Love Potion #9 (19 page)

But Lilith didn't want Mitch blaming the dog. “Maybe it wasn't his fault.”

“What do you mean? Of course it was. He's smart enough to know what he's doing.” Mitch's lips drew to a taut line and he cast a glance over the fence. “And he's trained well enough to know better than that.”

“It's not his fault.” Lilith shook her head and pointed to the half-empty pot in her sink. “No joke, that
is
a magickal brew, Mitch. Cooley drank half of a potion intended for forty men. It's no wonder it had such an effect on him.”

Mitch folded his arms across his chest. One chestnut brow arched high. “Another love potion?”

Lilith laughed. “No, a love
antidote
.”

Mitch didn't smile. “I don't understand.”

Lilith was more than ready to explain. After all, there was no reason to keep secrets from her one true love. “It's for those men out there. You see, they were caught up in the web of the love spell I cast for you. It seems to have worked really well on them, for whatever that's worth, but I just can't have them standing out there forever.”

Mitch's expression was blank and Lilith had no doubt that was deliberate. She just couldn't guess why.

But then, it was going to take time for them to learn all of each other's secrets. Lilith was more than prepared to make the investment.

“So, you mixed up an antidote,” he said casually.

“Well, what else could I do? At least we know it works.”

Mitch shook his head. “We don't know anything of the kind.”

“Of course we do. I gave some to Kurt and he changed his mind about pursuing me.”

Mitch peered at the green contents of the pot. “Kurt drank this willingly?”

Lilith smiled. “I told him it was my own special brew.” She fluttered her eyelashes tellingly and Mitch shook his head.

His eyes twinkled, then eyed the concoction dubiously. “It is amazing what he'll do. Will it hurt him?”

“No.” Lilith tapped a fingertip on Mitch's arm. “Of course, if I had known you were coming to save me,” she murmured, “I wouldn't have had to even give him any.”

“I wasn't...” Mitch started to protest, then fell silent. He frowned, looked at Lilith, then turned his attention back on the cauldron.

The back of his neck got red. Lilith smiled, liking very much that Mitch was hesitant to name his own noble urges. Actions were the proof of good intent, after all, not just words.

“Kurt's a good guy, but he has kind of a one track mind,” he said gruffly.

“It's okay,” Lilith whispered and sidled up beside him. “Feel free to come to my rescue any time you like.”

Mitch's eyes flashed, but Lilith reached past him for the cauldron. He stepped back as she hefted it over to the stove.

His tone was considering when he finally spoke. “And you're saying this potion is why Cooley growled at you?”

“Of course! It's clearly not in his nature. Kurt and Cooley - that's proof enough for me.” Lilith gave Mitch a stern glance. “Two points do make a line, you know, at least last I heard. Honestly, Mitch, you just have to think these things through logically to see what perfect sense they make. It's not hard.”

Mitch blinked and didn't seem to have much to say about that.

Lilith frowned at the pot, intent on getting things back on schedule. “Maybe if I pick out the dog hairs and bring it back up to a boil, it will still be okay.”

Mitch grimaced comically. “After Cooley's had his jowls in it? Remind me never to eat at this restaurant.”

Lilith threw back her head and laughed at his teasing. “You don't have to drink it! Besides I don't have enough ingredients to make up another batch.” She considered the pot and decided. “It's just going to have to do.”

Lilith turned on the element, then glanced pointedly to Mitch. “So, will you pour for the first hour or should I?”

 

* * *

 

7

The Chariot

 

If anyone had told Mitch two weeks before that he would be offering a green brew in mismatched bone china cups and saucers to an unlikely gathering of men on the sidewalk in front of his new neighbor's house, he wouldn't have believed it.

And even a few minutes before, he wouldn't have believed that those same men would have willingly drunk Lilith's brew. The stuff had a wicked smell, even after she ladled a big glob of honey into it.

But it seemed that just her endorsement was enough to have all those star-struck men sipping like obedient puppies. They lifted their pinkies in the air as they held the delicate cups, their gazes locked on Lilith as though they couldn't bear to look anywhere else.

Mitch certainly didn't imagine that the “potion” would work, even after Cooley's and Kurt's responses. He wasn't nearly as ready as Lilith to draw a line between those points.

But he was curious. The mark of a good journalist, Mitch told himself, refusing to acknowledge that he had any interest in seeing these guys move along.

He watched them drink, not a word from any of them, and felt as though he had stepped into a foreign film with incomprehensible sub-titles. The scary thing was that this wasn't the first Truly Weird thing Mitch had witnessed since he moved. Or even, the first Truly Weird thing he had done in Lilith's company.

He tried not to think about that.

He tried not to think about Lilith's new certainty that he was her champion, much less the warm feeling that gave him inside.

He tried not to think about the way she kissed him, or the scent of her perfume, or even to notice the contrast of her bare feet against the grass.

He really tried not to be charmed by a woman who chided him for not using good solid logic to make conclusions, even if her assumptions were a bit out of this world.

And most of all, Mitch tried not to worry about any of these men responding to Lilith's potion the way Cooley supposedly had. Lilith had refused to hear anything about the possibility, but Mitch watched them sip dutifully and wondered.

Of course, what Mitch should have been doing was trying to find out about Lilith's nefarious schemes. He should have been ferreting out the truth about Andrea's cruise. He should have been focused and diligent and concentrating on the job he had made his own.

But instead, after the men had drained their teacups, he stood with Lilith, holding the empty tray and his breath. And Mitch watched as, one at a time, they each got that look of confusion, as though they had just awakened from a long dream and weren't quite sure where they were.

They looked at Lilith.

In obvious uncertainty, they looked at Mitch, the house, each other, then back at Lilith again. They looked down to the cups in the hands, then at Lilith one more time. Several checked their watches, one looked at the sky as though unable to fathom where the hours had gone. The cable guys frowned at the parking tickets clustered on the windshield of their truck.

Then without a single word, the men turned and left as one.

They dumped their cups back on Mitch's tray, studiously avoided his gaze, and stepped away without a backward glance. It was incomprehensible, it was illogical, it was whimsical.

But it seemed that Lilith's potion was working.

And even more oddly, Mitch couldn't quell his relief when the last of them rubbed his brow and wandered away. When Lilith hooted with delight and threw herself into his arms, Mitch decided it would be rude to not catch her.

And even more rude to not kiss her.

Although he suspected that he invited her for dinner for an entirely different reason than he should, Mitch did it anyway. And even though his heart took that strange double-skip when Lilith accepted the invitation, he knew that couldn't mean anything at all.

It wouldn't have been logical, after all.

 

* * *

 

When Mitch ushered Lilith into the house and announced with no small measure of triumph that she was staying for dinner, Andrea was certain she couldn't have planned things better herself. Mitch didn't look nearly as grim as he had recently, which could only be a good sign. And Lilith was flushed like a girl in love.

Perfect.

“About time you showed up,” Andrea chided, having no intention of revealing how much this development pleased her. “Dinner's going to be burned to a crisp.”

“Cooley had an altercation with Lilith's storm door,” Mitch supplied amiably.

Lilith's eyes twinkled. “The door lost.”

Andrea smiled. She could just imagine. And from the look of these two, there were no hard feelings over the matter.

“Lillit, where's your kitty?” Jen demanded, her fair brow tight with concern. “Is he all alone?”

“No, Jen, he's okay.” Lilith crouched down beside the little girl and shared that smile. “He's just asleep.”

“In the furthest corner of the attic,” Mitch muttered. “It'll probably be days before he -“ Mitch paused and looked at Jen “- uh, before he wakes up.”

Jen bit her lip with consternation. “Is Dartaggin sick?”

“No, no.” Lilith shook her head. She seemed to exude a soothing calm and Andrea noted with approval that Jen was not immune to its effect. The little girl visibly relaxed. “He's just tired.” Lilith's lips quirked as though she couldn't stop them. “He had a busy, busy day.”

“Lots of running around,” Mitch contributed. The pair looked at each other for the first time since they had walked in the door and started to chuckle.

Andrea didn't understand why and she didn't much care. It was good to see Mitch smiling in a woman's company again.

The timer went off and Andrea flicked on the oven light, trying to discern without opening the door whether the frozen french fries were cooked or not.

“Well, my bug
is
sick,” Jason piped up.

Lilith immediately looked as though this was the mightiest problem confronting the free world. Andrea smiled to herself, then decided to leave those fries just a few minutes longer. She hated when they were mushy inside.

“Oh, what's wrong with him?”

“I dunno.” Jason entrusted Lilith with his mayonnaise jar and they peered through the fogged glass together. “He hasn't moved much since I caught him.”

“Mmm. Do you know what kind of bug it is?”

“A cicada. His name is Bob.”

“Bob the Cicada?” Lilith echoed.

Mitch cleared his throat suddenly and Andrea caught the glint in his eye. “Bob,” he mouthed silently as he came to Andrea's side, then shook his head as he bit back his laughter. Andrea was very relieved to see his eyes sparkle like that. Mitch reached into the fridge for the hamburger patties. “Is the grill on?”

“Yes, it's ready,” Andrea confided. “So are the fries, just about.”

“Fries?” Mitch grimaced. “What happened to salad?”

“Oh, we won't waste your nice salad. Now, shoo. And hurry up.” Andrea flicked her hands and Mitch shooed, both of them content to leave the kids talking to Lilith.

“There's Bob!” Jen cried.

Jason tapped a finger on the jar. “See? Right there.”

Lilith frowned with concern. “He's awfully still, Jason.”

“What's the matter with him?”

Lilith pursed her lips in thought. “Do you know what cicadas do when they're happy?”

Jason shrugged, Jen watched Lilith with wide eyes.

“Well, they're not so different from us,” Lilith confided and dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor between the children. “They like to sing.”

Jason shook his head, daddy's little skeptic. “Bugs don't sing!”

“Not really. But they can rub their wings together and make a sound that we call singing. Crickets do it, too.”

“I thought that was when they wanted to find a lady cricket and make babies.”

“See? Just like us.” Lilith smiled. “People sing when they're courting, too. And they court when they're happy. Has Bob been singing?”

“No.” Jason was solemn.

“Then, maybe, he isn't very happy.”

“But why not? I put lots of grass and stuff in the jar for him!”

“Maybe it's too hot. Or maybe he just doesn't like being stuck in the jar.” Lilith made a face. “Do you like when you have to stay in your room?”

“No.”

“It's kind of the same, isn't it?”

Jason shuffled his feet as he considered that.

Mitch strode back into the kitchen and put the dirty plate in the sink. “Five minutes a side.”

“Can't I have mine rare?” Andrea asked.

One look from Mitch answered her question. “You do remember our microscopic friend E. coli bacteria? And that article I did about all those people who were so sick last summer?”

Andrea rolled her eyes and soundly cursed little invisible things that took the fun out of life. But Mitch had already begun listening intently to Lilith's conversation with Jason.

“But if I let Bob go,” Jason reasoned carefully, a tiny version of his father chasing down a solution, “then I won't be able to look at him anymore.”

Lilith smiled sadly. “If you don't let him go, Bob will stay sad. He might get so sad that he dies.” Jason frowned, but Lilith leaned closer to him. “You know, a long time ago, I knew a very wise woman and she told me a magic rule that just might help you decide what to do.”

Jason immediately brightened. “What kind of magic rule?”

“Is it a secret?” Jen asked in a hushed voice.

Lilith smiled. “Kind of a secret,” she acknowledged. “It's a rule to make sure you live a good life.
Do whatsoever you will, but harm none.
”

Jason's brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you can do whatever you want as long as it doesn't hurt anybody else.”

That sounded like fine thinking to Andrea. In fact, it sounded like a variant of Mitch's own code of ethics. She slanted a glance to her stepson and found his gaze fixed on their neighbor. He looked a bit surprised by Lilith's rule.