Page 92 of Dreams Do Come True

I shake my head. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Sly dramatically gasps and clutches his chest in fake shock. “Second best werewolf film after An American Werewolf in London. Film night at our place after the wedding.”

“Sounds like a plan. But for now, food,” Kean says.

“Or you could stay and talk to me,” Septamus says, springing up from behind a parked car. “Well, would you look at that? You have children, won’t they be fun to play with?”

“That’s something you’ll never do,” Temp says, stepping in front of us, Sly and Ben at his side.

“Oh, how sweet, you have these things to protect you,” he sneers, waving a hand at them.

“I honestly don’t need anyone to protect me, especially from you,” I tell him. “They are here to protect the boys.”

“Here, honey, let me take little man,” Kean says.

I pass Lyric over to him and step around the others. Ben goes to stand by his brother.

“What are their names?” Septamus asks, not taking his eyes off them.

I laugh. “There is no way I’ll tell you their names. There is no way you’re getting any closer to them than you are now. You’re lucky you’re still breathing, to be honest.”

“Give me back my magic,” he demands.

“Gods, you’re such a twat,” Temp shoots out. “You gave your magic away to Tarek remember, the dark witch you are so madly in love with, that you happily gave him your magic.”

“But not all of it. He bound the rest of my magic,” he shouts, pointing at me, “and he’s hiding Tarek away somewhere. I want my magic and Tarek back.”

“Oh shut up, you nutty windbag,” Sly says, stepping forward. “Your Tarek is deader than dead, never to be resurrected, your magic is gone forever. Even if Titus unbound what is left of your magic, you would have less than a fly, so you’d be able to do nothing with it. So just sod off and leave Titus, Cassie and the boys alone.”

“Or what?” Septamus spits out, his eyes angry. “I have this,” he says, pulling out a vial of something from his pocket.

“What’s that?” Temp asks him, eyeing said vial.

It looks like a fancy perfume bottle, with some kind of dark liquid inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he sneers.

“We would actually,” Sly says, holding his hand out. “Come.”

The vial flies out of my brother’s hand and into Sly’s.

“Give that back, that’s mine,” Septamus demands, but makes no move to step forward and get it.

“What does it do, Septamus?” I ask him calmly.

“Nothing, now give it back,” he shouts and stamps his foot.

Sly shrugs. “Okay,” and with that, he throws it at Septamus.

The vial hits him in the chest and breaks on impact, the contents covering the front of my brother from head to toe, which surprises me as that vial wasn’t that big.

“NO!” Septamus screams.

I wave my hand to cut off his screaming and throw a bubble around Septamus, not stopping what was happening to him, but stopping whatever was in that vial from coming near us. Temp and Sly have the same idea, and their magic joins mine, wrapping around him.

Something, well, a lot of somethings, starts appearing on his face.

“Are they massive boils?” Temp asks in horror.