Witches: Wicked, Wild & Wonderful Read Online Free PDF Page A

honey, you shouldn’t stand around with your mouth open like that. Think of the flies.”
    Several guests entered in plenty of time to catch this exchange. Determined to preserve my cool, I took a gulp of the punch. It tasted fruity and made my mouth prickle, and then it hit my stomach like a firecracker. So much for cool. I choked and gasped.
    “I tried to warn you,” Silver said. “You’d better switch to champagne.” Now I knew Silver was a man, I could see that his hands and wrists were big for the rest of her—him. I could feel my face burning with punch and mortification.
    “No, thank you,” I said faintly. “Maybe some water?”
    The stout man handed me a glass. I sipped gratefully. “You’re Ophelia and Rachel’s neighbor, aren’t you?” he said. “Lovely garden. You must be proud of that asparagus bed.”
    “I was, until I saw Ophelia’s.”
    “Ooh, listen to the green-eyed monster,” Silver cooed. “Don’t be jealous, honey. Ophelia’s the best. Nobody understands plants like Ophelia.”
    “I’m not jealous,” I said with dignity. “I’m wistful. There’s a difference.”
    Then, just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, Geoff appeared, looking stunningly unprofessorial, with one side of his shirt collar turned up and his dark hair flopped over his eyes.
    “Hey, Evie. Who knew a couple of dykes would know how to throw a wedding?”
    You’d think after sixteen years of living with Geoff, I’d know whether or not he was an alcoholic. But I don’t. He doesn’t go on binges, he doesn’t get drunk at every party we go to, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t drink on the sly. What I do know is that drinking doesn’t make him more fun to be around.
    I took his arm. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I said brightly. “Too bad we have to leave.”
    “Leave? Who said anything about leaving? We just got here.”
    “Your papers,” I said. “Remember?”
    “Screw my papers,” said Geoff and held out his empty cup to Silver. “This punch is dy-no-mite.”
    “What about your students?”
    “I’ll tell ’em I didn’t feel like reading their stupid essays. That’ll fix their little red wagons. Boring as hell anyway. Fill ’er up, beautiful,” he told Silver.
    Silver considered him gravely. “Geoff, darling,” he said. “A little bird tells me that there’s an absolutely delicious argument going on in the smoking room. They’ll never forgive you if you don’t come play.”
    Geoff favored Silver with a leer that made me wish I were somewhere else. “Only if you play too,” he said. “What’s it about?”
    Silver waved a pink-tipped hand. “Something about theoretical versus practical anarchy. Right, Rodney?”
    “I believe so,” said the stout gentleman agreeably.
    A martial gleam rose in Geoff’s eye. “Let me at ’em.”
    Silver’s pale eyes turned to me, solemn and concerned. “You don’t mind, do you, honey?”
    I shrugged. With luck, the smoking-room crowd would be drunk too, and nobody would remember who said what. I just hoped none of the anarchists had a violent temper.
    “We’ll return him intact,” Silver said. “I promise.” And they were gone, Silver trailing fragrantly from Geoff’s arm.
    While I was wondering whether I’d said that thing about the anarchists or only thought it, I felt a tap on my shoulder—the stout gentleman, Rodney.
    “Mrs. Gordon, Rachel and Ophelia would like to see you and young Kimberly in the study. If you’ll please step this way?”
    His manner had shifted from wedding guest to old-fashioned butler. Properly intimidated, I trailed him to the front hall. It was empty now, except for Lucille and the young person in chartreuse lace, who were huddled together on the bench by the fireplace. The young person was talking earnestly and Lucille was listening and nodding and sipping punch. Neither of them paid any attention to us or to the music coming from behind one of the curtained doors. I saw Kim