Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(86)

There was a vampire, slightly older than the dude at The Hobgoblin but no less pale and lanky. He leaned against a standing stone, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, watching us (me?) from under his brows. Regardless of his paleness and thinness, he was sexy as hell.

The wizard had dark gray-brown robes and a pointy hat that had flopped over to the side.

The werewolf man had stretch marks and a visible bad attitude.

There were two faerie elves weaving around and leaving lemon and peach contrails.

And the sorcerer’s soft, lavender robes shone with sparkly quarter moons and stars.

The sorceress, now she was something. Supermodel gorgeous with long, straighter-than-straight white-blonde hair and pale blue robes with the sparkly moons and stars. She was wearing this kickass jeweled, large-weave skull cap that had this lush, aquamarine teardrop hanging down the center of her forehead.

Fab.

Dr. Bennett was there and he gave me a little nod, and if I saw correctly, a wink.

There was another man who was older and very handsome and he stared at me and only me in a broody way that seemed very familiar. He had to be the Elder from Le Société de Mathilde.

Once Althea and the Honeycutts joined The Gathering, Prunella, the Hag, began the proceedings by stepping to the center of our little circle and lifting her wand.

Out of nowhere, a gleaming white unicorn materialized, all beam-me-up Scotty sparkles and My Favorite Pony glitter – immediately touching the point of his horn to Prunella’s wand as the two fairies buzzed in like the Red Arrows doing a double flyby and then – blam!

The firework exploded, going wide and high and the pixie dust fell in a perfect circle around us. The ground started rumbling and then huge, buried stones rose up, breaking through the turf, grass and dirt flying everywhere and forming a mini-circular amphitheater.

Great Mother Earth, wind and fire, it was cool.

The Hag, the Unicorn and a see-through man in an old-fashioned suit who was surrounded by a weird mist walked into the center of the amphitheater.

The Gathering had begun.

And that was as exciting as it got.

I kid you not.

You know how they show those photos of people at the UN or in Congress having a snooze? Head resting on their hand, elbow resting on the table, mouth open, eyes closed?

Do you want to know why?

Because government is boring.

Boring.

Boring.

Ho-f*cking-hum.

Blah, blah and more blah.

Everyone talking a lot.

And no one saying a damn thing.

There I was, past midnight, at the end of a magical avenue of standing stones, sitting in a long-undiscovered, enchanted amphitheater surrounded by supernatural beings and I fell asleep.

“Mathilda Guinevere Honeycutt!”

My name rang in my ears.

Oops.

Viv, who was sitting beside me, nudged me.

I opened my eyes.

Everyone was staring at me.

“Are you very tired, Mistress Honeycutt?” Endora, the Lady, asked.

“Er…” I answered.

Yikes, shades of yesteryear and chemistry class.

“Is there something else you’d rather be doing, Mistress Honeycutt?” The Lady went on, kinda snottily.

“Um…” I answered.

“Come forward.” That was Prunella, the Hag, still standing in the middle with the Unicorn and the ghost of the Headless Horseman. The banshee must have had the floor because she was also in the middle but at my approach, she floated to the side and sat down (or more like, hovered over a stone seat while her hair and robes blew in non-existent wind).

The Lady was standing on the lowest stone of the circle of seats, staring daggers at me.

I decided that I didn’t like Endora Eccles much. She was kind of a bitch.

I walked into the middle.

“Today’s proceedings are very important, Mistress Honeycutt,” Prunella told me when I arrived. “We haven’t had a Gathering –”

“I know,” I interrupted, “since the Vampyre Mutiny of 1962.”

Prunella pursed her lips.

“Can I ask,” Endora called from her place at the side, “what Mistress Honeycutt is wearing?”

I’d expected this. I was supposed to be wearing the witch’s uniform, all pointy hats, ripped skirts and red and white striped tights, etcetera.

Not… gonna… happen.

I’d rather be dead and it took a lot for me to say that in my current life circumstances.

I’d ditched the striped tights and replaced them with fishnets. I cut off the ragged edges of the skirt and the bells of the sleeves and hemmed them. I pulled out the laces of the bodice and added some strategic double-sided tape in the cle**age area. And the piece de resistance was a pair of black, patent-leather Manolo Blahnik mary janes.

I looked like Versace Witch Barbie.

Fab-you-las.

(Don’t think I didn’t notice the sorceress staring covetously at my mary janes.)

“It’s my new and improved uniform,” I answered.

I noticed the vampire grinning but most everyone else was either silent or looked disapproving.

“I hardly think my outfit is –” I started to go on.

“This is exactly –” Endora interrupted me.

“What we should be talking about!” I finished loudly, totally fed up with her diva attitude not to mention the whole bloody Gathering farce.