CHAPTER ONE

AMbrOSE

A drop of sweat trickles down my forehead, weaving its way along the sharp plane of my cheek, where I whisk it away with a wave of my hand. The sun beats down without mercy on my head and suddenly I’m envying the hats Silvia and Patience wear. Normally, they wouldn’t be caught in those dreadful black pointed witches’ hats, but they love playing it up for the silly little humans who eat it up like the fools they are.

They’re also buying up our lotions, facial creams, and spray scents so fast I’ve had to transport extras from our shop to keep up with demand.

That’s the only reason I’ve allowed my sisters to drag me along to this ridiculous festival. I’d much rather be nice and cozy at home, drinking some mulled wine, reclining on my fainting couch- no judging, it’s just shy of seven feet long, plush velvet, and purple, my absolute favorite color. I swiped it from Lord Somebody or the other in 1804 and I refuse to part with it. If I could die, then I would prefer to die on it.

Thankfully, I’m immortal so there’s no chance of me expiring and I’ll be able to enjoy my couch for centuries to come.

Thinking about the comforts of my couch and home that I’m missing adds to my ire and I contemplate ditching the girls and just teleporting back to our side of town.

“Ambrose,” Patience huffs, rolling her vivid green eyes my way. “You promised.”

Sometimes I forget that little witch can read thoughts.

“Ahhh… yes. The promise you coerced out of me. I think a vow made under duress is invalid.”

Silvia lets out a throaty giggle that draws glances of appreciation from all the men within a ten-feet radius. The girlfriends of those men aren’t as appreciative of Silvia’s giggle or her bountiful curves that are practically popping out of the figure-hugging black dress she’s wearing. Another of the girls’ bit of fun, dressing up for these little festivals. They get off on playing the part of a witch to these unsuspecting humans. The joke being they really are witches.

As a warlock, I deem such things beneath me. Being dragged along to help is the only thing I’ve agreed to. I refuse to dress up or play along.

“Oh Ambrose, stop being such a stick in the mud.”

Patience elbows our younger sister. “Or perhaps it’s the stick that he should be removing from his ass that’s the issue.”

Uttering a rude sound in my throat, I leave my younger sisters to deal with their customers and stomp my way into the back of our tent and conceal myself in the darkness.

This entire fair business is absurd. We don’t need money. Not only do we come from a long line of well-known witches and warlocks that were ridiculously prosperous, but the town where we reside is vampire funded, making money useless. Everything is fully taken care of, leaving nobody wanting for anything. Besides, with our powers, we can conjure up whatever we wish, anyway.

Frankly, it gets rather boring.

Daily life has gotten mundane and lacks the excitement of the olden days. My lips twist into a pleased sneer, remembering the good old days when I could smite my enemies by dissolving them or at least turning them into toads or mice.

My sneer falls into a pout of pity. Those days are long gone, as are all my enemies. The closest I have to one now is the werewolf whose fur turned blue due to a reaction between the fur softener he bought in our shop, Trice Adored, and some cheap shampoo he purchased who knows where.

Lesson learned. Don’t trust bargain discount items from the human world. Sadly, the wolf didn’t see it that way and I had to urge him to get his smelly blue self out of my shop with several zaps of magic.

My silver eyes flash as I grin. That was indeed a fun day.

“We need more hand cream,” Silvia snaps.

My grin drops. This isn’t fun at all.

Dutifully, I do as my sister demands and trudge up back to the front with several small jars of hand cream.

The two women standing with my sister raise their brows at the sight of me and a hum of their interest buzzes through the air and snakes around me.

Which I ignore as easily as I would a pesky fly.

They don’t interest me in the slightest.

Oh perhaps I could dally with them, instead of waiting for my soul mate. Yet what are a few hours of pleasures of the flesh when it would do nothing to touch the years of loneliness of the soul that has been my entire existence and will continue to be for the untold future?

I’ve finally accepted that I do not have a soul mate after hundreds of years of using every finder spell I could conjure up. Not to mention that degrading time I begged a seer to direct me to my one true love. She took off with my bag of gold and left me a useless note with some gibberish on that did nothing to help me and only sunk me further into a depression that caused me to miss most of the nineteen-hundreds.

My own sister Patience found her soul mate when she was barely ninety! Where is the fairness in that when I’m past my four hundredth year?

“I need to clear my mind,” I snarl, shouldering my way out of the seller’s tent.

Except this environment can’t possibly give me peace as I’m surrounded by loud, obnoxious humans in every shape and gender, and all of them seem determined to block my path or assault my ears with their loud braying chatter.

Unable to stand this a moment longer, I shield myself in a soundproof bubble and immediately my steps lighten. I’m still not any happier to be here when I could be home, but the fresh air is invigorating. And I must admit now that I’m moving about, the sun doesn’t feel nearly as oppressive. It actually feels, dare I say it? Good.

Breathing deeply, I’m reminded that though I might be centuries old, there is still a lot of life and living yet that I want to be doing. Perhaps it’s time I step away from the shop and my sisters for a few decades and see more of the world again. Being surrounded by monsters, undead and reanimated, has made me too comfortable and far too much of a homebody.

I stop and nod briskly.

Yes, I’ll spread my metaphorical wings and put the spring back in my step and regain my zest for the glorious life I lead. After all, who wouldn’t want to be a powerful and immortal warlock such as myself? I don’t need a soul mate to complete me, I just need a change of scenery and to remind myself who I am.