Michele Hauf - This Strange Witchery

Melissande shooed the frog into the dining area where the table mimicked the curve of the windows and wall. The fat, squat amphibian slowly made its way forward, but not without a protesting croak. He did not care to be ordered about. “That’s Bruce, my familiar. And he does not float.”

“Looks like it’s floating to me.” Tor sat before the counter, checking Bruce with another assessing glance.

“He’s a levitating frog,” Melissande provided with authority.

“I don’t think I understand the difference.”

“Anyone, or any creature, can float. And a floater just, well...floats. But a frog who levitates? That implies he’s doing it of his free will. Not many can do that. Am I right?”

Tor’s brow lifted in weird acceptance. He tugged at his tie.

“I hope you like smoothie bowls.” She pushed the bowl of breakfast toward him and held up a spoon.

Tor took the spoon, but his attention was all over the bowl of pureed kiwi and pear spotted with dragon fruit cut in the shape of stars and sprinkles of cacao and coconut. “It’s...blue?”

“The algae powder makes it blue. Lots of good minerals in that. Do you like hemp seeds?”

“I...don’t know.” He prodded a small pear sphere that she had cut out and added to the bowl arranged to look like a night sky filled with stars. “It’s so...decorative. I’m not sure I can eat it.”

“Of course you can. Dig in. It’s super healthy, and the dragon fruit is only in season for a short time. I already ate. I have a tendency to graze more than sit down for official meals. When you’re finished we can discuss your payment plan.”

“My payment plan?” He scooped a helping of the smoothie and tasted it. With an approving nod, he ate more.

“You did say you were on the job last night. I took that to mean you were going to protect me.”

She fluttered her eyelashes, knowing she had abnormally long lashes. The action was one of her well-honed man-catcher moves. Well, she hadn’t actually field-tested it as a kinetic magic, but surely it had some power.

Tor sighed, and the spoon clinked the side of the bowl. “Really? Using the ole bat-your-lashes move on me?”

“Did it work?” she asked gleefully.

He shook his head and snickered. “I am impervious.”

Standing on the opposite side of the counter from him, Melissande leaned onto her elbows and gave him another devastating flutter. “That’s very sad that a man has to make himself impervious to a harmless little thing like me.”

“You, I suspect, are far from harmless.” He plucked out a star of white dragon fruit speckled with tiny black seeds and downed it. Stabbing the air in her direction with the spoon, he said, “I’m not buying the tea story. There was something in that brew. And you are a witch.”

“Wow, you got that on the first guess.”

“Don’t patronize me. I know my paranormals. All ilks, from shapeshifters to alchemists, to the feral and the half-breeds. And I know...” He set down the spoon and looked her straight in the eyes.

And Melissande’s heart did a giddy dance as his brown irises glinted with such a promise she didn’t know how to describe it, only it made her know—just know —that he had been the right choice. In more ways than she could fully realize.

“Fine.” He looked away from her gaze, clutching for the knot in his tie to ease at it self-consciously.

“Fine?”

He conceded with a headshake that was neither a yes nor a no. At least, he was trying hard not to make it an all-out yes. “To judge from the events that have taken place since we’ve met, it is obvious you need protection from—whatever that thing you have in your purse is attracting. And I would never refuse to defend anyone in need.”

Melissande clasped her hands together.

“But I would prefer you simply hand over the heart and let me place it in safekeeping.”

“Can’t do that, because I know you won’t give it back.”

“You are correct. The Agency takes containment and security very seriously. Once we obtain an item, there is no way in hell—or Beneath—we’ll let that thing out of hand or sight.”

“Then that’s a big no way on the safekeeping suggestion. And I know you can’t take it from me because that would be stealing, and that’ll have magical repercussions.”

“Yeah? Did you steal the heart?”

“I...” She walked her fingers along the counter toward the dish towel and grabbed it, then turned to dust the front of the fridge.

“As suspected. Guess that means I’m on the clock for the next handful of days, eh?”

Melissande tossed the towel to the sink and clapped gleefully. “Oh, thank you! You won’t regret it. I won’t be trouble. I promise.”

“That promise has already been broken. Twice over.” He scooped in more of the smoothie. “But this ornamental fruit thingy makes up for some of it.” He twisted his wrist to check his watch. “I didn’t expect to take on a protection job. I do have other plans, and an online appointment I need to make in less than two hours. I have to go home to clean up and prepare.”

“Then you’ll come back?”

He finished off the smoothie bowl and stood. “You’re coming with me. From this moment, I won’t let you out of my sight. Not until our contract is complete.”

“We have a contract?”

He held out his hand to shake, and Melissande slapped her palm against his. His wide, strong hand held hers firmly. And if she hadn’t been so excited for his acceptance, she would have swooned in utter bliss. Maybe she did a little of it anyway, but she gripped the counter to keep her knees from bending and sinking too far into the silly reaction.

“Yes, now we have a gentleman’s contract,” he said. “Grab whatever you need for the day. We’ll discuss details and logistics later, after I’ve finished with the appointment. Do you think you can stay out of my hair while I do that?”

“Of course. Although, you’ve some very nice hair. I almost ran my fingers through it while I was watching you sleep.”

“You were watch—” Tor put up a palm. “Don’t want to know. Let’s head out.”

“I’ll get my things!”

“Uh...” Tor glanced toward the dining table. “The frog stays here.”

“Of course he does,” Melissande said. With a snap of her fingers, the door leading out to the narrow side yard opened a few inches. “He’ll be going out for his noontime bug hunt, anyway!”

This was not how he’d intended his day to go.

Tor liked to keep to a schedule, which could be significantly different from day to day. But that he planned in advance for the following day’s events was key. He was always prepared, even for surprises.

Most surprises, anyway. A cute witch sitting in his van with a strange, glowing heart in her purse? That had been an unexpected one.

He walked into his apartment, followed by the witch, who carried two big bags of—whatever it was witches felt the need to carry with them. Please, do not let it be rank and slithery spell supplies. He didn’t mind the creepy stuff, so long as it was on his terms.

“I’ve but an hour before the interview,” he said with a glance at his watch. “This is the kitchen. There are food and drinks in the fridge. I’m going to shower and shave. Please, don’t touch anything that looks like it shouldn’t be touched.”

“So that means everything?” Melissande dropped her bags to either side of her feet.

Tor winced as he heard something hard clunk against the marble floor. “Exactly. You did bring the heart along?”

“Of course.”

“I assume you’ve hexed it well to prevent those we don’t want sensing it from...sensing it?”