“Love or magic,” warned Grandma Hecate, handing over her familys brew of witchcraft to her granddaughter, Morgana Hawthorne.Powers a fine thing, lovebug, but everything has its price. Thats why witches never get a happy ending in romance she cackled.
Morgana tucked those words into her mind like a talisman. And, as it turned out, men simply couldnt stay in orbit long enough to be anything more than fleeting comets. Some drank too much, some thought they were the bees knees, some drove her so mad she wanted to turn them into a toad, and a few were downright stubborn without any need for a spell.
Fed up, the hereditary witch flung her arms wide and declared, If loves a disaster, let it stay that way! To hell with all that loveydovey nonsense! She adopted a cheeky black cat, naming him Fluff.
One rainy Thursday, a ravendelivered invitation from an old academy mate, Evelyn Blackwell, caught her off guard. Morgana unfurled the ebony parchment, its curling letters a deep scarlet:
Dear Morgana, the ladies have agreed to host a familystyle dinner on Friday the 13th. Sabbaths are grand, but were not just colleagues in the occult; were good friends, and our families barely know each other. So were gathering everyone with their partners at my place. Lenny and I have been together for five years now.
Morgana blinked. Whos Lenny? she muttered, recalling barely a whisper about Evelyns love life. Daisy will bring her Frank. Brett will bring Ernest. Marion, well she cant decide between Mark or Max she mixes up the names like a stormy teapot. Come as you are, partner or not. If youre still solo, no worries, well still love you to bits.
Lovetobits? Absolutely! As if being single were a badge of honour, Morgana shrieked, half in mock outrage. How on earth had Evelyn dodged the ageold witchs curse of hopeless romance? Was it Lennys charm? Did the other three also land husbands? Or was Morgana somehow the worst of the lot? Or perhaps the best?
She dismissed the notion of lovepotions instantly. In the Academys code, using a love spell was as unprofessional as a doctor treating a stye with a pokey needle. The five proud witches had sworn off any such trickery, lest they end up with a face full of acne.
With the dinner only days away, the queue of eligible gentlemenhandsome lads eager to escort a witch to the soiréewas nowhere in sight. Yet the more Morgana thought about the gathering, the more she realised shed rather stroll in with a real bloke on her arm than saunter in alone, pretending her magical power alone could cover the lovefee.
Three days before the event, nerves got the better of her. The night before she panicked, and when the clock struck twelve, she lost the ability to think straight but gained the urge to act fast.
She surveyed the room, her gaze landing on Fluff, who was presently licking his paw with regal disdain.
No! Morgana whispered to herself. Yes! she added, retrieving an ancient incantation from memory. With a muttered chant, she transformed the cat into a man.
The newcomer stood tall, muscular, andblack as midnight.
Are you African? Morgana asked, eyebrows raised.
Will you mind if I ask why that matters? the man replied, flicking his tongue over his cheek with a disdain that only a cat could muster.
Nothing, really Wait! Whats with your voice? Morgana stammered. The mans falsetto didnt match the alphatype shed hoped to showcase.
You dont recall the dreadful day? he mused. The injections, the white walls, the bloke in the coat you called a vet the awakening He sighed.
Good, at least you dont scurry through every backalley now, Morgana muttered lazily.
Everything for your convenience. So, what do you want from me? Testing a spell again? the man asked.
Youre going to the dinner, right? Not the balljust a family dinner, Morgana blurted, her sentences tangled. Your voice needs fixing. Lets say youve caught a chill and lost it. Youll stay silent, and Ill do the talking. Ill call you Alex. Your job is to look like a smitten gentleman. Clear?
Alex only snorted, resuming his grooming. Morgana, doubting his comprehension, pressed on: And what will you do when we arrive?
I dont like strangers flats, Alex said, playing with a dangling amulet. Ill dart to the farthest room, find the coziest bed, and hide under it. Ill hiss at anyone who tries to pull me out, and if needed, Ill give a pawswing.
No, no, no! No hiding, no hissing, no pawswings! Morgana shouted, halflaughing. If you do what I ask, Ill feed you only the finest chicken livers for the rest of your nine lives.
And salmon, Alex added.
And no broken noses?
Only if I cant find the loo, Ill take someones shoes instead.
Fine, salmon it is, Morgana conceded, and a splash of valerian.
Deal! Alex declared, his eyes glittering with mischief.
Morgana whispered to Alex at the door of Evelyns cottage, Charm them, but keep quiet.
I can purr, that always works, Alex replied.
Ill cut your tail if you speak! Morgana warned, halfserious.
Humans are cruelalways wanting to chop bits off us, Alex scoffed.
She crossed her fingers for luck and pressed the doorbell. Evelyn greeted them handinhand with a tall, sleek blond gentleman. For a heartbeat, Morgana thought Alex might hiss, but he stood there, smiling innocently.
The ladies were already assembled. Daisys Frank was a buff brunette with a strikingly pale face and a wellshaped physique, though he gave Morgana a slightly offkilter vibe. Bretts Ernest was a solid rockbroad, slow, and with a weighty stare. Marions partner was a nondescript bloke, alternating between Mark and Max, who gazed at his girlfriend with unwavering devotion.
Alex behaved properly, only once snagging the dangling strap of Bretts dress when she turned away, but Morgana snatched it from his paws, threatening to withhold his salmon.
The evening progressed smoothly. Alex kept silent. The friends chattered about how theyd met their men, future plans, and the usual witchy gossip. Morgana, desperate for a decent romance tale, struggled to conjure a story about how a darkhaired hero rescued her by the shore, but she was content that she wasnt the worst of the lot. By the second half of the night she was finally easing into the merrimentuntil the unexpected happened.
Alex rose from his seat.
Where are you off to? Morgana hissed into his ear.
Ive got to go, he snapped back.
Find the shoes you know which room? she demanded.
Of course, he replied, impatiently. He vanished, leaving Morgana on pins and needles. Would he mistake the loo for a wardrobe? Would he start dumping random objects into the toilet? The anxiety grew as thirty minutes passed with no sign of Alex.
She scanned the room: Daisy was tugging at Franks tie, Brett coaxed Ernest into dropping his stonecold expression, Marion listened to yet another love confession from MarkMax. Evelyn shot a displeased glance at Lenny, who was chewing on a chicken bone.
Morgana slipped away from the table. Wheres that animal? she muttered.
The animal was on the kitchen table.
Off you go! she whispered sharply. Off the table! What are you doing up there?
Theres sausage, Alex replied, grimacing and purring.
Theres sausage on your plate too! Morgana shouted.
Is that so? Mines tastier, he mewed louder.
Down, now! Dont embarrass me! she demanded, trying to wrestle him away. Alex flailed, scattering cups and plates, and landed not on four feline paws but on a humanlike backside.
Just then, Evelyn entered.
Whats this? Alex, are you alright? she asked.
Yes! Morganas panicked brain grabbed the nearest remedy. Hes having a fitjust a bit overexcited!
Evelyn fetched a small bottle from the cupboard, dabbed a spoonful onto a cup of water, and handed it to the sprawled Alex, saying, Drink, itll calm you down.
Before Morgana could stop him, Alex scooped the water, gulped it, and then chugged the entire bottle.
Valerians offlimits! Morgana remembered too late.
No! Its fine! Alex roared with an impossible voice. Now I can do anything!
He bolted, clutching a fallen beer can like a trophy.
Whats happened to him? Evelyn asked, baffled.
An allergy to valerian, Morgana muttered, darting after the rampaging felineturnedhuman.
She caught up with him in the bedroom; he sprinted up the sofa, leapt onto the curtains, tore the rod, and tumbled across the carpet. When she tried to grab him, Alex sprang up with a mischievous glint and darted toward the pantry.
Coooookie! he shouted from inside a cardboard box that had once housed a microwave, the box bulging and cracking under his weight.
Just like my cat! Daisy giggled.
Morgana could only facepalm in classic captainstyle fashion.
Is it really an allergy? Evelyn squinted.
Just give up, Alex said without pausing, Im a cat!
Blimey! Morgana muttered, recalling a spell to slip under the floorboards.
How could you? Daisy gasped.
A neutered cat, Alex retorted, sprawled in a cracked box.
Morgana Brett said sharply, and a heavy silence fell, broken only by the laugh of Daisys boyfriend, whose pale face turned an even paler shade of blue as he laughed harder and harder until
Oops, Daisys boyfriend managed, turning a ghostly white.
What’s going on? Evelyn asked, voice trembling.
Morgana stared at Alexs stillstanding, perfectly fine body, then at his twitching head on the floor.
Frank I think Ive revived him, Daisy stammered, Zombies are always a bit unreliable. His head is on one body, his torso on anotherafter the accident Im not great with stitching
Evelyn, sounding like a stern teacher, scolded, Youve betrayed our friendship! Our trust! How could you? We were all from the same academy and never cheated each other!
Ernest is a golem, Brett murmured softly.
Bright what?! Evelyns dark eyes widened. And you, Brett?!
Enough, enough, Marion shouted, Ive got to admitMark I mean Max I actually enchanted him.
A collective Ah! echoed.
Yes, I broke our oath! What else could I do? I thought you all had perfect love lives. You, Evelyn, kept bragging about Lenny. It hurt me so much
Morgana nodded. Weve all been caught, havent we?
Losers! Evelyn huffed, turning away. Lets go, Lenny.
Lenny, meanwhile, growled at the rolledup Africanlooking cat in the box.
Lenny! Evelyn shouted, the growl growing louder.
Realising Alexs human guise was no longer fitting, Morgana muttered an incantation under her breath, restoring his true form. Alex turned back into a sleek black cat. But the spell didnt stop thereLenny began shrinking, his limbs compressing, fur sprouting all over his cheeky face. In the end a tiny ginger Chihuahua barked at the bewildered cat.
Poor Lenny! Mariah burst out laughing, and everyone joined in, except Evelyn, who flushed a deep crimson.
An hour later, the witches abandoned their disastrous suitors, slunk off to the nearest pub, and joined a gaggle of five former darkarts graduates for drinks. As per old tradition, every Friday the 13th they raise a pint to the chronic misfortune of witches on the love frontcheers to bad luck, British weather, and the occasional cursed cat.
