Making Midlife Mistakes: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Forty Is Fabulous Book 3)

by Heloise Hull

  “Call if you need me,” she said before slinking back into the shadows.

  I began my slow descent through the tunnel, trepidation clinging to my every movement. Yes, I had way more firepower than the last time, but that didn’t stop the chills from skittering across my skin. I knew what was there now. A vengeful and terrifying god.

  Hopefully, a very sleepy one as well.

  As I sank deeper into the earth, my thoughts followed, swirling down the rabbit hole. Alice and her Wonderland had nothing on my life at the moment. I had scared myself in the Council chamber. If it weren’t for Luca, I would have crushed that beetle under my foot and enjoyed the sound of the crunch. That was still in me, that yearning, and it scared me.

  Worse, I didn’t know what to think about Nonna anymore. She’d been my closest confidant. The first to welcome me and the one to help me access my powers. Yet, she’d done the exact opposite of what I’d asked her to do. Perhaps she was getting senile. Was there any way to tell an astral-projecting, ancient creature to take it easy without waking up in Antarctica?

  I arrived at the fork and followed it left toward the chamber, continually reaching out little tentacles of awareness. Nothing felt different. I prayed that meant Thoth was still sleeping or dying, or whatever it was he’d been doing for centuries.

  I had been so naïve the last time I’d reached this fork. So eager to secure my new powers. Now, nothing was as it seemed. Danger lurked everywhere, including inside myself, and the stakes soared in some game I didn’t even know I was playing.

  The ultimate prize? Killing a god. Avoiding a curse. Surviving.

  For now, I would settle on destroying the archon, thereby cutting off the means to communicate with the other realms. That was the most important task. One worth fighting for. It was the only thing that would keep everyone I loved safe. The status-quo may have worked for hundreds of years, but I had enough experience in life to know that everything fails at some point. It was better to accept that and be proactive than stick my head in the sand and wait for the inevitable.

  My hands shook as I flipped open the latch and pushed my way into the chamber. It radiated that same sense of absence that I remembered from my last visit, like all sound and light was being pulled into its essence, hiding this place in a void. But I had found it. Then and now.

  Yes, and I will always find you.

  I jumped, my head swiveling back and forth. I probably peed a little bit too. Thoth hadn’t moved, but I could have sworn…

  I scooted closer for a better look, careful not to accidentally touch him, not even with my loosely hanging split ends. From here, I could see the black hieroglyphs along his biceps wiggle ever so slightly. Blink and I would’ve missed it. Or was it my imagination? The longer I stared, the less they moved.

  I was the only living thing here, and I felt like I was going mad.

  He stayed immobile, like stone, his face still the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But I knew. I knew what he really was. Evil. Depraved. He lived without the slightest bit of remorse as all truly immortal beings seemed to do.

  My fingers itched to wrap around his neck, but I quickly recoiled at the sudden onslaught of bloodlust. I shook my head, urging the rage to dim, to dampen, sucking oxygen away from its flame. Besides, if I had to kill him, I wanted to do it right and that would require research. A mistake wasn’t something I could afford.

  Right now, nothing mattered except that Thoth was doing a spot-on interpretation of Sleeping Beauty. As long as no one kissed him, we were good. My boys could stay for their birthday, but I wouldn’t feel safe until they were back on a plane to the States.

  Speaking of which, how did they get here so fast? Did Nonna seriously astral project with them in tow? And they didn’t have questions, comments, concerns? That seemed a little suspicious.

  I took one last, long look at the complete stillness of Thoth’s body before going back the way I came. Aurick was right. Nothing had changed.

  Carefully, I wound my way through the tunnel, pausing every few feet to shake out my aching wrists. Half-way up the stone path, I heard a faint noise, like someone hammering a nail in a coffin with the sole of their shoe. I began to crawl faster, surging forward, my heart beating in time to the thuds, which grew louder and more insistent. In the distance, I could see the door shaking under the force of the blows. Someone on the other side was hammering the gate with inhuman strength.

  Thessaly.

  Chapter Three

  I scurried upwards through the sloping tunnel like a deranged baby, ignoring the painful stone grinding into my knees. With a grunt and a tug, I yanked open the door and caught Thessaly as she fell.

  “What happened?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  We were both prattling as quickly as possible, which was crazy. Thessaly didn’t say more than two sentences unless we pried it out of her like an abscessed tooth. She stepped back, appraising me quietly. “You disappeared.”

  “Seriously? I’m invisible?” That would’ve come in handy as a mom, but I’d had enough surprises with my powers lately. I didn’t need “inadvertently disappears” added to the list.

  “What? No. I mean I couldn’t feel your presence anymore.”

  “Oh,” I said, some part of me a little disappointed.

  “I tried to find you, but I couldn’t, and I couldn’t get in, either. You were down there completely alone.”

  A chill settled across my bones. I wouldn’t have known until it was too late.

  “Perhaps it’s warded against demons,” I ventured, self-consciously glancing up at the glittering mosaic of the siren in the basilica’s apse.

  “Or perhaps it’s just for you.”

  “That would be inconvenient,” I said, remembering the blood debt I had to pay in the crystal room in the Library. Only my blood would activate it. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together. I was sure of it, but I felt too incompetent to figure out how. I had spent hours staring and twisting the pieces this way and that, but the bigger picture always eluded me.

  “Well, Thoth is still in his weird stasis. He’s not breathing, but he’s definitely not dead. I swear that I saw the black hieroglyphs on his body move.”

  “That’s good,” Thessaly said, back to her typical laconic self.

  We left the basilica together, the Italian sunshine immediately lightening the moment. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Even in winter, the island’s warmth and the smell of its salty trade winds brightened my mood and softened my sharp edges.

  In the space of two heartbeats, it sounded like Aradia whispered through the cypress trees and caressed my cheeks. My eyes popped open and I glanced toward the sea. The island was another mystery I couldn’t quite put my finger on. One minute, she literally brought me to my knees. And the next? She gave me a second chance at life and helped me trust again.

  “Let’s head back,” I said. I’d celebrate with my sons, send them home, and figure out how to kill the archon. Hopefully, Thoth would continue to sleep.

  With the damn fishes.

  Coronis had offered Thessaly a room in her apartment, so the boys stayed in Thessaly’s bedroom upstairs. The next morning, I crept inside and watched them for a few giddy moments before waking them.

  “Rise and shine. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey. Get it? Because we’re going to go bake.”

  Nobody moved. I thought about jumping on their bed, returning the favor from their early years, but decided on Nice Mom instead. I brushed their hair from their foreheads and told them what I used to say every morning when they were little. “It’s time to get up. You don’t have to be your best, but you do have to try your best.”

  When that didn’t work, I flicked the lights on and off and threw pillows at their heads. “Daylight is burning. Get your lazy butts up!”

  “What time is it?” they both groaned.

  “Four in the morning. You said you wanted to see the bakery
with me, remember?”

  “No. I can’t even remember my name,” Jacob complained, rolling back over and pulling the covers over his head.

  I rolled my eyes and tried coaxing again. “There’s espresso. And biscotti. With pistachios and chocolate drizzled over them.”

  Jacob started snoring, and I gave his brother a look. “Do you want to come?”

  Josh yawned and stumbled out of bed. “Yes, we’ll both come.” He unceremoniously ripped the covers from Jacob, and I left them to argue and get dressed.

  Rosemary had said it was fine to bring the boys, but I had seen the hint of trepidation at the idea of letting others help, especially two teenagers. “It took me sixty-eight years to perfect my technique,” she’d told me. “That’s literally four times longer than they’ve been alive, sweet heart. Are you sure they’re ready?”

  And when she’d said that, she wasn’t talking about baking puff pastry or something complicated like that. She was talking about her technique for sweeping up the floor to make sure no flour dust got left behind. It was a miracle she’d invited me to join her all those months ago, but that was okay. Change was good for her. It was good for everyone.

  As for me, a little oblivion was on the agenda. Thanks to whatever chipmunk magic Tiberius had done on me, I couldn’t remember my dreams anymore, but I still got vague impressions of glowing hieroglyphs and glittering reed barges sailing down a mighty river every time I crawled back onto the shore of consciousness each morning. I was looking forward to forgetting about it all for a bit and, I’ll admit it, showing the boys what I’d learned.

  The boys were bundled in borrowed scarves, their breaths ever so slightly visible in the chilled January air. Besides Nonna, Aurick, and, briefly, Thessaly, which was fun to explain, they hadn’t met any other supernaturals yet. They didn’t suspect a thing, and I wasn’t sure how to approach it. Hey boys, guess what? Every time you told me, “Okay Boomer,” you were even less accurate than you thought, because I’m almost three thousand years old. Joke’s on you, suckers!

  For some reason, I didn’t think that would go over well. No. Magic was a non-starter until they finished college and had their own lives. I was firm on that.

  I swung my legs over the Vespa as Jacob held out his hand. I gave him a low five.

  He frowned. “You owe us two hundred bucks.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sober sheriff, remember?”

  I thought back to our deal, counting the days on my fingers since that conversation. “It’s been three weekends.”

  The twins suddenly got interested in the island’s beauty, taking in the sea swirling in the distance.

  “I see. Well, you should have read the fine print.”

  “It was a phone conversation. There wasn’t any fine print.”

  “I whispered it.”

  “That’s not fair!” they protested in unison, one hundred percent awake now.

  “I’m your mom. I don’t have to play fair. Also, you don’t even know what I’m referring to.”

  “Fine. What’s in the fine print?” Jacob asked, looking pained to do so.

  “If you skip a weekend, you owe me one-hundred bucks.”

  “That’s—”

  I revved the Vespa, drowning out their complaints. “I hope you learned a valuable lesson.”

  “What's that?” Josh shouted. “Never trust our mother?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You learned that it pays to be safe. Now, who wants to ride with me?”

  As we made our way into town, the boys grumbled and I begged Aradia not to throw us from our bikes or open a sinkhole beneath our wheels or whatever else she liked to do to newcomers. Perhaps it was the early hour, but we arrived in front of the square with no incidents. I pointed out the fountain, Mak’s honey shop, the taverna, and watched with pride as they came to the same conclusion about this place. Aradia felt like home.

  I produced a large, bronze key to Rosemary’s Bakery. Everything was as I remembered. The classic black and white floor gleamed and smelled like a bowl of fresh lemons. The marble refrigerated case was empty and swept clean of crumbs, waiting for our decadent creations. I showed the boys how to turn on the espresso machine and the antique cash register that, frankly, no one used.

  “Wow! This is pretty cool, Mom. How come you never baked for us?” they asked, sipping their caffé macchiatos.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t know I could. Rosemary is a great teacher. She’ll be here in an hour or so. Since I’ve started working for her, she takes a few mornings off a week to sleep in.”

  “Five a.m. is not sleeping in,” Jacob corrected.

  “It is to her. Now wash up and get your aprons on. We’re baking.”

  I showed them how to whip cream and toast pistachios and hazelnuts. I helped them sprinkle flour with one wrist flick and demonstrated how to roll the pizza dough without it shrinking. Again, all in the wrist. There was even a brief flour fight that left us all gasping in laughter.

  We had just started cleaning up when Rosemary arrived. To her credit, her smile only faltered for a second before gluing it back on her face like a manic clown. “Buongiorno, Ava. And these must be your twins! Let me see…” She took them each by the cheek and studied their faces, wiping away a few errant blotches of flour. “Hmmm… you must be Josh. And you must be Jacob,” she finally decided.

  “How’d you know?” Josh asked.

  “Yeah, most of our teachers can’t even tell us apart yet.”

  Rosemary smiled. “Your mom talks about you a lot, and I pay close attention to details. It’s my nature.”

  I took Rosemary by the shoulder and led her to the front of the cafe, far from the mess in the kitchen. “Why don’t you finish wiping down, boys?” I said, pointing with my eyes at all the spots they missed. “I’m going to ask Rosemary about today’s specials.”

  “Darling, how are you coping?” she asked once we were out of earshot, her left eye only twitching a little. It was real growth considering her own baking space always felt closer to a sterile operating room than a kitchen.

  “I’m fine for now. Anxious to get the boys back. There’s this sense of foreboding weight on my chest that I can’t shake.” I handed her a porcelain cup full of hot espresso. “Nonna said she put some sort of glamor over their eyes to keep the supernatural hidden, although Spyro still worries me. How are the boys not going to notice cloven hooves?”

  “Magic, darling.”

  “What about the two-and-a-half-foot penis?”

  “Really strong magic.”

  “Right, well, I hope it works. I don’t want even one speck of fairy dust to glitter near them. Nothing. They’re going to enjoy their eighteenth birthday and then go back to college.”

  I looked over to where they were arguing about how to properly remove caked-on flour. Rosemary looked proud, but was it just my imagination or were their arguments getting more frequent? Was it the curse slowly speeding toward its inevitable conclusion—death, whether by murder or disease—or was I being paranoid?

  “Ava?”

  I snapped back from picturing Typhoid Fever flavored peach ice cream and Black Plague-infected squirrels to see Rosemary watching me worriedly. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s been a lot.”

  “Do you want to go home and enjoy the boys while they’re here?” she asked.

  “And lose a chance to show off my new-found skills? Hardly. I’ll show them around town later.”

  “If you insist.” Rosemary was trying very hard not to go full blown harpy on us. I could see the veins in her neck churning as she resisted the urge.

  “Oh, darlings, not like that,” she burst, hustling over to rearrange the cups and take the washcloth from the boys’ hands. “Why don’t you two young men sit down and relax? This is your vacation, right? Go on now. Shoo and pick out something sweet.”

  I rolled my eyes, but smiled. Once a harpy, always a harpy.

  After that, the crowds got thicker and there was no time to talk. The boys most
ly watched as I took orders and taught them the difference between a latte macchiato and a caffè macchiato. They only yawned a few times, so I considered it a rousing success.

  Until some of our regulars entered.

  I flung into action the minute Spyro strode in. He still insisted on wearing his crown, except now he’d fashioned one of actual twigs and berries to go around his forehead.

  “Boys, go grab more cornettos, please,” I said, pretending to be out.

  The moment they were gone, I poured an Americano, slugged it at the satyr, and ushered him toward the door. But he resisted.

  “Not so fast. I don’t know what I want today.”

  “You get the same thing every day, Spyro.”

  “I was thinking of changing it up.”

  “Of course you were.” I leaned in and gave him the full charm. “But I made this one specially for you.”

  “Well, look at that,” he said, waggling his impressive, caterpillar-like eyebrows at me. “Finally a little respect and appreciation around this place.” He cuddled up to my side, putting an arm around my waist. His eyes came to my navel and his twig crown got snagged on my blouse. “And Ava,” he said, untangling it, “you swing by my shop any time you need a little pick me up of your own.”

  I cringed. I did not know what he sold, nor did I ever want to. “Thanks for the offer, Spyro. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.”

  He whirled around, forcing me to jump out of the way of his swinging penis. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to go, though. What’s this tart thing?”

  “No better than the sfogliatella you always get,” I said, getting antsier as I heard footsteps approaching behind me.

  A second later, the boys appeared with an armful of cornettos. Spyro gave them a once over. “You procreated,” he said, turning to me. “The grown zygotes have your eyes.”

  Josh snorted. “Zygotes? You know your zipper is down, right?”