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apparition that was making too much sense. “Oh, get a grave.”
    “Seriously. I know Gwyneth pretty well, considering we’re roommates. She’ll understand if you just give her a chance.”
    “You forget I lived with her for a long time before you did. She has to be the belle of every ball. You even called her that, remember?”
    “So, what? Are you just going to step back and let her take over?”
    “Look, I already got a makeover. What else are you telling me to do? Change my personality?”
    “I think you’re being oversensitive.”
    “About what?” Morgaine realized she had snapped at him, but he should mind his own damn business. Sure, he was probably bored out of his mind, but he could find other ways to amuse himself besides butting into her private life… like insulting people who couldn’t hear him or listening in on the phone-sex line like he used to do.
    “About your more extroverted cousin getting the attention you crave but refuse to risk rejection for.”
    She grabbed her mortar and pestle and another handful of herbs. “Oh, great,” she muttered. “Now our spook thinks he has a degree in psychology.” She took out some of her aggression and ground the sage forcefully. It didn’t need to be turned into powder as if she wanted to cook with it. Courser herbs would do quite nicely for a spell, and she didn’t plan to cook a turkey for another month.
    Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a way to win the heart of a man with her cute, vivacious cousin around—unless she broke the Witches’ Rede and resorted to manipulation. The rules made it quite clear that forcing the feelings and behavior of others would backfire on a witch big time. And would a night of false passion be worth it?
    “I know what you’re thinking.”
    “No, you don’t.”
    “Oh, yeah? I’ll bet you believe all men think with their little heads and you’re not attractive enough to turn on a certain vampire.”
    The air rushed out of Morgaine’s emotional balloon, and she sagged against the counter. “Okay, I guess you do know what I’m thinking.”
    “So, what are you gonna do about it?”
    “What can I do? I can’t turn my cousin into an ugly hag. I can’t make Sly fall madly in love with me. Well, I could do those things, but that would be cheating.”
    “At the risk of sounding clichéd, all you need to do is be yourself.”
    “Thanks, Mom.”
    *   *   *   *
    Carrying his one cardboard box tucked under his arm, Sly unlocked and opened the door to his apartment. He took one step and halted. This was his apartment, right? He glanced back at the door and saw 1B proudly displayed in brass.
    All he’d expected to find in his place was possibly Merry’s bedroom set, but a worn leather couch, an old trunk, and an antique-looking chair were grouped around his fireplace. A braided rug covered the floor beneath the welcoming scene. Artwork, candles, vases, books… every comfort of home graced the walls and bookshelves.
    As he stood in his living room, confused, he heard snickers coming from the back of the apartment.
    “Surprise!” his friends yelled as they jumped into view.
    Merry, Morgaine, Gwyneth, Konrad, and Roz stood there grinning and laughing.
    Just then, Nathan strolled in behind him, carrying an old bird perch. At least that’s what Sly thought it was. It looked like the tall metal T-bar that a parrot would sit on.
    “Did I miss the big surprise?” Nathan asked.
    Sly smiled. “Apparently.”
    “Good. I hate those things. Here.” Nathan extended the item in his hand and set it on the floor next to him. “It’s my old perch. You can use it for a coat rack—or something.” Then he looked over toward the rest of the group. “Is there cake?”
    Merry held up a bottle of champagne. “No, only this. Sly doesn’t eat.”
    Nathan sighed. “Well, I’ll be going then. Welcome to the neighborhood, Sly.” He extended his free hand and Sly shook it.
    “Jesus, man. I’ll never get over how cold