The Professor Woos The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 4) (2 page)

Pumpkin waddled behind Pandora as she headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of pinot grigio from the wine fridge, set it on the counter, then spiraled her fingers around the top.

The foil unwound in a long strip, like an apple peeling. Then she curled her fingers upwards. The cork wiggled free with a soft pop, flew across the room and ricocheted off the sliding doors that led to the backyard. She sighed. Her magic had always been faulty at best which was why she only used it for very small things, if at all. At least she hadn’t broken anything. This time.

She talked to Pumpkin, who was now winding around her legs meowing for a snack, as she reached for a glass. “I know you want treats, but a little running around in the yard would be a lot better for you.”

Pumpkin meowed again and pawed at Pandora’s leg.

“Yes, I know. You want food. But you’re fat. And you’re on a diet. If you’d just spend time on the treadmill every morning like I do, this wouldn’t be a problem. Let’s go outside, and maybe you can run off a few calories.”

Pumpkin’s diet had only started two days ago, and it was already clear that the cat thought very little of it.

She pawed at Pandora in one more feeble attempt at treats.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.” Pandora poured a big glug of wine into a double-walled insulated cup (not the classiest thing to drink wine out of, but she was home, wearing ratty gym shorts and a bedazzled tank top missing half its rhinestones, and who cared anyway), then headed for the back porch. She flipped the switch for the ceiling fans but left the lights off. The sun had just started to set, and there was still plenty of light to see by.

Besides, this was her favorite time of day, that last hour or so before the world went completely dark but the air was still sweet with the scent of flowers and grass. Everything just seemed to quiet down and breathe easy as the day slipped into night. Twilight was enjoyed by a lot of supernaturals, not just witches, but her witchiness made her especially appreciative of nature.

She stood at the sliding door, waiting for Pumpkin. “C’mon, poky cat.”

Pumpkin plodded out onto the patio, and Pandora shut the sliders. The orange butterball made it about three steps before she flopped down, rolled over and lay with all four paws in the air. The ceiling fans ruffled her tummy fur.

Pandora shook her head and snorted softly. “Pumpkin, you’re a mess. That is no way to burn calories.” She bent and scratched the cat’s belly. “Mama loves you, baby. We can both be a mess together.”

She sat down on the glider and kicked her feet up on the rattan coffee table. Her yard was looking good thanks to the nights of work she’d put in weeding the flower beds and adding a flat of yellow and purple petunias.

A long sip of wine and she settled a little deeper into the glider. Pumpkin hadn’t moved. Pandora reached for the bag of treats she kept on the side table.

The first crinkle of foil and Pumpkin’s head came up, eyes wide. It was the closest thing to a sit-up the cat was capable of.

Pandora laughed. “You’re so predictable.” She fished a treat out and tossed it into the stone path that led from the patio back to the shed, about five feet from where Pumpkin lay.

The cat watched it land, then stared wistfully after it, but didn’t move.

Pandora’s brows lifted in disbelief. “Seriously?” She tossed a second one. It landed close to the first.

Pumpkin took a moment to consider it, then finally rolled onto her feet and trotted after it.

Pandora tossed a third treat farther along the path. “I hope you know food-induced exercise probably doesn’t count.”

Pumpkin didn’t seem to care. Pandora sealed the bag of treats and went back to sipping her wine. Pumpkin found the third treat, then got distracted by a bug and gave chase. Pandora nodded in satisfaction. “My plan worked.”

She watched her orange fluff ball traipse around the yard, sniffing flowers and batting at insects. It was the perfect entertainment for drinking wine and relaxing after a long day. She thought about dinner and was about to get up and make herself a sandwich, aka Easy Dinner For Single People, when Pumpkin started scratching at the shed door.

“Please don’t tell me that squirrel is in there again.” Pandora put her glass down then thought about just letting Pumpkin wear herself out. It
was
good exercise.

Then the caterwauling started. For an overweight cat, Pumpkin had a very healthy set of lungs. Pandora jumped up. “Stop that before the neighbors think I’m killing you.”

She ran out to where Pumpkin was and scooped her up. “Hush, you silly thing. Honestly, where are your hunter instincts? You have to be quiet to catch stuff. That squirrel is long gone by now.”

But Pandora’s witchy senses were twitching. For a moment, she contemplated getting her shovel to brandish as a weapon, but the shovel was in the shed. So was her rake and her pruning shears. Basically, all her best weapons. If there was a serial killer hiding in there, he was well armed.

“Bother.” Well, everyone had to die sometime, right? She grabbed the handle of the shed and yanked it open.

The transom windows on the side walls let in just enough light for her to see there was no squirrel.

There was, however, a young girl sitting on Pandora’s gardening stool. She had a backpack at her feet, a bag of beef jerky on her lap and a smartphone in her hands. The screen was illuminated, lighting up her face. She stared at Pandora. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Pandora stared back. Then put Pumpkin on the ground. “Um, your beef jerky is making my cat crazy. Also, what are you doing in my shed?”

The girl sealed up the bag of dried meat and tucked it in her backpack. “Hanging out.”

A real conversationalist. “I can see that. Can I ask why you’re hanging out in my shed?”

Sensing the jerky was no longer in play, but also realizing there was potentially a new source of tummy rubs, Pumpkin plopped down on the kid’s flip-flops and rolled over, exposing herself like the shameless hussy she was.

“Nowhere else to go.” The girl shrugged, then reached down and scratched Pumpkin’s belly. “Hi, kitty. You want some jerky?”

“No jerky for the cat. And what do you mean nowhere else to go? You don’t have a home?” A homeless teenager? In Nocturne Falls? Wearing really nice clothes and in possession of an iPhone? Pandora’s witchy senses were picking up the distinct aroma of manure. And that wasn’t just because the shed held all her gardening stuff.

“I have a home.” The girl sighed. “I got kicked out.”

Pandora dropped her snark for a second. “Why?”

The girl stopped scratching Pumpkin to pick at the seam of her jeans. “Because…I’m a witch.”

Pandora blinked. And an odd protective instinct kicked in. “Your parents kicked you out because you’re a witch?”

That really didn’t happen in Nocturne Falls.

The kid continued to stare at her jeans. “Yeah. Well, really just my dad. My mom’s dead.”

Cue guilty feelings. “Oh, kiddo, I’m so sorry.”

The girl shrugged. “I’m not even a good witch. Well, I don’t mean I’m a bad witch. Like, I’m not putting curses on people or anything. I just turned thirteen, so I don’t really know how to do any of that stuff yet. I just know that I’m a witch.”

“Thirteen.” Pandora nodded. And spoke without thinking. “That’s about when we get our powers.”

The girl looked up. “We?”

“Um…is that what I said?” Fiddlesticks. “So what’s your name?”

“Starla.” The girl squinted at Pandora. “You definitely said
we
. Are you a witch? I know there’s a coven in town.”

Pumpkin stared longingly at Starla and made Puss In Boots eyes in a last ditch effort at scoring some jerky.

“You do? How do you know that?” Pandora was genuinely interested. She wasn’t aware that that info was public knowledge. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t printed in the paper. Or was it? She might need to check on that. Or maybe the kid’s mentor had told her. Every fledging witch was assigned one. It was how you learned. And hopefully avoided making big mistakes. Like giving yourself a tail.

Not that Pandora knew anyone personally who’d done that.

Starla gave Pandora a look like the answer was
so
obvious. “I read about it on the Cauldron. What’s your name?”

“Pandora. What’s the Cauldron?”

“You know, Cauldron.com? The online forum. Pandora? Like the girl who opens the box that lets all the trouble into the world? That’s a cool witch name.”

“Thanks. I guess.” Pandora shook her head. “Sorry, Starla, never heard of the Cauldron.”

Starla made a face. “How can you be a witch and not know about the forum?”

Because real witches didn’t need a forum? Because adults with jobs didn’t live their lives online? Or a thousand other reasons why. None of which Pandora was going to explain. Being a witch was…personal. “I was just kidding about being a witch.”

The squint deepened. “No, you weren’t. And you’re fibbing now. I can see your aura. I might not know any spells or be able to do any magic, but I can see auras. And yours looks witchy.”

“Fine, I’m a witch.” Pandora crossed her arms. This ought to be good. “What exactly does my aura look like?”

“Purple and kinda sparkly.”

Pandora did her best not to react. But, un-freaking-believable. The kid really was a witch. Pandora wished she’d brought her wine with her. She could drink about all of it right now.

“But it’s also sort of…broken.” Starla tipped her head. “Is there something wrong with your powers?”

If Pandora had been chewing gum, she would have choked on it. “My powers are just fine, thanks.” If fine meant crap. Double bother. The kid wasn’t just good at reading auras, she was spot-on. “Who’s your mentor?”

Starla made a face. “My mentor?”

“Your witch mentor.”

“I don’t have one.” Her face brightened. “That would be hella cool, though.”

Pandora’s head was starting to hurt. “Look, it’s getting late. You can’t sleep in the shed.”

“I’m good.”

“You might be, but I’m not. In the house. I have a guest room. Also, there are spiders in here.” That ought to do it. “We’ll call your dad, tell him you’re okay, and tomorrow morning I’ll take you home.”

“I hate spiders, but I’m not going home.”

“Yes, you are. I’ll talk to your father.” What she was going to say, Pandora had no idea, but the kid couldn’t sleep in the shed. She also couldn’t live with Pandora. “Actually, don’t you have school tomorrow?”

That earned Pandora a big sigh, but at least Starla stood and picked up her backpack. “Yes.”

“You don’t like school?”

“No, I like it. But nobody loves it. It’s
school
.”

“Where do you go?”

“NFH.”

Nocturne Falls High. Pandora nodded. “Now that your powers are starting to develop, you really ought to be at Harmswood Academy.”

“Sounds snooty.”

Pandora rolled her eyes. “It’s not. It’s for those who are…gifted.”

Starla’s eyes lit up. “You mean witches?”

“Yes.” All the supernaturals sent their kids there.

Starla walked out of the shed, then stopped. “Can I get a mentor there? Will you talk to my dad about it?”

“No and sure.” Pandora pointed toward the house. “Let’s go inside and give him a call, okay?”

A long huffy breath answered her, followed by a beleaguered, “Okay.”

Pandora hefted Pumpkin into her arms as she looked at Starla. “You hungry?”

Pumpkin meowed.

Pandora got a whiff of cat breath. “Excuse me, I was talking to our guest.”

Starla laughed. “Your cat’s fat.”

“Thank you, Princess Obvious.” Pandora grinned. “She’s on a diet, but she hates it. So? Are you hungry? I could make sandwiches.” Pandora tried to think like a teenager. “Or mac-n-cheese.”

Starla nodded. “That sounds cool.”

They went inside, and Starla dropped her bag by the kitchen counter, then sat on one of the bar stools and leaned her elbows on the counter. “Can’t I just call my dad in the morning?”

“And have him spend the night worrying about you? No, ma’am. Dial.”

Starla heaved out a sigh (apparently sighing was another form of teenage communication) but grabbed her phone and tapped the screen a few times. After a brief pause, she shrugged and put the phone down. “Went to voicemail.” She rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure he’s not taking my calls.”

Pandora’s sympathies were shifting to Starla’s side pretty hard. What kind of father was this guy to kick out his kid and then not take her calls? Crappy, that’s what kind. Well, Pandora knew about crappy fathers. “I’m sorry, Starla. I can imagine how that feels. Look, I’ll make you that mac-n-cheese and we can talk about something else.”

Starla perked up. “Witchy things? Like how I can get a mentor to teach me stuff?”

“Sure.” Why not? Pandora had grown up with the benefit of a mother and two sisters in the practice. This kid should have someone to talk with about all the stuff that was coming her way. Getting your powers was a pretty big time in a young witch’s life. In comparison, Pandora’s puberty had been a breeze.