Chapter 15
Penny
I woke up with my head hurting so badly I wondered if someone had used it as a punching bag. I wasn’t in my own bed at my new, temporary home. Judging from the rich fabric and vibrant colors everywhere and the hand-woven tapestry of a frog on a toadstool on the wall right next to the bookshelf full of spell books, I was in Griselda’s guest-room-slash-library.
I didn’t remember getting here.
In fact, I didn’t remember much of anything after we’d gone back down to the dance floor, except for dancing with Prax. Except I swear I saw some dudes shrink into goblins, and there was this huge guy with a ton of hair. But everything was fuzzy, and I couldn’t recall many details, and those I did remember felt like I’d dreamed them.
I tried to sit up but quickly realized by the way the world was spinning that that might not be the best idea. Instead, I lay still, inhaling the scents of…eggs, bacon, and coffee?...and letting the magic that had seeped into Griselda’s belongings calm me.
”Good morning,” said a familiar, masculine voice. ”How are you feeling?”
“Prax?” His name came out of my mouth a hoarse whisper.
He held out a cup of water, and I took it gratefully, chugging a good half of it before handing it back.
“Do you remember anything?” he asked.
I shook my head and regretted it immediately. I grabbed my forehead, but the room kept spinning. I groaned.
“Is Sleeping Beauty finally up?” Lily called from outside the door.
I groaned again at the shrill sound of her voice.
“Yes. Does Zelda have anything for her headache?” Prax asked.
“It’s Gigi,” Griselda corrected, walking into the room. “I’ve got an old hangover potion from back when I didn’t know my limits, but I’m not sure it would help. I don’t think this was alcohol.” She leveled a look at me. “I think you were roofied.”
“The wizard guy?” I asked.
“That’s what we thought, too,” Prax said. “But he was just as confused at your state when he tried to take you from us at the front of the club. I don’t think it was him: he didn’t smell like the chemical. There was someone at the club who did, but I wasn’t able to pinpoint who.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, putting out my hand. “Back up a bit. What exactly happened? What is this about in front of the club? Everything is so hazy, and it feels like a dream.”
“What do you remember?” Prax asked.
“What I do remember doesn’t make any sense. There were these little goblin people and a giant ogre thing.”
“Troll, not ogre,” he said. “And a demon cab driver.”
“Speed Demon Cabs! I’ve heard of them. A Darlington special. We don’t have them in Boston.”
“They cost a little more, but they come extra fast,” Gigi said. “A good thing, too. He came just in time.”
They updated me with what had happened as we ate brunch. Prax had cooked again; enough for all my friends this time. He’d even cut up some bananas and oranges for Triscuit, which explained why the parrot was treating him like his new best friend.
“Let’s address the biggest issue here,” I said when we were done eating. “The spell. First, it picked Prax, an incubus. Then it brought me a weird, sketched-out wolf shifter. Then Grabby McGrabberson, a wizard. And now a troll? From another dimension? There’s no way that’s the perfect man for me. We need to stop this thing before it rips open time and space to send me suitors from god-knows-where.”
“I did a bit of searching on the forums when I woke up,” Lily said. “Don’t worry, I said I was asking for a friend, so everyone totally thinks I’m asking for myself. Turns out you’re not the first person who has had issues with that spell. A few months ago, there was a post from someone asking what to do. His story sounds nearly identical to yours.
“The spell sent him a mermaid that couldn’t make legs so she could go on land; he was at the beach and nearly got dragged under the waves. It also sent him a harpy, which wasn’t his style either. Everyone on the forum just brushed it off, telling him he must have messed up somewhere. He was pretty adamant that he did everything correctly, though. And he wasn’t a low-level witch wannabe either.”
“Did he ever post a follow-up?” I asked hopefully.
“No, but I DM’d him. I figure if he’s still around, he must’ve found a solution.”
Prax cleared his throat. “I’m not sure if this is helpful, but I’ve heard of witches and wizards crafting spells with high failure rates so others couldn’t profit off of them for fear things would go wrong. Could this be something like that?”
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” I said.
The muffled sound of my cell ringing came from under a cushion in the adjoining living room.
“Oops. Sorry,” Gigi said. “I forgot. I shoved your wristlet under a cushion because your phone kept ringing, and you weren’t awake yet. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with Travis or your mom first thing in the morning with a hangover.”
“Good call. Thanks.” I went over, orange juice still in hand, to fetch my clutch.
I returned to Triscuit attempting to trade a banana for the last piece of my bacon. “Hey! That’s mine! And you’re not supposed to have bacon, Triscuit.” I snatched the bacon off the plate and ate it.
“Triscuit wanna biscuit!” he screeched.
I gave him the rest of my eggs instead. “You little cannibal!” I said, even though I knew it wasn’t technically cannibalism because he wasn’t a chicken.
It wasn’t Travis or my mom. It was both. Oh, and my boss too. They’d all left messages—texts, not voicemail because I’d left my mailbox full on purpose—which was definitely for the best because I didn’t think I could be civil on the phone right now. I hoped the I-don’t-give-a-rat’s-ass attitude wouldn’t come out as venomously in writing.
I tried to go in the order of least to most stressful, starting with my boss. He’d left a message telling me they’d moved me back to Boston “as per my Dad’s request.” I fumed. It wasn’t my request. Was that even legal? It was very clear to me he’d always think of me as his friend’s kid. There was no future as my own person in that company. I was done.
I wrote a firmly worded message back, telling him that I was staying in Darlington and that since he had decided to transfer me without consulting me first, this was my two weeks’ notice, and oh, I was taking my two weeks’ vacation I didn’t use this year starting today. Then I screenshotted our conversation and sent it to HR to let them know not to expect me back. Ever.
“There. Done. I officially just quit the craptastic job.”
“Good for you. It’s about time,” Lily said.
Next on the list was Travis. I already knew exactly what I wanted to say to him, and no matter what he said to me, my answer would be the same: take a hike. But Travis didn’t want to talk about our relationship. Instead, he was pissed off I was “emasculating” him by finding someone when we hadn’t even officially broken up. Then, because I didn’t reply right away, his second message accused me of cheating on him all along.
What the hell?
He left a bunch more messages, and I kept scrolling until I saw a link to a gossip site and clicked on it. The headline read, Senator Daughter Jilted at the Altar Already with New Lover. I scrolled down, and the image shocked me.
“Oh, man…” I put my phone down on the table for everyone to see.
On the screen was a picture of me at the club. I was hanging off Prax, but the flash was so strong that it blurred out much of his clothing, only showing his face. He looked angry as if trying to protect me from the camera. The only saving grace was that I looked amazing in the photo: rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, and relaxed. Okay, maybe too relaxed.
“I don’t remember this at all.”
“The flash!” Prax exclaimed. “Someone pushed me hard on the way out of the club, and there was a bright flash. That was when I noticed the chemical smell. I bet whoever did this was also the one who spiked your drink.”
“Did anyone else know where you were?” Lily asked.
“Nope. Just you guys.”
Mystery still unsolved, I wrote a quick message back to Travis, telling him that we were officially broken up the moment he no-showed to our wedding and that I’d been single since Thursday evening. Then, I sent him a link to a different article on the very same site, with a photograph of him in Vegas with his arms around not one but two women that he most likely paid for, taken the day after our non-wedding.
Then, to make sure he got the message loud and clear, I told him I’d already mailed his ring back and never to contact me again.
There wasn’t anything else I could do about the photo now, so I moved to the last and most stressful messages: namely, the ones where my mom reiterated what an embarrassment I was to the family and asked how I could throw away something with Travis for some good-for-nothing playboy I found at a club?
Prax was particularly offended at being referred to as “probably a useless pauper who’s only interested in you for money.”
The last message said that I was “grounded” (gimme a break) and included a link to a plane ticket to Boston, together with a very firm, “You’d better be on that flight or else.” Then they said that a real estate agent was heading over with potential tenants to see about renting out the house.
“Holy shit, they move fast,” Lily said. “I can’t believe they already have someone in there to look at the place. It’s been all of four hours since that article was posted.”
I checked the time at the corner of my screen. “Oh fuck! I gotta go. They’re going to be there in like, ten minutes. I left my clothes on the bathroom floor after my shower—underwear still inside my leggings and everything.”
A quick portal later, I was back in my living room. Shit, shit, shit! They were already outside.
“I’ll go delay them,” Prax said. He’d followed me home. “You go pick up your unmentionables and…maybe get changed.”
Right. I’d totally forgotten that I was still in my clubbing clothes.
He popped out of existence, and I ran up the stairs to make myself presentable. I quickly cleaned up and threw on my favorite shark t-shirt—the hammerhead one with the words It’s Hammer Time across the back—and jeans before peeking through the blinds.
A sweet little old lady was standing in my front yard, chatting to the real estate agent and a very normal-looking couple. It took me a moment or two to realize it was Prax in little old lady form, complete with a floral patterned babushka and a cane. Prax really did enjoy his cosplay.
The couple was hanging off of grandma-Prax’s every word, their eyes round as dinner plates, but the real estate agent looked downright annoyed. I wondered what was prompting such differing reactions.
I headed back downstairs. Since I was here anyway, I might as well start packing everything I’d taken out back into their boxes. I sure hoped I had enough time to find a place to rent before someone moved in. Knowing my parents, they’d take a slightly lower rent to get a tenant right away to force me to come home.
They’d probably already put a limit on my card, too, giving me just enough to make it to Boston.
It wouldn’t work this time, though. I was done playing their games.
The doorbell finally rang, and I went to open it, but the door opened before I got there. Dwayne, the real estate agent, must have a key. That was kind of creepy. What if I was changing?
“Oh. I didn’t know you were home. Your parents said you were heading back to Boston.”
Ugh! I was in my thirties, but everyone still treated me like I was a teenager.
I smiled politely. “My parents are mistaken.”