She studied the jack-o’-lantern on her mug. She’d bought them at the last Halloween festival from a female werewolf who made the most fantastic pottery. “I do. Ever since I was a kid, I loved pumpkins. Between Halloween and the whole Cinderella’s pumpkin carriage thing, I was sold on the magic of them. Someday I’ll figure out how to actually conjure up a pumpkin carriage for the kids to ride in that wouldn’t be super gooey inside.”
Malcolm’s rich laugh made her grin. It was like drinking hot, spicy cider on a cold autumn night. It burned through her in the best possible way.
“So if you don’t like pumpkins, what do you like, Mr. Firestarter?” she teased.
He drank some of his hot chocolate before replying. The green of his eyes darkened into a rich emerald.
“I like the woods. Being out in the trees and the forests. I’m not a professional hiker or anything, but just being outside… it feels like I’m free.”
“I thought you said you lived in Boston?”
“No, I came here from Boston. It’s where my parents live. I live in New York.”
“Okay, that place has even fewer trees.” She couldn’t imagine him living in a big city if he loved the woods.
“It’s not like I’m there all the time. I ride out on the weekends, go to the Catskills or the Adirondacks every few weeks. I work remote when I can. I dunno, I just like being there. It’s like there’s something speaking to you in the trees. Like they know all the secrets of life and are trying to tell you, by not telling you.” He said it so huskily she wondered if he realized he was talking seductively about trees.
“You sure you’re not part werewolf?”
“Maybe. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom during a full moon…” He tipped his head back and howled.
Hades came barreling down the staircase and howled far louder than Malcolm had. Calli and Malcolm covered their ears.
“Hades, knock it off, it was just me!” Malcolm bellowed. Only then did the dog stop howling. Calli laughed at the dog’s startled expression. “Sorry, I had no idea he would do that.” Malcolm chuckled. “He is usually better behaved. I don’t think he’s used to being around this much magic.”
“You don’t practice magic at home?” She pulled a blanket around her to cuddle deeper into the couch. The leather of the couch was as soft as butter against her skin.
“Not really.” The humor in his eyes vanished. “Magic and I don’t have a great relationship. I don’t really use it, not on purpose anyway. I run a software company and magic isn’t a part of my life. Other than when I’m visiting my parents, I’m not exposed to much magic.”
“You don’t have witch or warlock friends?”
Malcolm shook his head. “Not really. I grew up near old school magical families, and most of the kids didn’t want to hang around a house with a kid whose powers were a bit wonky and who had a mom that was non-magical. When I switched to a non-magical school when I was older I made more friends there.”
He glanced around. “You really don’t have a familiar?”
His change of subject caught her off guard. A pang of sorrow hit her hard. “No, my grandmother said in our family we tend to get familiars when we open ourselves up to the most powerful magic there is.”
“What kind of magic is that?” he asked.
Her face flamed as she answered. “Love.”
“Ahh, the answer to life’s mysteries,” he chuckled.
“Well, my grandmother always was a romantic. I think it makes sense. Blood magic taps into your soul, hedge magic taps into nature… but love… everyone has access to love if they’re brave enough to let it in. And that’s an entirely different sort of power… one that would create a familiar to bond to.”
“You’ve never been in love then?” Malcolm’s voice was colored with surprise.
“I guess not. Not a lot of eligible warlocks come through town except during the Halloween festivals, and they often leave a day or two later.”
“You’re determined to marry a warlock, then?”
She shook her head. “Not necessarily, but werewolves are a little too overactive for my liking. I work with a vampire at my bookstore in town, and he’s wonderful, but there’s no chemistry between us. As for humans… I wouldn’t want to hide my magic from whoever I love. People like your mother, humans who aren’t afraid or jealous of magic, are pretty rare.”
“That makes sense,” Malcolm agreed. “I’m sure if you liked magic it would be hard not to use it. I never use mine, so living a human life is easy.”
They enjoyed the rest of their drinks in silence, then Malcolm suddenly sat up. “I just remembered why I’ve heard of this place!” He laughed. “That must be how I ended up here.”
Calli waited for him to explain.
