Mathilda, SuperWitch (24 page)

Ack!

* * * * *

Ash:

Went to The Dungeon doors and knocked (all right, pounded).

He opened them and stood there, staring down at me, arms crossed on his chest.

Still nothing further after the Big O. He hasn’t asked me out on a date, come in and sat by me while I was watching television, given me a good morning kiss when I struggle into the kitchen for coffee. Nothing. Everything is back to normal with stalwart Ash – distant as ever.

Fuck him.

I don’t have time for that shit.

“You wanted me?” he said.

He wished.

(Well, I kinda did, to be honest, but only because I always pick the wrong guys.)

“We’re going up to Worcestershire, you and me. There’s a witch, used to be in Darling’s coven. I want to talk to her.”

“Who is she?”

“Althea Appleton.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

So bossy.

“Why?” I asked.

“One, you don’t have your magic. Two, Appleton is a member of a coven which we must consider hostile.”

“
Was
a member of a coven.”

“So she says.”

Such a know-it-all.

“And three, Althea Appleton is an oracle.”

Hunh?

“A what?”

“Look it up,” he advised and then he went back to The Dungeons.

I couldn’t help myself, I stamped my foot.

I’m never marrying you.
I thought towards the door.

And, get this – this is what popped into my head.

Yes you are.

Damn Ash.

* * * * *

Martini Night:

Josie, Lucy, Viv, Su and me and a bunch of fat, green olives, vodka fresh from the freezer, fab stemmed glasses and a stainless steel shaker (we had vermouth but it was on the kitchen counter, too far away to bother).

The Subject of Martini Night: Sebastian Quincy Wilding and the Big O.

Su’s Take: “Why are you worried? An orgasm is an orgasm is an orgasm. Take them as they come – no pun intended, be happy that they come, okay, pun intended, and don’t ask too many questions or they’ll quit coming.”

Josie’s Take: “I don’t know. Sebastian kind of scares me. I think you’re better off with Aidan.”

Lucy’s Take: “Just go to his door, get his ass up here and ask him what he’s up to. Seems to me, if Rory’s sneaking into your room at night to make sure you’re okay, it might be cramping his style. Could be as simple as that.”

My favorite:

Viv’s Take, after everyone else had gone off on new topic of “Where is the craziest place you’ve done it?” Su, of course, won by doing it in a tree, don’t ask me how she managed that feat but undoubtedly some love spell was involved:

“You know, Matty…” Viv whispered to me about the time Su was explaining the delicate act of balancing one buttock on a tree branch, “I saw the way you were after Darling got through with you – sorry, hon, but you were a mess.”

Great.

Then she went on, “It takes a witch’s intuition to read a guy like Sebastian so I’d say he’s falling for you.”

Hmm, seems to me Viv does not know about future-husband-and-father-of-my-two-boys-and-a-girl part of the story.

She kept talking. “It couldn’t have been easy for him to see you in that state. It wasn’t easy for any of us.”

Try being me!

And she kept right on going. “I think he’s controlling himself, trying to stay cool so he can protect you. After seeing you like that, not to mention seeing how well you’d done protecting your Spellbound, well, as you know, magic like that is seriously seductive.”

Er, no, I didn’t know.

“Anyway,” she forged on, “even the strongest man can lose control in the face of that. You know, the whole glamour of danger, glorying in life, celebrating your victory, seduced by your magic thing. I don’t think he intended to move that fast, although I do think he intended to make a move… just not that fast. Now he’s backing off. I may be wrong, but that’s what I think.”

Viv’s so clever.

I asked BecBec later before I poured myself into bed and she just said, ‘Eee… eeeeeee, eeh, eiyah,” then she giggled.

Whatever.

4 May

Finally!

They sure have taken their freakin’ time.

The Witches Council contacted me – sent a rolled up piece of lilac-colored homemade paper wrapped in a black satin ribbon.

Very dramatic.

It said:

On 14 May
(the day after my birthday, by the way),
at 23:45, Mathilda Guinevere Honeycutt will be tested for Potency of Magical Powers and Craft Integrity. These trials will be conducted at Ladye Bay by Endora Eccles (The Lady) and Seraphina Dingle (The Maiden).

As is custom, The Hag will rule.

Witch Honeycutt can bring her wand or athame (one or the other, not both), her cloak, her broom and one confederate, one familiar and one other.

Kind Regards,

The Witches Council

(Prunella Craddock, The Hag)

5 May

Beltane today.

Not too into the festival of fertility, love, union, yadda yadda, yadda.

BecBec is all crazy about it – made me decorate my tree with bright-colored ribbons (seemed to get happy vibes from tree so maybe not a bad idea).

Everyone else did the celebrating as well as the petal action in their sacred circles and then scattered them in the wood, around The Gables, The Dozen and the school, etcetera. (Couldn’t do it personally due to magical suspension.)

The petals give a little extra protection.

I guess, every little helps.

14 May

My birthday was yesterday.

The Good:

Presents (favorites noted):

Mavis: My own personal flying broomstick decorated with pink, blue and purple ribbons.

Viv (always super gift-giver): Fab, oversized, Jackie O sunglasses.

Lucy: The
Practical Magic
DVD. “Mate,” she said, “I’m not stupid.”

The Bad:

Josie: St. Jude medallion.

“We have our kind of protection too,” she said.

“But he’s the Patron Saint of Lost Causes,” I said.

She shrugged.

Ack!

The Ugly:

Was sitting under my tree (Beltane decorations looked kinda raggedy so had to get rid of them), taking Eleanora’s advice and meditating and communing with nature.

(Really escaping Gables where Nerissa had made a little mistake that caused a big explosion and I made the decision that I should be somewhere where I could breathe.)

Was wearing my birthday present to myself – lush mushroom velour yoga bottoms with powder-blue satin drawstring (low riders) and powder blue cami with satin ribbon threaded through to tiny bow at the vee in my cleavage (sweet). Plus zippered velour track top and blue ribbed skull-cap (with sequins knitted in – fab!) because warm weather mysteriously gone with April and now only watery-cold-sunlight. Blech.

I felt him before I saw him but I kept my eyes shut anyway.

When he got close enough, I said, “Well, if it isn’t the brilliant Dr. Aidan Knightly Seymour.”

“Hey, birthday girl,” he said and kissed me on the nose.

A little surprised at the kiss, and felt really nice (as in
really
) but I still didn’t open my eyes.

“How did you discover my middle name?” he asked.

“Me and the girls, doing a little bit of research these days.”

“Mm,” he mumbled.

Yowza.

Him saying “mm” all deep and both approving and disapproving sounded super-sexy.

Best open eyes.

So I did, saw he still looked hot as ever and I noted, “No longer indisposed, I see.”

“No.”

He was standing, leaning his back against a tree and staring down his nose at me.

Fancy, schmancy blokes who stare down their nose at you – damn them all the hell.

I stayed still (even though I wanted to get up and kick him on the shin), legs crossed, hands resting on my knees with palms up and fingers relaxed.

Calm and centered. (Ha!)

“Where were you?” I asked.

“Can’t say. Sorry, Matty.”

“Hmm. Somewhere where your mobile doesn’t work.”

“Yes.”

Oh.

Wasn’t expecting that answer.

Or any answer.

“Okay then…”

I closed my eyes again and pretended to ignore him.

He sighed. “I see you’re cross with me.”

It was my turn to mumble, “Mm.”

Silence.

Then.

More silence.

Okay, so I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Patience is a virtue I just
do not
have. All right?

I opened my eyes and scrambled to my feet.

“
The last time I saw you,” I said, jabbing my finger in his direction, “I was passing out due to being
struck by lightning!
Three times! Crack! Bang!
Sizzle!
Since then, no word, no call, no get well card, no checking up on me, no nothing!”

“Matty, I knew you were fine. Dr. Bennett told me and I do happen to be your watcher.”

“Well, do you have to watch so friggin’ quietly and from so far away?” I snapped.

He grinned.

Fucking grins.

“Sorry, darling. Unfortunately, most of the time, particularly when you or your Spellbounds aren’t in mortal danger, they do prefer me to watch quietly and from far away.”

It was the “darling” that got me.

Being called darling is very hot.

Man, oh man.

I’m a slut.

I was lusting after someone else when the father of my children was probably wrapping my present right now (he’d better be or I was never going to speak to him again).

“Listen, Aidan –” I started.

“I’ve got a birthday surprise for you. But you have to come to my place to get it.”

What? Was he nuts?

“Well, as much as I’d like to pop to Cambridge to get my birthday present, there’s a party for me tonight –”

“Your present isn’t at my place in Cambridge. It’s at my place on Wellington Terrace.”

What?

“
What?
” I semi-shrieked.

“I have a place in town.” Another grin. “Where do you think I go after a difficult night of following you around?”

He was flirting again.

And he lived in the town.

And he was following me around at night.

Ack!

(I cast my mind back to what I did last night – then remembered it was Karaoke Night at the pub and my choice was “Greased Lightnin’”. Ack!)

Great Goddess, I’ll shoot him (if I’m ever able to do magic again).

* * * * *

Though, you must admit, I kinda had to go because a) wanted to scope out where he lived and b) he had a present for me (yay!).

* * * * *

He had “a place on Wellington Terrace” all right.

Georgian detached right on the cliff, lots of happy clematis clinging to the house and the arbor in front, lots of room, somewhat modern and minimalistic decor that was dark and masculine and looked like a page out of a John Lewis catalogue, unrestricted view of the channel – which meant unrestricted view of The Gables on the outcrop, big, probably seriously powerful telescope on patio with which to spy on me at The Gables.

“Nice,” was all I would allow myself to say (still kinda peeved).

Really was more than nice, was fucking fabulous.

Man oh man.

This was hard, knowing I’d spend my life married to Ash but still, somehow, so attracted to Aidan.

Life sucked.

Aidan ordered, “Wait there.”

Then he left the room.

I stared at The Gables and I think I saw a small ball of flame shoot out of one of the windows.

“Nerissa,” I whispered.

“What?” It was Aidan, he was back and (I couldn’t believe it!) carrying a little, fluffy, sweet black kitty with green eyes and a pink satin bow around its neck.