The cold night air slammed against my cheeks as I pushed open the doors leading out to the darkened veranda. I was immediately confronted with the alarming scene of Magnus accosting the mysterious photographer from earlier.
Magnus was holding the photographer up by the neck with just one hand, causing his slim legs to flail wildly beneath him. On the ground between them, there were pieces of what used to be a camera.
"Magnus!" I shouted, reaching him in a quick sprint. My hands pawed at his strong bicep as I pleaded, "Put him down."
Terrible choking noises emanated from the photographer's throat, but Magnus didn't release his vice grip. "I can recognise the smell of this bawbag anywhere," Magnus growled with gritted teeth.
"Magnus!" I ordered, this time with more ferocity. The photographer's face (or at least the part that wasn't covered by the mask) had begun to blanch.
Magnus snapped his blood red eyes onto mine. When he realised deadly how serious I was, he finally let go of the photographer, causing him to crash onto the floor with a painful thud.
It was a good thing we were the only ones in the veranda, or Magnus would've been spotted assaulting two people now.
Magnus tore his gaze away from me with an annoyed exhale and proceeded to glare at the man in front of him, currently scrambling to catch his breath and collect his broken camera at the same time. When the photographer looked at me, his ocean blue eyes glinted in the moonlight and I gasped in recognition.
Intuitively, I reached out to snatch the Venetian mask away from his face.
"You!" I exclaimed in total astonishment.
It was Simon Novak, sans glasses.
"I-I can explain!" Simon stammered, his eyes darting from me to Magnus in fear.
It all made sense in an instant.
The missing photo; my missing Invitation Vial.
Just the thought of him breaking into my apartment made my blood boil.
At that precise moment, a soft whimper coming from the corner of the veranda caught stole my attention away. Because of the pitch black shadows casted over that area, all I could make out was a dark figure quietly watching us.
The figure stepped into the light to reveal himself.
"Lady Winterhaven. Alpha Magnus."
"Damiano?" I heard Magnus call out, his voice laced with confusion.
Damiano bowed stiffly in reply. He was dashing as ever in a dark red and black ensemble. Although, I noticed his silk cravat (and the top button of his breeches) had come oddly undone. After a harsh throat clear, Damiano muttered, "Good work on the decorations."
"...thanks?" I said suspiciously.
He nodded at me with a wavering smile. "I'll leave you to whatever you are doing, then."
Without saying anything further, he crossed the veranda and ducked into the hotel.
Weird.
A light shuffle came from the same darkened corner, startling me. A second later, Ylvaine materialised from the shadows, the front ribbon of her dress untied. Under the moonlight, she was completely puce, her light blue eyes large like a frightened rabbit's.
After an mortifying beat, Ylvaine let out an embarrassed yelp and dashed back into the hotel, leaving behind only an echo of her jasmine-scented perfume in the air.
YOU ARE READING
BEWITCHED & BOTHERED
Paranormal☆ 2022 WATTYS SHORTLIST ☆ Leonora 'Lena' Winterhaven is a witch on a dry spell. Somehow, she is the only one left in her coven (and possibly all of New York!) to still have her virtue intact at the age of twenty-nine. This would be fine and dandy, i...
