Mid-afternoon Bridget came out of her office and leaned a hip in the doorway. “We’re all exhausted and need to recoup our energy. Go home. That’s an order.”
Mysta didn’t argue. “Thanks, Bridget.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
Mid-afternoon sunlight filled her eyes and made her blink a few times. Tendrils of cool air tugged at her. She made her way home, hating that the mayor of the town wouldn’t allow taxis due to the cobblestone roadways and wanting to maintain a sort of old-world feel for the tourists. Every step she took jarred her already tired body and drained what little energy reserves she had.
By the time she walked through the door, she was ready to collapse into a chair or bed, whichever was closer.
The scent of ground beef sizzling made her stomach churn.
Malcolm came out of the kitchen area and gestured to two separate bouquets, one of roses and the other foxgloves. “Welcome home. Viktor stopped by twice. Left these.”
Her heart stuttered. Memories of Viktor leaving foxglove flowers for her at different places where he knew she would be came rushing back to her. Something inside of her thawed. He remembered.
“He also left this.” Malcolm handed her a small envelope.
She took it without a thought, opened it, and read it. Please allow me to pamper you with a ride and a quiet dinner set near Silverlake Waterfall. I’ll come for you at midnight. I love you, Viktor.
Any lethargy faded away. She pushed up her glasses and looked away to hide her reaction. “I’ll go call him.” She’d play it cautious for now. But she wouldn’t do it immediately. She suspected that Malcolm had given Viktor a heads-up. Well, it would only be fair to her to give Malcolm enough time to warn Viktor of what to expect. She left the kitchen area to head upstairs and clean the day’s work off of her body.
She took her time in the shower. Once she was dried off and dressed, she grabbed her cell phone and called Viktor. “Viktor, Malcolm told me about your invitation, and I’d like to say I accept.”
“Thank you for giving me a chance, Mysta. You won’t be sorry, I promise.” Enthusiasm filled Viktor’s tone. She could hear him smiling through the phone.
“Not promising you anything, but after last night…I…” she stuttered.
“Don’t say you owe me. Please, don’t make what we did some favor. Look, I have to go, but I’ll see you soon. I love you.” He hung up before she could ask him not to say those three little words.
When she came downstairs she found Lana in her living room dressed to garden. The pixie sat at the breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the living room, looking wary. Her legs swung back and forth. At two feet tall, not her full five feet one inch, she looked like a child dressed in baggy overalls and a worn and frayed white sweater and dirty work boots. Her delicate features were free of makeup. Malcolm was moving around the kitchen area as if the pixie wasn’t staring holes into him.
Mysta walked farther into the room. “Hey, Lana, what’s up?”
Lana didn’t glance at her. “There’s a hellhound in your kitchen.” Her words were clipped and tense.
“Yes, he’s a guest.” Mysta tried to use a low tone, soft and gentle, so as not to put her off.
“Hellhounds hunted my kind down during the old times, said we were tasty.” Lana folded her arms over her chest.
Malcolm stopped moving around the kitchen and turned to give Lana his full attention. “Well, you were.” Malcolm mimicked her posture, a naughty glint in his gaze. “I don’t eat pixies the way you’re implying, sweetheart.” He gave her a wink.
Mysta shook her head. “Does your eye automatically do that, or do you just think it’s cute? Lana, why don’t you go outside, and I’ll join you. I’ll bring sandwiches, and we can talk.” Worry filled her. If Malcolm couldn’t win Lana over Bridget might not help out of loyalty to Lana.
Lana gave him a once-over before she turned and flew outside, her iridescent wings fluttering so fast they were a blur.
She focused on Malcolm. “Did you—?”
“No.” Anger hardened his voice. He began chopping up some tomatoes. “I’m making tacos. I’ll put together something for you and Lana, or maybe not?”
“Yes, her name is Lana. And if you’re going to stay here you have to get along with her.” Mysta hoped that Malcolm wouldn’t screw this up.
“Lana is no problem, but I’ll make myself scarce around her. Let her adjust at her own pace. Did you talk to Bridget?” He still hadn’t twisted around to face her.
“Didn’t have time. Tomorrow, I’ll get some time with her. It’s been an exhaustive day. I’ll go change and be outside. Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re welcome. I get it, to be on the outside looking in and having to change your mind-set about things. I understand.” He scooped the cut tomatoes into a bowl and began on the lettuce.
Mysta left the house to join her friend.
Lana kneeled on the walkway on a small tarp, pruning the herbaceous border along the pathway that led up to Mysta’s front door. One of the things Bridget wanted for all of them to understand was what one another brought to the table. Each month they spent time with one other member of the business to figure out their job and to appreciate what they brought to the table.
“Hey.” Mysta called out.
“Is he staying here?” Lana jerked her head toward the house.
“Yes, for a bit. He’s a friend of Viktor’s. You’ve seen him around town? It’s a favor.”
“Why does he smell of you?” Lana didn’t look at her when she asked.
Shit! Mysta’s heart paused. She didn’t know pixies’ senses of smell were that keen.
“Not a lot but there’s a bit of your magic on him.” Lana snipped off a dead branch.
She exhaled. “He was having issues. He doesn’t have a witch or wizard to help with the excess energy dump. I helped him out.”
“He’s a familiar? Whoa, I’ve never heard of a hellhound as one before.” Lana’s eyes widened, and her wings fluttered faster. “Why wouldn’t he have one? Is it because of the black magic? If used correctly, according to you, it can be useful and only in small quantities.” Lana Polly-parroted Mysta’s own words back at her.
Heat filled her face. Bridget hadn’t agreed with her assessment at all. “I know what I said. He was cursed into becoming a familiar.”
“So it’s not ’cause he’s a flirty asshole?” Lana’s face scrunched up.
Mysta burst out laughing. “Maybe.”
Lana smirked.
“Are you scared of him?” Pixies had a good sense of people. They’d studied all humans and supernatural creatures over the centuries. They could judge who would be fun to play with, who needed a lesson, and who should be rewarded.
“No, but I’m cautious of him. There is something dangerous about him. He’s a flirt, which is cute, but it’s a defense mechanism, I think.” She tapped her chin.
“So do you think I should help him? Maybe Bridget should be involved.” She hoped Lana said yes.
“Yeah, I think he does need help. We all need aid once in a while. If it wasn’t for you and Bridget and Sera I would be stuck in servitude to someone who used my magic up and discarded me when I couldn’t work anymore.” Lana sniffled.
Mysta’s heart melted, and warmth suffused her body, buoying her emotions. Before Mysta could say something though, Lana flitted away to another grouping of herbs.
Mysta pruned the patch they had been working on and moved to where Lana was weeding a patch of lavender.
Lana grew to her regular size and walked around a bit, inspecting the plants. “Goddess, walking is annoying. I have a pebble in my shoe, and I think my arches have fallen.” She pouted and kicked a thick clump of grass.
“Your arches can’t fall just because you’ve walked a bit, lazy bones. Come on, let’s get you some tacos. Oh, and I’m going out at midnight with Viktor for a picnic, so don’t freak out if you can’t find me. Can you deal with Malcolm if he offers to hel
p?”
“Bridget gave me some sleeping potion. It knocks me out, so I don’t have the nightmares from the past, or if I do and wake up, I don’t remember. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine, and yes, if he offers I’ll give him a try.” Lana gave her a little push in the arm.
“I won’t, I promise, but I need to know.” She stopped on the porch. “If you do can Malcolm step in?”
Before Lana could respond, the door opened and a shirtless Malcolm greeted them holding a plate of tacos. “I was going to bring it out to you. Are you done already?”
“Maybe, he can if he promises to behave,” Lana called out to Mysta. She walked past Malcolm into the house, heading for the kitchen area. “And yes, we’re done. Are those pinup devils surrounded by flames on your back shoulders?” Curiosity filled her tone. Relief washed through Mysta at the question. Lana was making an effort.
“Huh?” Malcolm headed to the dining table and set the tacos down. “Um, yeah. Lost a dare.”
Mysta closed the door behind her and washed her hands at the kitchen sink, then returned to the table. Lana and Mysta took a moment to study the meal that Malcolm had prepared. The tacos sat in the center of the table, surrounded by bowls of condiments like sour cream and shredded cheddar. Salt and pepper shakers rested on both sides of the platter. Plates and silverware had already been arranged on the dining table.
“Aw, you set the table. I didn’t think hellhounds knew how to do that.” There was no teasing in Lana’s tone.
Malcolm shrugged. “Picked it up on a job, useful thing to know when in company.”
They took their seats at the table. Lana insisted on blessing the meal. “Goddess of Harvest, we thank you for this bounty that is laden before us. We offer our praises and blessings for this honor. May this meal nourish our bodies, feed our souls, and in turn allow us to honor you with our gifts. Blessed be.”
Malcolm and Mysta echoed the ending and dug in.
For the rest of dinner Malcolm regaled them with various tidbits about jobs he’d done as a hellhound before he became a familiar. Assignments that were botched, people that were lost, stories that made him look like a fool. Lana laughed at each humiliation. Even Mysta chuckled.
When they had finished eating, Malcolm cleared the table. While Lana and Mysta wiped down the table and arranged the chairs, he washed and dried the dishes and put them away.
“Thanks for the tacos,” Mysta called out.
Malcolm shrugged and got out the wet mop and pad. He went to work cleaning up the floor in the kitchen area. Mysta couldn’t complain with the direction things were going.
“I’ll say one thing,” Lana said, “at least he helps with the cleaning. He’s still a hellhound though.” She sniffed.
“Lana, don’t judge. He could be different.”
Lana crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s a hellhound. Hellhounds are trouble without saying a word.”
Mysta couldn’t find a response. She didn’t know much about his kind. “I’m going to get ready for my date with Viktor.” She headed upstairs to her room.
Lana trailed behind her. “So are you hoping you two will get back together?” A coy look spread across her face.
“We’ll see.”
“It’s okay, you know? You’re one of us, Mysta. No more having to work for your place.” Lana slipped into Mysta’s bedroom ahead of her and sat down in a chair near the window.
Mysta took a quick shower where she washed her hair. She finished, dried off, and put on a robe before returning to her bedroom and sitting at her vanity. “Yeah, but—” She continued her conversation with Lana.
“No buts. We all see how hard you work and study. You even went to the library even after Bridget gave us the night off for Samhain. So what’s the story?”
“Viktor was my first boyfriend.” Mysta shifted around on her seat. She was out of her depth here. The sensation filled her with tension. “Before I left I found a ring that made me think he wanted to marry me. It scared the crap out of me, Lana.”
Lana’s eyes grew wide. “Whoa, but why did it scare you?”
“Yeah, whoa. My whole life was prepping for becoming a familiar and helping my family. I just…the fact that he wanted to commit to me, and I wasn’t ready.” Lana started combing her hair. She tugged on a stubborn knot of curls, and Mysta winced. “Ow.”
“Sorry.” Lana kept combing.
“Anyway, I still don’t know if I’m ready. I worked so hard to get to this point. Marriage didn’t fit into my life at that time, not with my duty to my family. I’m not even sure I want to get married.” Mysta stopped talking when Lana turned on the hair dryer and dried her curls. She waited until the dryer had been shut off before she continued. “What would that do to my work with you guys? There are so many questions that I’m not sure I want the answers to.”
“You’re afraid you’ll lose it, aren’t you? That’s why you work so hard. You’re afraid that you’ll have to go back to being the Main Branch’s bitch and joke, right? I get it. But your place is assured here. You don’t have to keep trying anymore. And maybe you’re just not ready yet to ask those questions.”
Mysta winced at the mention of the Main Branch. “Yeah, they took everything, our money, our family home, our place in familiar society. My success with Bridget gives my family their honor back and my siblings the shot my mom and dad never had. But just because I have this spot doesn’t mean it will be there forever. Bridget could find another familiar who’s better than me. Maybe. I don’t know.” She didn’t want to face those queries yet.
“That’s bullshit, Mys, and you know it, but you’ll just have to figure that out on your own. So for now you can take it easy, restart something with Viktor, see where it goes, and when you’re ready, face your fears. Like tonight.” Lana winked.
She rose and went over to Mysta’s closet where she proceeded to tear the clothes off of the hangers, pausing only to examine them before discarding them.
“Lana! I don’t know about Viktor, the way I left wasn’t exactly nice. I didn’t tell him I was going, but we had an agreement, no strings, no questions so…”
“But clearly he’s still interested. Otherwise why here and why the library? Look, just go on this date, and see where it goes. Now, something for you to wear. Gotta find something cute and warm. Boots are a must of course but a dress, a nice one. Ah-ha!” She held up a teal sweater dress. “And with your leather jacket it should be cute. You can keep the boots. I’ll start picking your makeup. You go check how I did with your hair.”
Lana began putting Mysta’s clothes back. Mysta could only hope Lana would do a natural-looking makeup once she was finished. She ducked into the bathroom to peek at herself in the mirror. The curls were smooth and formed perfect spirals that framed her face in a way she’d had never been able to get right no matter how hard she tried. A wash of pleasure went through her. She felt pretty.
Mysta returned to her bedroom, ready for Lana to work her overzealous magic. She sat in front of the mirror and waited.
Lana moved into view behind her. “It’s not going to be torture, and it’s not going to be a bad thing, I promise. Now spill. Why are you doing this?”
Mysta tried to figure out what to say to Lana. “Doing what?”
Lana popped open a bottle of face lotion and squirted a bit in her palms. With gentle touches she rubbed in the moisturizer. “I think a natural look would be good for you. Trying to avoid what you really want?”
“Because…”
Lana patted Mysta’s face with a makeup pad. “You didn’t answer me.”
Mysta decided for the truth. “I want to see where this will go with him. I’m curious to see where it goes, even if I don’t think it will amount to much. I left him.”
“Okay. You deserve to be happy, Mysta. Studying and working for Bridget isn’t everything, and your siblings are set because of you, so don’t worry.” Mysta opened her mouth to reply, but Lana beat her to the punch. “Besides, sex is a great str
ess reliever. Don’t deny it. Okay, it’s clown time.”
“Lana—”
“I promise not to make you look like Pennywise, okay? Now shut your eyes.” Lana shrunk down to her miniature size of three inches.
Mysta closed her eyes. The light touch and flicker of the brushes and pads on her face didn’t hurt. If anything, it tickled, but she couldn’t tell what Lana was doing until it all stopped.
Mysta opened her eyes.
“There. Done. Turn around, and see how good I am.” Lana flew backward until she was a foot away and grew to her normal height. She stood to the side, eyes narrowed in consideration.
Mysta moved the chair around to look at herself in the mirror. Lana hadn’t done a bad job. In fact, it was perfect. Rose-colored lip gloss, nude eye shadow, and black eyeliner. Her skin tone was even and flawless. All in all a damn good job. “Thanks. It looks great.”
“Now go put on your dress, and you can wear your slouchy boots and leggings with the jacket I picked out. It’s lined to keep you warm. Okay, I’m off. I’ve got several TV shows to watch. Laters. Remember, have fun and give him a chance.” She left the room with a flutter of wings, her feet dragging over the wooden floor.
Mysta put on underwear and changed into the outfit: a green sweater dress with a low neckline, nude-colored leggings and boots, and a matching quilt-lined jacket. It was feminine, warm, and comfortable.
She opened the door to a wolf whistle. Malcolm stood there, an apple in one hand, a paring knife in the other, and a stupid grin on his face.
“What the hell? How long have you been standing there? I thought the door was closed.” She took a step back.
“Just a few seconds. You look beautiful. Viktor doesn’t stand a chance. Look, I know this will rock the boat, but I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t say this. He won’t be pushed away forever. Just hear him out.”
“Is that a threat?” Mysta crossed her arms over her chest.
“Nope, just a warning. Viktor loves you, but, he’s not as patient as he seems.” Malcolm walked past her into the room. His gaze roamed around and came back to her.
Outfoxing Mysta Page 9