by Cate Lawley
“Outside of my mom, you’re the exception.”
Warm fuzzy of the week. Maybe the month. Maybe more.
I sighed—on the inside, but it was a whopper of a soppy, romantic sigh. More so than Annabeth’s earlier today. I reveled in the gooey awesomeness of the feeling for a few seconds, but then I set my foot down. Time for reality to reassert itself. “We should really get rolling on sorting out a more permanent solution.”
A panicked look flashed across Don’s face. That was all the warning I had that something was amiss.
One moment he was the romantic hero of my dreams, and the next he was a piece of thoroughly bronzed, incredibly handsome art.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Don?” I stroked his cheek, rubbed his jaw, massaged his bronze biceps, patted his pecs. I did all the things, groping (almost) all the easily accessible places. Gently and respectfully, but groping was groping.
Nada.
“You can hear me, right?” I felt foolish asking and even more foolish waiting for a response. When no reply passed his lips and his eyes remained stubbornly unblinking, I put on my big-girl pants. A tush squeeze had worked before, so I had to try it.
The squishy sofa gave as I reached underneath Don to give his butt cheek a solid squeeze. I blurted my apology and quickly scrambled away. Awkward wouldn’t begin to describe how I’d feel if Don’s de-bronze happened as my fingers were still prodding his person.
But he didn’t de-bronze, and he still wasn’t blinking, winking, or talking.
This was the point at which I panicked—as in, seriously lost my marbles—because I called Cricket.
And also Annabeth. My new crush’s ex, the one who’d whammied him to begin with.
Heck, I darn near called information and asked for a direct line to Faery—because Faery was a listed number, right?
Like I said, not thinking straight.
But reinforcements were on the way, and I had a good two hours to get my head sorted out before Cricket showed up. Annabeth’s ETA was hazier, but she was on the way. She’d not only answered, she’d promised to come as soon as she could get away. I’d been a complete whackadoo on the phone, so she could have been trying to get rid of me, but she did promise.
A knock startled me from my haze of panic and regret. Those weren’t familiar emotions, and I was glad for the reprieve. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but it wasn’t a leggy blonde bombshell.
Minus a three-second delay in which I gawked and generally looked confused, I knew—just knew—this was Annabeth. Because of course Don’s ex-fiancée was a babe and a half.
She took one look at my face and crushed me in a tight hug.
Not a hugger, me. I made the occasional exception for my sister and close family, sure. But strangers? Nope.
It should be a clue how worried I was when I tell you that I clung to Don’s ex, the vengeful demon. The hug lasted longer than I’d like to admit.
But I didn’t cry, so there was that. If I wasn’t a hugger, I was even less of a crier. Besides, crying was an admission of defeat. Hugging was more about support, something I needed now...even if it was from Don’s former fiancée.
When I made motions of stepping away, she snuck in a final quick squeeze. “It’s going to be fine.”
How could she know that?
“You said your sister is coming?” She tucked a strand of perfect blonde hair behind her ear.
I hadn’t yet mastered the Texas humidity. There was a trick to not having big, frizzy hair in the land of Texas. I smacked back the jealous ninja sneaking through the back door of my brain. I would not be jealous of Annabeth.
“Yes, but she’s still almost two hours away.”
“I can pop over and retrieve her if you—”
“No!” If I had pearls, I’d be clutching them, and if my nerves frazzled any more, I’d been in a psych ward before midnight. “I called her because I needed reinforcements.” I wrinkled my nose and shot her an apologetic look. “And I didn’t think you’d actually come.”
“Ah. Michael and I had a little chat about trust, jealousy, and all the reasons he shouldn’t be concerned that I was seeing an ex-fiancé I’d never wanted to marry to begin with.” She brushed her hands together. “One boyfriend obstacle overcome.”
“So you want to help Don?” She was here, so that might seem obvious, but she had also been the one to give Don the big bronze smackdown.
Her face lit up with a brilliant smile. “I want to help you and Don. It’s so romantic. Just like the Sleeping Beauty story.”
Yeah, just like it. I shook my head, but whatever had her on board.
“Why can’t I retrieve your sister?”
“Ah. She’s driving, for one.”
Annabeth blinked. “I’ll be careful. Car accidents are no joke.”
Which reminded me of Don being all cute and concerned about having a serious conversation in the car. He hadn’t wanted to upset me while I was driving, because it wasn’t safe. The guy was a total teddy bear.
“Sorry. Much bigger issue: my sister hasn’t a clue that magic is a thing.”
“Oooh.” Annabeth frowned. “And why is that? Actually, why don’t you wait to tell me. If I promise I can get your sister here safely and unobtrusively, is that okay? Because it’s getting late, and I don’t see you getting any sleep until we’ve addressed the elephant in the room.” She hitched her thumb in Don’s direction.
“Um...” To trust a woman I’d only just met, or... Wait a second. She didn’t have to ask permission. Clearly, she had the ability to do the deed, so asking was in deference to my pearl-clutching persona. But I was no pearl-clutcher. Also, I had good instincts about people. Usually.
I took my trust in hand and offered it to her. “Yes, please. That would be great.”
She vanished. No smoke, no flashing lights, and only a whiff of brimstone tickled my nose.
Less than five minutes had passed when Annabeth walked through the front door with Cricket. A smile tugged at Annabeth’s lips. Pushing Cricket into the room ahead of her, she said, “Go on. Fess up to your sister.”
Cricket rolled her eyes. “Magic, faeries, blah, blah. I knew. I’ve known for a while.” Then her eyes narrowed, and she shot me a glare that promised retribution for my terrible sins. “How long have you known?”
Uh-oh.
“A while?” I could have smacked myself for the uptick in pitch. I’d been betrayed by my own voice.
Cricket crossed her arms and started to look tetchy.
Better to nip that in the bud before she got a full head of steam, so I quickly bounced that grenade right back at her. “How long have you known?”
She chewed on her bottom lip, a dead giveaway that I wouldn’t like the answer.
Annabeth cleared her throat. “How about you two sort out your various deceptions after we wake up the sleeping prince?”
As if a switch had been flicked, Cricket’s expression turned gooey. It was the same way she looked when she spotted a pile of puppies or a yummy, bare-chested man jogging with a stroller. (It happened more than you might think.) I knew that look meant her heartstrings were being well and truly pulled.
How had Annabeth swayed her so quickly? In less than five minutes, the demon had my sister rooting for a happily ever after between me and a man who was also a demon, whom she’d never met and therefore hadn’t yet personally vetted, and who was currently cursed by the last woman he’d been in a relationship with.
Was I such a hopeless romantic prospect that anyone would do?
“Don’t give me that look,” Cricket said snippily. “I’m allowed to be excited about a brewing romance between you and Abaddon. You haven’t shown this much interest in a man in months.”
Years, actually, but I wasn’t about to correct her.
A clanging, metal-on-metal noise had both of us pivoting toward the sofa.
Annabeth grinned and tapped her keys against Don’s shoulder again, reproducing the thin, metallic noise. “Thought t
hat might get your attention.” She tucked her keys back in her pocket. “We’re focusing on Don and de-bronzing, ladies, so concentrate.”
“Yes,” Cricket said. “Let’s focus on Don and his de-bronzing.” She flashed an oh-so-innocent look my way. “Once Annabeth realized I was in the magical know, she told me you managed to bend her curse and get Don back to the land of the living. Seems you’ve been carrying some magical woo-woo in your back pocket, sis. Don’t suppose you were going to tell me about that anytime soon.”
On that count, at least, I was guiltless. “Just found out. And to be clear, I had no idea I was fiddling with Annabeth’s curse when I copped a feel of a statue’s butt. I just did what the sign said.”
“About that.” Annabeth raised her hand. “I’d bet an early wedding date on Baba Yaga being nose-deep in this mess. No way was it the luck of the draw that you”—she pointed at me—“a curse-breaking part faery, happened to mosey by a single, recently dumped, passably attractive, cursed demon.”
My eyebrows hitched up to my hairline at her “passably attractive” comment. And that name, Baba Yaga, she’d mentioned before. Also, what was up with the weird bet? Someone had wedding on the brain. Especially interesting since she’d claimed she wasn’t even engaged.
“I smell a magical meddling rat,” Cricket said. “Someone left the sign hung around Don’s neck. I’m highly suspicious that anyone encouraging tourists and all sundry passersby to fondle your hunky guy might have ulterior motives.”
Hunky?
“Keep your eyeballs to yourself.” I shot her the glare of death.
Cricket was between boyfriends at the moment, but even so, Don wasn’t her type. At all. She liked the naughty ones, and Don was just too...nice. He was sweet and considerate.
Cricket didn’t generally go for the guy next door. My eyeballs couldn’t help a quick trip to scope the scrumptious statue. My proprietary feelings were expanding, and Don was feeling more and more like my scrumptious statue...man...or, you know, demon.
My demon. Sounded good to me.
“I’ll keep my hands to myself, but my eyeballs are gonna do what my eyeballs do.” A hint of mischief slipped in when she added, “Unless you’re calling dibs.”
The tips of my ears burned. We hadn’t called dibs on a guy since high school. Was that how far my romantic life had sunk? Hm. Yeah.
“Dibs.” I even made eye contact without flinching.
Annabeth seemed to find our sisterly bickering entertaining. Her head had swung back and forth as we chattered. Her eyes were quite large. Either she found us shocking, or she was trying not to bust a gut.
I grabbed on to the one possibility we hadn’t fully explored. “What about this Baba Yaga? Can I ask her for help? If she’s got something to do with putting Don and I in each other’s path, maybe she’d be cool with giving us a little hint about breaking the curse.”
Annabeth took a deep breath. “No.”
The finality of her reply cut off further questions, so I dodged and weaved. “Then what about me? Can I break this thing?”
“Yes,” Annabeth replied just as Cricket clapped her hands, bounced, and, with way too much energy, said, “Of course you can!”
My own private peanut gallery. Or cheerleading team. Maybe pep squad.
“How?” I threw my hands in the air. “You’re all so sure. You tell me how I do it. If I can, why haven’t I already?”
“Ah, that last one I think I can answer.” Annabeth gave me an encouraging smile. “I think you’re blocked. You have the juice, or you wouldn’t have been able to alter the curse at all.”
“And you have some idea how to get your groping little fingers on your magic and use it.” Cricket’s head went up and down like a bobblehead as she spoke. She was still way too excited. She must have been mainlining coffee all day. That, or apartment hunting had stressed her out exponentially more than expected.
“First, my fingers aren’t gropey. And second, I do not know how use my magic. Un-bronzing Don was lucky happenstance.”
Annabeth’s eyes narrowed on me with laser focus. It reminded me of the way Don had checked out my glow, with one eye closed and the other squinting. After a cursory examination, she said, “I’m telling you, you’re blocked. We just have to unblock you.”
Cricket squealed. At long last, she was getting her hippie hands on my chakra—or whatever the magic version of that was. I wasn’t sure what exactly unblocking for a part faery entailed, but it sounded more metaphysical than not. Right up Cricket’s alley.
“Fine,” I said. “Do you worst.”
Solemnly, Cricket said, “Our best, Kayla, that’s what you’ll get. We will do our most excellent best.” Then she ruined the adult act by rubbing her hands together with a maniacal smile.
Looked like I was getting a metaphysical enema. Yay.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“It’s not like an enema.” Annabeth seemed perturbed by the comparison, but I was sold on it.
“Okay,” I replied. “A colonic for my magical mojo.”
She might have growled. She definitely looked displeased. “That’s basically the same thing.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. I was about as keen on having my magical juices flushed as she was on the unflattering comparison.
The plan was simple, if not easy. She was going to quiz me on several aspects of my life, and then read any changes in my magic. Once the cause was determined—because that would be easy-peasy; not like there were an almost infinite number of questions to ask—we cleared the pesky problem.
“Cleared the problem.” That was exactly how Annabeth had phrased it. Like my personal and magical issues were as easy to flush as a house’s sewer line.
Hence the enema analogy.
“I haven’t done it before,” Annabeth said, inspiring the greatest of confidence in me. “Don’t look so worried. A buddy of mine used to do it in college as a kind of parlor trick, and I paid close attention. Ready?”
Cricket raised her hand. She vibrated with energy. “I want to ask the first question.”
“Uh, no. That’s not how this deal works, Ms. Nosy.” Just what I needed: my sis asking me probing personal questions. Especially when I hadn’t given her the scoop on Grandpa Tom.
“Hey, do you want your guy un-bronzed?” When I nodded, she said, “Then suck it up. Don un-bronzed makes for a romantic tale. Don bronzed forever after just kinda sucks.”
Good to see her motivation was coming from a good place. I sighed. “Shoot.”
“Grandpa Tom.”
I blinked when my eyeballs started to sting. That wasn’t a question, so I wasn’t answering.
Cricket crossed her arms. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Yoo-hoo,” Annabeth said. “Third-party, non-familial stranger here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cricket’s blue eyes drilled into mine. “Kayla holds a grudge like a honey badger, and she thinks Grandpa Tom is a sleazebag. And since she’s not the most trusting of people, she’s generalized what she believes to be Grandpa Tom’s bad behavior and colored all men with her very flawed man-hater brush.”
Sometimes I really didn’t give Cricket enough credit. Her fluttery personality could be easily mistaken for flaky. Big mistake. I’d underestimated her, but to be fair, it was difficult to remember exactly how clever she was when she acted like the offspring of an Energizer Bunny on uppers and a kangaroo with an excessively positive attitude: cute, bubbly, unexpectedly bouncy, and with energy to spare and a wicked right hook.
“Whatever. I’m no man hater.” I wasn’t. I just hated lying, cheating, sleazy men. Which might be a lot of the male gender. Okay, that wasn’t remotely accurate, and I did actually know that. Case in point, Don wasn’t a lying, cheating sleazeball...so far as I knew.
“Bingo,” Annabeth hollered. “We have a winner.”
Hands on hips, I turned to Annabeth and gave her my most skeptical, you-are-so-full-of-it look. “With the first questi
on. Riiight.”
Cricket smirked. “I’m awesome. And I know you.”
Annabeth nodded. “She does. Obviously.”
To sulk or to accept? A grown-up would probably embrace her faults and work to fix them. I wasn’t feeling so terribly grown up right now. “Grandpa Tom did the deed. We’re here, and we’re not human.”
Cricket didn’t poke at my raw spots. She didn’t tell me that was so last century. She didn’t even point out the obvious: I was crushing on a guy I trusted, ergo, not all men were untrustworthy.
What she did was hug me and tell me she was sorry.
Sorry I’d had to deal with the knowledge of our faery connection alone. Sorry I’d been confronted with an ugly truth when I was probably too young to understand the bigger picture. Sorry I’d allowed that one event to color my interactions with our grandparents and men in general.
Finally, she whispered in my ear, “You don’t know the whole story.”
I sniffled. Not that I was crying, because I wasn’t a crier. “And you do?”
She rubbed my back. “Yeah, honey, I do.”
I could have asked her to tell me Grandpa Tom’s story. To make it all better with excuses, or at least explanations, but that didn’t seem like the right answer.
Grandpa Tom’s story belonged to him. And Grandmama. And even, to some extent, to Amarillis. But it didn’t belong to me. I had my own story, my own life to live. Don’s still form drew my eye, and I couldn’t help but smile at him. He really was gorgeous and wonderful and lovely.
I had my own grand romance to embrace, even if it wasn’t quite the Sleeping Beauty fairytale that Cricket imagined.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Annabeth said. “My fiancé has a gnat’s worth of patience, and I figure we have another five minutes or so before he turns up and demands satisfaction from Don.” She rubbed her temple. “Who knows where a duel with a motivated leprechaun could end? Texas as an independent nation? Two years of winter in the desert? An alien invasion, walking cacti, talking dogs...who knows?”
That had taken a turn into left field fast. From the sound of it, I wasn’t in a proper state of mind (if I ever would be) for a leprechaun visitation. “How do I do this? I’m guessing I’m unblocked?”