~

“So, what are we going to do about killing Ross?” Moira’s question did take me by surprise.

There I was, standing out the back of the house, contemplating nature’s majesty, and thinking about Jack, as I stared up at the stars, enjoying the quiet that you just couldn’t find inside my house unless nobody was home, or everyone was sleeping.

“You really do have a problem with him being a werewolf, don’t you?” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

What I saw tonight wasn’t exactly a laughing matter, but it was something that I could use to wind my sister up with for the foreseeable future.

“Hey, I’ve read some … one, of those books that Eileen always has her nose pressed into. Big, alpha male, with the muscles, and the howling, and the…”

“Hot sex?” I slapped on a wide smile.

“That part, not so bad, but the fangs and the furry…” she bit down on her words.

“Not the life you were envisioning for you and Ross?” I teased her and watched her snap to attention.

“There is no, me and Ross, there never has been a, me and Ross, and there never will be a, me and furry balls, got it?”

“Someone’s got their lace panties in a twist,” I threw Ross’s favourite tease at her and watched as she scowled into the distance.

Maybe I was going a little too far, after all, she did just find out that the man that had always been around, and was always going to be there in one sense or another howled at a full moon. It had surprised the heck out of me.

“Come on, let’s grab some snacks, raid Gran’s stash of good scotch, and do a glamour spell on Eileen,” I said and saw her brighten a little.

“Bright pink hair and purple highlights?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah, that works for me.” She didn’t sound so enthusiastic, but a couple of nips of Scotch and she’d get in the spirit, and Eileen could take one for the team – again.

 

~

 

The shrill screeching that came from inside the bathroom the next morning made me shoot up from where I lay face down and drooling, and my head kicked me like a Highland Coo in protest. I groaned and pushed up further, and that was when Moira shot up to a sitting position on the floor beside my bed looking like she’d taken hair tips from a hedge witch and with wide, bloodshot eyes.

“Eileen!” she bit out and then chewed her furry tongue for a moment or two, and I know it was furry because mine felt like that as well. Gran’s good Scotch was potent.

I was in the middle of deciding how best to make my arms and legs work when Eileen screeched again. “I’m going to kill you two!”

“Glamour spell!” We said together before collapsing back in place, her on the floor and me on the bed.

“How could you?” Eileen demanded as she rushed into the room, and I pried open an eyelid and the other one shot open in surprise.

She sort of looked like a multicoloured chicken that had mated with an ostrich. I spat out laughter at the sight of her, and she stomped her foot on the carpeted floor, the whole upstairs vibrated. I have to admit that we’d gone overboard this time. I would also like to state for the record that I didn’t remember the spell at all.

Moira pushed up once more, slapping her palms against my mattress and eyed her handiwork because that wasn’t all me. The grin started slow on her lips and spread to the point where she was laughing uncontrollably.

“It’s funny, is it?” Eileen stomped again. Then she lifted her hands and zapped Moira.

“Well, now you’re in touch with your magic again, you can glamour that away,” I said and incurred her wrath as well.

“I hope Ross is your match,” she bit out at Moira.

“Be careful what you wish for,” I warned her.

“I wish Ross and Moira many happy years together in wedded bliss, and a handful of a litter to keep her occupied!” she rushed it out so fast that by the time Moira’s hangover fuddled brain caught up and zapped her, it was already too late.

“Bite your tongue,” Moira hissed, zapping her again, and Eileen yelped at the double pain, one from getting zapped and one from biting her tongue.

“What goes around comes around – thrice fold,” I reminded Eileen, and she swallowed hard.

“What? I didn’t spell her…”

“Close as makes no difference,” I said, to which her answer was mumbled curses as she turned and stormed off.

“What’s worse than a werewolf?” Moira scowled at the thought.

“A vampire!” We both said together.

 

~

 

I saw Ross pacing back and forth outside the bistro in vary stages of scratching his head and pondering his very existence on the planet. At least, that what I thought he might be doing. He knew we were witches, but what I guess he didn’t know was if we knew he was a werewolf.

I admit that on spotting him my first thought was to bar the windows and doors to him using a few well-tested magic wards that kept evil at bay, but it was Ross, and he didn’t exactly have his fur coat and fangs on, and quite frankly; he looked kind of pitiful.

When I yanked open the front door he froze in place; then he slowly turned toward me like he’d felt the Devil perched on his shoulder. I lifted my hand and shook the cookies that I’d put in a bag for him.

“Scooby snack in a doggie bag?” I asked with the brightest smile I could muster and watched his lower jaw sink.

I couldn’t help my chuckles, but I did have the good grace to try to bite down on them.

“You…?” he started and stopped.

“Last night was … different,” I said, spotting the gossips on the corner and not wanting them to overhear our conversation.

For a moment I envisioned them running down the street screaming; werewolf here, werewolf here, and that wouldn’t do any of us any good. Least of all Ross, people here still owned pitchforks.

If they could read lips, which I wouldn’t put past the canny old duffers, then good luck to them.

“I can…” he stopped again. “I can’t explain, but, Maggie, I swear, it’s not something I knew I…” He stopped again. “It wasn’t me…” he whispered.

“I have to say, Ross, it didn’t look like you, unless you count that weekend bender you went on last year…”

“T’is not funny, Maggie,” he grumbled, looking guilty and ashamed all in one look. “You’re a…” he gave a nod at me.

“Not a dog trainer…”

“A…” he nodded again.

“Respected business owner and pillar of the community?”

“Witch,” he whispered.

“I don’t think there’s a spell for what ails you.”

“Does Moira hate me?” That was a quick change of subject, but he was male.

“Why? Because you tried to make her supper, in more ways than one.” I eyed Mrs. Dougall who was edging closer to us, and she wasn’t very subtle with the whole leaning and craning her neck thing going on.

“I don’t think that was my attention. I was drawn to her like…” he looked confused.

“She smelled of cookie dough?” I offered. Mrs. Dougall took another step, and I rolled my eyes. “Come inside, you daft beggar.” I said loudly for Mrs. D’s benefit, “I’m sure Moira won’t hold it against you like a dog with a bone.”

I turned on my heels and wondered if Ross would follow me. It might have been the lure of the cookies, but he walked in behind me, just as Moira walked in from the kitchen carrying a tray of scones and wearing a shocked expression the moment that she saw him.

“No dogs, says so on the sign,” Moira hissed out.

“Play nice, kitty,” I chucked, tossing the bag of cookies over my shoulder and heard Ross catch them.

“He’s…” she bit down on a whole lot of anger issues that I could see on her face.

“Still our friend,” I said as I rounded the counter and took the tray from her hand. “Unless you want it otherwise.”

Moira pouted a word, but the sound never left her lips. She eyed Ross across the way.

“Sit!” She pointed to his regular table, and Ross made a beeline for the chair like he was a naughty schoolboy. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Ross admitted.

“No midnight snacking then?” she tossed back, and he shook his head so fast that I had to wonder how he didn’t make himself dizzy. Moira snorted and started to turn away.

“Can we stop with the dog jokes?” he asked. Poor, sweet, Ross, did he not know us at all?

“Not while you’re still in the doghouse,” I offered, and he groaned.

“We’re going to be all over it like fleas on a dog,” Moira tossed back over her shoulder.

“Maggie,” he pleaded.

“Stop with the puppy dog eyes – you made a dog’s dinner of it, and you’re just going to have to come to heel.” I think I had all my bases covered, and when Ross spluttered out a chuckle, I knew he was going to be alright.

I just didn’t want to meet his alter ego again anytime soon.