by Lena North
“We just took a look at the ladies. Wanted to make sure everything was twitching and shaking the way it’s supposed to,” the lime green speedo-clad man explained, just as jovially.
I groaned.
“Right,” Janie snapped. “Hunter. Take your friends inside, get out of the false advertising and get dressed. Hazel, call your daughter to let her know what you found out. Biff and Jackson, go back to whatever you were doing. Boys. Either you disappear, or you’re on laundry duty for a month.”
Everyone started moving, but I heard Grandpa mutter something about it not being false advertising. Janie heard too and stomped her foot. The three old men suddenly looked at each other and grinned. Then they put their left thumbs in their ears and wiggled the fingers, and their brows. I stared at them, which I shouldn’t have done because they turned, and I accidentally got a good look at their elderly backsides.
Yikes. I’d been right about the flossing.
“The bathroom is done,” Jackson murmured into my ear.
“What?” I breathed, still a little stunned by the sight of an electric blue string disappearing between my grandfather’s butt cheeks.
“You could come over to my house and try it out,” he murmured and moved a few strands of hair away from my shoulder in a way that made a shiver run down my spine.
I looked into his blue eyes, and he winked at me, but then his words penetrated, and I blinked.
“You’re asking me to come and poop at your place?”
His eyes started laughing, but he said calmly, “Or pee. You don’t even have to tell me which option you pick.”
He moved some more hair to tuck it behind my ear, which caused another body-shiver, and I heard Elsa giggle.
Then my phone rang, and I grabbed it with a desperation I was pretty sure wasn’t attractive, but the events which had just passed on my parents’ porch had been unsettling, to say the least.
“Hey,” I chirped, hoping that it wouldn’t be my mother, but willing to talk to anyone at that point.
“Hello, angel-face,” a deep voice murmured.
Rafael.
Chapter Nine
Just another evening at Tiaso’s
“Hey,” I said, trying desperately to sound casual in spite of my confusion.
How the hell had Rafael found my phone number? If Silenus had given it to him, I'd figure out a spell that made his beard turn blue.
“Bad time?” he asked, and I could hear laughter in his voice.
Talking to Rafael with Jackson standing so close I could feel the warmth of him through my tank top was pretty uncomfortable, but I wasn't going to tell either of them that.
“Why are you calling?” I asked instead.
“Is that wolf there?”
“Which wolf?” I asked.
There were five curious wolves on the porch with me. And one of them looked seriously pissed off, something I wasn't planning to tell Rafael either.
“The one with the cutesy ponytail who looks like he bench-presses Buick's and should be on the cast for Vikings.”
Jackson growled. Damned wolf-ears.
“Ah,” Rafael murmured. “He heard that?”
“Why are you calling?” I asked again, trying not to laugh at his ridiculously apt description of Jack.
“I have a job for you.”
I blinked.
“I already have a job,” I countered.
“This is just a teeny little thing. More a favor than a job, in fact. Just a friend of mine who needs to find this thing he misplaced.”
I blinked again.
“No,” Jackson snapped, leaning forward to speak into the phone which meant his mouth was about an inch from mine.
And he didn't move back.
“He decides what you can and can’t do?” Rafael murmured smoothly.
Jackson's eyes locked on mine and it didn’t take a mind reader to figure out that he wanted me to tell Rafael to get lost.
So, of course, I said, “I’d be happy to help. Let's talk about this tomorrow.”
“It's a date. Tiaso's at nine.”
Jackson growled again, but I growled right back. Rafael started laughing.
“I’ll be there,” I chirped.
Then I hit the screen to close the call and put the phone in my back pocket with what I hoped was an air of nonchalance.
“He calls you angel-face?” Jackson snapped.
“That is so cute,” Grandma Hazel cut in, stepped back with her hands in the air when Jackson glared at her, and added defiantly, “Well, it is.”
“Hey, Jackson,” Elsa said. “Long time, no see.”
“Huh,” was the only answer she got.
“Jack,” Joel murmured. “Welcome back.”
He didn’t get any answer at all.
“Okay,” I said breezily. “I’m going to call Mom now.”
“Kitty,” Jackson said quietly.
“What is the matter with you?” I snapped. “He’s like two hundred forty-five years old, and he had a job for me.”
Okay, that was a massive fib. So massive it wasn’t even a fib but an outright lie, but Jackson didn’t know that, and since my dad had started to scowl, I figured it was justified.
“Who was that?” Dad grunted.
“One of the customers at Tiaso’s,” I said, and that wasn’t a lie. “One of his friends had misplaced something. They probably just wanted me to look in the lost and found box at the bar.”
And with that, I was back to fibbing again.
“Can I call Mom now?” I snapped, ignored everyone and walked away.
For the first time in my life, a conversation with Fuchsia de Chamontelette-Azdjakzian was preferable to what I was doing.
***
The bar was full of people, and I was busy pouring eight Jaeger-shots for a group of dwarves and their lady-friend when Elsa and Joel walked in. As expected, every goddamned burly dude in the entire place shifted their gazes from the dark-haired girl hanging with the dwarves, straightened and started grinning.
Those biker boys sure liked their Disney princesses.
Elsa walked through the place seemingly oblivious to the attention she was attracting. When she and a grinning Joel reached me, a couple of men immediately offered her their seats with a slightly embarrassing flourish.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly.
Joel took the other seat which earned him a frown.
“Hey, Kit,” he said, ignoring the biker-glares. “Beer?”
I nodded, finished pouring the shots and got my friends their drinks.
“He’s not here yet?” Elsa murmured.
“It’s ten to nine.”
She didn’t respond, and I recognized the slightly vacant look on her face, so I walked over to fill up an order from one of the waitresses. That would give her time to scan the bar and figure out what kind of other everyone was.
Five minutes to nine the door opened again, and my grandmother walked in, followed by my grandfather and a man I’d last seen wearing lime green speedos. He was now in baggy chinos and an equally baggy wife-beater, which was an improvement, albeit just barely.
“Yoo-hoo,” Grandma squealed and pranced through the place as if she was on a garden party with her fellow Nim-witches. “Can I have a Margarita?”
I turned to Silenus who had frozen and stared as if in a trance at the tall, willowy woman wearing a long, flouncy dress in various shades of turquoise, and whose newly colored hair was a rather aggressively bright pink with white highlights.
“Grandma,” I murmured.
He started grinning.
“Welcome,” he boomed. “What a lovely surprise. I will make you the best Margarita you’ve ever had.”
Two minutes to nine, Jackson walked in with my three brothers.
Or, yeah. Let me rephrase that.
Just before Rafael arrived, an overbearing, wolf-shifting police officer walked into my place of work together with my moronic and also underage brothers.
“For
fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath and handed Benny his requested beer and shot.
Joel turned and started grinning.
“Pretty sure this will be fun,” he said with no little amount of glee in his voice.
I was about to take a break that lasted the rest of the evening when Jack and the idiots reached me. And the door opened.
Rafael walked in, paused to stare at the gathering in front of me, and promptly started laughing. His black eyes glittered with humor, and the way his long hair swayed was mesmerizing. It sounded as if one of the bikers had punched Elsa in the stomach and Joel muttered an affirmation that he might in fact bat for the other team if this dude was playing too.
“Oh, wow,” Grandma Hazel squealed, and I was about to agree with her when she added, “This has got to be the best Margarita in my life!”
“Told you so,” Silenus crooned.
He was leaning over the bar and grinning in a way that could not be described as anything other than salacious. Grandma Hazel was also smiling and then she blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and press it to his heart. Or, press it to the top of his enormous belly, at least. I shuddered.
“I thought you said he was two hundred forty-five years old,” Jackson suddenly said.
I closed my eyes.
“I’m not that old,” Rafael murmured, and I opened my eyes to look at the two men in front of me.
For the first time, I regretted snoozing during witch-class because I distinctly remembered someone droning on about a spell that made you invisible, something which would have come in incredibly handy at that exact moment.
“I’m two hundred thirty-eight. And four months.”
My mouth fell open, and I turned to Elsa.
“He’s a vampire?” I whispered.
She shook her head, sniffed a little and her eyes widened.
“We’ll talk later,” she whispered back.
“I want to know now,” I protested.
“It’s complicated.”
“You do realize we can hear you?” Jackson said exasperatedly.
“Do you wear underwear?” Grandpa Hunter cut in.
His voice was somewhat loud, and all conversations in the bar stopped abruptly.
“What?” Rafael asked when he realized that it was his wardrobe choices the old geezer was inquiring about.
“Jackson here is living dangerously. He does not wear briefs. How about you?”
There is was. My moment to close my eyes and never, not ever open them again.
“I live for danger too,” Rafael said.
I forgot my vow to keep my eyes closed. They flew open, and I found myself staring straight into a pair of black eyes full of laughter. I turned mutely to look at Jackson.
“Perhaps you could arrest Grandpa Hunter?” I suggested weakly.
“On what grounds?” he asked calmly.
“I don’t know, Jack. You’re the cop. Harassment? Attempted murder?”
Jackson blinked and asked, “Murder?”
“If he asks me about my lack of underwear, I will die.”
And there the bar went silent again.
“That came out wrong,” I shared. “I wear panties.”
“Okay,” Jackson said.
“You sure?” Rafael asked and wiggled his brows.
“Of course, I’m sure,” I snapped. “They’re black lace, and the edges itch my –”
Jackson started coughing, Rafael began to laugh, and so did Joel and Elsa.
I tried my best to not blush and cleared my throat.
“Does anyone in this goddamned bar want another beer?” I shouted at the top of my lungs.
Hands went up everywhere, so I ignored the situation at hand and got to work. In the corner of my eye, I saw Jack and Rafael eye each other suspiciously, and then Jack said something. Rafael straightened, and I tried to hear what they said, but I only caught snippets because I also had to keep an eye on Grandma Hazel who had a gathering of old men around her, and Grandpa Hunter who was talking to one of the biker babes about how to best groom a goatee. Since the biker babe wasn't as much babe as she was biker, her own goatee was quite impressive.
When there finally was a lull in the requests for drinks, I walked over to Joel and Elsa and bugged my eyes out at them.
“Help me,” I hissed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You should be careful, Kitty,” Elsa said. “Sex-on-legs is an –”
“Kitty,” sex-on-legs himself called out. “Come here.”
I turned slowly and shook my head. Elsa started coughing, and Silenus was suddenly booming out laughter. Jackson raised a hand, palm up, and flicked his fingers a couple of times.
“Come here,” he murmured.
I raised my brows. Was he insane?
“Does anyone want another beer?” I asked loudly.
Not a single hand went up at first, but then two grinning men raised theirs.
Well, shit. That had backfired.
“There you go,” I muttered as I put the two glasses in front of Jack and Rafael. “And you better tip me.”
“We’ve come to an agreement,” Rafael said.
What?
“I’d like to hear about this,” Grandma Hazel chirped, and added, “In my role as the chaperone, of course.”
“Chaperone?” Rafael asked.
“Don’t ask,” Jack muttered. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Agreement?” I snapped.
“Right,” Jack said. “We both want to…” His eyes slid over to Grandma, and then back to me. “Take you on dates.”
I was pretty sure those weren’t the words they’d used when discussing me.
“So, we will,” Rafael said.
What?
“No.”
“Why not?” Grandma Hazel asked.
Since I had no suitable answer to give her, I ignored her and focused on why Rafael was there in the first place.
“You said you wanted me to find something?”
Jack sighed, but I ignored him too.
“My friend Gabe lost his purse, probably somewhere in Cathedral Park. He’s got things in it that are of… sentimental value.”
“Hasn’t he looked for it himself?”
“Of course,” Rafael said. “An old lady said that a dog grabbed it and ran off.”
“I’m not a very good tracker,” I told him.
“I’m a schuper duper tracksher,” one of the triplets suddenly felt the need to share, and he did it in a decidedly slurry voice.
I turned to look at him.
“Are you drunk?” I asked slowly.
“Yup,” he hiccupped with a happy grin.
“That’s weird,” I said, leaned over the bar and roared, “Because I’ve given you non-alcoholic beer all night, you underage twit!”
That sobered him up.
“What’s the old lady’s name?” I asked Rafael.
I got the details and glanced over on Joel to make sure he caught everything too.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I murmured.
“Good,” Rafael said, and Jackson murmured something which sounded suspiciously like the f-bomb.
“So, Kitty. Who’s first?” Rafael said with a grin.
“First?”
“Dates,” Jackson clarified. “And I’m first.”
They were going to take turns?
“We’re having a karaoke night at the community center on Wednesday,” Grandpa Hunter shared. “It’ll be a blast.”
“You’re first,” Rafael quickly agreed with Jackson.
And there was the f-bomb again.
“Excellent,” Grandpa said and rubbed his hands together. “You can even borrow my penis-enlarger if you need it,” he offered Jackson.
There was a stunned moment of silence during which Jackson’s face darkened, and I could tell that I would most likely have one grandfather less in a few seconds, so I prepared to intervene when the door was opened with considerable force.
A c
hubby man with short arms and a scowl on his face marched in.
“You ruined my life,” he shouted, and I recognized him.
Last time I’d seen that troll, he’d been naked. And sitting on me.
Well, shit.
Chapter Ten
Beetroot sherry
“How many times did you have to shower to get the mucus out?” Joel asked as he parked the car in the small parking lot next to the boat ramp.
“Three,” I mumbled and let my gaze slide around Cathedral Park, not entirely sure what I was looking for.
The stupid purse wouldn’t just come running out of the rhododendron bushes shouting my name. Or, it might, since it apparently had magical powers, but I hoped it wouldn’t because that would seriously freak me out.
“He was so sad,” Elsa said, and I saw her pale blue eyes glitter with friggin’ tears.
I rolled my eyes and tried my best to say nothing at all about her misplaced sympathies because really? She was my friend, and I had been sat on by a troll again.
The troll had admittedly sobbed uncontrollably, but I got toll-goop in my hair, and most of the bar laughed at me, so she should really feel sorrier for me than the short-armed blubbering dude who only had himself to blame for his misery.
“He was,” she insisted. “He really loves that woman, Kitty. We have to help him.”
Uh, no.
“Where does the old lady live?” I asked Joel instead of getting into an argument with Elsa.
“Up there,” Joel said and pointed up the hill. “Decateur Street.”
I was out of breath when we rang the doorbell. Joel was panting too. Elsa smiled sweetly at us and whinnied softly. And smugly.
“Yes?” a small, old woman asked suspiciously.
Aha, I thought. A crony. Since cronies were regulars who were under the protection of wizards, it made sense that no one had been able to make her tell them what she’d seen. It also posed a wee problem for us since we wouldn’t be able to either.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Kitty, and we’re –”
“Company!” she squealed and disappeared into the house.
I blinked and turned to my friends who were blinking too. They looked stupid, which meant I probably did, so I nudged Joel, and we followed the woman into her home.
“Sit down,” she said amicably, and we did.
“I’m Kitty, and –”