Here There Is Magic

Will knew that she was just trying to keep the mood light, but he wasn’t in the right headspace to be teased. He took another long sip of his drink then shrugged. “There are hundreds of bars in this city, how did you know I’d be here?”

The woman’s voice didn’t falter from a cold tone for a single moment. Harry kept his chin up though. Perhaps he’d be able to charm something out of her. He nodded slowly at her comment. All the comment about the penthouse made Harry think was that she obviously came from money and had always been surrounded by money. “Oh, that’s nice for you,” Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded before taking a drag of his spliff. “I live on the floor just below you then,” It wasn’t the penthouse but it wasn’t far off from being it in size. The place had been one of Harry’s first splurges after he got his first big cheque in. “Oh no, I’ve not seen you. I’ve just heard about you from some of the other residents. We’re not a tightknit bunch but everyone’s happy for a chat in the halls.”

“Yeah, maybe not so comfy for us but… For this little fella? He seems pretty content.” Ricky replied with a small smile, unable to help but be amused by the sight before him. It was kind of cute, really… Seeing Chaos jumping up into Mave’s arms with dirt and dust on his fur, as well as a rather neatly placed smudge right on his nose.

The brunette blinked at her disgust, looking to the cat then back up at her. “Uhm… Would you like me to call someone to help with the mess?” He offered softly, spotting the few paw prints that were now pressed against her nice outfit. “I can get you some wet towels to wipe him off too, if you’d like.” Ricky wasn’t quite sure how to manage the situation, especially considering he wasn’t an expert in cat care or pet grooming.

“Well I wish he weren’t so content,” She sighed. “Especially since he’s not fond of baths — but then he goes ahead and lays in a muddy plant.” Mave tsked softly, her hand running along the purring cat’s back, further dispelling some of the dirt.

Sighing, Mave shook her head, “If you’re talking about him...he doesn’t like anyone, not even Eadrick, and he’s the one who got him for me.” she recalled the moment her brother had come home with the cat — Chaos seemed to be rather unimpressed by her older brother. The small creature didn’t let many people close to him apart from Mave (on occasion he’d curl up with Falcon but that was as far as his interest in people seemed to extend). “He can be a bit of a nightmare, really.” Though she sighed she gave her cat a soft smile.

               “You are in comparison to me.” He retorts, then waves his hand a bit in a dismissive manner to keep her from responding again. “You may know what you’re getting into already, but this kind of dark magic upsets the balance between life and death, you better be ready to handle the repercussions should this go wrong.” He was not doubting her magical abilities any, but just stating that he was still uncomfortable with the idea. He sighs a little and he looked at her again, “well, I will pull some strings, make this seem like a legal thing…exhume him and deliver the body to you…” He’s quiet for a moment as he does some calculations, once done, he has one of the other vampire’s standing nearby hand him a pen and he write the number down, a cash payment. “There, my fee for doing this for you.” He slid the piece of paper across to her and then he rose a brow. “You will have him by the end of the week, I expect payment before then.”

“Listen, nobody wants to see what I’ve got packing until my Chef’s coat. And if they do, I’m sure they didn’t come all the way out here for my food,” he chuckled, shaking his head once more at the mere idea. But as Celeste continued, firing ideas at him in a similar fashion to the way he thought of new dishes, he reminded quiet, needing a few seconds to understand her vision fully. “An eggplant is just as bad, if not worse, than just slapping a photo of my junk on the wall. As much as I love that idea, I don’t want my guests sitting there, eating one of my perfectly cooked steaks and laughing at an abstract interpretation of myself.”

“We could compromise,” Demitri offered. “I could pose laying down. That way, you don’t have to keep nagging at me to stay still, and my arms won’t get tired from maintaining whatever ridiculous pose you twist me into.” Moving from his place, he circled the table and brought take-out containers from the top shelf. The time they shared was few and far between, so he carefully packed some dessert and leftover pasta into two boxes. 

“How long are you around for this time?” He wondered, hands still busy.

“Some girls like a man with enough self confidence to expose himself...emotionally,” Celeste teased, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. She rolled her shoulders and sighed, “I won’t make you strip if you don’t want to, people will just have to come here for the food instead of food and some eye candy,” though she was doing her best to keep her expression neutral, her smile won out in the end, consuming her expression as she watched him move around the kitchen.

Before he could refute, Celeste gave a firm nod of her head, “I’ll take it!” she exclaimed, accepting his offer — though she wasn’t quite sure if he meant it. Clothed or not, posing or just watching her paint, Celeste would gladly take any time with her best friend she could get.

Her hand darted forward, snatching a few pieces of the left over pasta and popping them into her mouth. She was never not hungry, though over the years Demitri had come dangerously close to making her feel full. “Mmh,” Celeste licked her fingers, head nodding, agreeing with the flavor of the food. “This was my last trip for a while.” she responded as she finished chewing. It wasn’t often that she did this much traveling but she’d been after a few art pieces for some clients and always felt better if she dealt with things in person.

Leaning against the counter, her gaze flickered toward the door of the kitchen, unable to see the windows of the restaurant; no doubt everything was still covered in white. “We’re supposed to have our own snow storm here,” she reminded him, meaning traveling would be difficult if not impossible. “Besides, I know you’re asking because you missed me!” Celeste cooed with a pleased giggle.

Though she was teasing him, Celeste knew, for a fact, that she had, at the very least, missed him. Especially since he’d been busy with the restaurant; there wasn’t much time for either of them to talk to one another. Texts were few and far between, and calls or facetime were both out of the question.

               “Dark magic leaves a mark on your soul, be careful what you do with it.” Lucian warns, he knew better than to try and convince her that this was probably going to be a bad idea, he could see it in her eyes that she’d probably do it anyway. When the name of her late boyfriend passes her lips, Lucian’s gaze seems to soften, some form of understanding being written in his features. Grief was one thing he could understand from others. “Ah….I see….your boyfriend…” His brows furrow slightly, glancing away momentarily before he sighs, bringing his hand to his own necklace, this time not caring if she caught him doing it. His eyes turn back to her after a few moments. “I will do this, but, if I find that this comes back to bite me, you’ll be the first person to know about it.”

“Yes, I vividly remember always having to cook and do the dishes,” Demitri scolded, shaking his head at the memory. It was impressive how quickly and easily she wiped the plate clean of the desert, and a deep chuckle escaped his lips. “Right, well, I knew the lady I hired was good. I just didn’t think she was this good. Might have to raise my prices if my guests are shovelling back this pave as fast as you are.”

Demitri had been so eager to open that details like decoration, lighting and artwork for the walls went unnoticed. He ignored emails from his designers with ideas of how to decorate and use the space. Instead, he simply gave them a budget, sat through two 20 minute meetings and said, ‘I trust you.’ It was difficult for him to relinquish trust to anyone, but they’d run with his ideas and made them their own, elevating it until the space captured the moody, fine dining atmosphere he’d always dreamed off. But still, he felt something was missing. Something that said ‘This is Demitri Douglas’ restaurant.’

“I want the press to cover the restaurant for the food, not for the half-naked chef holding a hat over his junk,” he groaned, looking back to where she stood by the dessert. “My guys said we should paint a fish. But nobody wants beady eyes staring at them while eating salmon. So I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I think it’d be worth it,” Celeste admitted, recalling the price she’d seen on the menu earlier. “Or at least give her a raise,” she added thoughtfully, her spoon digging into the second slice without hesitation. “If you don’t, I might have to hire her myself, she can just stay at my place all day and bake while I paint.” though she giggled, the thought of someone else baking for her all the time didn’t sound that enticing. There was always something comforting about being in the kitchen — making things for other people to enjoy. She’d settle for coming to the restaurant and paying for a plate (if not two).

“Half-naked?” Celeste echoed, her brows arching. “I was thinking a full frontal nude,” her tongue pushed past her lips, licking off some chocolate as she studied him, her gaze purposefully dipping before giving him a suggestive wiggle of her brows. “I suppose I could always marry the two and do something like Giuseppe Arcimboldo,” she shrugged. “Would you liken your lower half to a loaf of bread, or an eggplant?” The back of her hand pushed against her lips as she tried to suppress her giggle. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she cleared her throat trying to push the image of Demitri with a loaf of bread clutched between his thighs out of her head. “Could always give you some dead fish eyes while I’m at it,” she added, shifting the subject. 

She knew what he meant though — all through dinner, she’d been staring at the wall opposite her. It wasn’t bad being empty, but it did feel like something could be there. What would she paint for him anyway?

Jaxson walked in when he was told to, though made a face catching part of the conversation the other man was having on the phone. He nodded faintly when Liam said that he could start on some soup.” Sounds good.” he mumbled shutting the door behind him. He carefully and quietly moved to where the other man had set up the soup for him, careful to not make too much noise to disrupt the other mans phone call. He was never that kind of person, to be rude and interrupt a phone call. As Jaxson ate he was just casually looking through his phone as he waited for the other man to finish up. 

“Celeste...you confuse me.” Liam admitted with a soft laugh, listening to the girl ramble on the other end of the phone. “Why don’t you just go sit in a park and ask the spiders yourself,” He teased pulling out a few sides from the fridge and bringing them to the table. “Okay, okay, we can have a picnic or something,” he assured her with a smile “But for now it’s dinner time and I have someone over...no, you don’t know him...I mean...” he looked at Jaxson. “If you like that grumpy old man hardened by a life of crime look — then sure he’s cute. What? No! He catches criminals, he’s not a criminal, at least as far as I know...” he gave the man a purposeful stare though it broke with his usual smile. “I’m hanging up now, Celeste!” he said loudly into his phone, “Goodbye!” despite his remark, he waited a moment longer to hear with the girl had to say before he really did hang up.

                 Lucian knew a lot about witchcraft, being as old as he was, he’d had time to learn a trick or two, even if he didn’t possess magic himself, he had studied it to understand it. “A corpse…” The vampire repeats, giving her a bit of a look. “Why on earth would you need a corpse?” It seems Lucian’s tone had changed, curiosity lacing every worse. “And grave dirt?…. My dear, you’re not planning on raising the dead are you?” His hand moved a little tapping on the table in front of him. “I may not be entirely alive, but I have to strongly disagree if you are.” He’s quiet as he thinks for a few long moments, fingers coming and lacing together in front of him. “Whose corpse and why?”