Chapter 2
Brianne was still glaring at the door when I finally emerged from my office. I plopped myself in the chair she still kept next to her desk, toying with the fancy nameplate we’d created for her.
“He finally gone?” I asked, trying not to sound afraid.
“He sat right where you are now and chatted, all casual, as if he wasn’t throwing wrenches into my plans.” She lifted one nostril in an adorable little sneer. “Are you sure he has an actual problem? Because I think he’s screwing with us.”
“Well, at least someone is getting screwed.” She snorted at me before answering the office phone.
I waited while she set an appointment for one of Lauren’s folks.
It still amazed me that we weren’t up-to-date on the latest technology.
If I were back in New Orleans, I’d want to be able to send a quick text or log in to some portal and never speak to a human again until the time of my appointment.
But apparently too many of the supernatural population had tech phobias.
Some of them had powers that went straight-up wonky around electricity.
Others just plain didn’t like it. Too much of a reminder that, despite their longevity, the world moved beyond them.
I was learning a lot about it in volume six of the Magnolia Codex.
Despite my initial glee a few months ago, when Volume Five: The Healer’s Grimoire opened itself to me, it wasn't the one I’d accessed most in the past three months.
While I’d initially wanted an all-access pass to every spell and charm I could muster, instinct told me to stick with volume six, at least for now.
Entangled Threads: Friendships and Romances in the Supernatural World.
It was through the thread book that I’d begun to understand how vast the world truly was.
Only six months ago, I’d learned that magic was real.
Now, I was reading detailed information on everything from Asrai to Wulvers.
There were even other dimensions, worlds living alongside ours, limits beyond the depths of my imagination.
It baffled the mind. So much so that I’d put my desire to access more of my own magic on hold.
I was a small piece of a bigger puzzle, and figuring out how I fit was more important than making myself stand out. At least for now.
I was still lost in those thoughts, debating how much I could tell her about my latest session with Cupid when she hung up the phone. I was low-key worried she would go after him if she knew he didn’t really care about the snowball effect he was creating. Hell hath no fury, after all.
“Which one this time?” Brianne cupped her hands under her chin, raising her eyebrows at me. Every time I zoned out, she assumed I was daydreaming about a wolf shifter.
“Neither,” I replied. She cocked her head like I was full of crap. “No, I mean it. I was musing about the codex, and wondering if there’s something in it that would help Cupid.”
“If you say so.”
“Hey, you need me to make progress with him, too.” I shoved up from the chair. “Unless you’re willing to try the Saran Wrap method I suggested.”
“As if that would work.” She turned to her monitor, pulling up one of those fancy spreadsheets she liked to make.
“Never know until you try.” I made my way to the kitchen area, laughing as she flicked her middle finger at me, while the other hand typed furiously on her keyboard.
“Stupid supernatural sex wall,” she mumbled under her breath.
Poor Brianne. Humans were still horny as goats. And, I guess since I was half-human, I was half horny. Nate had lost all his mojo and didn’t seem to miss it, but Brianne was just shy of begging for it.
Come to think of it, there was no point in daydreaming about either wolf shifter. Neither one of them was interested in anything more than a friendly conversation. Stupid supernatural sex wall, indeed.
I left her to her work. I wasn’t going to add to her worries by admitting that I suspected this could become a permanent state.
Not yet. I stuck my head in the fridge then shut it almost immediately and wandered to the small pantry.
I wanted something. Sweet, maybe. With a little crunch.
Not candy, but not a heavy meal. Like a solution in a bowl. Or maybe on a plate.
“Cecelia, any idea what I’m looking for?” A bowl of caramel popcorn appeared on the shelf. It wasn’t exactly what I was thinking of, but it was there, so I took it. “Thanks, babe.”
House sent me a blast of warmth, like a warm hug on a cold day.
She loved her new name, and the way it honored both my family and her history.
It fit her, too. I’d never actually called my mother Cecelia.
In fact, no one had. She’d gone by CC, just like I did with only my closest friends.
But her full name was a beautiful one, and it fit House like a glove.
While the rest of us had been frustrated and angsty as of late, Cecelia seemed pretty chill.
She’d decorated herself for the holidays.
Pumpkins and various other gourds had lined the patio over Thanksgiving.
In December, twinkling lights and pretty vines of cranberry and figs wound along the banisters.
Icicles dripped from the gutters outside, and sweet little forest creatures adorned the walkway to her front door, where she’d manifested a beautiful wreath of holly and ribbons.
Now that we were past December, she was trying out Carnival decorations.
Every day, some new mask or fleur-de-lis found its way into the lobby.
She hadn’t exactly figured out the vision yet, which I found to be charmingly human of her.
She’d very notably skipped Valentine’s Day decorations, despite it falling before Mardi Gras this year.
Gotta admit, I was grateful for it. I’d never been much for the Hallmark vibe of that day.
And with Cupid’s issues dousing my desires every damn day, I definitely didn’t want to see hearts and red everywhere.
I settled at the snack table and munched.
With every bite, I felt better. Maybe it was what I’d been craving after all. I should have known.
“He was looking at you like that because you sound like a gibbering idiot every time you talk to him he talks to you.” Lyra stomped ahead of Lydia and took the chair across from me.
Their bickering was nothing new, but the tone was more teasing than snappish this time, so I did my best to ignore them.
“Honestly, Lydia, it’s like your tongue swells around him. ”
“It does not. I just can’t seem to explain what I want.
” Lydia nodded to me by way of hello, then walked to the counter to pick up the mug of coffee Cecelia already had waiting for her.
She picked up a second one for Lyra and joined us at the table, turning her attention to me.
“You suck at communication. How do you deal with it when you can’t connect your brain to your mouth? ”
“More contractor woes?” I ignored her barb, passing the popcorn to Lyra. Personally, caramel popcorn and coffee seemed like a bad mix, but who was I to judge? “Have you tried drawings? Or the, what do you call them, the thingies architects use?”
“Blueprints.” Lydia grabbed a handful of popcorn and shook her head at me. I stuck my tongue out. I wasn’t thrilled at having proved her point. “That’s how it started.”
After the Threadbinding ceremony, the Twins had decided to partially merge their divisions of the Magnolia.
They had plans for joint treatments and day-long packages that sounded absolutely wonderful.
And profitable. They were adding a joint wing that linked the currently separate spaces.
I was all for it, and I loved that they were rebuilding their relationship in creative new ways that also honored their senses of independence.
But for reasons she was keeping from me, Cecelia was not totally on board, so they hadn’t been able to use house magic for the construction.
Instead, they’d hired a contractor. I hadn’t met him yet, but so far I was a fan.
Mostly because he took absolutely zero crap from Lydia, which was fun for me.
Particularly since I wasn’t looking forward to more renovation mayhem.
We’d only recently finished rebuilding the town from the boobicane.
I didn’t want to endure the sounds of heavy machinery another moment more than we had to.
The eerie, consistent pounding of a pile driver was going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.
Luckily, between the three of them, they couldn’t even settle on a winning design, so I was keeping all of my “two fae and a contractor walk into a bar” jokes to myself. At least for now.
“Maybe you need a different contractor,” I offered. “Didn’t Misty use a giant or something when she fixed up Bridge House?”
“Buford. And he was mostly human.” Lydia snarled the words at me. She lifted her coffee mug like it would shield her from biting me. “We aren’t switching contractors. It’s not Joe’s fault I can’t make up my mind.”
“Mm-hmm.” Lyra side-eyed her sister. I was missing something, but Lydia was in too foul a mood for me to investigate. She was angling toward Lyra, already gearing up for another fight, and God help me, I was not about to let her ruin my caramel popcorn experience.
“I have an idea.” I put my hand between them, using my Big Magic VoiceTM to make my skin glow. Sometimes, the Twins still needed a reminder that I’d come into my own. “Why don’t you ask Cecelia for help on the design?”
They both stared at me like I’d offered them a map to the Holy Grail without explaining how to read it.
But Cecelia’s excitement rushed through me, so I knew I was on the right track.
“I bet if you include her in the discussions, she’ll have the insight you need.
And maybe she’ll be more willing to let the change happen. ”
There was a new sensation threading through Cecelia I couldn’t quite place. Something sly and crafty. She wanted a hand in the design, proverbially speaking, but there was another reason she hadn’t let them move forward with just their magic that I wasn’t privy to. At least not yet.
The Twins exchanged glances, doing the private communication thing. After a moment, Lydia’s face softened. Not a lot, of course, but enough.
“It’s not your worst idea.” She sneered into her coffee mug. “Stupid Cupid gone yet?”
I pressed my lips firm to keep from responding with my own comeback.
He was frustrating the hell out of me, sure, but Cupid was still a client.
And clients had privacy rights. Brianne only knew because I’d let it slip on Thanksgiving.
We’d had a lovely family holiday, during which I witnessed just how despondent Nate had become.
After a bottle, or two, of wine, Brianne had vented her frustrations to me while we chatted on the porch.
I wasn’t proud of myself, but I’d blurted out that I knew why it was happening.
I’d been more careful with my liquor since then, though in the December board meeting we’d discussed it at a high-level. Part of our new coven experience was sharing more details about our clientele, and trusting one another to handle them with delicacy.
Delicacy was not Lydia’s strong suit.
“She can’t help herself, Simone.” Lyra patted my hand absently.
“We can feel your frustration like it’s our own.
There’s this sort of … cage inside our stomachs.
Like something is trapped there. And we can sense the pull it has whenever he shows up.
We’re all feeling the effects of his issues in our own ways.
” She lifted an amused eyebrow at her sister. “Aren’t we, sis?”
Lydia scowled at her, opening her mouth to take yet another jab at her sister.
I braced myself for more of their bickering.
Even though it was sisterly, it was tiresome.
It wasn’t fair to Lyra, but I missed the days when they’d been in sync about everything.
At least then they didn’t fight. Out loud.
Then a gold bowl with ornate trim, fresh out of some Victorian era dining room, dropped onto the center of the table, and cream sloshed out as it rose to the top. Gumbo made a little grunt of excitement and leapt between us. He dove into the cream like he was starving.
With a slight laugh, I adjusted the edges of his hot pink bow to keep them cream-free.
Ever since he’d hocked up that disgusting magic thread during our binding ceremony, Gumbo’s appetite had taken on a new voracity.
He’d always been a hefty boy, but now he could barely move without his belly hitting the ground.
Even after all this time, Gumbo was still a mystery to me.
I didn’t know much about familiars, or his abilities.
Heck, I wasn’t even sure how old he was.
For all I knew, he was supposed to be a fattie and was merely returning to his OG size.
The only thing I could say for sure was that his large-cream-bowl farts could clear a room.
After a shared look with the Twins, who’d experienced that particular sour event themselves, we let conversation drop and parted ways.
They were at each other’s throats again before they reached their doors.
I gave Gumbo one last scritch behind his ear, wincing a bit when his tummy rumbled, then headed to my office.
But not before opening my phone and adding a few notes to it. The first was to try and find out more about my Gumbo in the codex. The second was to discuss patient respect at the next board meeting.
That thought made my tension headache return, and it brought friends.
The issues with Cupid were extending beyond normal therapy, and I’d need my coven to sort things out.
But our next meeting was our quarterly, which meant Ethan would be there.
I was not looking forward to another awkward encounter with a wolf shifter.