The glass vial was cold as I rolled it between my palms, causing the cherry-hued liquid inside to slosh around. A small gold-rimmed card was tied to the mouth of the vial, with the words 'Drink when the clock strikes midnight on October 30th' embossed in elegant script.
I eyed the potion warily. Kaiser better had gotten the spell right, or the Dark Society Elders will lose their heads. And then the whole committee will lose our heads—literally.
A slash of guilt went through my body when Tara's face popped into my mind.
She'll kill me once she finds out about me and Magnus.
I never thought of myself as a home-wrecker. It surely put the whole Teddy-Ylvaine thing in perspective. I should pay Tara a visit soon, even if my powers were all but gone and she'd rip me to shreds. At least I'll die with dignity.
I set the invitation vial down onto the kitchen counter and checked my phone.
Kaiser: You're the first to get the Invitation Vial. Touched?
I rolled my eyes when I read the text. One thing I was looking forward to the most about turning human was the prospect of never seeing a single warlock again.
When the courier delivered the parcel earlier, anxiety flared in my chest at the thought that it was sent from Sonny Grasso. Thankfully, my fears were sequestered once I found the Invitation Vial inside.
Lena: Hardly. Did you spike it?
Kaiser: One way to find out.
Lena: No thanks.
Kaiser: Offer still stands, babycakes. I'll make it worth ur while.
As much as I'd love to ask the warlock to fuck off, I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply and clicked my phone shut, shoving it into the back pocket of my Levi's in a loud huff.
The Dark Masquerade was precisely next week. Come to think of it, Magnus and I still had some finishing touches to discuss regarding the Ball's decorations—mainly concerning props and furniture to rent. If this was going to be my last Ball, I had to make it so memorable that I'll think back on it proudly for the remainder of my mortal life.
So maybe a professional meeting was what both of us needed to set our minds on.
Not a date.
Even if that idea made my stomach rumble in anticipation.
Before I could dash upstairs to rethink my outfit for the hundredth time, the doorbell rang. I nearly stumbled over my own feet to get to the door, yanking it open with a ridiculous grin on my face.
Upon seeing me, Magnus' eyes darted to my feet.
"Interesting choice of footwear."
I looked down at my Dolce & Gabbana leopard print booties, a statement piece that stood out in contrast to my plain white tank and straight-cut jeans.
I shrugged playfully. "I'm a big Shania Twain fan."
His face broke into a sly smile that made my heart flutter. "And here I was, thinking a rodeo date would be far too adventurous."
"We're going to see cowboys?" I asked, my brows shooting up in excitement.
"Sorry, you'll have to settle for one boring werewolf instead."
I pretended to be let down. "Bummer."
Magnus held out his arm to me. He was clad in a powder blue button-up and grey slacks, looking like a princely escort out of many women's fantasies. And just because it all seemed too good to be true, I visibly faltered.
"You should know, I'm against dating engaged men," I said, unable to get the image of Tara disemboweling me out of my head.
His grey eyes glinted at my words. "I'm not engaged. Not anymore," he offered plainly.
My jaw dropped. "Since when?"
"Since you told me you wanted me." Magnus' lips curved into a devilish smirk as he lowered his face to mine. "I'm a one-woman kind of werewolf myself."
A sense of satisfaction spread through my body, and I found it hard to keep myself from smiling back. Magnus nodded to the waiting crook of his hand. "Shall we go, wee witch?"
I hooked my arm to his, inwardly delighted to feel his warmth again. It brought back the memory of darkened halls inside LeCourt Manor—a memory I now looked back on fondly.
"Lead the way, big wolf."
✫
Despite living in New York for nearly three decades, my glamorous high-heeled feet had never trekked the streets of Glamhurst. Years ago, after Hugo regaled me tales of violent junkies and random stabbings, the neighbourhood became one of the places I steered clear of.
But now as I eyed the sidewalks, littered with artsy, hipster couples walking their dogs and families strolling around with wide smiles, Glamhurst didn't look like the lawless, blood-soaked site I initially envisioned.
In fact, it reminded me of Brooklyn, with its' cheerfully bright street art and generational pizzerias lining up the blocks.
"A couple of years ago, you wouldn't even recognise the neighbourhood." Magnus' deep timbre interrupted my train of thought. He had noticed the shock on my face before I could reel my emotions in. I tucked a stray wave behind my ear to appear nonchalant.
"Honestly, I've never been to Glamhurst," I admitted.
"Out of fear for your life?" Magnus sarcastically quipped.
"And maybe a little high fashion snobbery." I laughed deprecatingly.
Magnus smiled at me. "Well, you're here now."
He parked his car in front of a building that looked both sleek and inviting with its' modern industrial style decor—from the exposed red brick walls to the black steel frames around the doors and windows. I exited the car in pure astonishment, never once taking my eyes off the building's beautiful architecture.
As we approached the front steps, I couldn't help but notice how Magnus stopped to exchange pleasantries with every person who entered or exited the building. He knew each of them by name, whether it was an elderly couple, a tatted-up teen or a young boy with SpongeBob floaters around his scrawny arms.
Once the boy disappeared behind the doors of the building, Magnus whipped around to look at me, rubbing the back of his head bashfully.
"That was Alec. He goes to the pool every day. Wants to be the next Michael Phelps but I made him promise to wear his floaters until he was sure he could swim on his own," Magnus explained and I smiled, an unfamiliar warmth igniting in the middle of my chest.
"The Giulia Russo Community Centre," I mumbled aloud, reading the sign above the entrance. "Who's Giulia Russo?" I asked, turning to Magnus.
He flattened his lips, looking unsure. Just when I was about to say something, Magnus uttered, "My mother."
I softened my gaze and nodded in understanding. "She would've been so proud of you, Magnus."
"I hope so," he said, digging his heel into the ground awkwardly. When he made eye contact again, he looked apologetic.
"Listen, I know you were probably expecting something more romantic, but I was actually invited to a friend's birthday party inside. If you don't feel like it, we can go somewhere else—"
I interrupted him by standing on my tiptoes to place a kiss at the side of his cheek. Magnus raised his eyebrows, flabbergasted.
"Stop talking or we'll miss the party," I said, beaming at the sight of Magnus' genuine delight.
If the community centre was impressive from the outside, then the interiors were out of this world.
The centre was divided into two massive wings, and it was packed to the brim with a diverse group of people, a number of which (according to Magnus) were heading towards the left wing for geriatric yoga at the indoor tennis court.
Even from the lobby, I could hear the sound of water splashing, coming from the Olympic-sized pool located at the opposite wing.
"Rosemary used to work as the receptionist here. She's turning one-hundred today," Magnus said for context once we dipped from the lobby into a hallway that led to the left wing. As we inched closer to an event hall just beyond the tennis court, the muffled, rhythmic thumping of music grew louder.
I blew out a breath. "A century-old! Maybe she knows some of the Elders."
Magnus chuckled before agreeing, "I wouldn't be surprised. She's a complete flirt."
"Ah. Competition," I said and narrowed my eyes at him playfully.
Magnus intertwined his fingers with mine and lowered his lips to my ear. "Nobody can hold a candle to you, wee witch," he whispered, sending shivers down my neck.
While I recovered from the sudden attack on my senses, Magnus opened the door to let me in, allowing the strobing lights to spill onto the hallway and bathe everything neon pink.
I grinned like an idiot at the sight of elderly men and women dancing to a BeeGees song, blaring through the speakers at a volume that would put Coachella to shame.
"They have to put it this loud or they wouldn't hear it with their hearing aids!" Magnus shouted through the noise. I almost laughed, but caught myself when I realised he was being serious.
"Want to meet the birthday girl?" He asked humorously. Before I could agree, he escorted me through the dance floor, weaving through the empty spaces between the crowd.
I broke out into a laugh, suddenly feeling very giddy. Maybe it was the music, or maybe the neon lights...
Ah, who was I kidding?
It was all because of Magnus—holding my hand, grey eyes piercing my soul as we drifted across a sea of (possibly intoxicated) seniors.
We found Rosemary soon enough, sitting on a makeshift throne made out of a plastic chair wrapped in shiny Christmas tinsel. She was surrounded by a bevy of elderly gentlemen, addressing each of them like a literal queen.
It seemed befitting that she wore a paper crown atop her snow-white hair, with the words 'BIRTHDAY GIRL' printed in the front.
"My favourite boy!" Rosemary disregarded her suitors and leapt into Magnus arms, nearly tackling him down if not for his super reflexes. I bit back a laugh as he shot me an exaggerated grimace.
"Happy birthday, lass," Magnus said with affection, setting Rosemary down on her coral red flats. I couldn't stop myself from gasping aloud when I realised what they were.
"Those are Valentino!" I squealed excitedly.
Rosemary gave me a proud twirl and then pointed to my booties. "D&G? I see you have my taste in feet jewels."
Feet jewels? Rosemary may be onto something there.
Magnus gestured towards me. "Rosie, this is the wee witch I was telling you about."
I was about to glare at him for publicly calling me out, but Rosemary snatched my attention by pulling me into a tight hug and kissing my cheeks in adoration.
"Mr. Allan told me how enchanted he was by you, Lena. Now that I've laid eyes on you, I can understand why he calls you a witch!" she sung melodiously over the music.
I could feel my cheeks burn up at the comment. "Thank you," I said awkwardly, before adding in a rush, "Happy birthday! I'm sorry I didn't bring anything."
Rosemary waved me off, pursing her lips. "Nonsense. Seeing you two is a gift enough. Especially this boy!" She reached up to pinch Magnus cheeks. After a few attempts to evade, Magnus finally relented with a frustrated groan.
I wondered what the Blood Moon Pack would think about their Alpha being assaulted by an elderly, petite woman.
"Okay, lass. That's about enough or you'll pinch the cheeks off me!" Magnus gently broke from her grasp, causing the older woman to tut in reply. His face broke into a disarming grin, the kind no female could resist—not even Rosemary.
"I'm going to get Lena some drinks," he uttered. It was an obvious excuse to get away from frisky Rosemary, an opportunity he extended to me when he asked, "Do you want to join me or will you be fine on your own?"
"Oh hush, boy! I'm not going to eat her alive!" Rosemary said with a haughty pout.
"I'll be fine," I said with a dismissive wave. "Rosemary and I can have some girl's talk."
Magnus shot me a look, as if to say 'suit yourself', before he left for the makeshift bar at the end of the hall. Although, he kept getting sidetracked by partygoers who were vying for his attentions.
"Do you know Mr. Allan is the reason why Glamhurst is the way it is right now?"
I shifted my gaze to Rosemary, who was staring at me intently with a mysterious smile.
"I didn't know that," I said with a sideways shake of my head.
She readjusted her cardigan, a vintage Chanel piece that filled me with envy. This woman had taste with a capital T.
"He's not the bragging sort, our boy. When he moved to New York from Scotland, the first thing he did was build this community centre. Of course, he ran into abit of...trouble...in the beginning."
I nodded gravely. "I know who you're talking about."
Rosemary's face twisted into a shared look of disgust. "They caused a lot of problems to small business owners in the neighbourhood. And after Mr. Allan began paying them off to leave us alone, he practically saved the neighbourhood."
"He paid for everybody?" My eyes bulged out in disbelief. Magnus only told me about the 'protection money' he paid for his company's projects. I didn't know that he coughed up for practical strangers, too.
No wonder everyone treated him like a celebrity.
Scratch that. People talked to him like he was Mother Theresa.
"Just the ones who couldn't afford it. That makes almost everybody, dear," Rosemary said with a long maternal sigh.
My heart fluttered upon looking at Magnus again, who was laughing at something an older gentleman was saying. He had been trying to make his way back to me for awhile now, but people stopped him from doing so, one after another.
Despite that, Magnus still entertained their conversations, his grey eyes sparkling with kindness—a trait I was too blind to notice because I was caught up in our differences and my own problems.
When I was too moved to speak, Rosemary continued, "Soon enough, younger people began moving to Glamhurst because of the cheaper rent. With all the new young blood, the economy began to flourish, many people got jobs and suddenly Glamhurst became one of the safest places to live in New York."
"He's a modern day superman," I said and Rosemary nodded enthusiastically. "That makes you Lois Lane." she tipped her chin at me.
"I don't know about that," I retorted hastily.
Rosemary tutted at me. "You're his kryptonite, Lena. The way he talks about you—how he looks at you! Don't tell me you haven't noticed, dear."
"Notice what?" Magnus voice suddenly interjected, causing me to jump.
Rosemary feigned innocence. "Oh, shoes. I was just noticing her shoes."
"She's a big Shania Twain fan," he said blandly whilst handing a cup of soda to me. I mumbled my thanks, feeling a little hot under my tank top since Magnus' return.
"Really?" Rosemary exclaimed. "I must tell the DJ to play 'Man! I Feel Like A Woman."
In a blink of an eye, she'd dashed off to the DJ, which, in this scenario happened to be a greying Asian man wearing a Hawaiian shirt standing in front of a MacBook.
I drained the cherry cola in one gulp, regretting immediately when the fizziness stung the back of my eyes.
"Everything alright?" Magnus smoothed the back of my neck with his hand, causing a rush of goosebumps down my skin. My insides turned molten at the sight of his grey eyes and for a moment I lost the ability to speak.
I liked him so damn much it wasn't fair.
What contributed to the unfairness of it all was the fact I had to wait until November first to jump his bones.
Magnus reiterated his question just as the iconic brass horn line from the Shania number blared through the speakers. I locked eyes with Rosemary for a brief moment, just in time for her to gesture to the dance floor with her flailing arms.
Adrenaline pumped through me in an instant. Without a word, I took both our cups and placed it on a nearby table, all the while smirking at Magnus.
"What are you doing?" Abject terror began to contort his features as I grabbed hold of his hands and led him to the middle of the dance floor. "I told you I cannae dance, wee witch," Magnus protested.
For the (totally unselfish) purpose of shutting him up, I pulled his face down so our lips could meet in a searing kiss. Once we broke for air, Magnus stared at me with a dazed look in his eyes, unable to speak. Well, at least he wasn't protesting anymore.
"You're dancing with me, Magnus MacCallan. And that's that."
✫
That evening, Magnus and I ambled towards my front porch in high spirits, probably out of excessive laughter and caffeinated sodas. Once we reached the door to my place, I pushed my back against it so I could face him.
In turn, Magnus leaned his shoulder onto my doorframe, pinning me in place with his presence.
"Did you have a good time?" His breath was warm and laced with cherry cola, a sweet fragrance that made my head spin.
"You danced, Magnus. Or at least tried to. So obviously it was the best date I ever had."
I had to stop myself from giggling at the memory of Magnus awkwardly shuffling his feet, looking like a stiff plank with legs. What made it worse (and infinitely more hilarious) was when the gentlemen around us, including Rosemary, began giving him dancing tips.
Magnus had turned radioactive red back then, his ego withering out of embarrassment. To his credit, he never once snapped at anybody and was such a good sport he stayed on the dance floor for two more songs, before dragging me away to safety.
An endearing blush crept onto his cheeks as he growled, "You must promise not to tell anyone—especially Callum. I have a reputation to keep as an Alpha werewolf, after all."
"Of course, Alpha Magnus," I said with a mock salute.
"I told you never to call me that," he whispered, hovering his face over mine so close I could feel the flutter of his eyelashes against my brow.
"Why not...Alpha Magnus?" I prodded again mischievously.
The corner of his mouth twitched, but then he broke into a lazy grin.
"Because I see you as my equal. I always have."
My breath hitched. "You see, when you say stuff like that I don't know how to respond without sounding like an idiot," I whispered back, the pounding in my chest growing more erratic.
The gold in his eye glinted. "Sometimes the best response is done physically instead of verbally."
My lips tingled at the brazen challenge. Before I could make up my mind on whether to kiss him senseless, Magnus had pulled back with a pained expression.
"I'm sorry, wee witch. I shouldnae stay any longer."
I frowned in confusion at his altered mood, but then I saw the muscles straining against his button-up. And after another glance at the front of his slacks, I could see what was the issue.
Magnus was too turned on; unfortunately, that turned me on even more.
I shut my eyes to calm my own beating heart. "Fuck," I cursed.
"Don't say that word, you'll set me off," he warned.
I smiled at him wearily. "I guess it's goodbye, then."
"Not goodbye. See you soon." Magnus offered a smile too, although it didn't reach his intense greys.
"We should talk about props to rent for the Ball," I called out when he began walking away.
"We will, another time. After I take my frustrations out on a batch of firewood," he replied stiffly, practically hauling himself into his Range Rover. I couldn't help but laugh as he slammed his car door shut in a stunning display of unkept emotion.
I swivelled around to unlock my door, only to freeze once it swung open with a mere twist of the doorknob.
Strange.
I was pretty sure I'd locked it earlier.
However, it was possible I'd been too preoccupied by Magnus that I simply forgot to. I pushed the feeling of uneasiness back down to where it came from.
Maybe I was thinking too much.
Maybe.