small stage with a table covered by shimmering golden cloth. They were really pulling out all the stops for drama, building the anticipation, and I was loving every second of it.
The lights dimmed and two women walked out onto the stage and were hit by a spotlight. They were mirror images of each other, though with different-colored hair. They smiled at the crowd and picked up microphones. The blonde spoke: “Welcome, everyone, to our home.” She swept an arm gracefully to include the whole room. “I’m Pam.”
The redhead brought her mic to her mouth. “And I’m Sam. And we’re—”
“The Darby Twins.” They said the words together and everyone applauded. Pam lowered her mic and Sam kept talking. “You’ve been invited here tonight to share our excitement as we unveil a wine that’s the first of its kind in the world. You’re the very sort of connoisseurs who will most appreciate Witches’ Brew.”
What the—? First of its kind? Did they come up with a new variety of grape? There aren’t many different kinds of wine out there. I heard others asking the same questions in quiet voices that were barely audible. The scent of all of the expensive perfume and cologne was making me a little woozy in the closely packed room, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the sisters.
Pam picked up the story: “Sam and I come from a magical background. Our mother is a witch; and our father, a mage. The energy of the earth has filled our lives and we wanted to share that magic with you. We tried to figure out some way to make what we experienced available to others, and after long experiments and tests we discovered that we could actually infuse magic into the very soil where our vines grew … and that the grapes could absorb it.”
The whispering stopped dead.
“Excuse me?” A slender man with snow-white hair in the front row raised a hand. “Did you say there’s
Sam laughed easily, with no discomfort at all in her body language. “Oh, it’s very legal, and we can assure you there has been
Wow. Just wow. A magic wine. I shared a look with Dawna. Like me, she was now more excited to taste the wine than ever.
Pam picked up the mic again. “And now we’d like to introduce the man behind the magic. We searched long and hard to find someone who exemplified the
If I could have moved enough to faint, I would have. Wild applause filled the room until there was nothing but a roaring in my brain. I whipped around to stare at Dawna, and her sneaky smile told me exactly where our tickets came from. Creede stepped onto the stage and smiled and waved before hugging each sister. He was dressed in a traditional tux with a golden cummerbund that matched the decorations.
Not to mention the flame in his eyes. Wow.
Pam handed him her mic and he stepped over to the table. At his signal, Pam and Sam lifted the gold cloth and tossed it into the air. With a wave of Creede’s hand that would do any stage magician proud, the cloth disappeared.
Another round of applause came from the crowd, me included.
I found myself smiling. When Creede turned to the room, his eyes found mine. For a moment he seemed confused and his jaw dropped. He recovered in seconds, smiled again, and began his speech. “Thank you all for joining us here. It’s been really interesting, working with the Darby sisters in this venture. As many of you know, mages need to use their energy. We have to expend it somewhere. The more powerful the mage, the more there is to release.” I knew that from being around Bruno. My knives were part of that release. “Like many other practitioners, in the past I’ve concentrated on creating weapons for my business and the charm disk trade.” He spread his arms out with an expression of almost bliss. “But here at the vineyards, I’ve had the opportunity to give back to the very nature that provides my magic. It’s infused in the land, in the vines, and in the grapes. A little part of the magic that makes the world work is everywhere you walk. Please come forward and help yourself.” Another wave of his hand revealed long tables on each side of the room. I’d been wondering why everybody was squished together when the room seemed so much bigger. “We hope you enjoy the wine as much as the people who tasted it before you did.” He winked at the crowd and said, as an aside, whispering, with his lips right next to the microphone, “You know, the ones who gave us the gold medals in Europe.”
The tittering I heard around me said he had succeeded in ramping up the tension just a notch more. He’d never mentioned a word about this to me in all the time we’d spent together. It interested me that he would do something like wine making. I liked learning about unexpected talents in people I knew.
I tried to move forward toward the stage, but everybody else was heading for the tables and I wound up being forced in that direction. While I could have pulled on my supernatural strength and shoved my way through the crowd, it wasn’t really worth it. He’d still be there in ten minutes. So I let myself be propelled to a glass of Chablis. Dawna wound up at the other side of the room, where the goblets held Burgundy.
Two years of waiting, of reading bits of news and searching online for more information, were about to pay off. I raised the glass and inhaled deeply with both nose and mouth. The taste hit my tongue first—vanilla, chocolate, and just a hint of strawberries. But my nose picked up roses and oranges. How weird.
The glass tipped nearly of its own accord and smooth, cool liquid filled my mouth. The taste burst across my tongue—everything I’d smelled and tasted as well as some cantaloupe and fresh green grapes.
Then I heard the woman next to me, holding a glass of the very same wine, say, “Cherries with a woody overtone. It’s heavier than I expected, with more tannin, which is perfect. I normally don’t like white wines.”
I stared at my glass with furrowed brow. Were we drinking the same wine? I tapped her on the shoulder and she turned. She didn’t stare at my fangs, so I was being successful in hiding them. “I’m sorry to listen in, but I’m tasting chocolate and strawberries in mine.” I held up my glass. “Could we switch? I’m wondering if we have different varieties.”
Her elegantly painted brows rose slightly. “Interesting. I like strawberries. All right.” We traded glasses and I took a sip from the side of hers without the lipstick print. Her brow furrowed and so did mine. “It still tastes like cherries and wood.”
“No, like strawberries and chocolate.”
Other people started doing the same thing, switching glasses, and pretty soon all of us were looking confused.
Then we heard Creede’s voice over the growing noise of talking and everyone turned toward those glowing gold eyes. “And now you know what’s special about Witches’ Brew. It’s like no other wine because it’s tailored to the individual drinker. Every person will taste what he or she likes best. You can never serve a bad wine at a party again. The Pinot Noir will be perfect with shrimp or steak. The Chablis? Equally terrific with halibut or hamburgers. Always right … just like magic.”
He snapped his fingers and he and the sisters disappeared. People wanted to applaud, which is hard to do while holding wine goblets, but they managed, tapping fingernails on the glass.
The sisters made a grand entrance through the far doors, which burst open in a shower of glitter and fairy lights. They smiled and separated, moving into the room to do the meet and greet. But as much as I wanted to talk about the craft of making the wine, I wanted to do it with Creede. How had he managed the magic? I wasn’t a witch, but I loved talking about crafting. Bruno had gotten me hooked on the technique of spellcasting.
And … yeah, I wanted to thank him for the tickets.
But I didn’t see him. I looked around, through the sea of talking heads, and didn’t see his familiar golden curls. I finally got up on the stage and looked out over the crowd. But the event had spread out into multiple rooms and it could be that I was just missing him. I did see Emma and Remir, clinking glasses of blush, while Dawna was snuggling up to Latino soap star Fernando Gomez.
“Miss? Can I help you with something?”
I looked down to see a young man with an earphone and clipboard. I realized that I must look like an idiot up on the stage. “Sorry. I was looking for John Creede. He’s a…” A what, exactly? Associate? Friend? Colleague? Sort
