Page 33 of Witchy Chick

“Then what is he to you?” His voice was arrogantly demanding. He was terrifying, but also annoying. What a horrible combination.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little brother? He’s the house’s caretaker.”

“A little brother? Perhaps for now, but he won’t be nineteen forever.”

“And I’ll be another year older. Even if he was an appropriate age, I’m not interested in dating. My divorce hasn’t even been finalized.”

“Divorce?” His voice was ice-cold. “You filed for a divorce? I see. I’ll make a deal with you. You come to a bar and get drunk with me, and I won’t kill this child unless he tries to kill me.”

I stared into those dark eyes, lost in the shadows of the night. I shivered hard in my wet velvet cloak and dress. “You make the strangest deals.”

“The bar is called Heart’s Ache, and it’s on the seedy side of town.”

“Which one?”

“Tomorrow. Six sharp. Don’t be late. I dislike waiting. It makes me bloodthirsty. Go take a hot bath and drink some tea before you catch a cold.” He stepped backwards, fell through a hole in space, and was gone, leaving the smell of ozone behind.

I shuddered hard, suddenly alone with my own bad choices. Where was my phone? I scrambled around in the mud for a while looking for it, but I only got muddier. I did find the grimoire. Apparently, he really didn’t like square books or he would’ve taken it with him. I held it tight to my chest and made the long, cold, dreary walk back to the house by moonlight.

I mean, it could have gone worse. My neck wasn’t hurting anymore, and other than being wet and cold, I felt pretty good. I wasn’t dead. He’d actually laid all the skeletons that were going to kill me to rest. And other than his weird deals about kissing me and drinking with me, he’d been much better than advertised. Better as in no one was dead. Not really a high bar, but that wasn’t what I’d been expecting from the Council’s Teeth.

I got to the house, and the door opened easily, like it was waiting for me. I mean, it was a magic house. Maybe it was waiting for me. I put the grimoire on a side table, draped my wet cloak over the banister then trudged upstairs to run a bath. After I slipped into the steaming water, I saw the dandelion mug at my elbow. The liquid was warm to the touch. Did I dare drink something that had just appeared in my bath? No. Absolutely not. And yet everyone said the house liked me. Surely it wouldn’t try to kill me.

I took a tentative sip. Chamomile. Basic. Non magical, just very soothing. I could live with that. Because it probably wouldn’t kill me.

I went to bed, sleeping like the dead until Sage woke me up by coming in and jumping on me.

“Jerome has bugs in his bed!”

I sat up, threw the blankets back then pulled the sheet up when I realized I hadn’t gotten into any pajamas the night before.

“He has bedbugs? Throw me my robe.”

She grabbed a black silk robe where it was draped over a chair I didn’t remember being there and tossed it to me. I pulled it on then rushed into the boy’s room, ready to do battle.

“They’re my friends!” Jerome said, clutching a bottle of bugs to his chest. “And they’re cute!”

I stared at the towhead with big eyes, protecting his bugs like I’d protected the dead bird I’d refused to give up when I first went into the foster system.

I didn’t remember anything before that. I knew nothing about my birth parents, just that they were dead. Could I actually be the heir of Hoar House? I sat down on the floor while the questions floated over me. Thirty years ago, the owner was killed. Thirty years ago, I went into the foster system.

“Mom? Don’t freak out. If you don’t want bugs in the house, I can keep them outside, even though they’ll get lonely,” Jerome said with his big, sad eyes.

I reached out and pulled him onto my lap, holding him tight while my heart beat too fast. He struggled then threw his arms around me, his softness and warmth soaking into my bones. “It’s okay,” I murmured, running my hand over his silky hair. “You can keep the bugs in your room, but only if your brother doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” James said, coming to kneel next to us. “Are you okay?”

I released Jerome and studied my two boys. “I’m okay. Just adjusting to the weirdness. Why do you like bugs, Jerome?”

He stared at me then down at his jar. “They listen to me,” he finally said.

Listen as in actually did what he said? Creepy. But what was new? “And James, what are you into?”

“I just love the woods, climbing the trees and listening to the wind blow.”

I nodded. Like Ray of Sunshine liking the nature stuff. Not accounting. None of them would ever have a healthy portfolio. “Okay. Get ready for school. If there are bugs out of a jar, anywhere else in the house, they’ll be banned.”

“You can’t ban bugs,” Jerome said soberly.