Max grins. Then, he leans forward and places a hand on my leg. The contact makes me feel faint. He pats my leg, just above my knee. “You will,” he says. “I have confidence in you, Penny. You’ll figure it out. Rely on your instincts.”
His hand rests on my leg for a moment, and then he removes it. I don’t want him too. His touch feels so nice. Surprisingly warm.
I meet his eye. For a minute, we look at each other. He knows that I’m asking him to touch me again. The corner of his lip raises, as if he’s saying, ‘all in good time, Penny, all in good time.’
Aloud, he asks, “Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” I say. “Did you say something about steak?”
“I did,” Max says. “And asparagus. I have red potatoes roasting in the oven. They should be about done by now. Shall we go see?”
I don’t want to leave the couch. I want to stay here, next to Max. Preferably, in contact with Max. Close contact.
But Max stands, and I follow his lead. I suppose dinner does sound good.
Max cooks his own steak rare, but I request that he cooks mine well done. Pink meat gives me the heebie jeebies. He gives me a long lecture about the mistake humans make by overcooking their meat.
Apparently, it ruins the protein structures, or something like that. I really have no idea. All I know is that I don't want to bite into a piece of filet mignon that’s cold in the middle, no matter how healthy it’s supposed to be for me.
While Max cooks, we talk about the case. I ramble on about my visit to Silas, and the way the crime scene looked last night. As we move to a small, classy dining nook off to the side of Max’s kitchen, our conversation turns to the coven, and our knitting circle meeting the night before.
Max refills my wine glass as I say, “Annie thought her nephews borrowed the book. So her house wasn’t even disturbed. You know what I mean? There were no signs of a break in. It was the same with my house. No broken windows, no signs of disturbance. The book just seemed to vanish.”
“Have you continued your studies anyways?” Max says.
I cut into my meat. Is that a pink center I see? “Max... this isn’t well done, is it?”
“I couldn’t, Penny. I just couldn’t. That’s an organic, free range, grass fed piece of beef right there. You were asking me to ruin it.”
I sigh.
He points towards my plate with the tip of his fork. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”
I begin slicing through the steak. My knife moves through it like it’s slicing through butter.
As I cut, I say, “Yeah, we’re still studying cycle three even though our books are missing. We hope that if we study the Desire Spell, maybe magic can help us track down our books. But there’s parts of the spell we can’t remember.”
“Maybe I can help,” Max says. “I have read the book before, you know, even though I’ve never managed to own a copy. I have a wonderful memory. I use the Method of Loci.”
I have no idea what that is. He must see that I’m confused, because he explains.
“It’s a method for memorising things that was developed in ancient Rome.”
“Of course it is,” I say. I bite into my steak. It’s surprisingly good. Tender, flavorful... delicious.
“It tastes good, doesn’t it?” Max says, watching me chew.
“It’s alright,” I say. For some reason, I don’t want to admit I was wrong. Is that a human thing, too? Must be, because he gives me that look that I’m used to by now: it’s the same look I used to give Turkey when he was a kitten and did something adorable and cute.
“I’m being human again, aren’t I?” I ask.
Max chuckles. “Very,” he says. “It’s understandable. You’re only on cycle three. Let’s see... the Desire Spell. If I remember correctly, which I’m sure I do, that is the one that must be cast independent of the coven. Desire is a very independent attribute. Notice I’m saying ‘independent,’ not ‘private.’”
I don't’ want to open that can of worms, so I pretend that I understand what he’s saying exactly. “Right. Independent. Not private. I get that part. I think one of the parts I’m hung up on is the whole intentional amnesia thing.”
“Oh! Right! That is such a delightful concept. And such a simple one.”
“Wow. You and I have totally different ideas about simple,” I say. “None of this stuff is simple to me.”
“It will start to feel natural to you. Intentional amnesia just means ‘letting go.’ Forgetting on purpose. Think of it like this: You’re an archer, standing on a field. Yes?”
“I went to a summer camp once where we took archery,” I say. “I can imagine it.”
“Alright, so there you are, on the field. You put your arrow into the bow, and you aim at a target. That’s like deciding on what you want—you know, becoming clear on what you desire. You take aim. Then, what do you do? Do you just stand there, aiming your arrow, waiting for something to happen?”
“No,” I say. “You have to let go of the arrow.”
“Right,” Max says, happily. “You take aim. You pull back. There’s some tension there. Delightful, delicious tension.” He pauses and looks at me meaningfully. “You know what you want, but you haven’t quite gotten it yet. Then—you let go. You let the arrow fly free. Do you see?”
“I think so,” I say.
Max smiles. “Good. That’s intentional amnesia. A very simple concept. Very easy to practice. The first few times, yes, it may feel strange. Especially to a human who is used to holding on so tightly.” He looks pointedly at me again.
I take another bite of steak, and chew thoughtfully. I try to imagine what it would feel like to want something very badly, and then just forget all about it.
Once I swallow, I say, “That makes sense when you explain it, but when I really, really want something—really badly—I can’t just forget about it.”
“Ah! I see,” Max says. “That’s the piece you’re missing. I am so glad we’re having this discussion!” He sips his wine, and then pats his lips with his napkin.
I find that I’m also glad we’re having this discussion.
Maybe I don’t need ASBW in order to pull off this spell. Maybe, with Max’s help, I can figure out how to do it without reading the directions word for word.
“I’ll try to make this very easy for you to understand,” Max says. “It has to do with language.”
“I’m confused already,” I say, just to give him a hard time.
He laughs. I smile too.
When he goes on, there’s a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, this is very, very exciting to be teaching you this,” he says. “I feel like you’re turning into a witch, right before my very eyes. It’s very enticing.”
“I’m glad I can entertain you,” I say.
His grin broadens. “Oh, Penny... you do much more than just entertain me.”
He stares at me, and I do my best not to blush so hard that my cheeks burn right up.
I look down at my plate and pretend that I’m concentrating very hard on cutting one of the perfectly roasted red potatoes in half.
Max continues. “Humans don’t like to feel desire. It makes them uncomfortable. Think about the words you use to describe the feeling: ‘I want it so bad. I want it in the worst way.’ You don’t say, ‘I want it so good’ or ‘I want it in the best way,’ do you? Have you ever heard anyone say that? Have you ever said it yourself?”
“No,” I say. “But we say those things because that’s how it feels. Desire is a desperate feeling. It’s not fun. It means you don’t have what you want.”
Max nods. “Right. Well, to become a witch, you’re going to have to learn to enjoy the sensation of wanting something. You’re going to have to enjoy desire. Feel the heat of it. Feel the flames, warming your fingertips... the flames of a burning desire. Enjoy the heat.”
He sips his wine, and watches me take this in.
“How can you enjoy wanting something that you don’t have?” I ask.
“I’m pretty sure that saying is only about horses,” I say.
Max chuckles.
Our banter continues for the rest of the evening. Sadly, my health-conscious love interest does not offer up the dark chocolate he promised. I suppose he had second thoughts on that front. I’m going to have to wait until I get home to satisfy my sweet tooth.
When he walks me to the door, I feel reluctant to leave. I mean, I know I can’t stay forever—the evening has to end eventually. But I don’t want it to end.
“This was fun,” I say, as I linger by the doorway.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” Max asks.
I look up and to the right, as I laugh. “I can see my apartment door,” I say. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“You seem to have a knack for getting into trouble,” Max says.
“Oh, now you’re going to jinx me!” I say with a giggle. “Great. Now maybe you should walk me to my apartment!”
We both laugh.
As our laughter dies down, Max takes a small step towards me. “This really was fun,” he says. “You know... I’ve seen a lot of things, over the past five hundred years. I’ve watched the world change. I’ve watched people change. It all just seems to get better and better as the years pass. And now... you. I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
Now I’m stepping in closer to him. How can I not, when he says things like that?
“You’re just saying that,” I say, quietly. I reach up, and rest my hand on his chest.
He places his hand over mine. “I’m not, Penny. I mean every word of it. You’re a very special woman.”
I look up at him. For a minute, we’re completely lost in each other’s eyes.
Then, I begin to pull away. Max releases my hand. I step backwards.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say.
“It was my absolute pleasure,” Max says.
I turn, and begin walking towards the stairs that will take me to my apartment. As I reach the stairs, I pause. I turn, and see Max, watching me.
I smile to myself as I turn back around. That was definitely a date. Definitely! And I crushed it.
If I was to give myself a grade for that date, I would give myself an ‘A plus.’ Jumper Strongheart is always saying that people should give themselves credit where credit is due. Well, credit is due to me for my wit, my charm, and the way I kept myself together. Even at the end there! Yes!
I’m trying to walk up the stairs in a casual, cool way, just in case Max is still watching. Inside, I feel like dancing. When I finally reach my front door, I turn around again. I can see Max’s door. It’s shut.
He’s not watching any more. I walk out to the railing, across from my front porch, and take a big, deep, happy breath. Life is good. Life is really good. Now, if I could just solve this freaking case, life would be perfect.
The case. I lean against the railing and sigh.
What am I going to do about this go-nowhere case? I feel like I’m at a dead end. My only real lead is Azure.
I look down my stairs. She might be down in her apartment, now. Unit B.
Thinking of her unit label jogs my memory. Why did Silas have Azure’s address written in his notebook?
What was it that it said? ‘Unit B. 8:30 PM.’
It’s 8:25 now. Could Silas have been referring to 8:30 PM, tonight?
Could he be heading to her apartment, right now?
It would be easy just to run down there and check. I mean, she has windows. I could peek in, and try to spot him.
She is on the top of my suspect list, and I’m curious about what their connection is.
I nod. I’m doing it. I turn towards the stairs and begin jogging down them.
Chapter Eleven
I hurry down the steps and then make my way down the walkway that goes to Azure’s apartment. Before I turn the corner that will put me into a clear line of sight with her place, I take a deep breath. I’ve got to be careful now. Stealthy. I want to have a view of Azure’s apartment, but I don’t want her to be able to see me.
When I turn the corner, I’ll be on the last stretch of walkway that leads out to the parking lot in front of Blackbear Apartments. Azure’s apartment unit, B, is not far from where I’m standing. How am I going to see her place, without being seen?
I’m going to have to stick to the shadows, and be very, very quiet.
I mean, chances are, she’s not standing in her doorway, watching the walkway in front of her house. I’ll just creep around the corner, sidle up to one of her windows, and take a peek in.
Nothing to it!
I take another deep breath, and then round the corner.
Shoot! Azure is standing in her doorway! Red alert, red alert! I try not to panic. She’s facing the other way, looking in the direction of the parking lot. I dart into a small alcove cut into the side of the building, and plaster myself against the wall. My heart is racing.
I didn’t expect her to actually be standing there. What is she doing, staring out towards the parking lot like that? It was as if she was waiting for someone.
Could she be waiting for Silas?
Maybe tonight really is the night that Silas’s notebook was referring to. But why would he be coming over to Azure’s house at 8:30 at night?
I mean I can think of a few reasons—well, one in particular—and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. If I find out that Silas is cheating on Cora, I’m going to be one pissy witch.
He’s going to hear a piece of my mind.
In fact, I’m getting kind of angry just thinking about it. My heart is beating faster. I make my hands into fists, and clench and release them.
For a minute, I just fume about the situation. Then, realizing how worked up I’m getting, I release my fists and shake out my hands, trying to shed some of the pent up energy.
Calm down, I tell myself. Azure might not be waiting for Silas. You don’t know that Silas is going to be here. That note of his could have meant anything. Maybe there’s a different Unit B apartment somewhere, and that’s what he was referring to. Blackbear Apartments can’t be the only ones that use the letter system.
Of course! That’s it. I’m being too suspicious—imagining that there’s a connection between Silas and Azure when there’s not. It’s my overactive imagination, coming into play again.
I almost laugh at myself, as I stand there in the shadows.
What am I even doing here? I should just go upstairs, to my cozy apartment, my cat, and a sweet, chocolaty bowl of—
Suddenly Azure’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Silas!” she calls out, happily. “You made it!”
Crap.
Crapity crap-crap.
She was waiting for Silas.
I wasn’t imagining a connection. Silas and Azure know each other.
I can tell from Azure’s tone that she’s happy to see the handsome werewolf. I also sense that she knows him... well. Very well.
His name rolls of her tongue as though she’s said it a thousand times before.
“Hi Baby,” I hear Silas say. My stomach lurches. Baby? Did he just call her baby?
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. My hands form into fists again. There is only one woman that this man should be calling Baby, and that’s my friend, Cora.
Flushed with anger, I chance a peek around the little corner of the alcove.
I can see the two of them, in Azure’s doorway.
Their arms are wrapped around one another. They’re hugging.
I feel sick.
I pull my head back, and try to breathe. Oh, Cora is not going to like this. Not at all.
Maybe there won’t be a wedding, after all. Maybe I’m not going to be a maid of honor. I mean, I hope I’m not. This wedding has to be called off. And what will happen with the baby? Is Cora going to be a single mom?
I can hear Azure and Silas talking
.
Azure still sounds so thrilled. “I am so happy you could come over,” she says. “I really need you.”
“I know, Baby,” Silas responds. His voice is deep, low, and sexy. I feel so mad, I could spit. My thoughts turn back to my friend. My soon to be single, pregnant friend.
I’ll help her through the pregnancy. That’s what friends are for! And after she gives birth, I’ll bring over bulk packages of diapers, and little jars of baby food. I’ll take the baby out in a stroller, for long walks in the park. Cora will need some alone time, after all, if she’s going to keep her sanity. I’m going to be the most supportive friend and witch-sister I can be. Cora deserves it.
Want to know what she doesn’t deserve?
A cheating fiancé, that’s what.
“Come on in,” I hear Azure say.
“It’s cold out here,” Silas says. “It’s going to be good to warm up.”
“Pff!” I say, under my breath, as I roll my eyes. What kind of cheesy line is that?
I hear Azure’s door slam closed.
I peek around the corner, and see that the walkway is now deserted. They’ve disappeared inside. What are they doing in there?
Goodness only knows how Silas plans to ‘warm up.’ Probably the two of them are making out like two love-struck teenagers—right there in Azure’s entry way. Probably pressed against the doorway. The thought makes me feel even sicker.
How am I going to give this news to Cora?
How am I going to tell her that her fiancé is a cheater?
What if – oh, no! What if he’s more than a cheater? What if he’s an accomplice in murder? What if he’s a thief? What if he and Azure are plotting against the Terra Coven together?
I mean, Azure is on the top of my very short list of suspects. Now that I know that she and Silas are in cahoots, that implicates Silas as well, doesn’t it?
I need to see what they’re doing in there. I need to hear what they’re saying. Plus, if I’m going to break this news to Cora, I’d better have some hard evidence.
I mean, I definitely heard Silas call Azure ‘Baby.’ I saw them embracing. But I know Cora. She’s going to want to look on the bright side of things. ‘Oh, you’re mistaken, Penny,’ I can almost hear her say. ‘Silas would never do something like that. He’s a good guy.’
The Case of the Desire Spell Page 11
