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Augustus stopped chewing, his mind conjuring all sorts of inappropriate images. As if his dreams weren't bad enough. "You know me, Flynn. It was all business."
"Sureit was. What was this business?"
Flynn had known Augustus a long time; he even knew a few of his more prized secrets. Augustus told him about Mara, maps, and miracles.
"It's strange, but miracles and magic are never straightforward. It could be the answer you've been looking for, so why do you look like someone has pissed in your coffee?" Flynn asked.
"The only way to test it is if I go and drink more of her tea."
"So do it."
"No, you don't understand. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. It's like she shoves her hand inside your chest and pulls all your worst nightmares out your throat. You know sharing isn't my forte," Augustus said.
It was an understatement. Augustus was known by the entire supernatural community, but Flynn was perhaps the only one he could call a friend.
"She's really gotten under your skin, hasn't she? Damn, it makes me want to meet her." Augustus glared at him. Flynn was all emerald eyes, red hair, and sensual promiscuity, and Augustus had seen firsthand how women and men reacted to him.
"Absolutely not."
"Why not? Poor love must be lonely if she's willing to drink scotch with your grumpy ass. At least I'd show her a good time, and I'm sure she wouldn't hate sprites like she hates sorcerers," Flynn teased.
"Go anywhere near her, and I'll spray the entire yard with pesticide," Augustus threatened. He expected Flynn to hiss and carry on, but instead, the sprite's smile widened.
"Oh Augustus, I can smell you've got a crush." Flynn tapped his nose, and Augustus wanted to punch him.
"I do not. This is strictly professional. As you say, she hates sorcerers."
Flynn grinned. "She hates them so much, she walked straight into your house and drank your booze while you bored her to tears about your magical fuck-ups. Sounds like her hatred lacks conviction to me."
"She has plenty of conviction, trust me." Augustus had seen a flash of mischief and warmth in her eyes, precisely one second before she had turned and bolted. It was probably for the best because he really liked her in his house, which disturbed him.
"You're the first person that's remembered her. Did you ever stop to think about how overwhelming that might be for her? Or are you only thinking about yourself?" Flynn questioned. "Besmartabout this, Augustus. It'll be worth sharing a few painful secrets with the woman if she can fix Melbourne's magic. You'd be free from it forever. You could go home to England finally. Swallow your pride and go and see her. I know you want to. Think of it as therapy. She's a saint. It's not their way to spout the secrets of others. No matter how awful they are, she's going to keep them to herself."
Augustus groaned. "I don't have a choice, and you know it. I just need to mentally prepare myself before I do."
Flynn stole a piece of his toast. "Maybe rein in those pheromones if you don't want her cat outing you."
"Don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled.
"Learn to lie better, sorcerer," Flynn called as Augustus headed upstairs to shower and get ready to be emotionally kicked by a saint.
* * *
Augustus strolled down Albert Street, enjoying the rare sunny winter day. He knew it was pointless to try and concoct another lie to tell Mara.
Still, the thought of having to bare another uncomfortable memory to her wasn't something he was looking forward to, no matter how good he might feel afterward.
This uncomfortable feeling contrasted wildly with his secret desire to see Mara herself again. He regretted that she'd left his house as soon as he'd started to relax in her presence.
As a rule, Augustus didn't go out of his way to try and make people like him or see his better side, so it disconcerted him to realize he wanted to prove to Mara that some sorcerers were worth knowing. Mara was clever, and unlike the other supernaturals in Melbourne, she wasn't afraid of him.
A long-dormant part of him also whispered in his ear that she was becoming more attractive every time he saw her, and he needed to resist doing any further study of her attributes if he wanted to be able to focus on the task at hand.
All thoughts of the way her lips curved went out of his head as the hooking sensation of the teashop's call gripped him. It burrowed under his skin and pulled him along to Swanston Street.
It was an area he generally avoided, being the territory of the Druids, but there was no fighting the call once he'd heard it.
The red door to Mara's store was wedged between two blocks of the RMIT University campus. Students walked past it without seeing it, and if they did, they didn't once question its existence.
