Girl's Guide to Witchcraft by Mindy Klasky Page B

rambling, errant sheep. I watched in surprise as he lifted one of Melissa’s confections from the pottery plate on the coffee table. He took a bite, and his teeth flashed white against the shortbread and chocolate.
    “Mmm,” he said, chewing carefully and swallowing. “Lust, indeed.” I glanced at Melissa and saw her jaw drop, but it was my face that flamed with embarrassment. David’s eyes met mine. “Until tomorrow.”
    “Until tomorrow,” I echoed, and I closed the door after him. I took a moment to compose myself before collapsing into Melissa and Neko’s arms. Surrounded by their excited squeals, I wondered why they were cheering. Was it for me, because I was a witch? Or for me, a friend who had outwitted a demanding guest? Or for me, a completely exhausted and more than a little intoxicated homeowner and librarian and friend?
    What did it matter? They were my friends, and they were happy for me. Almost happy enough not to complain that we were out of mojitos.

9
     
    Someone had emptied an ashtray into my mouth. Probably the same someone who had pounded my forehead with a ball-peen hammer. The same someone who had placed ten-thousand-kilowatt lightbulbs outside my bedroom window.
    I moaned and rolled over, pulling my pillow on top of my head. My comforter slipped onto the floor (who had tangled it into such a massive knot while I slept?) and the chilly air immediately raised gooseflesh on my arms and legs. I swore and reached down for the quilt. My hand closed on empty air. I stretched farther, but found nothing. Resigning myself to do battle with the evil someone who had sabotaged my sleep—if only to regain my comforter—I sat up in bed.
    The clock screamed eight forty-five in angry red numbers.
    Eight forty-five.
    I needed to be at work in fifteen minutes.
    I swore again and threw myself into the hallway. One glance into the living room brought back all my memories of the night before. Had we really mixed another pitcher of drinks? Had we substituted vodka for rum? And frozen orange juice concentrate for lime juice? Screwdrivers, with mint, washing down two remaining Lust bars and not much else for supper? My belly trembled at the thought.
    No time to rue the damage.
    I splashed icy water on my face and began to attack my furry mouth with a generous swoop of Colgate. I made a face as I scraped the bristles across my tongue.
    “I wondered when you were going to wake up,” Neko said, and I swallowed half of my toothpaste in surprise.
    “Eye i’nt oo ake ee?”
    “What? Sweetheart, are you still drunk from last night? I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
    I spat into the sink and whirled to shake my toothbrush in his general direction. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
    “You needed your beauty sleep. After all, you’re going to be working with David Montrose from here on out, and I’d hardly be a good familiar if I didn’t make sure that you presented at your very best.” He smiled slyly and gave me an appraising look. I could only imagine the glamour that he beheld, with my hair standing out at all angles and toothpaste foaming at the corners of my mouth.
    “I have to be at work in fifteen minutes!”
    He glanced at his sleek wristwatch. “Ten, now.”
    “Arrrr!” I grabbed for a hand towel and wiped my face dry. My hairbrush caught in my tangles and I forced it through the knots as I pushed past Neko into my room. I slammed the door and offered up a silent thank-you to Evelyn’s foresight in establishing our latest get-out-the-patrons effort. At least I wouldn’t have to figure out what to wear. My colonial costume beckoned from my closet. Fashion Central, here I come.
    I tugged open a dresser drawer and fumbled around for underwear. One clean pair remaining. I cast a dagger glance toward the hallway.
    “Neko!”
    “Yes?” He was clearly standing just the other side of the door. I jumped at the sound of his voice so near and cast a reflexive eye toward Stupid Fish. The tetra was