Maxwell
“Ithinkweneed to do something about Tobias,” Maxwell said with a sigh. “I feel like an asshole, but…”
“I think you’re right,” Sean said, looking uneasy. “He’s not here for fun, is he?”
“No,” Maxwell said. “He might have a gambling problem, or he’s desperate for money. Either way, I’d hate to be a part of it. But I don’t think he’ll be pleased if I tell him he can’t come.”
“Sometimes we have to tell people things they don’t want to hear,” Sean said, accepting the glass of whiskey Maxwell had poured for him. He sniffed it appreciatively. “Glenlivet?”
“Something from the old country for you,” Maxwell grinned. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”
“I do,” Sean said, taking a sip. “None of your horrid bourbon.”
“I might need a bourbon or two before talking to Tobias,” Maxwell said, sighing again. “If it’s money he needs, I’ll offer him a loan. If it’s a gambling problem, then I’m no help.”
“Kind of you to offer, though,” Sean said. “Not very friendly, is he?”
“No.” Maxwell certainly hadn’t warmed to the farmer. “But it has to be done, anyway. Before the next poker night.”
“Is your Chloe coming again?”
“She’s not my Chloe,” Maxwell protested, but he liked how the words sounded in his mouth just the same. My Chloe.
“Oh, but I think she is,” Sean said.
“I don’t…” Maxwell shrugged. “I don’t really know how to do relationships,” he admitted. “I mean, I haven’t even wanted to, before her. But now…”
“Now you do,” Sean finished.
Maxwell made a non-committal sound. On the one hand, Sean was right. On the other, he knew that whatever he had with Chloe couldn’t last forever.
“This is all new to me,” Maxwell complained. “And after a hundred years, not much is new to me.”
Sean chuckled. “Mate, try three hundred years. I’m getting hit with new things all the time. Mobile phones, negative gearing, dirty chai lattes. The world changes all the time.”
Again, this was technically true. But Chloe wasn’t like a dirty chai latte, which sounded horrible. It was his feelings that were brand new to him.
“I thought you might be too busy for poker, now you’ve got other distractions,” Sean said, raising his eyebrows. He tugged at the sleeves of his ever-present turtleneck, covering the scars that snaked around his wrists. Maxwell still didn’t ask.
“I’ll never be too busy for poker.”
Poker was the one thing he was sure of.
“Hey, Maxwell?”
“Hi, Tilly,” Maxwell said, rubbing his eyes blearily. “What time is it?”
“One in the afternoon,” Tilly said. “Sorry to wake you, but I’ve got it worked out. The final ingredient.”
Maxwell sat up straight, no longer sleepy. “Really?”
“Yep,” Tilly sounded excited. “It’s a sacrifice.”
Maxwell’s stomach dropped. “What kind of sacrifice? Like, a chicken or something?”
Tilly laughed. “Sorry, should have worded that one better,” she said. “It’s not that kind of sacrifice. Way less messy. No, you need to sacrifice something important to you. A treasured possession. Your most treasured possession, actually.”
“My most treasured possession,” Maxwell repeated, and instantly, his hand went to his chest, fingers closing around the pocket watch that he never took off. “And it will be destroyed?”
“Afraid so,” Tilly said, sounding apologetic. “No other way to get this curse broken. But hey, at least it’s easy to get. It’s not like it’s the blood of a frog that only lives in one part of the Amazon rainforest. Could be worse!”
“I guess so,” Maxwell said, his head spinning. “So, I give you my treasured possession, and you can do the ritual?”
“Sure can!” Tilly said. “Perfect timing. The New Moon is tomorrow night.”