Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Cherry
It has to be a love spell.
Why else would I feel like I’m in such a pleasant haze, with all the facts laid out before me?
Which is precisely why I should stop this.
But here’s the thing. I don’t want to stop.
And neither does Timber. With my arms anchored around his stiff trap muscles, he nuzzles my breasts through the material of my dress.
It feels so good, I can only imagine what it would be like to shed this dress and let him do whatever he wants.
It would be so easy.
His lips find the bump that is one of my nipples and zero in on it, nuzzling and teasing it until it pokes through like a hard pebble.
He repeats this with the other one, nudging and rubbing his face over my curves.
The heat builds in my core, and I can’t help but start to rub the outside of his leg with my thigh, effectively hiking my dress up.
Timber’s hand moves down from my hip, gripping my leg and pressing his erection against my soaked panties.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Cherry.”
I smile. “I’m a mess and I need a shower.”
He growls.
“Your sweat scent turns me on. The scent of fear from last night is still all over you and it makes me want to lick you. Lick you everywhere.”
It’s so soon. It’s too much. I don’t make out with guys on a first date, let alone sleep with them when I barely know anything about them.
“I want that. I want you to lick me. Timber, I want you to fuck me.”
He growls against my aching breast, and my hips rock forward.
The wanton woman inside me still fights with my brain when I hear a phone ping from somewhere in the room.
“Shit,” he murmurs. “Ignore that.”
Happily.
But then the text notification is followed by three or four more.
It takes everything in me to peel myself off of Timber. “Sounds urgent. You’d better check.”
With a grunt, he keeps one hand on me as he reaches for the phone.
Timber’s face changes as he reads the messages.
“What is it?” I ask.
He curses. “You’re going to find out either way,” he says, then shows me his phone screen.
Animal control is out looking for a rabid dog that attacked the mayor’s son last night.
Toby’s going to be fine, unfortunately. The normies will be out for blood tonight.
I’d advise you to stay indoors for the full moon. You can use my place. I can supply you with plenty of things to hunt in the basement. Try not to get blood everywhere.
Maybe your little witch friend can do a glamour to make everyone forget what they saw. If she’s powerful enough.
My hand automatically goes to my throat. “Well. I’m glad Toby’s going to be okay.”
Those text messages pulled me right out of that love spell. I look at Timber, and I see the pain in his eyes. It’s good that his friend interrupted us before things got too out of control.
“You didn’t mean to hurt him that bad, did you?”
He takes a step forward. “I did, Cherry. I was trying to get him away from you, and he fought me. I had to subdue him until he stopped struggling.”
I feel ill and it shows on my face.
“He would have hurt you far worse.”
He might be right. But it’s clear to me now that I need to tap the brakes. Clearly, I don’t understand the repercussions of getting involved with a werewolf. I’m not a woman who randomly hooks up with people she’s attracted to. Giving in to temptation is something I reserve for people I trust.
And I don’t know if I trust Timber.
My feelings are all mixed up when he pulls me into a hug, and the warmth of his chest reminds me of how good it feels to be close to someone.
“Don’t go into the woods tonight, okay? Stay home and stay safe,” he tells me.
The slight tremble in my shoulders forces him to wrap me tighter in his arms and hold me against him. He makes the trembling cease.
“Why don’t you want me to go into the woods, Timber? Do you think you might hurt me?”
“If the villagers catch me, I don’t want you to see what they do to me.”
“I won’t let them.”
He grunts, “If you stand in their way, they’ll take you out, too. No single witch can stand against the entire town of normies once they’re worked up into a frenzy.”
“You need to study up on the history of this town,” I counter.
All he does is sigh and squeeze me tight. “I know all about it. Anything can happen tonight. It often does on the full moon. And on Halloween.”
That’s right. It’s Halloween!
I pull back and look up at him.
“Tonight is bonfire night on Colony Hill. The witches throw the best costume party, and I can’t miss it. I have to go.”
He growls. I smile.
He taps my nose playfully. “Promise me you’ll go to your grandmother’s house before sundown and have her do a protection spell. And stay close to the other witches. Don’t wander away from the fires.”
I blink up at him, not promising anything.
Instead, I roll up on my toes, and Timber lowers his head to kiss me.
“I’m starting to wonder if I’m a witch at all,” I say. “I can’t shake this urge to be close to you. It doesn’t make sense.”
Timber cups my face in his hands.
“You’re a witch all right. The wolf in me sees it. The man in me recognizes who you are.”’
“I’m just a New York City girl lost in a hick town cosplaying at being a witch and getting kinky with someone not quite human.”
Timber’s dark eyes sparkle. “You’re not lost. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”
The cider is piping hot at the annual Samhain celebration, and so is the tea.
“I saw that Finnegan Frost skulking around Alma’s house last night,” says the elderly Birdie, sipping from her steaming mug of spiced goodness.
The witch called Sara ties her colonial bonnet under her chin and replies, “Well, even if she did invite him in, all those unnecessary protection spells will make him implode on the spot.”
“Agreed,” says Birdie. “These baby witches, they can’t get enough of those protection spells.”
Sara rolls her eyes. “You only need one! Stop hogging the salt!”
Alma, who’s about my age but grew up here among her kind, knows she’s being gossiped about. But she seems more occupied with trying to gather wood for the bonfires. “Some of us have our reasons. Once bitten, twice shy, as they say.”
Birdie and Sara exchange a look of guilt, having been caught gossiping.
“Finnegan,” I say, repeating the name I heard them say. “Does he go by Finn to his friends?” I ask.
Alma ignores me and sets to work stacking the wood in a cone shape, then stuffing the space underneath with newspaper and kindling. I’ve tried being friendly to her, as there seems to be a dearth of witches my age.
The elder witches all stare at me, then Birdie cackles, “Goddess be praised if that dusty old vampire has any friends.”
“I know. Imagine being stuck at age 18 forever,” Sara says.
“That would suck,” says Birdie.
“Although I’d never not be naked, if I still had my 18-year-old body at 102,” Sara says.
I sit and marvel at that. Finn, Timber’s friend, is a vampire? Those texts make so much more sense now.
My glance goes to Alma, who’s muttering something unintelligible. I let the subject of Finn drop, and I think the elder witches ought to as well. I can practically see the quills of irritation surrounding Alma’s aura.
I go over to the bonfire and help her with the kindling. “Hey Alma,” I say gently. “Maybe after this, we can go check out the dance party in town.”
I know I told Timber I would stay out of the woods, and the only way into town between the witch’s colony and Birchdale proper is the woods. But Alma seems like she could use a friend. Even if she is unpleasant.
For decades, the normies in town have thrown the biggest party on this night. Though I wouldn’t want to miss my first Samhain with my grandmother, why not do both while I’m still young?
Alma studies me for a moment, trying to decide if my intentions are pure.
“Sure, why not?” Alma says flatly.
Wow. Did I just make a friend my age?
“You can go ahead and go now.” I turn as the voice of the matriarch rings out over all the other chatter. Grandma Morgan isn’t loud or shrill, per se. But her voice has an eerie way of carrying in a crowd.
“Grandma,” I say, wiping the dirt from my knees. “I didn’t see you there.”
She smiles. “I know.”
“I didn’t mean any offense. I’d love to experience my first Samhain celebration.”
Grandma tilts her head. “No offense taken. And really, you have your whole long life to live. You’ll get a hundred Halloweens or more to learn about all our ways. Now get out of here and go crash out with some beers.”
I hear Alma chuckle behind me. “That’s not what crash out means, Grandma,” I say.
She waves her hand. “Whatever. Go have fun. Just make sure you stick together. And take this,” she says, digging in her pocket. “A rabid dog was hanging around downtown last night, terrorizing the normies. Don’t know if they caught it yet.”
I stare at her closed hand. “An amulet?” I ask hopefully.
“No, dear. Professional pepper gel spray. And a condom. Depending on how things go tonight.”
Wow. Really could have used the pepper gel last night against Toby and avoided the whole mess with Timber being a wanted criminal. Oddly, I don’t feel safer with it in my purse. But I appreciate the condom.
Before we leave, Alma invites me to dig through her closet, where she has a surprising array of costumes to choose from.
“Here,” she says, shoving a cape at me. “You’re definitely a Red Riding Hood type.”
I shove the wool cloak over my head and pull up the hood. “Really?”
“Oh, Cherry. You look like wolf bait.”
If only she knew.
Alma hands me a basket to use as a prop, adds some glamour magic to my eyes—quicker than makeup—and we’re off.
We trek mostly in awkward silence until the main trail is in sight. When I see the first covered footbridge crossing, I let out a relieved breath. We’re over halfway to town.
“So how come there are so few witches these days?” I ask.
“Just jumping into the hard questions, I see,” she says sardonically.
“I’m not big on small talk.”