Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(29)

“We’ll make it less spooky down there,” I suggested hopefully.

“Spooky?” he asked, having decided to repeat everything I say.

“Fog lights,” I said. “Big ones, like they use in the movies.”

He looked me in the eye as if considering that possibility (not).

“And we’ll light a sage stick, flush out any ghosts.” I was warming to my theme.

“I know a way to make it less spooky.” His lips weren’t twitching anymore and he was looking at me in a way that did even more intense things to my nether regions.

“Mathilda!” Mom was shouting from the kitchen. “Where’s the lobster pot?”

“What way is that?” I asked, trying to be flirty with my Mom shouting at me from the other room. (Not working.)

(Lobster pot?)

“Mathilda!”

Another grin from Ash.

“Your mother’s calling you.” This was Ash then he stood back as if to let me pass, down the stairs, into the dreaded Dungeons. “Would you like to continue this conversation somewhere else?”

I looked at him.

I looked beyond him.

Hmm.

Quandary.

Okay, I know you think I’m insane. But trust me, The Dungeons are scary.

Only people like Ash could live down there. He could probably kill someone with his bare hands. He’d probably seen things that would make my hair curl (egad!). Or worse, done things that would make me wonder about him.

Auntie Mavis had been telling me stories about Sebastian Wilding. About his years in boarding school (!), his days in the Army (SAS – Special Air Service, some serious English Army dudes a la Green Beret, or better example, Russell Crowe in Proof of Life), his time “in training” in Asia (Kill Bill anyone?).

Anyway.

Weird noises, unexplained breezes, indistinct whispering sounds and strange apparitions would be nothing to him.

I swallowed hard.

They were something to me.

He shook his head and said, “When you’re ready,” and closed the door in my face.

Ack!

Apparently, to get laid, a girl has to go to The Dungeon (shiver).

Not ready for that.

Rory:

Thinks Su is a hoot (but then again, she thinks it’s okay that he experience beer and has been spending a lot of time introducing him to Led Zeppelin, Jimmy Hendrix, Deep Purple and, of course, Jerry Garcia).

Josie:

Is holed up a lot with Gran, thinks she’s fantastic. She’s right, although that alliance scares me just a trifle… those two political wildcats may be planning some kind of hijacking of Douglas Addison’s visit next week. How am I supposed to protect Josie if she gets in cahoots with Gran?

Agatha Darling:

Apparently, if (rather lame) coven circle by light of the moon last night is anything to go by, has a powerful shadow over herself and whoever she’s working with. Members of Edwards Coven are missing, other members aren’t talking. Mavis has got the Witchworld grapevine buzzing but nothing has come of it.

Aidan:

Got a package in the mail with a note that said, “Sorry this is late. Thanks for the cookies.” with a mobile number. The package held a set of The Faerie Oracle and it was gorgeous.

Mm.

Called the number.

“Dr. Seymour,” he answered.

Mm.

Dr. Seymour.

Nice.

“Hi Aidan,” I said.

“Matty?”

“You like the cookies?” I asked.

“Delicious, you’ve won a few hearts at The Institute with those cookies.”

Mm.

I wondered which hearts, exactly.

“Are you still a member?”

“Probation,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Thanks for the file,” I said.

“What file?” It was his turn to ask.

That Mavis, how did she…?

“What file, Matty?” Aidan sounding slightly more aggressive.

Mm.

“Where’s Agatha Darling right now?” I asked.

Silence.

“Aidan?” I prompted.

“Matty, what file?”

“Give up Darling,” I said (how cool am I?)

(Or did that sound like ‘give up, darling’? Yikes!)

“Matty, I don’t think you understand. Probation means –”

I hung up. I thought that was a good way to go.

Probation, shmobation.

Where did Mavis get that file?

And how was my luck bad enough that I’d get an evil nemesis with the name of Darling?

15 March

Lucy got me again. She took the battleground out of the sweet into the semi-savory and made some kind of brie, almond, cranberry-in-a-puff-pastry thingie with homemade crackers! It even had some braided, egg brushed decoration!

The customers are flipping out for it.

She’s not fighting fair.

* * * * *

(Later – at The Gables)

Aidan is downstairs in the sitting room waiting for me to get ready for our date.

Date!

Ha!

With Aidan!

Ack!

The professor!

Mm.

Yay!

Ash is in The Dungeon, fuming.

Ha ha!

Or at least I picture him fuming.

Fuming as he runs on his treadmill to work out his frustration.