Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (18 page)

“Yes, it does,” I agreed with a nod. “And just imagine how much worse it smells to a wolf, whose olfactory senses are so much more heightened than ours. They won’t want to come within five hundred feet of you if you’re wearing it.”

“And if they do?” There was a pinched look to Whelan’s eyes, making him look much older than his twenty-one years.

“It’ll burn,” I said.

“How’s that?”

“The closer they come, the more it’ll burn their sinuses. If they manage to get within arm’s-length of you, they’ll destroy their sinuses, and believe me, that is one thing a Were won’t give up.”

“That’s for sure,” Fletcher chimed in as he came up behind me. “I can still smell the bane up here. The fumes are clinging to all of you just from being in the apartment. I can’t imagine what it would be like for a Were.”

“Wait, what?” Ronnie asked, spinning around to face us. Her phone was clutched in one hand, hanging down by her leg.

“What?” Fletcher and I asked together.

“We all smell like wolf’s bane?” Ronnie asked as she hurried over to Fletcher’s side. She grabbed his sleeve, bunching the black cotton in her grip.

“Well, yeah,” he said slowly. “I mean, she’s been steeping it in the kitchen for a while, right? The whole floor smells like it.”

“Tadpoles on toast,” I swore, stomping my foot.

“What?” Laney asked.

“Nothing. My landlady is probably going to skin me alive if she comes home tonight.” I could just imagine Frankie riding up the elevator, her sinuses stinging more and more the closer she got to my floor—and she had to pass mine to get to hers. I’d had my front door open all night for the trick-or-treaters, so surely the smell was in the hallway and probably the elevator by now. “What time is it?”

I reached for Ronnie’s hand to check the time on her phone, but she snatched it back. Not before I saw her long text conversation with someone though. I lifted a brow as she turned her face away.

“Almost eleven,” Ronnie said, acting as though she was just looking away to check the time.

“Okay,” I drew out the word. “I started the potion at four o’clock. I think that’s been long enough.” I grabbed my skirts and hurried for the door that led to the stairwell. “I’ll be right back!”

I heard footsteps behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder as I wrenched the door open. Ronnie was right behind me. Her face was flushed, and her lips were pressed together in a tight line. I knew she wouldn’t answer my questions in front of everyone, so I just kept my mouth shut and led us through the stairwell. When I pulled open the door to my floor, the smell hit me like a punch in the face. It was a wonder it hadn’t kept any of the trick-or-treaters away. Maybe they had thought it was all part of the ambiance I’d created with the lights and fog. Since we’d been outside, away from the smell, coming back to it was like walking into the Bog of Eternal Stench.

“It smells like a pack of bridge dwellers, Matt,” Ronnie moaned. She’d tugged her sleeve over her hand and held it to her face, protecting her mouth and nose.

“I know.” I opened my door, ran to the kitchen, and snatched my wand.

I jabbed the tip at the flames and extinguished them. Having planned on letting the potion simmer unattended, I’d used my wand to create magical flames, rather than using the gas burner. The last thing I needed was for the flames to go out, fill my apartment with gas, and blow up the whole place. As I placed a lid over the pot to contain any more offending steam, Ronnie ran around the apartment, opening the windows and letting in the cold October air. When I caught up to her, she was in my bedroom, going through all of my perfumes and lotions.

“Can I help you?” I asked behind her.

“I need to get this smell off me.”

“Why?”

“Because I stink.”

“But what’s the big deal?”

Ronnie turned around, a bottle of perfume clutched in each hand. Her brown eyes were a little too wide and her face a little too pale. I’d never seen her look so worried in all the years we’d known each other.

“Is Spencer coming over?” I asked.

Ronnie didn’t answer right away. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard and finally nodded.

“Girl, you got it bad, don’t you?”

“Just help me,” she said. After a moment, she added, “Please.”

“Put those down.”

Ronnie stared at me, her eyes bulging for a moment.

“Seriously, Weres don’t like perfume.” I tugged the bottles out of her hands and placed them back on my dresser. “You know that.” A flush colored her cheeks, in her panic she’s been forgetting things.

I took Ronnie’s hand and pulled her back into the kitchen. I felt her start to fight against me, afraid of getting closer to the offending potion, so I let her go when I reached the living room. I continued to the kitchen alone. I picked up my wand and rushed back to her side. Ronnie seemed unsure of what to do with her hands as she waited for me to do whatever I was planning. I told her to hold out her hands, then I lifted my wand and drew a complicated pattern in the air. Soon the invisible lines became visible, glowing a soft blue.

Then I said the incantation. “
Proluo prolu prolutum
.”

A gust of wind blew through the apartment and swirled around Ronnie, tugging at her skirt and lifting her thick strands of hair until she was floating a few feet off the floor. She hovered while I repeated the incantation two more times. The glowing blue light and gusting vortex made it impossible to see her.

The energy around her snapped like something alive, and I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end. Artie jumped from the chair and scurried into the bedroom. Then the world paused, and I couldn’t breathe. After a terrifying frozen moment, the power around Ronnie blew apart. She landed on her feet, and I could breathe again. When Ronnie caught her balance, she looked at me with wide, expectant eyes. The wind rushed out of the apartment through the open windows, and a chill ran up my back.

“What do you think?” Ronnie asked, her voice a little strained.

“If that didn’t work, then you’re gonna need to take a tomato juice bath.”

“Fantastic.”

“C’mon,” I said as I turned for the door. “We’ll ask Fletcher if we still smell.”

Back in the hallway, I waved my wand, repeating the same spell I’d used on Ronnie. A strong gust of wind blew down the hall, disappearing through the window.

“Hopefully that’ll keep Frankie off my back,” I muttered as I set my wand on the bookcase just inside the door.

On the roof, the small party was still going on. I realized there were more people there than when we left. Joey was surrounded by a multicolored cloud of tiny pixies, and Whelan and Laney were standing with Bu and a couple of friends who looked as though they shared the same closet. They were a cluster of storm clouds, all dressed in shades of black and gray, though they looked nothing like the drab P.E.A.C.E. members. The two girls I didn’t know had tiny flashes of color in their jewelry and streaks through their hair, like bolts of lightning.

When Bu caught my eye, he lifted his hand in greeting and a smile broke out on his face. His hair was still in that modern Samurai top knot, but he was wearing a black kilt with silver buckles and a shredded black T-shirt. Through the rips, I made out a few splashes of ink decorating his torso. I waved back and nearly walked right into Ronnie, who had stopped in her tracks.

Glancing over her shoulder, I saw the pale, blond, blue-eyed Were leaning against the parapet wall. He was in his customary military chic garb: combat boots, olive drab cargo pants, and dark gray T-shirt. This close to the full moon, I knew he couldn’t feel the chill of the night air, so he hadn’t bothered with a jacket. What was disconcerting was the smile that spread across his face at the sight of Ronnie. It wasn’t a bad smile—actually, it probably took a good ten years off his face—but Spence just wasn’t the smiling type.

Even at a distance, I saw the unnatural glow to his eyes. His usually smooth face was covered in thick golden stubble. The full moon was less than twenty-four hours away, and his wolf was already showing. A pang of worry went through me, but I wasn’t Ronnie’s keeper. She had clearly invited him, so if she wanted to see him, it wasn’t my place to stop her. I turned to look at Ronnie and saw that she, too, was smiling. The look on her face, mirrored on Spencer’s, washed away the worry inside me. She looked like a love-struck teenager. I nudged her gently, reminding her to keep walking.

“Wait,” she said, leaning back into me. “What if I still smell?”

“You’re upwind of him,” I whispered back. “If you did, you’d see it in his face already. Just keep him away from the rest of us in case we haven’t aired out enough. I’m sure you can think of a way to distract him. Go.” I urged her forward with a stronger push.

She took one halting step forward before lifting her chin and walking over to him. I watched, wanting to see if Spence reacted to her smell or not. When he took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, I knew she was in the clear.

“Think that’s safe?” Fletcher asked from just behind me.

I hadn’t heard him approach, but with the increasing conversations and music around us, I wasn’t surprised. I was taken a little aback by how close he was though. I felt his gentle heat along my body, and I wondered how much he had fed before he came over. I wondered where his hands were. If I took half a step back, could I lean my body back against his?

I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to knock those thoughts out of my mind before I turned around. I tried to step backward as casually as possible, not wanting to look awkward about how close he was, but I saw the fleeting look in his eyes that told me I hadn’t been successful. Fletcher held out one of the two cups he was holding. I took it gratefully, if only to have something to do with my hands.

“So you’re not worried about your friend hooking up with a Were?” he asked, bringing me back to his original question.

“Ronnie’s a big girl.” I lifted my cup and took a sip of the sweet mead. “I’m not her keeper.”

“Sure.” Fletcher nodded, looking over the rim of his cup and past my shoulder to stare at the witch and the Were. “But that wasn’t my question.”

I turned to follow his gaze. Ronnie was laughing at something Spencer said, batting his arm playfully. It had been a long time since I’d seen Ronnie look like that. She dated more than I did, but she’d been just as successful at it as I had been.

“Yes, it worries me,” I said. “But I wouldn’t do anything to take that smile away from her either.”

“But he could just as easily take that smile, crumple it up, and stomp on it.”

“So could any guy.”

“But you know a Were will,” Fletcher said. “It’s inevitable.”

The mead went sour in my mouth. I had to force myself to swallow it past the lump in my throat. Weres dated outside their species, but they never mated outside their pack, let alone outside their species. And it took a lot for a Were to find a mate that they could commit to for life.

But the same could be said of vampires. They craved the warmth of the living, but it was difficult for them to form emotional bonds once they’d reached a certain age. It had happened with me and Owen though. It had taken the power of a master vampire to break our bond, and even then, she hadn’t severed it completely.

Fletcher was standing so close to me, the spark of life still in his eyes and the possibility of anything shining through them. The voice of the gypsy woman echoed in my mind that I could find something real with him.

Could Spencer love Ronnie? If a vampire could love a mortal, then I had to believe this could happen too.

“Nothing is inevitable.” The words rang from me like a bell.

Fletcher’s eyes met mine and held me in place. Invisible bands wrapped around my chest, constricting my breathing, and I found myself falling into the deep pools of his brown eyes. If I let myself, I could swim forever in those eyes.

“I hope you’re right,” Fletcher said, breaking the spell.

The bands around my chest exploded, and I could take a full breath again. Fletcher chugged the last few swallows of his mead before crumpling his cup and tossing it aside. He took my cup and tossed it over the side of the building before taking my hands and pulling me along with him to the middle of the roof.

The music shifted from a pulsing beat to a slow, rhythmic song, and Fletcher pulled me close and led me in a dance. Our bodies fit together surprisingly well. Fletcher was always so much taller than me in his platform boots, but in his black and white Creepers, he wasn’t too tall. He draped my arms around his neck and placed his hands on my hips, curling his fingers into the muscles. I followed his lead, finding that I couldn’t look away from his face. Stranger still was how natural it felt, as if we had danced a million dances before.

A smile curled over his red lips as he stared into my eyes. The sharp points of his canines were visible, curving close to his bottom lip. I wondered if his bite would feel different than Owen’s. Fletcher had bitten me once, on Theo’s command, but it had been so fast that I didn’t remember how it felt. Owen’s bite was deep and searing, and I could feel it all the way down to the bottoms of my feet. Would Fletcher’s be as hot, or would it be warm and slow like a summer’s breeze?

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Fletcher said in a low, husky voice, “I like it.”

He inhaled deeply, his face dangerously close to my throat, and I felt my pulse speed up in answer to his comment. I felt him chuckle more than I heard it. It was a gentle rumbling that rolled through his chest and into my body. His breath grazed the shell of my ear, and things low in my body clenched, making me fight the urge to press myself closer to him. My lips formed his name, but I swallowed it back.

I pushed against him, opening a small space between us, so I could get a breath of air that didn’t hold his scent. He smelled of spices, warm and inviting, and it made me want to curl up close to him, rake my nails through his hair, and coat myself in it, like a cat with catnip.
Bloody vampires
. I fought to clear my head.

Fletcher stepped back, let his hands drop from me, and stopped dancing. The light in his eyes dimmed slightly as he watched my face. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in my scent again. I wondered what strange mix it was then—if I’d had to guess, I would’ve said sweet and sour.