The Rise of the Dark Lord Page 19

  I was so getting a private jet for my wedding.

  Tee hee.

  After Aidan and Josie returned sans Rory, saying he needed some time, and between downing my meat and potato salad course and the hoovering of my trifle, I went to find Rory.

  He was kickboxing somebody on his TV using a game controller.

  I barely got in the door when he declared to his telly, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  Cosmo totally wanted to talk about it and was sharing that by shoving his nose in my crotch.

  I gave Cosmo a different target when I walked in and sank cross-legged to the floor next to Rory and the dog went after my neck.

  “I was a total loser. I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” I admitted to Rory. “I’m just going to miss you guys.”

  “You’re not gonna miss me because I’m not going back. They don’t have American football in England.”

  “Yes, they do. It just comes on at two o’clock in the morning.”

  “Mum’s never gonna let me stay up until two in the morning.”

  He was right about that.

  “And they don’t have good pizza,” he carried on. “The kind with the chewy crusts. They have bad pizza. The kind with the thin, gross crusts.”

  He was right about that too.

  “They have better Indian and everyone knows about custard there and they pour it all over everything.”

  Score one for me.

  He had no rebuttal.

  Then again, custard always wins. Even when it’s frozen.

  Maybe especially when it’s frozen.

  “Rory, honey, I think your mum is happy,” I tried.

  “Yeah, she’s happy,” he jerked the game controller at the TV, “and gooey,” another jerk, “and gross. I mean, why?” He looked to me. “It isn’t like he’s Ash. Like he’s a total badass. He’s a professor.”

  Ah.

  I was seeing the issue.

  He was worried his mum wouldn’t be safe.

  “Aidan’s pretty badass,” I said carefully. “And he can protect your mum.”

  “I can protect my mum!” he snapped.

  Okay.

  Now ah.

  I was mistaken about the issue and was now seeing the real issue.

  “You both can look after your mum,” I assured. “And she needs you both to do it. She needs her Rory and she needs someone her own age to spend time with.”

  “And be gooey with, and you’re wrong. She doesn’t need that.”

  When did this kid get so smart?

  Probably when I was somewhere else, not in Denver, doing what I vowed to do and protecting them.

  “No, you’re right,” I agreed. “She’s an independent lady. She doesn’t need it. But she wants it, and don’t you want her to have what she wants?”

  “What I don’t want is to leave Su or Mack or Viv, even if Viv’s kinda got a stick up her butt.”

  I hid a smirk.

  Viv more than kinda had a stick up her butt.

  And I was so going to tell her Rory thought that.

  He kept talking.

  “Or your mum because she’s all granny-like and makes me sundaes out of thin air, or you, even though you’re never around anymore.”

  “Don’t you miss footie and Morris dancing and spotted dick?”

  That got him.

  His mouth quirked.

  “No one likes Morris dancing,” he said. “And spotted dick is rubbish.”

  After he said that, I wasn’t going to admit that I liked Morris dancing.

  “Well, Sunday roasts and sticky toffee pudding then,” I pushed.

  Score two for me because anyone who’d had a Sunday roast or sticky toffee pudding then couldn’t have it anymore would miss it.

  Suddenly, his face got all crumbly and he muttered, “But I’m her guy.”

  And there you go.

  “Aw, honey,” I whispered. “You’ll always be her guy.”

  He looked away.

  I gave him time.

  He looked back at me. “Are we safe without your magic?”

  “You’ll never be without magic. Not ever, honey. Before you go, I’ll put spells on you both that will last a lifetime, so I’ll always be with you. And if Aidan thought for a second you weren’t safe not being under my roof, he wouldn’t take you home.”

  Rory thought about that.

  Then he finished thinking about that.

  “I suppose I gotta like him,” he mumbled.

  “You don’t have to like him. But if you give him a chance, you won’t be able to help it.”

  Rory wasn’t ready to commit to that.

  So I said, “Come on. There’s barely any hot dogs left.”

  Rory was ready to commit to that.

  So he returned with me to the cookout.

  Josie looked relieved and Aidan looked worried when we returned.

  Okay, right.

  Serious.

  That man was a glutton for punishment.

  First, he had to compete for me and now he had to win over Rory to truly win Josie.

  I figured it’d be a job.

  But even so…

  Aidan would best it.

  Of course, I managed to coax Rory back to the party and explain how hilarious it was that most of the people at our 4th of July cookout were English, and our dessert was a trifle (made by Lucy, an Englishwoman), which was the quintessential English dessert, things Rory thought were as uproariously funny as I did.

  But as ever, I couldn’t rest on my laurels.

  I saw immediately I had a couple more crises on my hands.

  Because Aidan looked worried, and the way he was glancing at me, it seemed it wasn’t just Rory he was worried about.

  Also, it appeared Ash had regressed to broody.

  I hadn’t seen him broody since…

  Well, since he came to America after the Battle of The Tor.

  I kinda wanted to drink bad American beer and break out a Frisbee or something and not tackle a new crisis.

  But since it seemed I’d never again in my life have that luxury, instead I had to take my man’s advice, break shit down to tackle things one by one.

  I started with Aidan, not because he was the priority (Ash totally was), but because I figured I might need more time to deal with whatever was up with my man.

  “You cool?” I asked Aidan when we were away from the others.

  “This would be my question to you.”

  Since he asked…

  “Well, my answer is, no. I’m not cool. I love Josie. I love Rory. I love Cosmo. I love you. And I don’t want any of you four thousand, six hundred and sixty-two miles away.”

  His brows inched together. “Four thousand, six hundred and sixty-two miles?”

  “I looked it up,” I mumbled.

  “Matty, I’ve started a serious relationship with one of your dearest friends,” he said cautiously. “And you and I used to…be close.”

  Oh.

  Yeah.

  He had.

  And we had.

  He used to be mine (of a sort).

  And now he was Josie’s.

  I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

  “If I throw a fit about this, to prove to me you’re right for each other, will you find a job you love in a university in Denver and live close to us forever and ever and ever?” I tried.

  “No,” he denied.

  Bummer.

  Well, I gave it a shot.

  “Aidan, if you guys are happy, I’m happy for you. For both of you.”

  He looked relieved. At least about that.

  Then he gave me a hug.

  Right, Aidan done.

  Onward.

  Now I had to see to my man.

  I walked to where Ash was brooding in an Adirondack chair (not with a bad American bear, with a good one, an 805).

  “What gives?” I asked after I sat on the arm of his chair, backwards, in other words, facing him.

  He tipped
his head to look up at me.

  “Assure me your reaction to Josie and Aidan was about Josie and not Aidan,” he demanded.

  I blinked.

  Rapidly.

  Then I breathed, “Oh my Goddess, are you jealous again?”

  “That was not the assurance I asked for.”

  Seriously, sometimes Ash could be cute too.

  “Dude, you’re perfect,” I reminded him.

  He scowled up at me.

  “I mean, you even cook hot dogs perfectly, with the grill lines all on a diagonal and everything.”

  Apparently, he didn’t find hot dog grilling skills high up on the list of cool dude things (when they absolutely were) seeing as he continued to scowl up at me, though his scowl grew a tad bit scarier.

  Time to offer assurances.

  “Ash, it was always you and it always will be. So yes. I can assure you, that was about Josie and not Aidan.”

  He got that from me.

  And he gave in return hooking the back of my neck in his hand and yanking me to him before he pressed a hard kiss to my mouth.

  He didn’t let my neck go when he let my mouth go.

  So I said, “Love you.”

  “And I you, darling.”

  Now Ash and I were being gooey.

  Rory was right.

  Gross.

  Later:

  Oooo, I so love my girlie-friends.

  The boys went to bed after fireworks, but we girls all laid in the grass, staring up at the stars (after Viv did a spell to block out the city lights so we could see them).

  Josie was all worried I was mad that she took up with Aidan.

  I assured her I wasn’t.

  Su and Viv were all worried that I had to battle the Dark Lord.

  And I couldn’t make them feel better about that, but it was sweet they cared.

  Last, Lucy was all over getting Paul Hollywood to provide a blurb for our cookbook.

  So all over it, she’d had our agent reach out to his agent sharing Lucy was more than happy to go wherever he was so she could listen to said blurb personally (while staring into his eyes) and take it down herself (if she could concentrate after staring into his eyes).

  Which meant we all rolled around on the grass giggling.

  I ended up attached to Josie.

  “Happy?” I whispered.

  “Yeah, you?” she whispered back.

  “Yeah. He’s the bomb, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, Matty, he is.”

  Okay, so there it was. I was totally down with Aidan and Josie together.

  We let go of each other in a way, because we laid close, but did it holding hands as we gazed at the stars.

  6 July

  Independence Day might have been a mixed bag of good and bad.

  But my sit down with Agents Elizabeth Perry and Anita Ramirez was just all bad.

  I asked for a sit down with the local agents because, as all know, I’m no expert.

  But I’d seen a ton of movies and sure, there was some artistic license there.

  Still, we were at war and anyone not on the side of the Dark Lord was on my side (this being all but Agatha Darling, his now sole creator, and maybe she thought she could control him after she made him (though, that didn’t work the last time the Dark Lord shadowed the earth)…to what end, I did not know or care, but I digress).

  And I’d learned from my copious movie watching that when you’re at war, your side needs intel.

  Who best to get intel?

  The FWA in cahoots with others of their ilk.

  Am I wrong?

  Apparently, I am.

  According to Agent Elizabeth Perry.

  (Talk about having a stick up your butt.)

  This is how it went down:

  We sat down.

  I explained the Dark Lord business.

  I then explained it’d be good if the FWA worked with the BWC and all the other agencies like them, doing so to gather leads, and then follow them, so we could find Darling and stop her before she made Bligh into a full-blown baddie.

  I expected their answer to be, “Hey, what an awesome idea. Well get on that sharp-like.”

  Their answer was not that.

  Their answer (no, Agent Perry’s answer) was, “The resources of the FWA are not at the personal disposal of Mathilda Honeycutt.”

  When she said that, Ash did that buzzing noise again. It was sexy again. But I didn’t need him wiping the floor with Agent Perry.

  I needed the cooperation of the FWA.

  So, before he could go all Fae on their asses, I intervened.

  “Okay, if someone’s collecting large amounts of bat guano from a cave in Venezuela…”

  As an aside:

  Yes, this was part of the many rituals to becoming a Dark Lord.

  Being packed in bat guano mixed with a bunch of other stuff, none of which was quite as nasty as bat poo, but it wasn’t a Tatcha radiance mask either.

  Again, I digress.

  “…our Venezuelan supernaturals confirm this information, they tell you, you tell me, and I take my team,” (FYI: I didn’t have a team…yet) “and handle the situation.”

  “You can’t just waltz into Venezuela,” Agent Perry replied. “The United States has a very sensitive relationship with the government of Venezuela. Knowing you, you’d get down there and do something that would spark an international incident.”

  Right.

  Was this bitch for real?

  I mean, what wasn’t she getting about the concept of the Dark Lord shadowing the earth with his malevolence?

  “Better to cause some diplomatic hullabaloo than not take the measures needed to eradicate the creation of a being who can end the world as we know it,” I shot back.

  “What Lizzie’s trying to say is, it isn’t as easy as you think,” Agent Ramirez cut in. “This kind of stuff is complicated and involves not only the magickal and supernatural worlds, but the normal one too.”

  “And what Mathilda is saying is, there won’t be magickal, supernatural or normal worlds, not as we now understand them, if we all don’t cooperate and do it immediately,” Ash stated impatiently.

  “We understand, Mr. Wilding,” Agent Perry said, all respectful to Ash (gag). “What we’re saying is, what you ask is not going to be easy.”

  “When Mathilda got electrocuted in the midst of attempting to rescue a Spellbound, that wasn’t easy. When she watched a friend of hers die in battle, that wasn’t easy. When she held her man in her arms while he died, that wasn’t easy. When she watched a Fae lose her wings, that wasn’t easy. But she did it. She did all of that. And she didn’t whinge about it. She also didn’t equivocate about it. She simply got on with it.”

  Wow.

  He made me sound pretty awesome.

  With that, he stood, stared down his nose at them and finished.

  “You do what you have to do, or don’t. It’s your play. We’ve explained the situation. We’ve made our request. It’s now in your hands.”

  He then took my hand and dragged me out of the Denver FWC offices (which, by the by, needed some design help, they didn’t look like movie FBI offices at all, not the dingy ones, not the ultra-modern, state-of-the-art ones, they were just…blah).

  I waited until we got in the car and were on our way home before I shared, “I kinda whinged about it.”

  He said nothing.

  I kept talking.

  “All of it.”

  He still said nothing.

  So yeah.

  I kept talking.

  “And I totally equivocated about it.”

  More nothing from Ash.

  “All of it.”

  “Mathilda?”

  “Right here, babe.”

  “Be quiet.”

  I shut up.

  So, you know, we might not get a tip that someone was collecting bat guano (or other).

  But we’d figure something else out.

  Or at least I hoped so.

  12 July


  Okay, so this is what I know:

  Saying goodbye to one of the two men I was in love with outside the security area of Denver International Airport had totally sucked.

  Saying goodbye to my friend, a kid I adored, and the man I used to love who was now falling in love with my friend, plus giving the care of the former two over to the latter nearly was the death of me.

  Once they went through security, I wouldn’t let Ash draw me away until I couldn’t see them anymore and I wouldn’t let Ash leave the parking lot until Josie texted to share that they were at the gate, the plane was waiting for them, and she was going to Duty Free shop.

  So much for my vow not to cry anymore.

  I bawled the whole length of Peña Boulevard.

  When we hit I-70 and Ash called my name, I cut him off, snapping, “If you ask if that was about Aidan again, I’m gonna punch you.”

  “I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some Mexican before we went home.”

  “Oh. Well then, yeah.”

  He ignored my outburst, took my hand and held it all the way to Las Delicias.

  Yup.

  The dude was totally perfect.

  It was a lot later, when we were in bed, no hanky-panky, Ash just holding me, when I asked, “Do you think they’re gonna be all right?”

  His answer?

  “Seymour was willing to die for you.”

  So okay.

  That said it all.

  He thought they were going to be all right.

  13 July

  You know, I’ll own it.

  Sometimes I’m slow.

  But this morning, it hit me.

  I’m Mathilda, SuperWitch.

  Destined Savior of the World.

  So it was me who got to say where the International Dark Lord Crisis Intervention Gathering was going to be held (IDLCIG for short, and yeah, I get that was a mouthful, but if you ran it all together and called it Idlesig, it had a ring to it).

  Therefore, I decided where it was going to be, looked up the schedule, picked an open night, got in touch with Su to get her coven on an invisibility spell along with some protection mojo and then got Viv, Su, Gran, Mom, Mavis and everybody I knew to get the word out.

  I mean, it was so obvious, so perfect, when it came to me, I couldn’t believe how long it took to come to me.