Chapter 1 #2
Hell no. “No thank you,” I said, taking another sip of coffee. “Respectfully. Deeply respectfully. In fact, spiritually respectfully.”
Dolores gave me one of her signature frowns. “You’ll need to arrive an hour early for preparation.”
“Preparation for what?” I asked cautiously. No way was I doing this, but I was still intrigued. I was a curious beast.
Ruth gasped happily. “Body paint!”
Coffee flew out of my mouth in a violent spray of pure panic. Drops splattered across Dolores’s papers, the table, and the front of her dark sweater.
Slowly, Dolores lowered her eyes to the coffee dripping down the page she’d been reading.
“Oh good,” said Beverly pleasantly. “Now the permits are caffeinated.”
“I just organized those by district,” said Dolores in the flat tone people used right before committing murder.
I grabbed a nearby dish towel and started wildly wiping at the papers, somehow only making the smearing worse. “I’m helping. Look at me helping.”
“You’re dissolving the ink,” snapped Dolores, yanking the papers away from me.
“Okay, but in my defense, you emotionally ambushed me before coffee fully activated.” I pointed at myself. “I can’t do this. I have a kid. A whole child. A very active child with gorilla abilities and absolutely no fear of gravity.”
As if on cue, Darian chose that exact moment to stand on the stool.
“Tada!” he yelled proudly.
I grabbed the back of his shirt before he could launch himself into another dimension and pulled him back down.
Dolores shrugged. “Amelia can watch him.”
I stared at her. “My mother?”
Beverly burst out laughing into her coffee. “Oh, this is good.”
Dolores waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, your mother. Darian will survive.”
That was… weirdly not reassuring. “I don’t want to lead some creepy magical beast ceremony.”
“It’s not creepy,” said Ruth, frowning like she wasn’t entirely sure. “Okay, parts of it are creepy. But in a springtime way.”
I stared at her, not knowing what to say to that.
“And you’ll wear ceremonial flower robes,” continued Dolores.
I shook my head. “No way. You can’t make me. I don’t care that you’re older and taller…”
“With manly shoulders and a unibrow,” added Beverly.
“You can’t force me,” I continued.
Ruth clapped excitedly. “I can make matching outfits for you and Darian!”
“No,” I said firmly.
Ruth was already spiraling creatively. “Little flower crowns. And tiny leafy boots. Oh! Maybe suspenders shaped like vines.”
Darian gasped. “Monkey vines!”
“Exactly!” said Ruth.
I pointed at my son. “See? This is how cults start.”
Dolores sighed heavily. “It’s one ceremony, Tessa. And we’re all participating. All of us. So you need to do your part. You’re part of this family. Aren’t you?”
I cocked a brow. “Only technically.”
“So you’re going to do this,” concluded my tall aunt. “You don’t have a choice. End of discussion.”
I placed my empty mug on the counter. “One ceremony becomes yearly expectations. Next thing I know I’m howling at the moon beside a weregoat while covered in edible glitter.”
Beverly tilted her head thoughtfully. “That was me three years ago.”
“I hate all of you,” I growled.
“You’re still doing it,” said Dolores.
Cauldron help me.
Yes, I was irritated at Dolores for ordering me around.
I was a grown-ass witch, a Nexari, and no one, not even Marcus, could tell me what I could and couldn’t do.
But Dolores was family, and she’d been there for me through the worst of things.
If she wanted me to host some strange, witchy beast march, I’d do it. I might be drunk, but I’d still do it.
“Fine,” I muttered into my coffee. “But if somebody hexes me into dancing naked under the moonlight, I’m suing the town.”
“It’s not that kind of ceremony,” said Ruth.
Beverly slowly smiled over the rim of her mug. “Not officially.”
Dolores finally gathered the coffee-soaked papers into a neat stack with the exhausted precision of a woman one inconvenience away from burying herself alive beneath festival permits. “You’ll stand near the front beside the ceremonial lantern.”
“Of course there’s a ceremonial lantern.”
“It symbolizes rebirth.”
“Mm-hm.”
“And awakening.”
“Sure.”
“And the returning strength of the supernatural spirit after winter.”
I nodded. “Right.”
Ruth looked delighted. “We used to release enchanted woodland creatures during the ceremony too.”
I froze. “Used to?”
“Only until the squirrel uprising of ’98,” said Dolores.
Beverly nodded solemnly. “Dark times.”
Darian suddenly raised both syrup-covered hands in the air. “I wanna do beast march!”
“No. You’re too little.”
“I’m big.” To emphasize this, he puffed out his tiny chest so hard he nearly slid backward off the stool.
Tinker Bell caught the edge of his plate before it tipped over. “Tiny gorilla child has strong confidence. Weak balance.”
“I’m just saying,” I continued, mostly to myself now, “there’s no universe where this ends normally. Something always happens at these things. Somebody gets cursed. Somebody catches magical fungus. Beverly seduces a stranger beside a beverage station.”
“That only happened twice,” Beverly corrected. “People become emotionally vulnerable around cinnamon.”
I rubbed my temples. Tomorrow I’d apparently be leading a supernatural beast ceremony through downtown Hollow Cove wearing flower robes while magical lanterns floated through the air and shapeshifters probably howled at something symbolic.
Normal people spent April buying patio furniture.
The doorbell rang, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I’ll get it,” I said as I walked out the kitchen, glad for the interruption about the festival. I knew if I asked, Iris would help me. The thought of the Dark witch with me made the entire Awakening Beast Ceremony feel less foreboding.
I reached the front door, grabbed the handle, and yanked it open.
A tall blonde stood on the front porch looking like she’d just stepped out of an expensive shampoo commercial fueled entirely by spite.
Long golden waves spilled over her shoulders, her fitted jeans looked painted on, and her silky cream blouse screamed rich people dry-cleaning bills topped off with a pair of excessively large, breasts that put mine to shame. That always pissed me off.
“Allison,” I growled, my voice dropping low.
A.k.a. Gorilla Barbie was back.