Page 11 of Elora and the Crow

“I don’t know,” she said as hysteria made a home in her chest. “You could have… have… tapped it out with your beak in Morse code.”

He laughed loudly, his dark eyes flashing with amusement. “Do you know Morse code, little witch?”

“No, but that’s not the point,” she snapped. “I thought you were a female! The shop owner said you were a female! She said you were a witch named Lilianna.”

“She decided I was a trapped witch,” he said. “She named me Lilianna.”

Elora shoved her hands through her hair, the hysteria still thumping in time with the frantic beat of her heart. “I can’t… this isn’t happening. You can’t be a guy.”

“I am,” he said with relentless cheerfulness. “Do you need to see my dick again?”

“Jesus, no,” she said as he reached for the waistband of the too-small shorts. “Keep that thing put away. I don’t want my damn eye poked out.”

He laughed. “I will admit it’s pretty big.” He pulled the waistband out and stared at his junk. “I’ve missed you most of all, big guy.”

“Oh my God,” Elora said. “Stop talking to your giant penis!”

He let the waistband snap back against his stomach. “I know this is a shock, but I’m still me, Elora. I’m Lilianna.”

“No, you’re not. You’re… you’re some guy wearing my best friend’s pajamas talking to his penis while I have a very quiet panic attack,” she said. “I don’t even know your real name.”

“Jonah,” he said. “I’m Jonah.”

“Jonah,” she repeated.

His nostrils flared, and for a moment, the cheery amusement disappeared to be replaced by a look of hot lust that did weird things to Elora’s insides. She blinked, and the look was gone. Jonah smiled at her. “I’ve wanted to hear you call me by my real name for so long, little Elora.”

“Right,” she said.

They stared silently at each other before Jonah said. “I’m starving. Are you hungry?”

“No,” she said.

“I need to eat something - I’m going to make a sandwich. Do you want one?”

“No,” she repeated.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchen and she could hear him rattling around in there. She clutched the altar and stared at the candles she’d used for the spell last night. The spell book still sat on the altar, and there were small splatters of the flower paste she’d used on the gleaming wood. She’d have to clean that off before her grandmother came home from the old country. She hated if the altar was anything but sparkling clean.

I think the bigger problem is the man formerly known as the crow Lilianna living in your apartment. You think Helen won’t have something to say about that?

Lilianna -Jonah- was still banging around in the kitchen. He was humming a tune she didn’t know, and she stared at the spell book again as he stuck his head out the doorway, a mustard-covered knife in one big hand. “You sure I can’t make you a sandwich, Elora? It’s ham… your favourite.”

“No, thank you,” she said.

“All right.” He winked at her and disappeared back into the kitchen.

A key rattled in the lock before the front door opened, and Cece called, “Elora? You okay?”

Elora heard her hang up her jacket before she walked down the hallway to the living room. Relief crossed her face when she saw Elora standing by the altar. “Oh, thank God. I’ve been texting you for the last forty-five minutes. Why didn’t you answer? I was afraid something had gone wrong with the spell you tried last night.”

Elora stared silently at her as Cece dropped her bag on the couch. “I can’t stay long - I have to be at work by ten, but I wanted to make sure you hadn’t burned down the apartment or…”

She cocked her head, studying Elora. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

“Cece,” Elora said. “Cece, I…”

“Cece!”

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