by Angie Fox
“I thought I was dead,” he murmured.
“You were,” Grandma said.
“Grazed by a switch star,” I said, nipping at his delicious lips. “You’ll live.”
Grandma cleared her throat. I didn’t know if she disapproved of the public display of affection or the lie. Frankly, I didn’t care. I’d been through enough in the past twenty-four hours that I should be able to kiss this man for a week. In front of a room full of grandmas. And the Pope.
And if she questioned my little white lie, well, I had to do it. If he knew we were somehow connected, he might never let me go. He’d touched me in ways I never knew existed, but I didn’t belong in this world any more than he belonged in mine.
But I would take one more kiss.
There were at least a dozen witches and one elated terrier ready to tackle us the minute we walked out of the pilothouse. Pirate dashed for me, his nails skidding on the wooden deck.
“Lizzie! You’re here! I didn’t know if I’d see you again and I was counting the seconds you were gone. But you know I can only count to four. So I had to count one, two, three, four…” He squirmed like a puppy when I picked him up. “And then one, and two and,” he said, between licks to my hands, face and wherever else he could reach.
“Ease up, buddy. I’m here,” I told him, trying to keep hold of my dog in one hand while my other wrapped around Dimitri’s waist. He looked terrible with the bloody lab coat hanging from his frame. But he felt good. And call it wishful thinking, but I could have sworn he grew steadier with each passing minute. I didn’t think my nuzzle therapy had hurt, either. Well, except that we had to wait a few minutes before Dimitri wanted to stand up.
“Sorry it took a bit.” Frieda patted Dimitri’s arm, her bracelets clanging together. “We locked the portal here in the pilot house so it wouldn’t get away again. It likes to ring the bell.”
“It’s not alive,” I told her.
“Okay,” she said.
“Step aside!” Sidecar Bob pushed his way through the crowd around us, medical bag balanced between his knees. “I need to get a look at him,” he said, nearly running over my toes. “What happened?”
“Grazed by a switch star,” I said, yanking my foot back as he spun his wheels sideways for a better look.
“Lizzie! You didn’t!”
Thanks for reminding me about my aim.
“No. I didn’t,” I said. Which just goes to prove, first impressions die hard.
Witches crowded the main deck. I accepted some congratulations, and a horny toad from Scarlet (I didn’t ask). The riverboat’s ancient sound system blasted AC/ DC’s “Highway to Hell” as Pirate and I wandered up to the narrow deck at the front of the boat. Let Grandma have her fun. I wasn’t much for loud parties. Besides, it would be hard enough to say good-bye to this life without teasing myself with the revelry outside the pilothouse. Hopefully, Frieda had remembered to lock the door on that portal.
“Watch yourself,” I told Pirate as I crushed a Mexican food–craving spell near his tail. Lord knew what that would do to my dog.
I watched the dust from the spell flutter toward the wooden deck. It would be tough to leave this place, but I’d never made any bones about the real reason I wanted to learn about my powers. I loved my job at Happy Hands. Heck, I wanted kids of my own someday. And while running around with biker witches and griffins had done a lot for my confidence and my love life, this wasn’t the place to have a family.
Case in point, as Grandma lumbered up to me with two hands full of steak knives. “For the Beast Feast after the ceremony.” She dropped them onto the bench behind me and ignored the ones that missed and clattered to the deck.
“What ceremony?”
“The one for you.” She dug her finger into her right ear. “Dang thing’s been buzzing ever since, well, I guess I don’t have anything to bitch about, do I?”
“Need help getting ready?” Perhaps I could keep the squirrel guts out of the ceremonial goblet.
“Nah. It’s a job for the coven. I gotta round them up before they tap the keg.” She cast a wry grin my way and hitched up her belt. “I’m not good at this, so shut up and listen. I was blown away by how you handled yourself down there. Don’t get me wrong, I always knew you could do it. You’re my grandbaby for God’s sake. Anyhow, I’m proud. And your mother would be too.”
“About my mom,” I said, one eye on Pirate, who sniffed at the knives.
“Scarlet told me. I should have warned you except, damn it, I thought I had more time. I saw Vald’s plan for you while I was meditating in the Yardsaver shed back at the Red Skull. Unfortunately Vald also saw me.”
“It’s okay,” I told her. “I just wish…” What? That my mom cared about me? That she’d been brave or strong or maybe that she’d warned me before she shoved her powers onto me? “I don’t have a twin, do I?”
She considered the question. “If you do, I haven’t felt her.”
“Well that was further from the ‘no’ I’d been wanting.” If I had a twin with the same powers as me, I had to help her. Or…my stomach squinched at the thought…maybe she was better off not knowing.
“I’d suggest you lay off your mom for a while,” Grandma said. “It took more than you realize for her to come after you, regardless of what you think about her.” She tilted her head and eyed me thoughtfully. “Just know your momma loves you in her own way.”
“Okay.” I’d choose to believe that, for now.
“I meant what I said back at the Dumpster. I’m looking forward to being your grandma. Not that I’m going to be throwing chocolate-chip cookies at you. Or blowing smoke up your ass.” She dug her hands into the pockets of her rhinestone-studded skinny jeans.
“I’m going home,” I told her.
She nodded, watching the full moon. “I told Scarlet what you did, ripping your soul in half. You should have seen the look on her face.” She cleared her throat. “Here’s the thing. She thinks there’s a way to rejoin the two halves.”
I nodded, relieved. Leave it up to Scarlet.
“According to Scarlet, you have a choice. When we rejoin your soul, we can put it back together and leave your demon-slaying essence behind.”
“You’re kidding!” I wanted to kiss her. Heck, I’d have been willing to kiss Ant Eater at that moment. Talk about winning the demon slayer lottery. This was even better than learning to control my powers. I could be normal. At last.
“Think about it, Lizzie,” Grandma cautioned. “No more switch stars. No more enchanted riverboats. No more throwing giggle spells at Ant Eater.”
“No more black souls, death spells, fifth-level demon attacks.”
“No more griffins,” she said, watching the moon-flecked waves slap against the bow of the Dixie Queen.
She would have to mention that.
“Unlike your mom, you won’t have to burden anyone else with your powers.’ Course you’ll be completely cut off from the magical world.” We stood in silence for a moment. “Except that I’ll be by to visit from time to time. I mean, you are my grandbaby.”
I knew there’d be consequences. I never thought leaving would be easy. Well, maybe I did in the beginning. While I wasn’t going to run from this world, like my mom, I knew I wasn’t a part of it, like my grandma.
“Let’s do it,” I told her.
“Think about it. We won’t start the ceremony for another,” she checked her hog watch, “twenty minutes, depending on how fast it takes to steam the armadillo jowls.”
“Of course,” I told her.
I didn’t need twenty minutes to think. I’d already decided a long time ago. I mean, this is what I wanted, right? It was better than what I wanted, which was to be left alone. For good.
So why did I feel so miserable?
I’ve never liked good-byes.
Dimitri leaned against the railing on the back deck, one foot propped up on the rust-flecked metal. He would have to look sexy as all get out in worn jeans that hugged his droo
l-worthy butt and his trademark black T-shirt, drawn tight over his back. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling a bit tense.
Witches called to each other among the clanking coming from the kitchen and main dining room. Preparations for the Beast Feast were in full swing. I’d left Pirate in the middle of it, riding in Sidecar Bob’s lap and sampling everything in reach.
Dimitri’s gaze flickered over my dirty purple plaid miniskirt. “Come here, Lizzie.”
I wrapped my arms around him, ear to his chest and reveled in the thwump, tump, tump of his heart. He’d always have a part of me with him, whether he knew it or not. My chipped pink fingernails traced wicked patterns on his abs. “They send you out here too?”
“Nah. I just got off the phone with my sisters.” He burst into a wide grin. “You wouldn’t believe it, they’re—” He trailed off, lost in his pure rapture. His sisters were alive.
Dimitri shook his head, lit up from head to toe. “Diana has this horse,” he said. “She calls it her pony, but don’t be fooled—the thing’s as big as a Clydesdale. Turns out she’s been dreaming of him while she’s in her coma. She wakes up, glad as anything to be alive and decides she has to ride the horse, right then and there. Well Dyonne—that’s my other sister,” he paused, physically unable to wipe the smile off his face. “Dyonne tells Diana to forget about the horse. There’s a monster storm brewing off the coast. Lightning, pouring rain, the works. Everybody knows she can’t take Zeus out in that. But all Diana can think about is this horse.”
He shook his head. “So Diana’s out there, soaked, and Dyonne is hollering at her from the window, mad as hell ‘Get in here or you’re going to get killed—again!’ She thinks she has Diana convinced when Diana comes busting through the front door of the house and rides Zeus straight into the dining room.” He laughed freely, tears touching the corners of his eyes. “God, I love those two.”
He tilted his chin down, still smiling. I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor if he kept looking at me that way.
He wrapped my hands in his. “I’m flying to Santorini in a few hours to see them,” he said. “If the house is still standing—and at this rate, that’s a big if.” He ran his thumbs in lazy circles over my wrists. Such a small gesture, but I didn’t want it to end. “I’d like you to come stay with us.”
The two halves of my soul fluttered in my throat. I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t.
I shouldn’t.
Besides, I’d never planned a trip without two guidebooks, a typed itinerary and at least three months’ notice. Well, except for my recent excursion with the Red Skulls and it was safe to say that undertaking hadn’t quite turned out like I’d expected.
“Well?” He hitched a brow.
He couldn’t be serious. “When would we leave? Now?”
“Ten minutes or so,” he said, not half as concerned as he should be. “I was about to come find you.”
“Ten minutes?” It would take longer than that to convince Pirate to leave the kitchen. And how would I take a dog to Greece?
And wasn’t I out here to tell Dimitri good-bye?
“You said yourself school doesn’t start for another week,” he teased, his lips on mine before I could even think about uttering the word no.
He drew me in again and again, his hands trailing down my back, pulling me into him, making me feel…
I pulled away. If I wanted to get rid of my powers, the ceremony was tonight. Of course that didn’t mean I couldn’t see Dimitri later…Wait. Yes, it did.
“What do you think?” He kissed the tip of my nose. I could feel every inch of him crushed against me.
I didn’t want to think. Just like I hadn’t wanted to think when I had him—all of him—on top of me at Motel 6.
It was time to face facts. This was never going to work.
Dang, it was hard to remember that with this utterly hot, raw, sexy griffin standing close enough to touch.
Before I could stop him, he lowered his mouth to mine. He kissed like his life depended on it. It was so easy to wrap myself up in his heat. I circled one of his nipples with a finger and felt him gasp.
“Come to Santorini with me,” he murmured against my lips. Delicious. “Black sand beaches, two crazy sisters, my family’s old country house.” He brushed my hair back from my face and tucked it behind my ears. “I’d ply you with olives and think of many, many ways to entertain you.” His lips tasted mine again. Once, twice. “And of course,” he said, nipping at the edges of my mouth, “you’d have to skip the Beast Feast.”
Yes.
No. My stomach tingled and it wasn’t because of the way his fingers trailed down my back. It had to end tonight. I’d always said I wanted to go back, be with my preschool kids, have kids of my own some day.
Dimitri would be better off too, I reminded myself, ignoring the heat pooling between my thighs. He’d spent most of his life trying to save his sisters. Now, for the first time, he could relax and think of his own future. Maybe settle down with a griffin like him. I already hated her.
He nestled his face in the curve of my bare neck. Every nerve ending zinged with the sensation. Oh my fluttering soul, what it would be like to have him again, naked again, inside me.
I had to get out of here.
I pulled at Dimitri’s emerald and to my surprise, the bronze chain unwound from my neck. We both watched the teardrop-shaped stone come to rest in my palm. It lay shadowy and thick in the moonlight.
“Here,” I said, offering it to him.
Please take it before I think about this too much.
“No,” he said, as a brief flash of worry crossed his face. “I gave that to you.”
“I just think it would be safer with you,” I said, dangling it between us.
Disappointment flickered over his features. “You’re not coming to Greece.”
“No,” I said, the stone heavy in my hand.
“Keep it,” he said. “We’ll talk when I get back.”
He captured my head in his hands and kissed me hard. Lips, teeth, tongue. He owned me, and I savored every second of it. I wanted to wrap my legs around him, feel him on top of me. He groaned and pulled me against him. Kissed me like he was never going to stop. Almost like a part of him knew we were kissing good-bye.
Chapter Twenty-four
This is the right thing to do, I reminded myself as I stood inside the mirrored main dining room of the ship. The witches had blacked out the windows and shoved the tables to the corners of the room. We stood in a circle under a wrought iron chandelier, tipped with dozens upon dozens of gaslights.
I’d watched Dimitri climb onto his Harley as we filed into the ceremony room. It was official—he was gone. And when he got back, I wouldn’t be here. Don’t think about it. What’s done is done.
Frieda squeezed my hand as peals of laughter rang from somewhere below us. “Giggle spell,” she whispered into my ear. “Betty Two-Sticks didn’t even see it coming.”
“Shut it,” Ant Eater growled on my other side.
“I’m just saying.” Frieda’s bracelets dangled against my wrist. “That woman is slow as pond water.”
“Seal the door,” Grandma ordered as she wheeled in a squeaky, rumbly dessert cart topped with a heated chafing dish. Flames curled under the dish and something sweet boiled inside. I knew better than to get my hopes up for cherries flambé.
The witches closed their eyes. I felt the magic build. The doors to the dining room slammed shut. No one moved a muscle. The only sound in the room came from bubbles seething over the fire. The air thickened as the gaslights dimmed and cast tall shadows against the mirrors behind us.
I couldn’t help remembering the ceremony in the basement of the Red Skull. So much had changed since they’d first offered me their protection.
Grandma bowed her head and the others followed. “We, the witches of the Red Skull, are bound to the magic that has sustained our order for more than twelve hundred years. In it, we find warmth, light and etern
al goodness. Without it, we perish. This night, we seek to rejoin the soul of our sister, Elizabeth. May she be one as we are one.”
Yeek. Nobody called me Elizabeth unless I was in trouble. I fought back a tangle of nerves. Let it go, Lizzie. Grandma knows what she’s doing.
Scarlet fiddled with something behind the ceremonial stew.
Beeeeeeep! A laptop screeched.
“Sorry,” Scarlet muttered.
Oh don’t tell me they were getting this spell off the Internet. My soul fluttered in my throat.
Grandma conferred with Scarlet for—not long enough in my book—before she stepped into the circle, holding a chain made from—oh geez—mangled twist ties.
Grandma Gertie was going to fuse my immortal soul with the same stuff I used to wrap bread.
I snuck a glance at Frieda. She seemed to think this made sense. Ant Eater? Riveted. Lovely. The witches observed Grandma with bated breath as she returned to the dessert cart and removed a covered dish. It smelled like chicken. But I knew better. Why couldn’t I be related to a coven that drew their magic from plants or, as long as I was dreaming here, chocolate?
Then again, this would be my last ceremony.
Grandma lifted the lid on a plate full of teeny tiny hearts. She held up the twist-tie links and popped a wee ticker into each round hole.
“From death we begin again.” She hung the grisly chain around my neck. Bet Dimitri would be glad now that I’d taken off his emerald. It felt gloopy, wet and it smelled like, well, dead animals. Syrupy excess dripped down my collarbone.
“As we join with you now, may the two halves of your soul be joined again.”
They darted back and forth inside my throat. Holy heck.
Grandma must have sensed my unease. “Relax,” she muttered. “We’re not done yet.”
I nodded and felt the gloppy necklace shift.
“Are you sure you want to give up your magic?” she asked.
This was it.
Shit.