Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel (21 page)

“One hundred?” I repeated, my jaw dropping open.

“Twenty dollars a stool,” he said, plucking out each mushroom with a long pair of wooden tweezers, laying them gently in a small box lined with white tissue paper.

“Well, pick out the best ones then,” I said, flipping open my bag again to dig out the money. “No,” I said, tapping the jar and startling him into dropping the scrawny little mushroom he was about to pick out. “The best ones.”

“Very well,” Morty said, his eyes narrowing at me for a moment before he moved to pick out a fatter, healthier one from the jar.

“Wouldn’t want to tarnish your perfect reputation by taking advantage of your neighbors, now would you, Morty?” I asked and blinked wide eyes up at him as he screwed the jar closed again. He made a tired noise as he placed the jar carefully back inside the cabinet.

He reached out for the money, but I snatched my hand away and slid the box closer to me and examined the contents. Only when I was satisfied he hadn’t pulled any vampire tricks or sleight of hand, I placed the lid on the box myself and then handed him the money. He counted it as deliberately as Frankie would have as I set the box under my scarf in my basket.

“Nice doin’ business with you,” I said, tipping an imaginary hat at him, “as always.”

“Good evening, Ms. Kavanagh.”

***

I kept my eyes forward as I walked past the front windows of Ronnie’s store, but I could still feel the burn of her stare on my face as I hurried by. Clutching the basket to my chest, I fumbled with my keys in the cold. I really wished Frankie would install one of those electronic scanner things the humans fancied so much. It would be much easier to wave a card in front of a reader than trying to get the old iron key out and into the lock in the dark.

I shoved the door open with my hip, walking in backward as I balanced my bag and basket and the keys, trying not to slip on the wet tile inside. Frankie didn’t think it was part of her job to make sure there was a carpet to sop up the rain, so if the maintenance man forgot to do it, then it didn’t get done. I could hear the soft murmur of voices drifting down to me as I climbed the steps to the lobby. When I came to the top, I saw Frankie standing behind her counter, bending over to brace her arms on the counter, giving the dark man she was talking to a clear view of her envy-inducing cleavage. If Frankie was anything, it was definitely not subtle.

Frankie laughed at something the man said. It was lilting and soft, almost musical, nothing I’d ever heard come out of her fanged mouth before. Her spikey hair was violet purple tonight and she’d managed to artfully place a fringe of bangs over her forehead, framing her eyes nicely as they glowed a complementary yellow. Frankie was on the hunt.

I was halfway to the elevator when the man at the counter called out to me. “Heya, Mattie,” his voice was a rich baritone that hit the walls, and suddenly I remembered who he was.

“Oh, hey, Kyle,” I said as I turned to face him. Frankie pushed away from the counter and glowered at me. I tried not to look at her, not wanting to show her any fear that I was sure was clear in my eyes. Hell, I’d tried to get to the elevator without drawing any attention to myself, hadn’t I?

“Thought you forgot about me,” Kyle said, pulling back a sleeve to check his watch, flashing some more of that twisting black ink against his dark skin. I grimaced and nodded, a pang of guilt going through me. After the creeper Tate and the fight with Ronnie, I had actually forgotten that I was supposed to meet with Kyle at seven. It was almost eight now. So professional.

“I suck. I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “If you still have time, you can come up now.”

“Yeah, now’s fine.” He smiled at me, not one ounce of annoyance in his voice. He was a strange breed of Were.

“Awesome,” I said, a little disappointed as I turned toward the elevator again and away from Frankie’s burning eyes. I pressed the call button as Kyle leaned toward Frankie again and spoke softly to her, but with his rich voice and the acoustics of the lobby, I heard him clearly.

“So, how about that number, dollface?” His hundreds of tiny braids were caught in a tie, wrapped in a thick ponytail at the base of his neck so they didn’t swing wildly like they had when we met. With his hair bound back, you really noticed the swell of his shoulders and back; I couldn’t even see Frankie they were so wide.

“Aren’t you the busy little wolf?” Frankie replied without any mirth in her voice.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Kyle said with a light chuckle. “That’s all business, ain’t that right, Mattie?” He said the last louder, over his shoulder. My shoulders shot up around my ears before I could stop them.

“Right,” I said with a weak laugh, keeping my eyes resolutely forward, watching the progression of the lights above the elevator door, willing it to move faster.

“So, how about it?” Kyle pressed, his voice dropping low again.

“If I give this to you and you don’t call me…” Frankie said. The sound of a pen clicked open.

“How could any man be stupid enough not to call you?” Kyle said. The elevator binged as it arrived and the doors opened with a shudder. I hurried inside, turning to face the lobby again, and placed my foot in front of the door to keep it open. Frankie was writing her number on Kyle’s palm, a coy smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. I looked away before she could catch me staring. I didn’t like to think what she would do if she realized I’d seen her like that, you know, nice and sweet.

“You better answer when I call,” Kyle said, blowing on his palm to dry the ink before he turned to join me on the elevator. I was impressed to see that Kyle didn’t strut; he simply walked with the calm confidence that showed in the set of his shoulders and lift of his chin. When he entered the elevator, he turned on a heel to face the doors and leaned a shoulder against the wall, shoving his fingers into the front pockets of his dark washed jeans. He grinned at Frankie once more and winked. I tried to pretend like I wasn’t watching, but I caught Frankie’s eye just as the door slid shut, the yellow flashing bright as her smile was replaced by the more familiar glare. I’d be lucky if she didn’t find some reason to tack on some bullshit fee to next month’s rent now.

“Gah!” I said, unable to help the full body tremor once we were passing the first floor. I tried to shake off the chills Frankie always managed to give me.

“Not a fan?” Kyle asked. When I glanced up at him, I was surprised to see him grinning down at me. In the bright light of the elevator, I saw that there was a hint of green around the black of his pupils, bleeding into the brown I saw the night before. Those eyes, that easy smile, broad shoulders, and confidence… Yeah, I bet he got every phone number he ever asked for.

“You could say that. But the feeling is mutual, I can promise you that.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he said with another chuckle. “She went from hot to cold in a second when she realized I was here to see you.”

“Sorry, hope I didn’t mess up your game or anything.” That earned me a full laugh and a pat on the shoulder. I took half a step forward to catch myself under the power of that simple pat, grimacing at the sting. He shot me an apologetic look.

“No, you didn’t mess up my
game
,” he teased.

“Shut up,” I said as the rickety elevator came to a stop on my floor. I walked out without another word, knowing he would follow me.

I started fumbling with the keys again, nearly dropping my basket. Kyle’s large hand shot out to catch it and he took it from me, offering to take my bag too, but I waved him off and managed to get the key in the knob to let us in.

Artie was waiting for me at the door, but as soon as he got a whiff of Kyle, he hissed and spit before bolting under the couch. His yellow eyes blinked in the darkness as he growled low in his belly.

“Sorry about that,” Kyle said, but he sounded more amused than apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a shake of my head, pulling the strap of my bag over my head and tossing it on to a chair. “He’ll get over it when he’s hungry enough.”

“Right,” Kyle agreed, setting the basket of goodies on the kitchen table.

“Have a seat,” I said, waving at the living room, “make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink? Tea, water, a brew?”

“Tea would be nice, thanks,” Kyle said as he walked into the living room. He pinched at his jeans before he sat down on the couch. I could see Artie’s eyes blinking from the dark depths between Kyle’s feet, making me smirk. Now he was good and trapped.

Snatching the basket off the table, I made my way into the kitchen. I needed to store the mushrooms properly before they dried out and ruined the recipe for the chocolates. Wetting a paper towel, I stuffed it into the bottom of a glass jar and then dumped the mushrooms on top, screwing the lid on. I eyed the jar and watched until the tiny, hair-like roots started to twist and reach for the damp paper towel at the bottom. Once a few had latched on, I felt safe enough to tuck the jar into a dark cabinet until I could start spelling.

Setting the kettle on the stove, I found my wand on the window sill, the thin piece of wood still warm from the sun’s rays. I twirled it in my fingers before tapping the stove with the tip, making the burner under the kettle flame to life. Satisfied that it was well and truly charged, I set it back on the sill, not wanting to waste any power with parlor tricks.

I went about readying a tray while I waited for the water to boil. I was rummaging through a cabinet for my stash of cookies when the kettle began to whistle. Picking up my wand again I jabbed at the flames, extinguishing them before I tore into a fresh sleeve of cookies and spilled a few out onto a plate.

I nearly dropped the entire tray when I came around the corner into the living room at the sight on my couch. Kyle was sitting back, his right foot braced on his left knee, creating a well in his lap where Artemis was curled, eyes closed and purring while Kyle stroked his black fur.

“Well I’ll be a hobgoblin’s uncle,” I said as I set the tray down on the coffee table. “How did this happen?”

“I have a way with animals,” Kyle said with a one shoulder shrug.

“But a cat?” I asked, pointing accusingly at my familiar.

“Oh yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “even cats.”

“Well,” I said as I picked up the sugar bowl, “that’s good enough for me. Sugar?”

“Just cream,” Kyle said with a shake of his head. I added two pink sugar cubes to my cup. “What is good enough for you?”

“Oh, that Artie trusts you,” I said as I added cream to both our cups, stirring Kyle’s before I handed it to him.

“Does that mean you trust me then?”

“If he does, then yes,” I said, picking up my cup before settling into the plush armchair, sinking into the cushions.

“And if he didn’t trust me?”

I shrugged before taking an experimental sip of my tea. It was still a little hot, but not unbearable. “I’d take your money, but I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you and I doubt that would be very far.”

“Well thank you, kind sir,” Kyle said, scratching Artemis between his ears.

“Prrrrrrooow,” Artie replied, kneading the top of Kyle’s leg, his claws making tiny popping noises as he scratched Kyle’s jeans.

“You’ll never be rid of him now,” I said over the edge of my cup. “He can spot a sucker from a mile away.” Kyle laughed at that before taking a sip of his tea. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the flavor and the heat. I hadn’t worried about it being too hot for him since Were body temperatures ran so high they hardly ever wore coats even in the dead of winter.

“So,” I said, leaning forward to set my cup on the table and grab one of the cookies. “What can I do for you?”

“Right down to business, huh?” Kyle grinned again, leaning forward to help himself to a cookie as well, making Artie growl in protest as he was smushed for a moment before Kyle sat back again.

“I hate to rush you,” I said, biting into the sugary treat, “but yeah, I have other appointments tonight.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Well, you see, I get these headaches.”

“Headaches?”

“Yeah, like the most intense migraine you could imagine.”

“And you want me to brew something for you.”

“I do.” Kyle nodded. He popped the entire cookie in his mouth, not losing so much as one tiny crumb as he ate the whole thing. “See, I’ve tried human meds, but they don’t work on me.”

“Your metabolism is too fast,” I said, taking another bite of my own cookie, a burst of crumbs flying to land on my chest and lap. I brushed them away quickly, avoiding Kyle’s eye.

“That’s why? Huh.” Kyle considered my words with a nod. “Also tried pain amulets, but the best they do is take the edge off.”

“Skin’s too thick,” I said, reaching for my cup.

“How’s that?” Kyle asked.

“Weres, trolls, giants,” I said, “you all have very thick skin, so most spells can’t penetrate you, so a pain amulet, which works through ambient magic, really won’t be able to affect you.”

“Well damn,” Kyle said with a shake of his head. “Been wasting my money then.”

“Or someone’s been stealing it from you.”

“How do you mean?”

“You’ve been getting pain amulets from a witch, right? Or a warlock?”

“Warlock,” Kyle said, and for the first time, I heard a change in his voice. It was a dangerous tone I didn’t ever want to hear directed at me. He was starting to understand me even before I spelled it out for him.

“Yeah, a warlock, even a hedge witch, knows that amulets aren’t really gonna help a Were,” I explained. “He did know you were a Were, right?”

“He did,” Kyle nodded.

“I’d say he was stealing from you then.”

“Well ain’t that a thorn in the paw on a midnight run,” Kyle said, and I had to fight not to choke on my tea when I laughed. It was just a little too homespun a phrase for someone like Kyle to say.

“At least you found me,” I said trying to soothe his pride. “I can make you something for those headaches.”

“Wonderful,” Kyle said, and just like that, his voice shifted back to that soothing rich tone and put you at ease while Artie continued to purr in his lap.