“You eat them though. Isn’t that kind of, I dunno…?” I scratched my head, then wished I hadn’t as my hands were filthy.
Trace smiled again, this time with understanding. “We have to eat. And I’m not saying plants are sentient in the same way as animals, but there’s still a balance that needs fulfilling. I thank them for providing me with sustenance. Like, if I kept chickens, I would thank them for the eggs they laid, even if I do personally find chickens rather lacking in conversational niceties.” He frowned at the tree, then grabbed a second spade. “You’re going to need a bigger hole.”
I snorted. “Bet youdon’tsay that to all the boys.”
He whipped his head around. Oh God, why did I say this shit? I could feel my cheeks heating up. Trace’s eyes, however, were alight with mischief. “How delightfully rude of you, James. Working with you is proving to be a lot of fun.”
I wasn’t surefunwas the word I’d have used, but we found some kind of rhythm, me digging the holes, Trace expanding them if necessary, then adding compost or fertiliser, and in some cases both — I hadn’t known the difference until Trace explained — before carefully settling another bush or tree into its new home
By the time Edwin appeared after sunset with mugs of tea for us both, we’d made steady progress. All the individual plants that had arrived in large containers were now positioned where Trace assured me they should thrive. “With a little bit of magic and some good old-fashioned luck,” he murmured. He exhaled a huge sigh. “I’m worried about my herb garden though.”
“Why?” Edwin asked.
“The garden is lovely, don’t get me wrong, but because it’s smaller than I’m used to, it’s more shady in places than is ideal. A lot of the herbs are low growing and love more sun than I think they’re going to get. Don’t think I’m bitching, because I’m so grateful to have a place to move to, but yeah…” He shook his messy hair out of his eyes and I could see they were pained.
“These herbs,” Edwin mused. “They don’t have to live in the back garden, do they?”
Trace eyeballed him. “I need them near enough to keep an eye on, and to use for my potions and for cooking. Please don’t suggest an allotment.”
“I wasn’t going to. Why not use the front garden? It’s not particularly private, so I wouldn’t suggest chatting to Terrance while you’re working or one of the neighbours might call the local circus or suggest you need psychiatric help. But otherwise, if you want to avail yourself of the space, have at it.”
“But it’s full of flowers.”
Edwin gave him a look that suggested he was having trouble believing Trace wasn’t keeping up. “Can we not dig them up? Or will they have ruined the soil? We can buy in some new soil if you?—”
“They’re yourplants,Edwin.” Trace visibly winced. “I can’t just dispose of them.”
“Would the flowerbeds work if you repurposed them?” Edwin persisted.
“Yes, they’d be perfect. Okay, a little near to the road for perfection, but nothing I can’t overcome with patience and occasional magic. But?—”
“But nothing. If you think I can replant any of these anywhere, then put me to work.” Edwin began rolling up his sleeves. “Otherwise they’ll have to make a self-sacrifice to the bin gods for the better good of witches everywhere. C’mon, man, I’m committed to supporting you in any way I can. Also,” he battedhis lashes comically, “contrary to my reputation as a pretty party boy with a fancy wardrobe, I didn’t grow up wealthy or entitled. I’m good at getting my hands dirty. Put. Me. To. Work.”
Trace looked away for a moment. When he turned back, his eyes were glittering furiously. “I’m fully aware of your formidable abilities as a tracker, Eddie, and the rest. The recent manhunt and its rather violent conclusion alone would have clued me in to your being willing to get your hands dirty.” He shot me a quick glance, possibly checking I wasn’t freaking out. “I… I’m not used to people being so kind. It took me by surprise.” He seemed to dredge up a smile from the vicinity of his boots. “I accept your offer of the flowerbeds and your labour, thank you. But please do go and change into something less obviously designer, or I’ll spend the whole time twitching.”
Edwin closed the distance between them, then grabbed my hand and pulled the three of us into a grubby, muddy circle. He took Trace by the neck and I just knew he was caressing him under the messy fall of his ponytail. “What part of being here for you didn’t you understand the other day? We meant what we said at Baxter’s party. We want this to work between us all. That won’t happen unless we’re in it for the lows as well as the highs. They’re only flowers, love. We can grow more.” He pressed a firm, slow kiss to Trace’s stunned mouth. “I don’t know who in your past made you think you weren’t deserving of respectandlove, but fuck ’em. That’s not me, and not James either. Right, James?”
I gulped, but managed to stammer an affirmative. My heart was racing like a greyhound straight out of the gates. I wanted so much for Edwin to be happy. I could tell having Trace living here would bring him so much joy, but to hear him spell it out when we were standing on the very earth where Trace would be rebuilding his life hammered it home. This wouldbehis home, as well as mine and Edwin’s. As a threesome, throuple. Badlywonky triangle of mismatched hearts and minds with a will to bring brighter days to our varied existences. It was terrifying, and yet nothing had ever felt so right. I trembled with the enormity of what we were attempting.
Before I could get overwhelmed by the path my thoughts were heading down, Edwin bent his head to mine and took my mouth with the same deliberate thoroughness he’d kissed Trace. I gasped as his tongue licked carefully over my teeth, then connected with my own as if asking if I minded the intrusion.
I didn’t mind. Not at all. Although this was new territory for me as Edwin hadn’t asked me out loud for consent before touching me this way. I realised he now knew me well enough to have ascertained my eagerness by all the tells he could pick up on with his vampire senses; my breathing rate, heartbeat, even my perspiration levels could apparently clue him in to how receptive I was at any time. It was still vaguely embarrassing, but I found myself caring less and less as time went on. What mattered was that he wanted me.
I moaned. At least, I think it was me. I felt my body responding to him, unheeding of the filthy state I’d got myself into or how I was mussing up his pristine loveliness. He shuffled me even closer, until the reality of his erection poking my hip made my eyes fly open and my lips part. “I…uh…”
“Okay, love, I’ll stop. I’m sorry. This probably isn’t comfortable for you.” His smile was soft but radiant, with the tiniest hint of teasing. “I didn’t want you to get jealous I was kissing Trace and not you.”
“Idiot,” I grumped at him. But he knew me, and that my confidence was shaky when he was around Trace. “I’m not that fragile.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem if you were. Any decent human being should care about the comfort of someone they l—like as much as I like you.” He stepped back a pace, instantly makingme wish he hadn’t, grinning at Trace. “These aren’t posh clothes. If I stop to change, you’ll get less working time out of me. Let’s do this.”
We dug a whole new flowerbed under the front wall of the garden where it met the pavement. Firstly, we had to lift a row of paving stones that had embedded themselves in the soil below as if glued. Edwin was a machine, freeing and then levering each one up with his bare hands, simply tugging until an edge became loose. He then assisted Trace and me to clear them of the debris of over twenty years in situ, before lifting each slab as if it weighed nothing and walking them around to their temporary new home inside the garage. Trace had plans for them if the light in his eyes was any indication.
Next, we needed to improve the soil. Edwin was as competent with a spade as he was with his hands, slicing through the earth to a depth of half a metre or so, breaking up clumps embedded with rocks and stones, making piles that I ran back and forth with, stacking them in a tidy heap in a corner, again according to Trace’s wishes. Trace and I sieved what felt like a house-sized amount of soil, some of it brought through from the back, until my arms burned with the effort of holding them out, then the three of us worked compost and the extra soil into the broken-up earth that remained after our initial excavations.
I’d initially thought Edwin’s suggestion of binning all the flowers and starting over was the smartest, but as the hours passed and I saw how much we’d achieved, I felt relieved Trace had overruled Edwin’s easy fix. At some point in the early hours of the following morning though, I took a seat on one of the low walls for a breather and my legs totally refused to stand back up.
“Guys, I think I might need a drink or something.”I’m completely fucked.I hadn’t meant to continue until I was nolonger physically able to move, but I could feel myself swaying even sitting down.
