Page 55 of Wishing for a Werewolf
I frown, not liking the haunted look in her eyes.
“No! It doesn’t create attraction,” the head sprite says. “It simply encourages you to act on what you’re already feeling. If you’re not attracted to anyone nearby, you dance.” He spins in the air, and the rest of the flock swirls around him, their wings flashing with iridescence in the last rays of the setting sun. “And we love to dance!”
Clothing rips, and the couple takes their amorousactivities to the next level.
“Yeah, what you’re saying sounds great and all, but Mr. Drexler and Mrs. Bernstein have worked with each other for years without anything likethiseffing happening.” The redheaded witch jabs a finger toward the moaning couple.
“I don’t know.” Skye says. “Remember how we all used to gossip that they had the hots for each other? Looks like we were right.”
“Teen gossip isn’t the same thing as blowing up your marriage!” Autumn gestures toward a shell-shocked man staring at the couple rolling on the ground. “Just look at Mr. Bernstein.”
I wince. That can’t be easy for him to see.
Then Mr. Bernstein leaps forward, scoops up a piece of pumpkin, and shoves it into his mouth before anyone can stop him. Spinning back around, he grabs the shoulders of the man standing beside him. “Daniel, it’s you. It’s always been you.”
“Oh, James, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that!”
They surge toward each other, and as soon as the second man ingests some of the Faerie Fruit lingering on his new lover’s lips, they fall to the grass in their own rather enthusiastic show of physical affection.
Hannah steps close to her husband to murmur, “Getting kind of R-rated over here. Can you do something about that?”
Shadows shoot from Severin to form an obscuring bubble of shadow around each couple. Then he casts a silencing spell around them as well. His eyes narrow as hetakes in the head sprite. “Remove the spell on the fruit.”
“No!”
With a scowl, Severin sends more tendrils racing forward to form a shield around the pumpkin so no other humans can get to it.
I let go of the woman’s shirt, and she falls to her knees, fists pounding on the barrier around the Faerie Fruit. When I drop my other arm, the rest of the people I’ve been holding back join her.
“See!” The sprite jabs a finger toward the display. “The humanswantto play with us. Don’t deny us this.”
“No, Faerie Fruit’s not safe for humans.” For fae, eating the fruit is about as intoxicating as a few ales. But humans either dance until they fall unconscious or have to climax multiple times to shake off its effect.
“But I want it.” The woman looks up at us, even as her hands still paw at the barrier. “I want to feel that… excited.” Her cheeks darken, but the blush isn’t as alluring on her as it is on my fire.
Severin pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
With the worst of the threat over, I call up my magic and shift back into a man, grateful to lose the discomfort of my tail being constrained by my jeans.
The humans trying to get to the Faerie Fruit moan, their voices full of longing.
“Severin,” Hannah says, her tone firm, her lips pressed into a thin line. The mayor’s clearly worried about her people.
“As you wish, my wife.” He waves a hand, and a shadow sphere surrounds the sprites, carrying them away toward thewaterfall and the door to Faerie. Then he squeezes his other hand, and the shadows enwrapping the bespelled pumpkin collapse inward, shrinking until nothing is left.
With a pop of released pressure, the humans on the ground fall forward, hands thumping onto the grass. They shake their heads, dazed eyes turning puzzled as they scramble to their feet.
“Are you guys okay?” Hannah asks. “You got kind of dizzy there.” She glances over her shoulder at Autumn and Skye, giving a little grimace before turning back to the humans still on the ground.
Soon all of the witches surround the affected townspeople, Autumn in the front, making sure everyone’s all right. As soon as all of the confused people have been comforted and sent home, the witches join us.
“Did you banish the sprites like you did the kelpie?” Autumn asks.
“What I did is temporary.” Severin shakes his head. “They didn’t do enough harm for a permanent banishment to hold.”
“We can’t let this happen again,” I say.
“Yeah,” Autumn says. Worry haunts her eyes as she glances at me before looking quickly away. “No more magic making people do things they don’t want to do.”
