Michele Hauf - The Witch And The Werewolf

Pushing open the screen door, she leaned out into the cool spring air and scanned her backyard. It was close to midnight, yet her yard was always illuminated from the house light above the door where she stood, and the dozen solar lights pushed into the lawn at five-foot intervals that framed the backyard.

Suddenly something ran into view. A deer? Wildlife always dashed through the neighborhood yards. Raccoons, beavers, deer, once even a black bear.

Mireio stepped out onto the bamboo patio rug, holding the screen door open with two fingers. She peered into the night, thinking her species, witches, had gotten ripped off because they didn’t have cool night vision like vampires and werewolves. Suddenly an animal stopped, twenty feet away, in the middle of her yard.

She recognized the creature with an ease that made her heart sink.

“A werewolf,” she gasped.

Removing her hand from the screen door to put her fingers to her mouth, she suddenly felt a cool breeze skim her bare skin. More skin than should have been exposed. The towel had gotten caught in the door and fallen away, leaving her standing naked beneath the house light, unable to form words as she met the werewolf’s golden gaze.

The creature, who in fully shifted form was half wolf, half man, thrust back his shoulders and lifted his chest, looking ready to howl. But when his gold eyes dragged away from hers and down her body...

Mireio tried to cover herself as she actually said, “Eek!”

The wolf snorted and a low growling noise rumbled in the night. It didn’t sound threatening. In fact, to her it sounded...amorous.

Mrs. Henderson’s scream sounded again. It was the catalyst to setting the werewolf off in a dash out of the yard.

Released from the spell of the creature’s piercing gaze, Mireio grabbed the door pull and opened it, reaching for the towel and quickly wrapping it around her body.

Just in the nick of time because from around the corner of her backyard appeared a policeman, and in his wake, Mrs. Henderson.

“Did you see it?” Mrs. Henderson, wrapped in a thick white terry robe, scampered over to the patio, the ears on her bunny slippers bobbing.

Tugging the towel up higher and this time clasping it firmly, she stood before the elderly policeman, whom she knew lived on the other side of Mrs. Henderson. Mireio nodded. “Uh, yes?”

“I told you!” Mrs. Henderson slapped the policeman’s back, who shrugged and winced. He was accustomed to answering Mrs. Henderson’s cries of wolf at all hours of the day.

But had this been a true cry of wolf? Best not to let humans know that.

“It was a deer,” Mireio hastily tossed out. “Or maybe a moose. Yes, I’m sure that’s what it was.”

“A moose?” Mrs. Henderson jammed her bony fists to her hips. “It was Bigfoot!”

“All right, all right,” the policeman said, placating his neighbor with a pat to her back. “Miss Malory here says it was a moose. She’s got very good eyesight, and her backyard is well lit. So if she says it was a moose, I believe her. Let’s go home now, Mrs. Henderson. Leave Miss Malory to...her bath.”

To his credit he didn’t eye her blatantly, only tipped a nod to her and turned Mrs. Henderson around, walking her back to her yard. All the way they argued over why a moose would be wandering through the tulips when it had very obviously been Bigfoot.

Mireio stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door and locked it. She peered out the now-defogged window, attempting to sight the werewolf. Perhaps spy a wolfish shadow backlit by the moonlight.

Whispering a protection spell to encompass her yard, she sent it out with a blown kiss.

Why had a werewolf been wandering through the neighborhood? That wasn’t common. Too risky. And it wasn’t even the full moon. Werewolves were much smarter than that. They knew to stay away from humans when shifted.

“It was a good thing for him I scared him off.”

Mireio winced. She had scared the wolf away with her naked body? Not one of her finest moments.

On the other hand, that look it had given her. Definitely animal, but also...maybe kind of...sexual.

She shook her head. “You’re a silly witch. Just be thankful you didn’t flash the whole neighborhood. Ha!”

The music now blared Taylor Swift. Dropping her towel, Mireio performed a hip shimmy as she reached to drain the tub and then blew out the candles one by one, blessing the water goddess Danu as she did so.

* * *

Three nights later, Mireio stayed late after her shift at The Decadent Dames. She and her three witch friends owned the microbrewery in Anoka. Mireio was the master brewer. They all brewed and worked shifts and took turns scheduling, but Mireio was the early riser, so she generally arrived around six in the morning to start the day’s brew and finished about an hour before they opened in the afternoon. Today, she’d gotten a late start so had finished the brew hours after opening.

A local band that covered current pop hits was set up before the front windows and the house was packed. At the moment, the lead singer belted out a cover of Meghan Trainor’s “NO,” which was an anthem to a woman not needing a man.

Singing the chorus, “Untouchable, untouchable,” Mireio danced by herself amid the crowd on the dance floor, arms thrust high and hips swaying her short red-and-blue-tartan skirt. Nothing felt better than a beer buzz and dancing. And she had new, red, five-inch heels to break in, so much dancing was required. Tossing her bright red corkscrew curls over a shoulder, she let out an exhilarated hoot.

Eryss, the brewery’s principal owner, danced up to Mireio. She and her boyfriend, a former witch hunter who lived in Santa Cruz, California, split their time between cities during the year and soon she’d be headed for the sunny West Coast. Her friend’s long skirts dusted the hardwood floor and she grasped Mireio’s hands and the twosome danced for a few seconds.

“You look happy,” Eryss said over the noise.

“I am! I’m always happy!”

“It’s contagious!” Then Eryss leaned in to speak close at Mireio’s ear. “Did you notice the hunk at the bar who has been eyeing you up fiercely for the last ten minutes?”

“What?” Mireio abruptly stopped dancing and glanced to the bar, which was fronted by rusted corrugated tin in keeping with their rustic theme. She scanned from the left end of the bar to the right, and there at the end a big, beefy man with a mustache and beard, and long brown hair tied behind his head, lifted his pint glass to tip toward her. Handsome. “Huh.” But. “Didn’t notice. I’m in my zone, don’t you know?”

“Yeah, I got that. I wish I could find the zone so easily nowadays. Whew!” Eryss blew a strand of long hair from her face. She had a six-month-old at home who lately had been keeping her up nights because of teething. “But don’t be too untouchable tonight, okay? That man is sexy times two.”

“Don’t tell me that, Eryss. I’m not in the market for a—Oh, my goddess, he’s coming over here.”

“Then I’m going to leave you to him.”

“No! Eryss!”

The man pushed by two people and deftly avoided a bull terrier sitting beside his owner’s table. (Yes, the brewery was dog friendly.) He was halfway across the room.

“Please don’t be a creeper. Please don’t be a creeper.” Mireio performed a hip swinging turn and he stood right before her. “Oh!”

Big brown eyes looked into her soul almost as deeply as if he could do a soul gaze. Of which, only witches were capable. And no one in town knew the owners of The Decadent Dames were witches. Well, mostly no one.

“Oh, hey,” she offered.

Eryss had been right in her assessment of the man. But more like sexy times infinity. His dark brown hair was tied behind his head and his beard was trimmed neatly to reveal a snow-white smile. Chocolate brown eyes? Dreamy. Dimples? Oh, mercy. And he smelled like a forest after the rain.