Page 6 of Wooing the Wiccan (Elf Magic #1)

CHAPTER SIX

Raeulfr

My phone chimes with a message alert in the middle of a meeting with Brandt and Sam.

That’s not unusual—when you’re the head of a government, you need to be contactable all the time.

I glance down at the screen while Brandt continues to explain why it’s not a bad thing that his dragons have been racing human planes.

Jared’s name on the screen makes me smile, and my hand twitches with the need to check the message immediately.

“…been using distortion shields every single time, and— Raeulfr, is there something you want to share?”

I jerk my head up, startled. “What?”

Curiosity is written all over Brandt’s face, and there is nothing more dangerous than a curious dragon. “You’re smiling.”

Oh, no. “Am I not allowed to smile anymore?” I counter.

“Not when you’re about to admit it’s okay for dragons to race planes as long as they’re not seen.” He stares me down. “You’re hiding something.”

“I wasn’t going to admit that, and yes, of course I am. Just like you are. We don’t tell each other everything, Brandt. Be reasonable.” I try to sound exasperated.

“If we could get back to the matter at hand,” Sam suggests, but it’s too late. Brandt’s been distracted.

“Who was that message from? The one that made you smile?” he demands. “Tell me or I’ll tell Cecy that you ate her cake.”

Sam and I exchange confused looks. “What cake?” Sam asks.

Brandt waves his hand dismissively. “Kethe saved her a piece of cake and someone ate it. She’s been on a rampage ever since. Who sent the message?”

“Cecy was on a rampage? I don’t think you have the right word.” I shake my head. “She’s more likely to use tears than destruction.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.” Brandt stands and leans across the table toward me, planting his palms on the surface. “I must know who sent that message!”

“You’re the one who brought Cecy into this,” I argue. I’m actually enjoying myself, which is a surprise. “The message was from one of my viceroys in Europe. She’s expecting her first child. Is that not reason enough for me to smile?” I did get that message, but it was yesterday.

Brandt straightens and collapses back into his chair. “Oh. That’s nice—please pass my congratulations to her. But seriously, Raeulfr, why couldn’t it have been something truly interesting? Even a funny joke would have been welcome.”

“This is going to be another meeting where we don’t stick to the agenda, isn’t it?” Sam muses. I shoot him a commiserating smile. We’re both used to Brandt’s idiosyncrasies, but somehow they still always manage to take us by surprise. Dragons are good at that.

“You’re mostly the person who sends me funny jokes,” I point out. “But if it will make you happy, I can ask my team to source some for the next meeting.”

He rolls his eyes and pouts as only a thirty-thousand-year-old dragon can. “That takes all the fun out of it. How can we have been friends this long without you having learned how to be fun?”

“I feel like I should stand up for those of us who are fun, but just not on a dragon or hellhound level,” Sam says.

“Thank you. Alistair still being Alistair?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“I’m used to it.”

“Why are you both changing the subject?” Brandt demands. “We were talking about how to make Raeulfr’s life more interesting!”

I blink. “We most certainly were not , thank you very much. My life is just fine. But now you need to finish telling us about Cecy’s rampage, because I refuse to believe that precious baby actually rampaged.”

“Me too,” Sam agrees. “Last time I saw her, she offered me a kiss if I’d give her the ornamental letter opener from my desk. I said no, because it might not be sharp but it’s still not toddler safe, and she gave me big sad eyes and a quivery lower lip.”

I chuckle knowingly. “You surrendered immediately, didn’t you?” It’s hard to say no to Cecy’s sad face.

“We compromised,” Sam informs us loftily. “She could look at and touch it, but only while I was holding it.”

Brandt slow claps. “Well done. Not many people can hold out against her even that much.”

“So… rampage?” I prompt, and he sighs.

“You’re right, it’s not exactly a destructive rampage. She’s just refusing to talk to anyone or play with anyone and keeps giving us the sad face. Sophie thinks she’s torturing us all until her betrayer—whoever ate the cake—reveals themselves and makes it up to her.”

I tip my head to one side. “Why do you sound proud?”

His smile breaks free. “Don’t tell Percy, but I am . She’s so clever. If she can keep this up, she’ll get her way. Steffen’s already promised to set up security cameras around the fridge so this can never happen again.” He shakes his head admiringly. “She’s got him wrapped around her baby claws.”

Knowing Steffen, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. I return my attention to the question looming large in my mind. “You ate the cake, didn’t you?”

Brandt gasps. “How could you accuse me of such a thing?”

Sam sighs. “He ate the cake.”

“You should be ashamed,” I chide. “Stealing cake from your toddler daughter—and then making everyone in the house live through your punishment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I grin. “Wait until I tell Steffen.”

The wingleader of all dragons begins to sputter, and I sit back, satisfied that he’ll never even remember the way I smiled about a text message.

Not that it would really have mattered if I told Brandt and Sam that it was from Jared…

and who Jared is. It’s not like it’s a secret that I had tea with one of the humans learning to use magic—my whole security team knows, thanks to Ari.

They don’t know about the text messages, though. It’s been five days since Jared and I met, and not a single one has passed without us texting each other.

First, he sent me the contact information for his silversmith, and I replied with a thank-you.

The next morning, I impulsively sent a message to say I hoped his students didn’t get into any more paint.

It took off from there, and we’ve been chatting about books, plants, magic, and things that happen at work (his work stories are much better than mine, possibly because I can’t tell him the really good ones).

Last night he called me to say he’d over-ordered Dahlia tubers, and did I want some?

I said of course, and then we talked for an hour about… stuff.

It's been a long time since I was able to talk so easily with someone I barely know.

I tune back into the conversation to find that Sam has soothed Brandt’s indignation and is insisting that Brandt will definitely have to stop the plane races before an accident happens.

“Even the most careful dragon can’t be sure that the wind won’t knock the plane sideways—or that the pilot is a good one,” he’s saying.

I bite back a smile at the way he avoids adding that the very, very few “careful” dragons who exist would never race a plane anyway.

Once I’m back in my office with the door closed, I finally unlock my phone and read the message.

Jared:

I forgot to ask last night when you want to collect the tubers. Or I can bring them to you? Whatever’s easiest.

Yes! I can see him again. I start typing a reply—whenever he wants—but then stop.

He can’t bring them to me. At home, I’d need to find a way to explain the bodyguard on duty—not to mention listen to said bodyguard’s lecture about inviting strange humans into my home—and we try not to invite humans to the office without scheduling a time with security and sending out a mass email to all staff beforehand, warning them not to do anything that might give us away.

I can’t do that just so Jared can drop off some tubers.

The questions I’d face would be horrific.

I drum my fingers on the surface of my desk. I could pick the tubers up from him, but it’s unlikely that anyone on the security team is going to be happy about me going to his house, especially since I’d make them wait outside… a block away.

Raeulfr:

I can work around your schedule. Another visit to the bookstore?

I want to suggest lunch or dinner, but I’m trying to ease my security into the idea of Jared being in my life.

I’m trying to ease me into the idea of Jared being in my life. Am I really thinking about doing this? Could Jared be interested in me that way, and could something come of it? It’s been so long since I was in a relationship that I’m not sure I remember how to be in one.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance at the screen.

Jared:

Perfect. Does tomorrow afternoon at four work?

I’ll make it work. I send back an affirmative, hesitate, then add:

Could I call you later? My colleague told me a story about his toddler today that I think will both horrify and amuse you.

Perhaps I should feel some sort of moral quandary about using Cecy as an excuse to get closer to a man, but I don’t. It’s just a story, after all.

Jared:

Haha most toddler stories are like that! Can’t wait to hear it. Talk to you later x

My breath catches as I stare at that x. I’ve lived on Earth for well over a decade, and I’ve embraced as many aspects of modern technology as I can. I know an x means a kiss.

But I also know that it’s not always used to mean a kiss . Is this a “friendly air-kiss to end the conversation” x, or is it Jared’s way of signaling that he’s interested in more? I need more information.

Ten minutes on Google isn’t helpful. The internet is vastly divided on this subject, and context seems to be the key factor.

I need a personal consult with someone who’s dated more recently than me, and more importantly, who’s familiar with these Earth rituals.

Brandt, maybe? Or better yet, Percy… though as I understand it, he was single for decades before he met Brandt.

And neither one of them would give an opinion without asking a dozen or so questions.

Picking up my office handset, I dial a three-digit code.

“Reception, this is Dáithí.” He sounds distracted, and I begin to second-guess this action.

“Dáithí, it’s Raeulfr. Is this a bad time?”

“Of course not, Your Majesty. I was just typing an email warning people not to order any more singing telegrams unless they want to feel my wrath.”

He… “What?”

“Just something the dragons have been doing to amuse their very tiny minds, sir. They write the song lyrics themselves, and none of them have any talent. What can I help you with?”

I make a mental note to bring this up with Brandt. Hopefully he’s not participating. “It’s not important. I’ve received a text message from a… friend. Er… a friendly acquaintance. I mean?—”

“Someone you’ve been flirting with. Go on.”

We really don’t pay him enough. “This is strictly confidential, Dáithí. I haven’t decided yet if I want to pursue things. Nobody knows I’m considering it.”

He pauses. “Not even Eoin?”

I knew that would get his attention. I’m not certain what’s going on between the two of them—enemies, lovers, something in between—but it’s been amusing the office for some time now, and Dáithí never hesitates to get one up on Eoin.

“Not even him. The security team knows about this man’s existence, but that’s all.”

“They won’t hear anything more from me.” His glee makes me smile.

“Thank you. As I said, it’s not important. I just want to be certain I’m interpreting something in this message correctly. He said ‘talk to you later’ and then ended it with an x.”

“An x like a?—”

“Yes. Is that… Do you think that might mean something? Or is he just signing off?”

Dáithí makes a humming sound. “Honestly, it could go either way, but if I had to choose, I’d say he meant something. Have you been texting a lot? Flirting?”

I consider. “We met five days ago and have texted every day since. I’m not sure if we’re flirting, exactly.”

“Every day? Is he someone you need to be in contact with for work?”

“No.”

His delighted laugh is the answer to my question. “He’s into you, sir. If you’ve been texting every day and he’s signing off with a kiss, he’s trying to send you signals.”

“You’re sure?” Hope and insecurity war inside me.

“As sure as I can be with what I know. Let’s face it, you’re hot, kind, and nice to talk to. He’d be an idiot not to be interested.”

Heat flushes my face. “That’s… uh…”

“Don’t get shy, sir. Start planning your move. I want to hear all the details when you two hook up!”

I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but, “You’ll be the first to know.”