumbing to the lure of a full moon and morphing into hairy wolves. She possessed a knack for ticking me off. But the customer was always right, and I didn’t need a lawsuit, so I had to suck it up. For the sake of not upsetting myself, and dealing with the nasty feat of turning furry, I decided to try to make amends with my dear, sweet customer.
“Listen, Lily, I am truly sorry things didn’t work out for you. How about I offer you a full refund and we’ll cut our ties. I won’t waste any more of your time.” Nice, huh? Grandma Cruz always said I was a people person. Whatever that means.
“Are you friggin’ kidding me?” Her voice shot up a decibel. “You think you can flip your curly hair, dash your toothy grin at me and I’ll fall for that? No way.” She shook her head. “Men might fall for it, but I won’t. I want compensation for the distress you’ve put me through.” She slammed her fist on the edge of the desk.
Perhaps, I reflected as Lily narrowed her orangey eyes and fixed her venomous stare at me, in spite of how hard I tried, my customer service skills were lacking. I found myself in a bit of a quagmire.
“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be. I said I was sorry and there’s not
hing else I can do.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m in love with Martin, and I thought he loved me too. Then last night over sushi and beer, he said he didn’t love me, and never would. He is my were-soul mate.” She lowered her evil glare, let out a sob and snatched a tissue from the box teetering on the edge of the desk.
Were-soul mate? Was that a word?
“Take a deep breath. Did you have a fight? Lots of couples argue and have misunderstandings.”
“Yes, we fought. He said that new beer with the lime added in sucks. I said it tasted good.”
What kind of lame-ass argument was that? “Oh, is that the beer I keep seeing commercials for all the time? It looks really yummy.”
Lily glowered. Her eyes were like daggers, and I thought at any moment they would cut right through me. “If you’re finished talking about damn commercials, I will continue.”
I nodded. She could so use a cup of chamomile tea right about now. Or a tranquilizer.
“He said fresh limes should always be used, but they’re so messy. Besides, he wanted beer with fresh lime while eating sushi. That’s a sin, in and of itself.” She let out another howl. If she didn’t calm down, I’d have a heartbroken lycanthrope to deal with. Talk about a mess.
“Aw, come on, Lily.” I moved around the front of my desk and placed my hand on her shoulder. I used care, though. I didn’t know when she might snap and take a chunk out of my hand. “I can find someone else for you. I bet the next guy will be even better. Martin’s not so special, anyway. He has coffee breath and I’ve noticed he belches way too much.” I brushed back a lock of Lily’s ginger-colored hair from her shoulder.
“What do you mean, even better? You claim to get it right the first time.” The tears vanished and her belligerent tone returned.
I jerked my hand away before she had a chance to bite it. Hmm. She had me there. I did claim that.
“Anyway, you’ll be hearing from my attorney, Miss Cruz.” Lily snatched her purse from the floor and jumped to her feet. She flung the monster-sized bag around and let out an immense huff as she made a dash for the door, knocking my collectable figurines off the shelf in her wake. Damn. I loved those things. Now, much to my chagrin, the two knickknacks rested headless on the floor.
