Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (2 page)

“So what exactly do you have that needs curing?”

Edwin and Dixon shared a look that I couldn’t read. I really wished they would’ve figured out their story before I got there.

“Well, one is an infection of sorts,” Edwin said. Bright pink spots appeared on his cheeks.

“Okay.” I nodded for him to go on. “What kind of infection?”

“An awkward one,” Dixon finally chimed in.

I suddenly knew what he was getting at. “Oh.” I tried not to squirm away from him. “And the other
ailment
?”

“That is more of a persistent growth that just won’t go away,” Dixon said.

I didn’t like his smile so much anymore. “A growth? Let me guess, the growth is quite large, maybe over five feet tall, possibly curvy with long blond hair?”

“Actually, it’s a redhead,” Dixon said, and Edwin cringed.

I happened to know, just like everyone else in the city knew, that there was a Mrs. Fox, and she had brown hair. “Come on, guy, I voted for you, damnit.”

“And your vote was appreciated. Don’t forget to come out for the reelection,” Dixon said with a grin, and I almost expected him to give me finger guns.

“Gross.” I sighed, wishing again that I’d had more than one glass of wine. “Fine. For two potions and a rush order, the fee is twenty-five hundred.”

Dixon glared at me.

Edwin shifted in his seat before clearing his throat. “We were under the impression your usual fee was one hundred.”

“Rates just went up,” I said with a shrug. “Not to mention the fee for a gag order, because trust me, I’m gagging over here.”

“Ms. Kavanagh,” Dixon said as he reached out to touch my arm.

I scooted away, pulling my hand out of reach. “Look, take it or leave it. I’m sure whatever awkward infection you have is just getting more and more uncomfortable and you’d like to take care of that one sooner rather than later. And let’s not forget you’ve already clued me in on the big redheaded secret, so I’m thinking maybe twenty-five hundred is being generous.” I slid out of the booth and grabbed my purse. “You have my number. Feel free to think it over and give me a call.”

I walked away before either of them could say anything. Thanks to the money I’d made rescuing the fairy prince, I didn’t need his money. I was waiting for the valet to bring around my car when I heard footsteps coming up behind me. I turned just as Edwin came to a stop, slightly out of breath.

“Ms. Kavanagh,” he said, “we will pay your price on the condition that you can have the items ready by Thursday.”

Halloween was on Friday and Samhain on Saturday, and I had about a dozen anti-jinx and anti-hex orders that needed to be filled by Friday. It would be tight, but for twenty-five hundred, I could squeeze it in. “Fine, you can send someone for it on Thursday.” I took the hand that Edwin offered.

“Thank you, and your discretion is appreciated,” he said as he released my hand.

“Whatever, man.” I glanced over my shoulder as my car came around the corner. “Just don’t expect my vote when he runs for reelection.”

Edwin didn’t reply, but he nodded. Behind his glasses, I saw the same sentiment reflected back at me.

“Please take my card.” Edwin held out a card for me, tucking the metal case back into his coat pocket. “If there are any problems or if you have any questions, please call or text.”

“Great,” I said as I jammed the card into my tiny purse.

I fell into my car, slipping the valet a tip before he shut the door, and drove away from the hotel. I’d never made a potion for an “awkward ailment” before. I hoped I could make it without needing to know the details of his ailment, because I really didn’t want to know.

Chapter 2

Ronnie’s apartment was filled with the aroma of warm sugar, melting chocolate, and pumpkin as she baked cookies and I cleaned out our giant pumpkins. Soft music filtered through the apartment, the lyrical notes of Black Witch White Magic making me sway in my seat. Halloween was only four days away, and I couldn’t wait to pass out candy to costumed children. On Samhain, we would go to the park for the lighting of the Great Bonfire, and we would feast and dance in the cleansing smoke. But tonight, I was elbow-deep in orange gunk and slippery seeds.

Joey, a half-pixie girl who was Ronnie’s new assistant, was sitting on the floor in the living room, her elbows on the coffee table as she braided tiny amethyst crystals into silky ribbons. There would be a full moon on Samhain, and people were often terrified of how open they would be to psychic attack during full moons, but it would be doubly worse on Samhain. Ronnie always sold out of her pre-made protection charms around the holidays, but this year she had Joey to help her build up her stock.

I hefted out a double handful of orange goop, and it landed on the newspapers covering the kitchen table with a wet slap. My hands were starting to feel stiff with cold. I didn’t know why Ronnie and I always insisted on getting such huge pumpkins, but we did. These were the size of a troll’s head—I could almost crawl inside them.

“What kind of face are you gonna do?” Joey asked from across the apartment.

Ronnie’s apartment wasn’t much different than mine, with the living room open to the small dining area off the kitchen, but her apartment was bigger. She even had an extra bedroom. That bedroom now belonged to Joey, who had moved in after Ronnie and I had saved her from her werewolf ex-boyfriend. He’d had a bad reaction to a love spell I’d stirred up for Joey.

“Just something scary,” I said with a one-shoulder shrug.

“We like traditional.” Ronnie opened the oven to retrieve the third tray of cookies. A gust of chocolate-scented heat washed out of the oven, swirling around us and making my mouth water.

“Are any of them cool enough yet?” I looked over my shoulder at the cookies resting on wire racks on the counters.

“I told you, these are for the trick-or-treaters,” Ronnie said as she slid the cookies off the sheet and onto a wire rack. “Not for grubby little witches.”

“Takes one to know one,” I shot back, threatening her with a handful of orange slime.

“Don’t throw away the seeds.” Ronnie started dropping mounds of the chocolate chip cookie dough onto a new, cool pan.

“I am not spending hours picking through this goop for bloody pumpkin seeds,” I said, raking a spoon down the inside of the second pumpkin. I still didn’t understand how Ronnie had gotten me to clean out her pumpkin as well, but there I was, doing it.

“I’ll do it!” Joey said, and before either of us could blink, she was off the floor and by my side, her tiny, pointy fingers in the growing pile of gunk.

“I thought you were making charms,” I said.

“I need a break. Besides, I’ve been dying to squish some of this stuff!” She grinned maniacally, holding up her hands as she squished handfuls of stringy pumpkin guts.

Ronnie made a face, scrunching up her nose and shaking her head, but I laughed. Seeds worked their way between Joey’s fingers, falling on the wet newspapers silently.

“Feel better?” I asked, one eyebrow arched.

“Oh yeah,” Joey said, digging her hands into the mound of goop. “That’s the stuff.”

“Weirdo.” I flicked a seed at her.

By the time I was finished with both pumpkins and drawing a creepy face on mine, Ronnie had the last batch of cookies in the oven and Joey had a bowl half-full of seeds. Ronnie came over to join us, a Sharpie in hand. She wore a black apron with orange frills along the bottom and a smiling pumpkin face patch on the pocket. Her curly coppery hair was piled on top of her head, adding a good three extra inches to her five-foot-three height. She bit her lower lip as she sat in front of her hollowed-out pumpkin. Ronnie shifted it back and forth, deciding which side would provide the perfect canvas.

Not many supernaturals participated in Halloween like humans did, with jack-o-lanterns and passing out candy or dressing up in costume, but we did. These traditions were leftovers from the Dark Ages, and it felt good to revive them. Sure, we used pumpkins instead of gourds or turnips, but pumpkins were easier to carve. These giants would last all week, especially after I poured a little anti-aging elixir on them.

And maybe the goblins and ghouls who threatened our doors were really children dressed up as Superman or ballerinas, but damn it, they were cute, and it was fun. The funny thing was, even if a supernatural was against participating in the human holiday, once they had kids of their own, they sang a different tune. We didn’t have many kids in our building, but every year, more and more kids from the human neighborhoods ventured into Brighthaven, our little corner of West Hollywood. They came with their pillow cases and plastic pumpkins, knocking on doors and hoping to see a real witch brewing in her cauldron or the yellow lights in a werewolf’s eyes.

It was terrifying and fun for them, and I loved it.

But every year, I seemed to forget how hard it was to carve pumpkins of this size. Once they grew over fifteen pounds, the rinds became hard as rocks, and I found myself putting all of my weight behind my hand as I carved. That was the other reason we stuck with simple, creepy faces. It would be impossible to cut tiny, intricate shapes when we had to practically stab the thing just to get the knife through.

Ronnie plucked the second eye out of her pumpkin. “How many bracelets did you get done, Joey?”

“Thirty,” Joey said as she picked through the stringy orange guts, finding every last seed.

“That gives me about fifty,” Ronnie said, more to herself than to either of us.

“Isn’t that enough?” I started in on the gaping maw of a mouth I’d drawn on my pumpkin.

“How many orders do you have for anti-hexes and banishment charms?” Ronnie asked, looking at me with her eyebrows high on her freckled forehead.

“Too many,” I said.

“Exactly. Last year I had sixty charms made. I sold out two days before Samhain, and there wasn’t a full moon. The gods only know how many I’ll need this year.”

“What’s the big deal about the full moon?” Joey asked, letting her hands rest on the pile of goop. I heard the squishing as she flexed her fingers back and forth.

“Psychic ability is higher at the full moon, so mental powers are stronger for everyone. People get nervous that someone might attack them, magically, during a full moon. Now add to that the thinning of the veil between the worlds, and people get a little anxious,” I explained.

“Wait, I didn’t think psychics could do magic?” Joey turned her confused lavender eyes from Ronnie to me.

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head, “we don’t mean psychics do magic. We mean people can perform stronger spells because their mental powers are stronger with a full moon.”

“Right,” Ronnie said. “A lot of people—witches, wizards, hedge witches, even humans—practice certain spells based on the phases of the moon and the days of the year. So when the moon is full, they have better results with spells that affect other people’s minds and psyches.”

“Do you follow?” I asked.

“I guess,” Joey said slowly, “but I thought Samhain is the just end of the harvest.” Her pink brows drew together in confusion.

Ronnie said as she examined her handiwork, “It’s also a time of high magic and people communing with the dead. People just get a little nervous is all, and with a full moon in the mix, it’s better that I have as many protection charms as possible.”

“People are weird,” Joey said as she played with the pumpkin guts.

“Yes.” I nodded as I grunted, fighting with a particularly hard spot on my pumpkin. “But people are also conniving and sometimes evil, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“What can people do to each other during a full moon on Samhain that they can’t do any other day of the week?” Joey asked.

Ronnie and I shared a look, but I shrugged at her. Joey was her assistant. Ronnie was the one educating the pixie, so I would let her answer these questions.

“It’s not what they can do that they can’t usually do,” Ronnie said, glancing up. “It’s just that there is more universal energy to tap into. It makes people more powerful, their goals easier to attain. I remember my mom telling me about a group of girls who were hexing this one girl in their school because she had stolen one of their boyfriends. They’d been trying to hex her for a while, but the girl was careful to keep herself warded. They tried again with a full circle on the night of a full moon.”

“Lemme guess,” I said, pausing to give my cramping hand a break. “The hex worked.”

“Yep.” Ronnie nodded. “The girl’s ears and nose grew three sizes, and it took months for her mom to undo the curse.”

“Why didn’t they hex the boyfriend?” Joey asked, her voice pitching and making my ears hurt.

“I dunno.” Ronnie shrugged.

“But he’s the one who left his girlfriend. Why get mad at the girl? I don’t understand.” Joey looked from me to Ronnie and back again.

We both just shrugged.

“When people feel scorned, it’s hard to understand their logic,” Ronnie said.

“Or lack thereof,” I said.

“Either way, you see how much power a full moon can give someone. Now add to that the energy raised on a holiday, and it can be dangerous,” Ronnie said.

“Yeah.” Joey pushed away from the table and stood. “Guess I better make more.” She went to wash her hands at the kitchen sink.

“So,” Ronnie said to me, “tell me about your mysterious meeting tonight.”

I was struggling with a weird bump on the face of my pumpkin as I tried to carve out the sinister grin. I let go of the knife and fell back into my seat, blowing my bangs out of my eyes. Joey slowed to a stop on her way back to the living room, her pink brows high, clearly wanting to hear the story as well.

“Well, I was sworn to secrecy,” I said as I picked dried pumpkin guts from under my nails.

“Mattie,” Ronnie said.

I smirked. “Yeah, yeah.” I sat up straight, gripped the handle of my knife, and yanked it out of the pumpkin. “Actually it was kind of interesting. The client is Mayor Fox.”

“Seriously?” Ronnie asked as Joey said, “Ooooh, he’s cute!”

“Yes,” I said to Ronnie. To Joey, I said, “And you wouldn’t think so if you knew what he wanted help with.”