Morina & the Switching Spell Ch. 02

Inside was a low, round table, surrounded by four high-backed and comfortable-looking red leather chairs. The chairs were empty except for a tall, muscularly lean figure sitting in the furthest chair facing the door. He was quite handsome and dressed in a royal blue RAF uniform with a light blue shirt and navy-blue tie. The insignia on the uniform identified him as an Air Chief Marshall. He looked much younger than I expected, perhaps in his early 30's, with a thick head of blond hair, every strand perfectly in place.

There were several sheaves of paper in front of him and he appeared to be in the middle of reading a file.

"Please have a seat, Captain, I'll be with you in a moment," he said, indicating the chair across from him.

"Thank you, sir," I said as I sat down. I sunk into the soft leather chair, enjoying its rich smell. Looking around, I noticed several tall bookcases along the side walls. The walls themselves were covered with 3-foot-high oak wainscotting, and the top half had what looked to be a red velvet fabric of some sort.

The room was lit with gas lamps, the glass globes were frosted and etched with an intricate design. Looking to my extreme left, I saw a British Army officer standing in the near corner, perhaps the only area of the room that was not well lit.

"Major Jackson, would you be so good as to bring in the tea caddie, please?"

I turned my head and looked at the man in the chair opposite mine, whom I assumed to be Lord Ayersdon. He was looking at the man in the corner.

"Yes, Your Lordship," the standing officer said quietly and left through the door from which I had just come.

"Between the traffic and the weather, I thought you could do with a spot of tea, even though it is now quarter past the hour. Unless, of course, you would like something stronger. Sherry? Brandy, if it's not too early for you?" the Lord and Chief Marshall asked.

"The tea would be fine, thank you, sir- I mean Your Lordship," I responded.

"Jackson should be back momentarily. Until then, please allow me to finish this file and we can discuss our business over tea," he said as he buried his head back into the file on his lap.

Without anything else to do, I took another look around the room. The books in the bookcases all had leather bindings and appeared to have been first-print editions, although I couldn't tell for certain without opening them. The closest bookcase appeared to contain books on military weaponry, tactics, and training. Two shelves alone were devoted to naval operations.

Another bookcase seemed to be devoted to government and government functioning. A farther bookcase contained books on economics and monetary policies.

A small click and the rattling of fine China behind me brought my attention to the door. I started to rise until Lord Ayresdon said, "Remain seated, Captain."

Major Jackson came in, lifting a wheeled tea caddie across the coaming before setting it down on the carpeting and wheeling it close to the table.

"I hope you don't mind Darjeeling, Captain. It's a favorite of mine and a break from the Earl Grey that seems to be preferred by most of the members here," His Lordship said, putting down his file.

The Major poured tea into two of the bone China cups and served one first to Lord Ayersdon and then to me. I studied his face to see how he felt serving tea to a mere captain, but his impassive expression gave no sign of emotion.

He next set a small platter of cookies on the table before standing at attention to await further orders.

"Thank you, Jackson, you may go. I'll call you when I need you," Lord Ayersdon said dismissively.

He watched the Major leave before turning to me.

"Help yourself to a biscuit, Captain. They're made on the premises, and I believe they're still warm," he said, lifting the plate towards me.

I began to reach for a "biscuit," but then I remembered Agatha's lesson about being careful about what I ate or drank. Despite having no lunch and feeling hungry, I pulled my hand back.

"No, thank you, Your Lordship," I said.

Lord Ayersdon studied me carefully with his pale blue eyes. Then he broke out into a smile.

"Miss Brewster has trained you well, I see," he chuckled slightly. "Excellent! But I assure you, Captain, these biscuits are quite safe... and delicious!"

He reached for a cookie and took a bite of one.

After watching him eat and swallow, I reached for a cookie and held it in my hand. Lord Ayersdon picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.

"I'm afraid it cooled a bit more than I like, but I think you'll find it acceptable, still," he said, watching me.

I got the impression that he guessed I wouldn't try the tea or the cookie unless I saw him eat them first.

I picked up the tea and took a sip. It was very hot! If this had "cooled a bit more than his liking," then his Lordship must breathe fire. I took a bite of the cookie; it was still warm and flavored with lemon and poppyseed.

"It's safe to show yourself to me now, Captain. I assure you, we are alone," Lord Ayersdon said, and to underscore his statement, two four-inch bony warlock horns appeared on either side of his forehead.

After I displayed my three-inch warlock horns, he smiled.

"When Miss Brewster told me she had recruited you into the CIM, I was skeptical at first, but your cautiousness has reaffirmed my trust in her judgment. It's also reassuring to have an ally from the magical community in America join us in our fight against the Nazis," he said.

"Thank you, sir-- Your Lordship. I'll do the best I can," I replied.

"I have no reason to believe there are any American warlocks working for the Jerries at Ashford, but there are quite a few German names on the personnel roster," he said, glancing down at the files on the table. "But it would be good to have someone like yourself available for keeping an eye on anyone or anything suspicious."

"Yes, sir, Your Lordship, but Miss Brewster also wanted me to keep an eye on the RAF pilots and personnel at Ashford. I believe that's why she set up this meeting with you," I commented.

"Yes, of course," Lord Ayersdon said, non committally. "She's particularly concerned about Squadron Leader Porter. I'm sure she would appreciate your assistance should she be in over her head with him."

"How much can you tell me about him, Your Lordship? I haven't had much contact with him so far, but he seems quite a stickler for regulations and details," I said.

"He's always been a stickler for details. I don't think he can help himself," he replied.

"Do you know him, Your Lordship?" I asked.

"We flew together at Dieppe," Lord Ayersdon recalled, "I lost sight of him shortly before we were ambushed by the Luftwaffe. There were only three of us who escaped that day. I always thought his escape was suspicious. I wrote it off to his warlock powers, but I can't rule out the possibility that he was working with the Nazis."

"Have you had a chance to interrogate him?" I asked.

Lord Ayersdon looked at me sharply, before relaxing a bit. "Of course I've had the opportunity," he said tersely, "But Nazi agents, even magical ones, seldom work alone. One of the reasons we're watching him is to find out who his accomplices are. That's also why we haven't brought him in. We're still hoping to catch him off his guard."

"I see. Besides Squadron Leader Porter, Miss Brewster wondered if there was a German agent within the magical community in London. Maybe someone higher up in the hierarchy," I proffered.

"Yes... I'm looking into that personally," he responded, "That is why it would be best if you see anything suspicious within the London magical community that you report it to no one except myself."

"Not even to Miss Brewster?" I asked.

He hesitated and appeared to be looking right through me.

"Not even to her," he said.

We spent the next half an hour working out arrangements for me to spend more time with the RAF at Ashford, writing specific orders for me to attend lectures and participate in drills. We also worked out a schedule where Lord Ayersdon would visit Ashford Airfield from time to time so that I could report my findings to him.

We were just about finished when I heard a "click" behind me. Again, I started to rise and noticed that this time, Lord Ayersdon was doing the same. I pulled in my warlock horns, but when I saw Lord Ayersdon leave his out, I pushed them out again.

"Ayersdon! What is the meaning of this? Why are you displaying your--Oh!" a gruff voice called out as I started to turn around. He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw my horns out on display.

The speaker was a man who looked to be in his mid-sixties, with a thick head of gray hair and wearing a finely tailored black suit and black necktie. He appeared to be in excellent shape despite a slight paunch. His most distinguishing feature, however, was the pair of 5-inch horns that emanated from either side of his forehead after he saw my horns.

Behind him were two other men, both dressed in finely tailored black suits with black neckties. They looked to be in their late 40's or early 50's with 4-inch warlock horns.

"Captain Spellman, may I present Lord Byron Burnham, Head of the Albion Warlock Council, Lord Thomas Waterbury, and Lord Robert Rockingham. Your Lordships, this is Captain Morley Spellman of the American Army Air Force 4-0-6 Fighter Group," Lord Ayresdon announced.

The senior warlock with the 5-inch warlock horns was still looking me over when I held out my hand to shake his. He ignored my proffered hand, but instead addressed me, "Captain Spellman, have you any idea how many American warlocks are here in England to help us fight the Jerries?"

"No, Your Lordship, I don't," I answered truthfully.

"As far as anyone knows, you are the only one," he said before breaking into a large grin. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it hard. "Thank you, we're glad you're here."

The two warlocks behind him murmured their thanks and shook my hand in succession.

"I was just finishing my meeting with Captain Spellman, Your Lordship," Lord Ayersdon explained before turning to me. "Unless there are further questions, Captain, I'm afraid I must ask you to leave. Major Jackson will be standing just behind the velvet curtain, and he can escort you to the door. Don't forget about your horns before you leave this room."

With that, I was dismissed.

Once I was outside, I noticed the rain was now down to a light drizzle. A fog was settling over the city, but it was still light enough to see across the street. The car parked directly in front of the club opened its door and Agatha Brewster stepped out, holding the door open.

"Have you been waiting here the whole time?" I asked.

"It's my job," she explained, "that's why I usually carry a book with me."

After we both got in, she turned to me.

"You must be starved. Let's go someplace where we can find something to eat," she said.

"How did you know I didn't eat inside?" I asked.

"When I saw Lord Burnham walk in with Lords Waterbury and Rockingham, I knew your meeting with Lord Ayersdon would be over. Besides, I've never heard of anyone dining there in less than two and a half hours," she replied.

"I did manage a cup of tea and a lemon-poppyseed cookie, or should I say biscuit?" I said, smiling.

"Too bad you didn't dine there. I heard the chef is excellent," she responded.

She drove through the streets of London, often taking multiple detours to avoid the remaining bomb craters, fallen debris and other ravages from four years of war. She parked down the street from a pub in East London she knew about and found an unoccupied table in a corner. The pub was noisy, and the table was in one of quieter parts of the pub, furthest away from the dart game going on.

Agatha ordered bangers and mash for the both of us. She said it was a specialty of the pub. They were delicious, maybe doubly so after eating army chow for 2 years and having only a cookie or "biscuit" since breakfast. The potatoes were creamy with plenty of butter and the sausages had just the right amount of grease that paired well with a pint of ale. I started to eat quickly before pulling myself up after seeing Agatha watching me eat.

"Sorry. I guess I'm hungrier than I thought," I said after swallowing.

"I'm surprised you can even taste the food. It doesn't seem to remain in your mouth long enough," she said, laughing.

"It's an old habit, I guess. You learn to eat quickly in the Army," I said.

Aside from the food and the weather, we didn't have too much to say over dinner. Anything we had in common, a witch and a warlock in the military engaged in counterespionage, could hardly be expected to be topics of conversation in a noisy English pub.

It was growing dark when we emerged from the pub and too late to make the hour-plus drive in the dark back to Ashford, especially since the darkness and the slick roads would most likely add at least another hour.

"Looks like you'll be spending the night in London," Agatha said looking up at the sky.

"Did you have a place in mind?" I asked.

"I think you'll find it suitable," she replied, flatly.

She drove to a nearby apartment building. The neighborhood was still in shambles, but a few of the buildings were left standing, having escaped enough of the bombs and destructive fires that followed to allow them to be repaired and habitable again.

"Here we are," she announced after parking the car.

"Where's here?" I asked.

"We're still in East London," she replied.

She had me follow her into the building and up to the second floor.

"My flat is here," she said, stopping outside the door with the number 22 on it.

"Wait a minute. You want me to sleep here? In your flat?" I asked.

"Why not? It's safe and there's a sofa you can sleep on. That has to be more comfortable than on the ground in pup tents," she replied, putting her key in the lock.

"I thought you said you didn't want us to get too close. Spending the night in your flat seems pretty close to me," I pointed out.

"Please don't get the wrong idea, Lee. We may be in the same room, but we're not going to be in the same bed," she said as she swung the door open.

"Who aren't you sharing your bed with, Aggie?... Oh, he's cute!" The short redhead said from inside the room. The "cute" remark was made when she saw me follow Agatha into the room.

"Lee, this is my flat mate, Amanda. Mandy, this is Captain Morley Spellman," Agatha announced.

I stepped forward and extended my hand.

"Please call me Lee, Miss..." my voice trailed.

I was unable to finish my sentence for several reasons. First, I didn't know her last name. Second and most likely because she was incredibly cute.

"Amanda Chanter. But please call me Mandy," she said, shaking my proffered hand. Her smile was infectious and seemed to light up the room. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lee."

Most men focus on certain physical aspects of a woman. Maybe it's her hair, her face, her breasts, her ass, or her legs. For me, it's her poise, her self-confidence, and the way she carries herself. Amanda checked all those boxes for me.

"I think the pleasure is mine," I replied, feeling very awkward.

Her curly, copper-red hair swept down past her shoulders. Her green eyes were a shade lighter than mine, and her face was soft and oval, with a constellation of freckles running across her upper cheeks and across her nose.

She was wearing a white camisole that was tented in the front from her small breasts and perky nipples. The silky fabric extended to just below her hips and the deeper white of her triangular panties could barely be discerned near the bottom half of the camisole.

"Aggie, is this that pilot you've been ga-ga about for the last two weeks?" Amanda asked.

"Mandy! I'm not ga-ga," Agatha replied, with an anxious tone in her voice. She was blushing.

"I think he's even more handsome than you described. I think you're crazy not to sleep with him," Amanda continued.

"Mandy, please. Lee--I mean Captain Spellman just needs a place to sleep for tonight. I have to take him back to Ashford early tomorrow morning," Agatha replied. She was obviously flustered.

"Maybe I shouldn't be hearing this. Perhaps I should find somewhere else to sleep tonight," I said.

"Don't pay attention to Mandy, Lee. She likes to push things, especially when it comes to men. Give us a few minutes to sort this out," she replied before addressing Amanda, "We talked about the possibility of Lee needing a place to sleep tonight and we both agreed that it this would be the safest place in London."

"That's true, but we never agreed about sleeping arrangements," Amanda said to me, playfully covering her camisole-covered breasts with her hands and smiling coyly. "Aggie's been such a bitch ever since she put her relationship on hold with Nigel Porter. I think she needs a good fucking to set her straight and I think you're just the right man for the job. But if she doesn't want you in her bed, you can join me in mine."

"Perhaps this would be a good time for me to use the bathroom. I could also use a shower about now," I suggested.

"The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Here's a bar of soap and a towel to take with you, but try not to use all the hot water," Agatha said.

"That won't be a problem," I said as I looked at Mandy's nipples poking against the front of her camisole, "I'm only going to use the cold water."

I heard them giggling softly behind me as I left the room, closing the door behind me.

I hadn't had a hot shower ever since I joined the Army, so taking a cold shower was no big deal. What made this shower different was the fact that I had a hot water option.

I purposely took my time in the bathroom. It gave me a chance to think about the events of the day, my meeting with Lord Ayersdon and the other warlocks of the AWC. I also wanted to give Agatha and Mandy some time and space to work things out between themselves.

Both witches were beautiful and after two years in the Army, the possibility of sleeping with either of them was so enticing that even the cold water or the shower couldn't fully dampen my erection. Between the two, Agatha was taller, and rounder with her larger breasts and hips; but I was drawn more to Amanda's lither and more athletic look. Her curly copper-red hair only added to her overall charm.

Mandy revealed a lot about the emotional turmoil Agatha must be suffering. She had been in a serious relationship with Nigel Porter, but now that there is a strong possibility that he may be a Nazi spy, she's had to hold her emotions in check while still keeping in close contact with him. I couldn't imagine what she must be going through emotionally.

After toweling off, I put on my boxers and tee shirt and covered my hips with the towel as I walked back to the flat. When I knocked on the door, Agatha had a towel in her hand and asked for the soap.

"My turn," she said, walking past me to the bathroom.

Inside, Mandy was sitting on the sofa and beckoned me over. Once I was seated, she grabbed my hands and held them in hers.

"Do you fancy Aggie?" she asked, looking me in the eye.

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"Come on. It's a simple question really. Do you fancy her?" she asked again.

"If you're asking if I find her attractive, the answer is yes, but--" I began.

"Good, because what I said before is true. She's been mopey and bitchy ever since she found out that Nigel Porter is a spy, or at least we think he is. She fancies you, but she doesn't want to get involved because she doesn't want to get burned again," Mandy said.

"I can see that; she's asked me not to get too close to her. I don't want to hurt her either," I replied.

"Good, because if you ever do hurt her, I'm coming after you. But right now, she needs a good mind-blowing fucking. Do you think you can do it?" she asked.