Page 108 of The Witching Hours

Again, he laughed out loud. It was a pleasant sound, but I either heard or imagined threatening undertones.

“I can see you’re an uncommonly clever woman,” he said, “Not to be trifled with.”

“Your flattery lacks subtlety. Come on.” I clapped my hands like a second-grade schoolteacher. “Back in the vase.”

His responding smile wasn’t quite so friendly. “I cannot comply.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“Cannot?”

“Why?”

“I have few options. My nature is its own prison. You might say I’m compelled to perform a service and, once done, I’ll be returned to a state of waiting.”

“Until the next person rubs the vase in a certain way.”

“Precisely.”

“That’s… tragic.”

He shrugged. “From a certain point of view.”

“From every point of view.”

“As you wish. Do you want your dog to be quiet?”

“Yes. WAIT! Verbally expressing something I want doesn’t qualify as a wish.”

He grinned. “Agreed. Your wishes will not count as wishes unless you name them such specifically.”

“Okay. This agreement is not a wish. It’s a conversation.”

He chuckled. “The dog?”

“You’re going to get Paddy to be quiet? You’re not going to hurt him or alter him or make me sorry I accepted your help?”

“You drive a hard bargain. I agree to your terms.”

“What’s my recourse if you don’t abide by your agreements?”

The smile with the more wicked edge to it returned. “Interesting question. I guess the answer is sort of.”

“No. The answer can’t be sort of.”

“Why? That’s what you say when you don’t know.”

“So, the answer is that you don’t know. There’s no prescribed consequence if you breech a verbal contract with me?”

“I don’t know because I’ve never tested it. Would you like me to? It sounds amusing.”

“No. It does not sound the slightest amusing.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say. Allow the dog access to the premises.”

I stepped into my little laundry room, opened the hatch that covered the dog door, and predictably, Paddy came flying in. He rushed past me as if I wasn’t there.

By the time I turned around and stepped back into the kitchen, Paddy was happily gobbling chicken bits from Mitch’s hand.

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