Werewolves & Wisteria (8 page)

My eyes flashed. “You told him I have a crush on him. Don’t talk about that stuff with him.”

“He asked.”

“Still.”

“Fine.”

I got up and went back to stand by my door, but something still nagged at my mind.

“Charlie…”

He looked over at me once more, the light from the television casting his eerie cat shadow onto the wall behind him.

“Why don’t you trust her?”

“She’s a necromancer.”

“And you’re a demon. What’s the real reason?”

“There’s no way that she could know those things unless Kendra told her,” Charlie sighed. “They must have known each other.”

“But?”

“But Kendra told me things that she had never told anyone else,” he said confidently. “She promised me a part of her soul to help me complete my spell to be human. We were close, and she never mentioned Martha. Not even just in passing, and not even once. I don’t see how that’s possible.”

It did seem weird that Kendra would share the details of her intimate moments with Charlie with anyone, unless that person was a very close friend. But I could see his point, because if Martha had been a close friend, then why hadn’t Kendra ever talked about her?

It was possible that Kendra had a reason, even if I couldn’t see it. It was also possible that Martha had found a way to trick us.

“Keep an eye on her,” I said uncertainly.

Charlie nodded, and I turned to go to bed.

“Thorn.”

I looked back over my shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t know her? You’ve never met her before?”

I searched my mind, and then furrowed my brow as I turned back to face him. “No. Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Just trying to figure out how Martha could possibly know so much about Kendra.”

I shook my head and tried harder, but Martha was so flamboyant. I was sure I would remember her if we had met before, and it wasn’t just her hair and her clothes. Her personality was unforgettable. And even so, there was no way that she could have pulled those details from my mind.  I had no knowledge of Charlie, from Kendra or anyone else, or his birthmarks, or his scars—and I had no desire for such knowledge.

I lay awake for a long time that night, feeling oddly lonely even with a full apartment. I didn’t even know where Charlie had stashed Martha’s room; the whole place was beginning to feel too large. I missed Lyssa and Gates, but I felt guilty wanting them to come back.

It was almost one in the morning, which was pushing it even when I didn’t have to get up early. When I finally caved and grabbed my phone, I flipped a coin to decide which one of them I would bother. I texted Gates.

It took her a moment to answer, and I was afraid that I had woken her, but she was relieved to hear from me. Charlie had given her no explanation when he left her a drenched cat earlier that day, and she had been awake and worried ever since. She knew that he wouldn’t have done it without good reason. She had been terrified of drawing attention to herself if something had happened, so she had decided not to call.

I told her everything was fine, and it had been a momentary scare that turned out to be nothing. I didn’t mention Martha, because I saw no reason to suck her back into my drama when she was supposed to be escaping it. I asked about her mother and brothers instead.

They were good. Her youngest brother was still in counseling over the whole ordeal surrounding her disappearance, and her father was taking time off from work to fly out and spend a few weeks with them. Her other brother was angry that she had done something so dumb, and her mother kept checking in on her at random to make sure she was still there.

Things weren’t the way that they had been before, but I hoped that they would mend with time. Years from now, this was going to be one of those stories that she would never live down, retold at every family gathering as a lesson to the next generation.

She asked about Vince. I said he was doing okay, and she responded with a single word.

Wisteria.

She had read it somewhere in Kendra’s books, split up across several entries. Wisteria was used for overcoming obstacles. Kendra had once seen it used in abundance by a man seeking to overcome lycanthropy, though the outcome had not been mentioned. I made a mental note to ask Charlie if it was a placebo.

We said goodnight around two. Finally exhausted, I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 8

Charlie went on like nothing had changed that week, even if he was slightly more alert due to Martha’s presence. Martha came and went at will, continuing to work her shifts at the sandwich shop and bringing home a meal or two when she was able.

She was working hard to get in contact with the friends she had told me about, but they understandably liked to keep a low profile. In the meanwhile, Charlie told me that trying to help Vince with wisteria would be like trying to treat a shark attack victim with cotton swabs and a bottle of peroxide.

I decided to try regardless.

The greenhouse was well-stocked with a few varieties of wisteria, so I grabbed one of each, and worked with Charlie to create a flowerbed along one wall in the basement apartment. Vince wasn’t convinced, and he wasn’t excited about the prospect of living in a garden, either.

“How are they even going to grow down here?” he scoffed. “There’s no light.”

Charlie crossed his arms. “I can’t give you fake light because you’re immune. They’re not. They can enjoy all the fake light they want.”

We discussed the things that Vince had told us he thought would help, like grass and wind, and Charlie conceded that he could try to put down some natural turf for the animal. He refused to even attempt a mechanism to allow outside air in, because the potential for an escape attempt was just too great.

We went to school, and Stark still lurked between my classes, but he didn’t talk to me anymore. I made it to the greenhouse a few days that week. It confused the new employees at first, but by my third visit they seemed to accept that I was something of a boss. I knew Charlie and I was related to Lyssa, and when I said something needed to be done, they did it.

The plants weren’t faring well in Lyssa’s absence, and I was forced to call her Friday night after disposing of another tray of dead begonias.

“It’s been dry lately,” she said simply. “You need to get out there more.”

“I kind of have my hands full,” I said, moving the phone to my other hand as I took off my gardening gloves. “And seriously, I don’t think that’s the problem. Charlie didn’t hire high school kids. He’s got college students majoring in horticulture out here. They know what they’re doing. Something else is going on.”

“Okay, well, what are you seeing?”

She was annoyed, and I couldn’t blame her. I had sent her away claiming that I could handle things, and I very clearly wasn’t.

Looking around, I picked up a small planter of hens and chicks, frowning. “Brown tips. On everything.”

“Is there anything that
isn’t
dying?” she asked. “The cactus?”

I wandered back into the greenhouse, looking over the shelf where we stored the succulents.

“Nope, the cactus too.”

Lyssa sighed in frustration, but then her voice took on a new determination. “What about the bulbs? Go check the latest shipment. If it’s in already, there should be some crop bulbs in there.”

I went and looked, cutting open the box that had just arrived earlier that day. Crop bulbs were one of our better sellers in the fall as people cut down their home gardens and prepared for early spring harvest.

I was aghast. The first box I checked had shallots in it. Even the plants that hadn’t been unpacked were affected, and each tiny tip of green growth coming up and out of the bulb was crowned with brown wilt.

“Annie?”

“They’re dying,” I said in frustration, reaching for another box and ripping it open. I breathed a sigh of relief, because these bulbs, small and white, looked perfect and healthy. “No, wait…”

I thought they might have been tiny onions from my hurried glance, but my heart nearly stopped when I read the box.

Garlic.

Everything was dying but the garlic. Charlie had called Martha a special kind of vampire, because necromancers fed on the life force of living things.

“Annie?”

“It was just the one box,” I said quickly. I couldn’t tell her that I had invited a necromancer into my life, especially after this. Martha must have stopped by to see Kendra’s place, leaving a very unfortunate side effect in her wake. “You’re right. It must be the weird weather lately. I’ll check back in a week.”

I went home late that night to find Charlie brooding in a corner while Martha and Vince sat talking at the kitchen counter.

“It’s not that easy to lift a warlock’s curse,” Charlie said, giving me a dark glance before he went back to glaring at her. “I’ve worked with them. You’re talking about it like it’s something you see every day.”

“I do see it every day.” She leaned over the counter, her low-cut shirt was even more revealing. She cocked an eyebrow. “You just need to get more creative with your problem solving.”

“Then what do you propose?” Charlie asked.

“Instead of breaking the curse, we could let it happen, and then we clean up what happens afterward.”

“Oh…” I raised a hand, and Vince finally turned away from Martha’s exposed assets to look at me. “We’re pretty sure Charlie dies if we let this run its course. I don’t think there’s any way to clean that up. And side note, were you at the greenhouse this week?”

Martha stood up straight, her expression suddenly innocent. She had done her hair in two buns on top of her head, like mouse ears. “I might have been by.”

“Why?” Charlie asked her sharply.

His constant accusations were beginning to get to me, but Martha took it in stride.

“Because I hadn’t been before, and Kendra always wanted me to see it,” she said. She made a face. “Did the plants suffer? I’m so sorry if they did. I can’t control it sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” I said, casting a weary glance at Charlie. I wasn’t in the mood to referee any more disputes that night. “Just try to avoid it from now on. I don’t think any of the damage is permanent.”

Some of it was, but I was too polite to point it out. The plants that were left would recover.

Charlie seemed to gather that the debate was done, and he leapt down from the couch and went into the bedroom instead.

“He’s so moody,” Martha said, leaning back over the counter. I went and sat next to Vince. “But I see what Kendra saw in him. When he’s not a cat, I mean. I would hit that.”

“I would very much like to not think about it,” I said. “Have you heard back from your friends yet?”

Vince cleared his throat and crumpled up the paper mess from the sandwich Martha had brought home for him. He tossed it in the trash and opened the refrigerator, grabbing another sandwich and setting it down in front of me as he returned.

“No, I haven’t.” Martha looked genuinely apologetic. “We really need to hear from them soon. I know we’re working on a deadline here, and we’ve only got a little more than a week to the new moon. It’ll be downhill for everyone then.”

Vince didn’t say anything. I wasn’t quite able to contain myself.

“I really don’t want him spending another moon in the basement,” I said, feeling the anxiety rise in my chest.

Martha shrugged. “Have you considered just dropping him in the wild, then? You’ve already got a protection in place, so it’s not like Stark or Walter can go after him now.”

I hadn’t considered it. I looked at Vince, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Anything would be better than being indoors,” he said.

I turned back to Martha and her smart, friendly smile. Charlie’s bell rang an urgent alarm as he trotted back into the room and leapt up onto the counter.

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I’m not sending a werewolf out into the wild to do whatever his mood dictates. Someone will get hurt.”

We all fell silent, and I looked from Charlie, sitting still and determined on the counter, to Martha, carelessly leaning over on it. When she stood up, a small spark in her eye, I thought she was going to start the argument afresh.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I even mentioned it. It’s a terrible idea.”

I looked at Vince. He was already looking at me, and at least we agreed that what we had just witnessed was odd. Charlie shifted uncomfortably.

“I want your story right now,” he said. “You’re after something here. What is it?”

Martha leaned back against the far wall, waving one hand dismissively. “I was just looking for Kendra, to see if she was all right. That’s it.”

“How did you meet?”

“College,” Martha said without hesitation. “In northern Colorado. She was on the fifth floor in Jenner East, and I was third floor. We had a math class together.”

“Kendra hated math,” Charlie said.

“Yes,” Martha nodded. “It was the semester before she changed to music studies, and I’m sure that professor had a lot to do with the decision. Did she ever tell you about Dr. Ward?”

“Yes,” Charlie conceded.

“And his hair piece?”

“Yes.”

“And when he tried to kiss her after class?”

“Yes,”
Charlie said in frustration. “When did you last see her?”

“In person?” Martha’s eyebrows shot up for a moment. “God, it would have been before the wedding. Her brother’s wedding, I mean, when she moved out here to start the greenhouse. I’ve never been a fan of living close to the major congregation sites because they tend to draw warlocks. I told her so, but she said there was strength in numbers and she wanted to be a part of her nieces’ and nephews’ lives. We met up in a cafe in New York. She was on her way back from Italy and I was on my way to Egypt. I stayed three extra days just to see her. I told her she was going to do great with plants. She has the right energy for it.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes and flicked his tail. “You’re not telling us the whole truth.”

“None of us ever does,” she said simply. “I doubt that any of us in this room can say we’ve been entirely honest in the last week, unless all of you go around openly advertising to everyone you meet how you spend your evenings in certain company or certain times of the month. I’m a friend of Kendra. I’m sure she had a reason for not telling you. I’d be willing to wager that it’s because society doesn’t look kindly on people like me. But then, I might be wrong.”

Charlie studied her, and gave me a long look before he left. He still didn’t trust her.

When he had gone, Martha flashed me another dazzling smile. “Has anyone ever taught you a resurrection spell? It’s not exactly what it sounds like, because the thing can’t be completely dead when you try, but I bet you’d be great at it. Kendra always was. I saw her bring back plants I was sure were goners. Very useful in her line of work. Would you like to learn?”

Vince hung around for the spell lesson, which I eagerly accepted after seeing the damage at the greenhouse, but it proved a lot harder than I thought it would. I had resurrected some roses once on the Other Side, and I knew I was capable, but I had trouble channeling my intentions—that was how Martha described it. Just being able to put a name to the problem made it seem that much more manageable.

We went to bed around ten, and Martha said goodnight before she slipped behind the tapestry in the kitchen. I went back to my bedroom. It still felt a little odd when Vince followed me in.

I tried to pick my words carefully. “Would it be weird if I asked Charlie to move your stairs to the living room?”

“It might be insulting,” he said loftily. “But not weird. Why? I kind of like getting to see the drool spot on your pillow in the morning.”

I cocked my head. “I don’t drool. And I change in here.”

“You have a closet and a bathroom,” he said incredulously. “Change in there. You really need a
third
room for changing?”

I didn’t respond, and continued to stare him down.

“I’m kidding, Annie,” he said. “That’s fine. Of course, people are going to talk when they see you leaving my place late at night. No one has ever believed that homework excuse.”

I made a face, pointing him toward his stairs. “The people who know me, and what a perpetual nerd I am, have never had any trouble believing it. Goodnight, Vince.”

He smirked at me as he went down the stairs, but then stopped, resting his arms on the landing.

“So what is this, then?” he asked.

“What is what?” I asked absently, pulling a pair of pajamas from a drawer. It was getting too cold out to keep wearing jogging pants and a camisole, which was my usual routine.

“Are we dating?” he asked. “What is this?”

I stood up straight, and then turned back to him, shocked that he could talk about it like it was something to be discussed in the light of…
any
light, actually. And he wasn’t even embarrassed.

“You live in my basement,” I said, confused.

He nodded, and his gaze wandered for a second. “Right. Well, goodnight, then.”

“Do you want to date?” I asked before he could disappear. “I don’t know what that looks like. I’ve never done that before.”

I thought he was going to say something snarky and inconsiderate, like how I really was a huge nerd, or how we might as well because neither of us was ever going to get a date given our current predicament, or how he was actually planning to ask my blessing to make a pass at Martha in all of her low-cut sheer glory, but he didn’t.