Chapter 5 Sage
Sage
The banging wouldn’t fucking stop, and it was the middle of the fucking night.
Sage groaned at the noise a few times before he realized it was the front door, and some woodsman was trying to break it down with an axe.
Or maybe it was that axe-dude from that old-timey Christmas movie, The Shining or something.
“Waawww,” Sage said.
The banging continued.
Sage, desperate, rolled over his pillows and off his futon. He liked the futon, especially on days like this, when gravity proved a real health hazard. He made it down the attic stairs and to the first floor.
“’S fucking sunrise,” he said to the hallway and the shadow darkening his door when he opened it. It was Peter. Peter was not the kind of shadow you wanted to wake to.
“Well, at least you’re wearing pants this time, Sage,” the vampire said.
“Oh, fuck off.” Sage was tempted to shut the door in Peter’s face, but his instincts were telling him that would be a bad idea.
“This is William. William, this is the witch who will teach you, Sage. He owns several shirts and normally manages to wear them. He also knows how shaving works, though perhaps this is a failing experiment into the area of hair growth tonics.”
“Again, fuck off, Peter.”
Sage ran a hand over his chin before he could stop himself, then blinked at the new apprentice, who was…well. Cute was the word. Sepia skin, curly black hair, and golden eyes. Sage blinked again. His magical senses tingled.
“You fucking with me? That’s a werewolf. Can’t teach magic to werewolves.”
The werewolf shuffled sideways to hide behind Peter.
“He’s a witch wolf,” Peter said.
“Huh. Rare. Super rare.”
“Just like you, Sage.”
“Fuck off, please?”
Peter ignored the polite request entirely.
“I realize this is possibly too much to ask, but William needs to be taught manners. And how to follow simple instructions. Such as, open the door when someone knocks and don’t make them wait for ten minutes.
Wear a shirt while opening the door. Ask people inside and offer them a seat. You know, manners.”
“It is the middle of the night, and as I said, would you be so kind as to please fuck off?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “William will need some clothes, and everything else one needs.” Peter stepped aside, motioning William into the house.
Sage opened his door just a bit wider. “So long as he doesn’t need it in the middle of the fucking night, that’s fine.”
Despite having been pulled from the sweetest dream about succeeding in the magical accessory business, Sage wondered where the witch wolf had come from.
It was probably a typical Peter thing playing out—finding a stray and murdering the bigger stray who was hunting him.
Or maybe Peter had kept the witch wolf hidden since he was a kid, and now it was finally safe to teach him magic.
Makes me wonder why he’s asking me to teach him though.
“How’s the cat, by the way?” Peter was gleeful and let his teeth show, the jerk.
Sage crossed his arms. “She ran away.”
Will carefully made his way into the house, eyes glued to the floor, curling his shoulders in to make himself as small as possible.
“Maybe you’re more of a wolf person, Sage. Good luck finding your shirt.”
With that, Sage closed the door in Peter’s face, but he really only dared once Peter had already turned to walk away. Meaning he closed the door on Peter’s back, technically. But still, it felt so satisfying.
“Well, hi. I’m Sage, and I will be your instructor in the magical and mysterious arts of arcane magics. Can I ask you something?”
Will glanced up at Sage and nodded.
“William, why do you look like someone just told you neither the Easter Bunny nor Santa are real? Did Peter glower at you for messing up his tie collection or something?”
William shook his head. “I was just… It was a long night, is all. And Will’s fine.” His gaze drifted to Sage’s chest before he looked away again.
Sage didn’t do embarrassed, but he didn’t want to make Will uncomfortable either.
“Well, I get that. Listen, I’ll just grab a sweater, and then I’ll give you a super quick tour of the place, and you can fall into bed and sleep for a week. Sound good?”
Will nodded, and Sage headed back upstairs.
He found a semi-clean hoodie on the banister of the attic stairs.
He had no recollection of having left it there, but he appreciated the accidental forethought.
He also found a piece of the third or so rubber glove he’d used earlier, wiggling its way down the stairs in search of someone to please.
He snatched it up, but before he could unmagic it and throw it in the trash, William’s scream brought Sage racing back downstairs, the hoodie forgotten.
Will was red-faced, staring at the couch, and holding his butt.
Sage relaxed. “I take it you met Elsbet.”
“What? Who’s Elsbet?” Will’s golden eyes were wide when he glanced at Sage before looking away again.
Sage walked over to the coach and picked up the pale blue cushion with the white embroidery. Elsbet wiggled in his hold, ready to massage anything, from tense shoulders to…well, anything that was hard and tense and needed some relief.
“Will, Elsbet. She’s a massage cushion.”
Will’s jaw dropped. He looked kind of cute like that. His eyes wandered to Sage’s other hand. “What…is that?”
“Oh.” Sage was still holding the remaining piece of Glovy the third. “Well. That’s a…side project. It’s still sort of in beta. It’s just rubber.”
Will’s eyes went wide. “A rubber?”
“Uhm…oh. Well, no. Made out of rubber. A rubber glove, you know.” Sage plucked Glovy off his finger and clenched the little squiggly bit in his fist.
Will’s eyes were still big as saucers. “I never realized magic was this weird.”
Sage grinned like all the cats who’d fled his home. “Welcome to Vert magic. I mean, Vert’s my family name. I thought it would make a cool brand name, except no one really wants massage cushions. But the lube sells okay-ish.”
“Huh. Is that why you have so many cushions?” Sage followed Will’s line of sight.
There were a good three or four dozen cushions in the living room. Each was different, unique, and all of them had their own personalities. They were not the only cushions in the house.
“My granny made these. I kept them. Only some of them are enchanted. You don’t like cushions?
” Sage wasn’t sure why that mattered, but all of a sudden, he was feeling very self-conscious.
About cushions. Fuck. Had to be the early mornings.
He needed to get back to sleep. Glovy’s remains had partially wiggled out of his hold and were now clinging to his thumb soothingly, offering stimulating pressure.
“Just…took me by surprise, is all. They’re so…unusual.”
Sage relaxed. “Oh, good. That’s good.” He cleared his throat. “Let me show you to your room. It’s—you’ll see. Come on.”