Minions and Magic: Accidental Witches Book 5

by Dunbar, Debra

  Carrot ginger puree. Coleslaw. Potato salad. Couscous with chopped kale and halved cherry tomatoes. My special salsa with home-made tortilla chips. Brisket, pulled pork, fried chicken, grilled salmon, and two enormous prime ribs. Just thinking of it nearly gave me an anxiety attack. I had less than twenty-four hours to get all this together. There was no time to mope over a sexy demon. There was no time to do anything except cook.

  I checked the pork loins and pulled them from the smoker. The salmon would be grilled early Saturday before the event, and the prime ribs would go in the oven tonight to slow-cook. The most time-consuming dish on my list was the chicken, but I wanted to wait until later this afternoon to start breading and frying that.

  In the meantime, there was one more alpha I needed to prepare a special dessert for, and she was the most important of all. Tink might not be an official alpha of either pack, but as Dallas’ new mate, her voice carried a lot of authority in his pack. She liked chocolate. And I knew the perfect thing to create in her honor.

  Warming three different styles in double boilers on my stove, I began to ice down the giant marble slab where I made my candies. Then I grabbed a set of truffle molds from under the counter. Using a high-quality set of small paint brushes, I coated the molds in chocolate, then put them in the fridge to cool.

  I yawned, finally feeling tired enough to sleep, but I couldn’t go to bed now with only half my truffles made. Making a pot of coffee to keep me going, I prepared three different types of cream filling for the truffles. A few cups of coffee later and I’d added the filling to the chilled, chocolate-coated molds, then poured additional chocolate on top to create the candies. They all went back into the fridge.

  Even with the coffee, exhaustion was starting to creep over me. I glanced at the clock, realizing I could only squeeze in a three-hour block of sleep before I needed to get to work on the rest of the food. It would have to be enough. I checked on everything I’d prepared, then headed to my bedroom, shedding my clothes as I walked. I don’t remember getting into bed, so I’m sure I was out the moment my head hit the pillow.

  And thankfully, I slept without any dreams of sexy demons.

  Chapter 19

  Glenda

  I maneuvered my van up the steep mountain road, taking care to avoid any ruts or bumps that might disrupt the carefully packed food that filled the entire back of my vehicle. I was operating on that three-hour nap, then another three hours last night. Thankfully a pot of good coffee had revived me in time to finish the chicken, grill the salmon, and get everything loaded. This was a huge catering job for me. It wasn’t the largest or the most complex I’d ever pulled off, but it was the most important. The peace between the werewolf packs and their integration into Accident was a pivotal point in our town’s history. This barbeque cemented what was to be the “new” Accident, the “new” werewolf culture, our future.

  And, of course, there was that little matter of the brisket contest and my soul.

  The barbeque was to be held in the area of Heartbreak Mountain that Dallas had gifted as public land for all werewolves regardless of pack affiliation or status. The rules were that none could live there, and that applications for use needed to be filed with Barbara at the Sheriff’s office. Barbara was a selkie and her decades of work for Sheriff Oakes made her perfect for keeping the schedule and dealing with any conflicts that might arise. So far the only events on the calendar for Full Moon Forest were this barbeque and the monthly hunts. Everyone seemed uncertain about usage, but I foresaw the land being used for weddings, birthdays, family reunions, and all sorts of celebrations that would welcome not just werewolves, but other Accident residents as well.

  Turning a sharp corner in the dirt road, I saw the giant clearing between the trees. Easing my van through the entrance, I pulled over to the spot designated for the buffet line and parked my vehicle. I was the only one here, just me and my van amid a bunch of pop-up tents for shade and twelve lines of long tables with chairs.

  I was arriving early, setting up chafing dishes as well as worrying myself into a state of near panic. Had I forgotten the ice cream for the apple pies? Was the refrigeration unit in my van keeping the salads and chocolate cool enough? Did I have enough propane for the smoker I’d trailered in?

  Would I lose my soul to a demon today?

  I shoved that into the back of my mind. The brisket for the contest was prepped and ready for the smoker. Whatever happened from this point forward was out of my hands. I’d win, or I wouldn’t. And hopefully if I didn’t, my sisters could leverage their relationships and get me the hell equivalent of the white glove treatment.

  After a few hours Desiree arrived with a truckload of beer and sodas, as well as decorations. Where I specialized in catering, the mermaid’s business was logistics and beverages, overall party planning, and decorations. We worked together on a good number of events in Accident, and I occasionally ran across her while doing parties on the other side of the wards. If she recommended me for a job, I usually gave her a finder’s fee—which was always sashimi. Mermaids loved their raw fish.

  “Hey, Glenda! Figured you’d be here early.” Desiree gave me a wave, then directed the two minotaurs who were unloading kegs and coolers for her.

  I double checked the tie-downs for the buffet line tents then waved back. “I’ve got some sangria for us to taste-test if we get done before everyone starts arriving.”

  Her laugh sounded like a porpoise, always making me giggle. “Then we better finish before everyone starts arriving.”

  We both worked in silence. Her minotaur helpers drove off once the kegs and coolers were all set up, and Desiree got to work with beads, streamers, and centerpieces. I’d finished and was just putting the brisket in the smoker when her minotaurs returned, this time with a giant crate. They struggled to unload it, then pried the wood apart and began brushing the sawdust from a huge ice sculpture that took my breath away.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed, stopping what I was doing to gawk at the sculpture. It was two six-foot wolves, chins touching as they raised their heads in a howl. They were beautifully done, each one bearing a striking resemblance to the resident alphas.

  “You like?” Desiree grinned.

  “Heck yeah. Who shelled out for that?” I asked, thinking the sculpture must have cost a small fortune.

  “Tink.”

  I blinked. “Tink?”

  I couldn’t imagine Dallas’ new mate spending so much money on such a thing. Plus Tink wasn’t a wealthy wolf—none of them really were. Why an ice sculpture?

  “This peace is more important than Dallas or Clinton realize,” a voice behind me chimed in. “Werewolves need to embrace the future.”

  I turned to face Tink. “And the future for werewolves is…?”

  “Collaboration with other supernaturals, even though we continue to honor our customs and history. Respect for those wolves who choose to live outside the pack, or even among the humans. Overcoming our terror of the world outside the wards and learning that there are human things to be admired and enjoyed. Step one is for our two packs to be approachable and welcoming to each other.”

  Basically the same thing we witches wanted. Clearly Tink would be a valuable ally going forward.

  “Well, this ice sculpture is beautiful, and I’m sure both it and the barbeque will help with step one.”

  Tink folded her arms across her chest and looked around with an air of satisfaction. “Everything looks amazing. Back to work everyone! I’ll just snag a piece of this fried chicken you’re putting out and be back with Dallas later.”

  She left and Desiree finished with the decorations and drove back with the minotaurs, promising to come by after the event finished to clean everything up. That left me alone, firing up the smoker, prepping the chaffing dishes, and beginning to set out the food. I could hear Lucien’s SUV coming up the road. Good. They could help me get the rest of the food out. The guests would begin to arrive any minute. Eating and socializing was the focus of the
party, and I wanted to make sure the buffet line was ready when the first hungry attendee arrived.

  Pulling one of the bowls of coleslaw from the portable fridge, I turned and nearly dropped it when I saw Xavier standing right behind me.

  “Where’s your brisket?” It was a stupid thing to ask, but he had no vehicle, no chafing dish, no serving tray, nothing. Just a devilishly handsome demon standing in a field behind my van.

  His smile was wickedly delicious. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll have it here in time for the contest.” Before I could reply he’d taken the bowl of coleslaw from my hands and carried it to the buffet table. “Here?”

  I nodded, my chest aching at how much I missed him. My former resolve began to melt away. The heart wants what the heart wants.

  But love couldn’t grow on a foundation of distrust. And I wasn’t sure I wanted him handling that coleslaw knowing how he’d basically poisoned my slugs.

  I marched over and snatched the coleslaw bowl out of his hands, putting it in a completely different place than I’d intended. “Get out, Xavier. You’re not invited. You can show up for the contest, then leave directly afterward. You’re not welcome here—either at this party, or at my house.”

  “I just want to talk to you for five damned minutes,” he exploded, picking up the coleslaw and moving it to the exact spot I’d wanted it to be. “Five minutes. At least give me that, Glenda.”

  I sucked in a breath, then counted to ten as I let it out. I still cared about this demon. Just his presence made my heart stutter, my legs tremble, my whole body go warm. And that made me just as mad as what he’d done to the slugs.

  At the end of the day, I needed to put this behind me. We might never be lovers or even friends again, but there might be occasions when I’d see him at Cassie’s talking to Lucien, or out and about as he did his crossroads demon business. And if he won this little bet of ours and ended up with my soul, maybe it would be a good thing if I at least showed him I was willing to listen to him for five minutes.

  “Okay.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in little spiky bits here and there. “I know you’re mad about what I do and who I am. There are limits in my ability to change that. I’m a crossroads demon, and besides that I’m a demon. Certain things are part of my job description. But if you tell me what’s acceptable and not to you, I’ll honor those limits.”

  “How about we start with don’t mess with my food?” I shot back, my intentions of being nice and listening going right out the window.

  He shot me a puzzled look. “Okay. That one’s easy. I don’t mess with your food. Next?”

  “I’m serious.” It took a concerted effort not to punch him. “I’ve worked hard to build up a reputation, and I’m very proud of my creations. I know pride is a sin and all that, but sabotaging my food, whether it’s for a client or not, isn’t something I’m going to forgive.”

  “I would never do that.” He scowled. “If I messed something up while helping you in the kitchen, I can assure you it wasn’t intentional.”

  I hesitated, a horrible feeling coming over me. What if it had been an honest mistake? I’d had him doing the slug prep, as well as the sauce. What if he’d accidently grabbed the wrong spice container? Just because he could make a heck of a tasty sandwich didn’t mean he could tell coriander from cardamom.

  “I know demons lie, but I need you to tell me the absolute truth here. Did you intentionally add something to the slugs or the sauce that would make the gnomes sick?”

  Now he looked rather pissed. “No! I’ve never cooked slugs before. I did what you told me to do. I would certainly never intentionally do something that would jeopardize your career. In case you didn’t notice, Glenda, I like you. I more than like you. I want to spend time with you in the kitchen, in bed, in all sorts of other places. Why in the hell do you think I’d do something that would be guaranteed to make you never want to see me again?”

  He was right. I felt like such an idiot. I’d been so afraid of letting myself be vulnerable, about caring and risking my heart, that I’d jumped at the first chance to slam the door on the demon who might be the love of my life. I got scared—scared of my own feelings, scared of my past repeating itself. And I’d made assumptions about him as a demon, and in particular about him as a crossroads demon. My sisters had found love with demons. I would never doubt Lucien’s, Hadur’s, Nash’s, or Eshu’s love and dedication to my sisters. Why did I immediately assume the worst of Xavier?

  “I’m…I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath and prepared to be vulnerable once more, to take a chance on love, on this demon. “I should have talked to you and not just lost my temper and thrown you out. I was embarrassed and humiliated, and I made some horrible assumptions about you.”

  His eyes searched mine. “So this isn’t about what I do as a crossroads demon? You weren’t mad at me because you thought I was out all day trading favors for people’s souls? That I was taking advantage of every loophole in each of my contracts?”

  I shook my head.

  “Instead you were mad because something had gone wrong at your catering job, and you assumed I deliberately tampered with your food to sabotage the event.”

  It was a statement instead of a question. I winced, but kept eye contact and nodded, trying to be brave and take my lumps.

  “I sought you out and flirted with you. I talked about food and life, and spent two days working in a kitchen with you. I had sex with you, spent the night and had breakfast with you in the morning. I told you I’d see you later, that I’d be back and that I wanted more than just one night with you—that I wanted so much more. But in spite of that, you still believed I would deliberately mess with your food to screw up your catering job.”

  I felt myself go hot. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this. All my other relationships fell apart because the guy liked my food more than he liked me, or he just wanted a weekend fling. You’re this hot, sexy, demon, and I…”

  “You couldn’t accept the fact that I thought you were a hot, sexy, witch who I love spending time with? Your food is amazing, but it’s you I care about, Glenda. You.”

  Me. He cared about me. And I’d almost screwed this up beyond repair. I might have screwed this up beyond repair.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  He stared at me for a moment. “Yes, but I need you trust me, or at least talk to me if you’re angry. You can’t shut me out like that. I’d thought you were mad about something completely different. I even went to Lucien for help.”

  My eyes widened. “You went to Lucien and Cassie?” She’d never said one word of this to me, darn her.

  “Just Lucien. We spoke in private. Honestly he wasn’t all that much help.”

  The last was said with a wry grin. I thought what I might do if Lucien had come to me to beg Xavier’s case for him.

  “I wouldn’t have backed down for Lucien,” I told him. “Cassie, yes. Lucien, no.”

  “I didn’t want him to intervene, just to give me some pointers on how to pacify an angry witch.”

  I felt myself blush. “I’m not sure I want to know what he said.”

  Xavier chuckled. “It was basically ‘do whatever she says’.”

  I grinned because that was pretty much the summary of the demon’s relationship with my eldest sister.

  “So…are we friends?” My face was even hotter. Friends? Lovers? What was I supposed to call this thing between us?

  He took my hand and shook it, a solemn expression on his face. “Friends. But don’t think I’m letting you out of this bet we have going. I didn’t slave over this brisket recipe for nothing, you know.”

  I sucked in an alarmed breath. “No! There’s no need to do that. Let’s call the bet off.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Afraid you might lose?”

  I bit back an instinctive denial and realized I was. I was still doubting him, worrying what he might demand if he won our bet. But if this fragile relationship would have any chance
at survival, I’d need to trust—both him and myself.

  I sniffed. “Hardly. I just don’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of my friends and family. I mean, your slugs had the gnomes all puking. Who knows what your brisket will do to a bunch of werewolves?”

  He pointed a finger at me in mock anger. “Those slugs were not my fault. You probably got a batch of expired ones or something. Besides, I don’t know how to make sautéed slugs, or whatever, but I do know how to make an amazing brisket.”

  I lifted my chin. “We’ll see. Just don’t come crying and begging to me when you lose. Actually, do come crying and begging to me. I might like that sort of thing.”

  “Demons do not beg,” he told me in a lofty tone. “Well, except for Lucien.”

  I barked out a laugh and slapped a hand over my mouth, looking over to see Cassie and Lucien climbing out of the SUV. They were both watching me, Cassie with concern on her face and Lucien poised and ready to no doubt run to my rescue. I gave them a subtle thumbs-up sign and turned back to Xavier.

  We were good. We were so good. And I was nearly giddy with joy. I still had the gnomes to pacify, two lone werewolves to help safeguard, and a barbeque contest to win, but things were better than they’d ever been.

  Chapter 20

  Glenda

  “And what exactly was that about?” Cassie stood in front of me, her hands on her hips. “Is that the guy Lucien told me about? The one who messed with your slugs?”