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

by Heloise Hull

  Coronis and Thessaly walked in together. Coronis was laughing, and even Thessaly was in good spirits. Her mouth wasn’t all frowny. More of a straight line.

  “I’ll meet you outside with drinks, cara mia.”

  I opened the door for everyone, and the boys stumbled out, their eyes snagged on the siren. The blue hair was fairly easy to explain. “Hippie hair dye,” I’d whispered the first day. The purple eyes were a little less easy. “She wears colored contact lenses,” I’d tried, grasping for straws. The smell of the ocean, the faint blue glow, the hum of power. Well, I just hoped they didn’t notice.

  Whatever the boys saw, they were captivated.

  “Where’s Aurick?” Coronis asked, watching them watch Thessaly with an amused expression.

  Frowning, I considered. “He’s been making himself scarce.” I dearly hoped it was because he was giving me space to enjoy the little time I had with my sons and not for some other reason. Like being frightened of me. Or tired of me. Or whatever other anxiety-ridden reason my brain might conjure to explain his absence. He tended to do that. Disappear without an explanation. I gave him some leeway since he’d been on his own for centuries, but that mummy was going to be a bit of a fixer-upper.

  Thankfully, Marco saved me from my thoughts with a giant tray of espresso martinis and two sweating glasses that looked suspiciously like negronis. The boys lunged, and I threw my arm out to stop them. “Sorry, but they’re underage. Perhaps a spritzer?”

  Before they even had the chance to complain, Marco did it for them. “Loosen up, Ava. It’s Italy! We don’t have the same sensibilities that you Americans do. Let them have one drink under your supervision. Isn’t that better than bingeing alone?”

  “I, well—” I began, flustered. I looked around for help. No one offered it. Instead, I got eight pairs of eyes pleading back at me. “Fine. One drink with dinner. And don’t go sneaking a second,” I warned, as much for the supernaturals as for the boys.

  Marco set out plates of his delicious appetizers, including melon with prosciutto, a modern caprese with burrata and tomato confit, Kalamata and artichoke focaccia, and an elegant white dish. “This is a fluke crudo with homemade preserved lemons, sweetened cherries in syrup, and a drizzle of olive oil.”

  “What’s crudo?” Jacob asked.

  “Honestly, I have no idea,” I admitted.

  “Raw fish, plucked straight from the sea,” Thessaly announced, scooping a large portion straight into her mouth. She certainly had taken to eating these past few weeks, and it was a little terrifying to watch her teeth sharpen to points at the sight of fresh fish.

  The boys took big gulps of their negronis, their eyes wide. There was one advantage to letting them drink. It might loosen their tongue. I still hadn’t forgotten about the time Thessaly had caught one of them in a hot and heavy make-out session while she was keeping watch over them.

  “So, any special lady friends?” I asked casually. “Friends that are girls? Friends that you only see alone? That sort of friend?” Okay, so not too casually.

  “Why don’t you ask Josh?” Jacob said.

  Definite bitterness detected, but now I had a target. “Josh?”

  Josh looked sheepishly at his plate. “It’s nothing.”

  I ping-ponged between the boys. That wasn’t the vibe I was getting. Jacob’s lip curled in a way that was a little too reminiscent of their father, but I understood why. A girl had come between the twins. “What’s her name?” I asked gently.

  Jacob snorted. “Little Mermaid.”

  Josh stood up quickly, his bistro chair falling backwards. “Her name is Ariel. Stop it.”

  “I bet she’d like crudo. Just like a real mermaid. Oh, but she likes everything you like,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice that was clearly meant to sound like this Ariel. Really, though. It was an unfortunate name.

  I stared slack-jawed. They’d always argued, but not like this. This felt personal, and I was powerless to stop it. “Boys.”

  They ignored me. Hell, I’d ignore me, too. I had no conviction in my voice. I was too shocked.

  “She follows us around like a groupie,” Jacob complained. “I can’t even hear myself think, because she’s thinking out loud all day, every day.”

  “You’re just jealous—”

  I clapped my hands and let mother magic stream through my fingers ever so slightly. Warm, nurturing, all-enveloping. The boys fell silent at once, blinking slowly. I felt a rush of guilt for magicking them without them knowing, but also wistful. This would have come in handy when they were little boys.

  “That’s enough,” I said quietly. “No more talk of Ariel. I’m sure she’s lovely, Josh. I look forward to meeting her.” I turned to Jacob. “Instead of complaining about your brother, let’s talk about you. What are you thinking in terms of your major? Are there any classes you’ve enjoyed more than others?”

  Jacob toyed with the edge of his glass, running his fingers through the condensation. “Not really.”

  “Nothing? Weren’t you thinking about astronomy?”

  “That was a kid thing. I’m not really interested in outer space anymore.”

  I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry, which was weird since I also felt like I was drowning. Why was this all going so poorly?

  “I’m sure there will be lots of interesting classes in the future,” Rosemary said quickly.

  “Right,” Coronis added, taking up the baton. “Why, it took me centuries to get into acting!”

  “Centuries?” Jacob asked.

  “Ages,” I said quickly. “She meant ages. Idioms, you know? They’re so hard to translate between languages.”

  “Oh, right.”

  For the main course, Marco brought us a beautiful platter of rosemary and balsamic marinated beef tenderloin and a plate of something decadent and creamy looking. “Paciugo. It means ‘mush’ in Italian, but,” he added at the boys’ upturned noses, “it tastes much better than it sounds. In fact, it’s a lot like gelato. This is whipped egg whites folded with mascarpone and espresso. The egg yolks are also whipped and folded with mascarpone and layered with the meringue. Finally, there are crushed amaretti cookies in the middle and a drizzle of maple syrup for sweetness, which I then left to freeze the last few hours. Buon appetito!”

  “This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” Josh declared, finally un-clamming for the first time since Jacob made fun of his girlfriend. Good to know what did it. Dessert. He was truly my son.

  “You said that about the bombolonis this morning,” I pointed out. “Which I made, I might add.”

  “We’re still not convinced,” Josh teased.

  “You watched me!”

  “And it was like magic,” said Jacob.

  My eye twitched uncontrollably, but the boys were already laughing about some of my more spectacular cooking failures over the years.

  “Remember when smoke poured out of the oven because she forgot to take the fried chicken out of the bag?”

  “And the neighbors called the fire department!” Josh added.

  Rosemary looked astonished. “Seriamente? The house burned down?”

  “Nah, but we did have to get a new oven,” Jacob said.

  They roared with laughter, even Rosemary, who was surely thinking about her own ovens. It was a good thing she was so trusting in the beginning, and that I’d already proven myself.

  We were all wiping away tears of laughter when I noticed it. And fervently fought back. Not here. I needed this moment with my sons laughing on a little Italian island to enjoy and remember forever. But there was something that inked in the spaces in between. Blink and it was a play of the lights, flickering faintly from tea candles. But why did it smell of incense, cassia, and cinnamon?

  My eyes began to water from trying to keep them open. It was a voice that wavered on the wind. I strained to hear what it was saying and whether it was male or female, but I couldn’t.

  The boys followed my gaze, their eyes concerned. �
�Something wrong, Mom?”

  I shook my head. “Just a little light-headed. These martinis are strong. Which tells me I should stop now,” I said a little sanctimoniously, but hey. Could you blame me? A mother has to try. “I think we’ll call it a night. Tell Marco it was delicious and we’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

  There were hugs and kisses and promises to come to the twins’ birthday celebration tomorrow. I hated how much I was looking forward to it. Once it finished, they could go home, safe and sound.

  I looked over my shoulder once more from the direction of the mirage and my neck prickled. I could have sworn I heard it leave a promise.

  We will be together again, little wolf.

  Chapter Six

  The boys were still sleeping, and after so rudely waking them the day before, on their winter vacation no less, I decided to let them sleep in. It was their birthday, after all.

  Okay, fine. I really wanted to talk to Nonna and Tiberius alone. Voices had begun to diffuse my dreams, and while they weren’t outright visions or memories like last time, they were still disturbing.

  Unfortunately, not even the birds were awake yet, so I slipped outside to take in the early morning air. I should probably be worried about the not-sleeping thing, but it could wait until the boys were safely back at school.

  I pulled one of Nonna’s shawls around my shoulders and headed toward the cypress grove. With the lulling sound of the waves and the intense pine scents, it had become one of my go-to places for a morning walk. Needles crunched under my feet and a lute played softly somewhere along my left.

  Wait.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Piero?” I whispered in the chilly morning air, searching for my Renaissance Romancer.

  The diminutive, medieval man shimmered to life, his fingers sliding up and down the instrument’s strings. “Oh Ava, is that you? How wonderful.”

  “You can’t fool me, Piero. I know you still watch me sleep.”

  “If you’d actually sleep, I would. While I don’t remember every detail of my mortal coil, I do recall sleeping more than a palmful of hours.”

  I grimaced. When a ghost has opinions about your sleep schedule, you knew it was off.

  Piero continued, “You aren’t pleasuring yourself as much anymore, either. It’s not healthy to hold all that fire inside, milady. My offer to serenade you always stands.”

  “Boundaries, Piero. You need boundaries. And there’s a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

  Piero plucked a three-note tune. “Does it have to do with that hulking mummy?”

  “Aurick?”

  Piero shrugged. “Is that his name? I can’t see the appeal of offensively broad shoulders and hair the color of straw after a horse has shorn the nutritious grain and chaff.”

  “You mean blonde.”

  Piero waved a dismissive hand. “If you insist.”

  “Out of perfectly normal curiosity, have you seen him around lately?” I thought about his distance, trying not to let it get to me.

  “Sì. He’s over there,” Piero pointed.

  “He’s what?”

  “Right there. I can see his oversized head from here.”

  “You can?”

  “My eyes are excellent, milady.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  Piero tucked away his lute, by which I mean it disappeared to my eyes. “I believe he’s conversing with another human.”

  “Are you serious?” If I was looking for a little pick-me-up this morning, I’d found it. My heart fluttered at the implications, and suspicion cornered my thoughts. “Piero, didn’t you say you worked for the Medici family?”

  “You presume I spied.”

  “Well… yes.”

  Piero flicked back the feather in his cap and straightened his doublet. “Very well. I could always have a little listen if that’s what milady requires in order to settle down and stoke the flames of desire.”

  I shooed him forward. “Yes, yes. Just go quietly and listen. Report back everything that you can.”

  Piero disappeared in a wisp of air, and I was left to pace around the trees. What the hell was Aurick up to? I wanted to trust him beyond a shadow of a doubt, but the past few weeks had made that a bit more difficult. My entire life had changed course, and trust was now a preciously-earned commodity.

  I needed to see for myself. Just a glance. Enough to identify his companion. Nothing more.

  I moved as silently as possible over the brittle pine needles, tip-toeing from tree to tree until I saw Aurick half-hidden in a gulley. Okay, Piero had a point. His head was rather large. Still, I didn’t see anyone else. Had my Renaissance Romancer merely been trying to make me jealous?

  Yet, it was deeply suspicious that Aurick was up at this hour, let alone taking a walk. He liked his sleep as much as me. No, that wasn’t right. He was a mummy, meaning he was practically a professional sleeper.

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  Carefully, I crept closer and caught a few words of a conversation. It sounded heated. Something about danger and last chance.

  Aurick threw up his hands in disgust, and I finally saw the outline of his companion. He had a shaved head with runes that glowed a ghostly blue in the subdued early morning light.

  And he hated me.

  Chapter Seven

  It was clear Manu was astral projecting from some other location, presumably St. Louis. He clutched his bone dagger in one fist, and from the menace on his face, it was clear he wouldn’t mind using it to gut Aurick.

  I still couldn’t hear much and didn’t want to risk getting closer, so I slunk back the way I’d come and waited for Piero.

  “It’s just work stuff,” I told myself. “Nothing more than an astral cooler conversation.” They were colleagues still, which was hard to believe. I couldn't think of two less similar men. Aurick had principles. He had a moral compass he followed, even if doing the right thing meant doing the hard thing. Manu, on the other hand, would rather die by a rulebook clocking him over the head than bend an unjust rule.

  Unless…

  Would Aurick choose his job, the only family he’d had for decades, over me? A woman he’d just met? One that tried to squish an innocent guard and then killed a Council member? Was it even a hard choice?

  I snuck back inside the villa so Aurick wouldn’t see me. My whole body hummed, and I felt like bouncing off the walls. I was never very good at waiting.

  Finally, Piero appeared, bowing.

  “What were they saying?” I whisper-demanded.

  “The large, aggressive one without any sense of fashion was interrogating Aurick. Apparently, the mummy is running a great risk by associating with you. They’ve demanded his return to the Arch. If not, he faces disbarment, whatever that may be. Perhaps he meant dismemberment?”

  The sour feeling in my stomach grew. Aurick was protecting me at a great personal cost.

  “What else?”

  “They argued for a while, but your mummy staunchly defended your character. He says you are not a danger, you are only protective, and the Council would be apt to make you a friend.” Piero sniffed. “I must admit it was all very romantic, although I hasten to add that I would do the same.”

  “Noted. You are a true gentleman. Anything else?”

  “I believe the other man has tried to come to the island on at least one occasion. Threats were exchanged, crudely, if I may add.”

  Manu tried to come here? And Aurick stopped him? My mind whirred. He would certainly try again.

  “Thank you, Piero. You’ve been a huge help.”

  He bowed. “If there are no more nefarious or amorous activities planned for the day, I believe I shall go sing to some sheep.”

  I said goodbye, hoping that was all he was about to do to those poor sheep, and made my way to the kitchen. While I was thankful Aurick had my back, I wished he would confide in me. He didn’t have to carry it all on his own anymore. Unless he was afraid to confide in me. That was possible. It was a bit of a whiplash to go
from being ignored at the office all day in St. Louis to a scary powerful woman, but surely I could find a middle-ground.

  Eventually.

  I could tell I was about to go in circles with myself for the rest of the morning, so instead, I changed into jeans and went to see if Nonna was awake. I found her in the kitchen stirring something citrusy.

  “Buongiorno, Nonna.”

  Her hair was still in pink curlers, but she had on a full face of makeup and an astonishing array of jewelry.

  “Buongiorno, Mamma. Come, taste my new orange jam. I only used the peels and juice.” She lifted a wooden spoon to my lips. A bright, tart flavor burst on my tongue. “Eh?” she asked, searching my face.

  My cheeks puckered, but it was delicious. “Wonderful. What do you eat it with?”

  “Shortbread cookies, I’d say. More of a dessert jam. Now sit down. Tell me how the pups are. I know you went through a lot at the Arch. Aurick filled me in a bit.”

  I winced at the memory of Mestjet. I always would. “The twins are good. Sort of. I don’t know. Maybe I’m more attuned to it now that I know all of my twins were—” here I lowered my voice barely above a whisper, just in case, “—doomed, but they seem to argue more than usual.”

  “Hm. It could be the curse asserting itself,” Nonna agreed. “Only they could tell us if they started arguing more once you touched Thoth and received your magic.”

  “Oh my God. I’m the worst mother in the world. I knew it. I sacrificed their happiness for magic.”

  Nonna smacked my shoulder with a wooden spoon. “Leave the dramatics to Tiberius, per favore.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Tiberius said, emerging from his nest by the hearth oven. He stretched out his front paws and twitched his back leg in a well practiced tic.

  Nonna ignored him. “How could you have known? It’s not your fault.”

  “I’m their mother. I should have known. Or at least guessed that my actions would have consequences.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s no reason to think they will manifest any magical powers. Did they in any of your past lives?”