Page 36 of Jingle Spells

“That’s what I realized when you and Mama were arguing,” her sister said cheerfully. “Starting at midnight tonight, we won’t have any powers.”

“So?”

“If we don’t have any powers, we technically aren’t witches. And if we aren’t witches . . .”

Delilah’s stomach did that familiar drop it always did right before one of her sister’s plans went spectacularly wrong. “If we aren’t witches, then the wards can’t keep us out of the casino.”

Her sister’s eyebrows did a little dance. “What do you say to a little double date? Me and Nate, you and your historian. Let’s go see what the magicians are hiding in that nasty old skyscraper of theirs.”

“Hey, you two . . .” Nate came over, his expression suggesting he’d also recognized Scarlett’s plotting face. “Are you scheming? Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.

Chapter 12

O Holy Night

Jasper was up to his elbows in peeled mushrooms when Zahir burst through the kitchen doors. He had a wild look in his eyes. “No, no, no! Those cuts have to be perfect! If we leave this job for Kelly, we’ll end up with blood-splattered mushrooms and a severed finger!”

Jasper set down his knife. “Who peels mushrooms, anyway?”

“People who love perfection. And anyone in my kitchen.”

“But I thought the whole point of Saturnalia was for the witches to make this meal?”

“Oh sure, that’s the story and we stick to it.” Zahir set about organizing containers to hold the various elements of the mise en place. “Like I’ve already told you, we cheat. We cheat like grannies at cribbage. There’s no other option, believe me. A few years back, Kelly tried to make an espagnole sauce and somehow created a small black hole. And that despite having given up her powers during the Saturnalia ritual. Like, I don’t even know how she managed that one. But somehow I lost three whisks and a measuring cup to the Great Void.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“And yet.” He tasted something from a nearby pot and clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “Oh sweet merciful Julia Child, no. This is off. Quick, hand me that shallot. No, the other shallot. The pretty shallot. This has to be perfect.”

Jasper couldn’t help but smile. There was something touching about the way Zahir fussed over every detail, determined to help his adoptive family maintain their dignity during their magic-free period.

“So all this prep is for them to . . . pretend to cook later?”

“Finally you’re catching on. What, you think I’m going to let Delilah Melrose anywhere near an actual stove? The last time she tried to make pasta without magic, she somehow managed to turn the water solid. Not frozen. Solid. Like glass. I had to chisel it out of the pot.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh ho!” Zahir went to the fridge and pulled out a container of perfectly diced mirepoix, every cube of carrot and celery precisely identical. “Suddenly we’re interested in Delilah’s culinary catastrophes, are we?”

“I just . . . it’s professional curiosity.”

“Sure, sure. Very professional. Like the way you keep staring at her like she invented sunshine? That kind of professional?”

Jasper flushed. Whoops. “Is it . . . uh . . . is it really that obvious?”

“Oh you know, only to anyone in possession of eyes. Listen, I need to say something to you . . .” Zahir was suddenly very still for the first time in days; something in his expression made Jasper nervous. “. . . and you may not like it.”

“About Delilah?”

“Sort of. Also about Moses Injabere. You met some of his family, right? They’re here for a reunion?”

“Sure, I saw a whole gaggle of Injaberes at breakfast. Which one was Moses?”

“None of them. He doesn’t visit anymore. You see, he helped his parents move here a few years ago, and he stayed for a while, to help them settle in. One day he came into the hotel, looking for directions to the hardware store. One glance at those eyes and . . . Well, I was done for. You know? That big romantic moment that the movies say we’re all supposed to get? Well, I got mine.” Zahir went to the window and snipped some oregano from a potted plant. His hands were steady but his voice had an edge. “We were together for little while, and it was . . . everything. The kind of everything where you start planning a future. But Moses was a lawyer. Damn good one, too. Immigration cases, civil rights. That kind of annoying, make the world a better place type of lawyer. But Oak Haven doesn’t exactly have a thriving legal community, you know? We don’t really do courts around here . . . I mean, unless you count Louise Demain’s occasional attempts to sue the concept of time.” He shrugged. “Anyway, in the end, Moses left. Had to. And the minute he crossed the town line⁠—”

“The forgetting spell,” Jasper said quietly.