by Martha Carr
“I mean, there’s no point now, right?”
“Go ahead,” Chuck called, leaning back against the couch again with his eyes closed as he petted their immortal bulldog. “I doubt anything can surprise me at this point.”
Nickie almost bursting out laughing, but she held it together. “Go for it.”
“‘Kay.” Laura thumbed her keyring and disappeared from the living room with a little pop.
Chuck opened his eyes and rolled his head toward Nickie. “Do I get to see any—where’s Laura?”
Nickie looked up at the ceiling and hummed. “She’ll be right—”
Laura popped out of the Clubhouse and right back to where she’d been standing.
“Jeeze.” Chuck sat upright and stared at her. “What is that thing?”
Laura patted the Velikan wrench slung over her shoulder. “This is an incredibly power weapon used to deactivate—”
“One of the giants who designed this ship gave Laura a super-sized wrench to hit things with.” Nickie stuck her thumb at her sister and grinned.
Chuck barked out a laugh and leaned back against the couch. “There are totally still mundane things in the world of magical…things.” Nickie smirked at her sister and folded her arms. “You have no idea.”
“All right, let’s leave the cutting remarks, huh?” Laura nodded at the legacy ring on her sister’s hand.
When Nickie raised her hand a little, her black ring flashed and produced another iridescent transport bubble. Just before it grew large enough for them to step inside, Chuck opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came when he saw his girlfriend and her sister step into a giant bubble appearing out of nowhere.
“Let’s do the next one by the golf course,” Laura muttered.
“Got it.” Nickie caught Chuck staring. She blew him a kiss and winked before the bubble and the Hadstrom sisters vanished.
Chuck choked and couldn’t think of anything to do but sit there and keep petting the witches’ bulldog. “Okay. Just gonna let things sink in. That’s easy enough, right?”
Speed licked his chops and rolled his eyes before the sound and the stench of the dog’s perpetual gastro-intestinal plague hit Chuck full force.
“You need to get that checked.” Chuck covered his nose and swallowed. “Any other day, buddy, I’d be running out of this room. Just this once, though, I’ll let it go.” He coughed and pulled his shirt up over his nose. “If I don’t pass out first.”
Chapter Twenty
“This is…really nice.” Emily swept her gaze over the inside of Creekside Bistro and took a small sip of the wine John had ordered them.
“Yeah?” Her date grinned at her and eyed the mostly full dining room. “There aren’t a lot of places that fit my standards for taking you out, but this one’s been a favorite for a while. Never anything less than perfect.”
She smiled over the rim of her wineglass. “But does it stand up to Meadowlark?”
“Um… right now, I’d say the restaurant we both work for has fallen a little in the ranks of Austin’s best fine dining.”
“Oh.” Emily sighed and glanced down at the table. “You know, I haven’t been back at work since I left Sunday. I’d completely forgotten about that whole… weird issue.”
“Seriously?” John smiled, but he looked way too confused for Emily’s liking. “I mean, it’s kinda hard to forget. Two different days in just over a week where all the customers start freaking out and acting like…I don’t know. Like they never learned how to be adults.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s been weird.” And it would be even weirder if he knew I’m the reason everyone lost it. I really gotta learn to separate work and everything else. Especially the magical everything else. “I guess I’ve had a lot going on since Sunday.”
“Not a very relaxing two days off, huh?”
She chuckled. “Not really.”
“Well, I promised you we’d have fun tonight, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” John lifted his wineglass, Emily clinked hers against it, and they drank. “This is just the dinner part, by the way.”
“No way.” Emily slapped her hand against her cheek in mock surprise. “In a restaurant?”
“I know. It’s shocking.” John leaned forward over the table and wiggled his eyebrows. “But after we eat, we’re going somewhere else.”
“Oh, that’s the surprise.”
“Now you’re catching on.”
“Perfect. I like surprises.” She felt her cheeks growing warm with what little wine she’d already had. As long as they’re happy surprises where nobody gets possessed or kidnapped or murdered to power an escape pod. There’s a wide range, there. Her knee started bouncing up and down under the table.
“How’s Nickie doing?”
“What?” Emily blinked and looked up at him again.
“Your sister. She’s still your sister, right?”
“Yeah…are you sure you’re not pulling out all these surprises for me just so you can get to know my sister?”
John’s mouth twitched as he tried to determine whether she was joking. “Yeah, I’m sure. I was talking about the party Sunday night. You know, when you and your sisters ran out and spent the rest of the night looking for her migraine medicine?”
Emily’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing. “Oh. Yeah, that.”
“Wow, you really have had a busy few days off.”
“Trust me, we could sit here all night and I probably wouldn’t even cover half of it.” I need to stop talking. “Nickie’s fine. Those migraine pills are…hard to find. We went to a couple different places before a pharmacy finally had some. She’s stocked up for a while now, I think.” All lies, Emily. Nickie really undersold how hard it is to cover up all this ‘being a witch and dating a human’ stuff.
“I’m glad she’s okay. She didn’t look good.”
“Yeah, when she gets hit, she gets hit hard. But you still hung out at the party for a while after?”
John nodded and sipped his wine. “Chuck’s pretty cool. I mean, at least he was able to explain to Nathan and me that leaving parties right when they start to get good is just something you and your sisters do.”
“Oh, man. It sounds awful when you say it like that.” Emily took a deep breath and glanced around the dining room. “It’s not something that we try to do. We’re just…really close. Sometimes things come up we have to help each other with.”
“Yeah, I get that. I mean, I can imagine what it’s like. I don’t have two sisters, so it’s not the same.”
“Right.” She stared at him a few seconds and grew a little restless. What my sisters and I have going on right now is anything but normal, trust me. Her knee bounced faster under the table, and she stared at the white tablecloth between her and John. You need to chill out, Em. Calm down. Don’t get worked up. This is a date. With John. Who you really like.
“You okay?” John raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re kind of…trembling?” An unsure laugh escaped him. “I didn’t mean to push about Nickie or anything.”
“No, no. You weren’t pushing. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Emily tapped her thigh beneath the table and used the same spell she’d cast at her college graduation when her fidgety body wouldn’t do what she wanted. Immediately, her leg fell still under the immobility charm, and she grinned. “So, in case you couldn’t tell, I really needed a night out without my sisters.”
He laughed and raised his glass. “Here’s to dates where nobody else tags along.” Emily rolled her eyes but tipped her wineglass against his anyway. And let’s hope we didn’t just jinx the night with that. As soon as she took another sip of wine to end John’s toast, her other leg started twitching. “Oh, jeeze.” She clamped her other hand down on the second rebel limb.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s fine. Sometimes I just get…muscle cram
ps? I think.” You sound like a crazy person, Emily.
John chuckled and tried to lick the smirk off his face. “I might be able to help.”
“Uh…probably not. I mean, nothing against you, but the stuff I’m dealing with right now is kind of…” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Unusual. Abnormal. Off the charts, maybe. I don’t know the terms.”
“Oh, man. I didn’t actually tell you, did I?”
“Tell me what?” Her heart leapt into her throat as she tried to anticipate what he could possibly tell her that could help her in any way. Keep it together, Em… A silver flash caught her eye on the table in front of John. The knife beside his plate trembled. No.
John took another drink and smiled. “I’m going to school part time for Massage Therapy. So I probably could help. At least a little.”
Her eyes whipped up to meet his gaze, and she gulped. “What?”
“Okay, I know that sounds weird from a guy you just started dating, but I promise it’s actually true.”
The knife jerked sideways. Emily tried to stare it down as hard as she could. If this is some weird kinda new magic coming out to play, I don’t want it. Not now.
“Okay.” John wrinkled his nose and stared at her. “I just made this weird by telling you that, didn’t I?”
“Huh?” She looked up at him and felt like a complete idiot.
“I’m sorry, Em. I normally don’t tell people, but I just…you’re obviously distracted by something. Maybe it’s muscle cramps or something else. I don’t know. I was just trying to help.” He set his glass down on the table and shrugged.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” The words came out of her in a rush. “I’m trying to get my—” The wiggling knife flung itself from where it was supposed to stay next to John’s plate and clanged against the stem of the wineglass. Both glass and wine toppled over onto the tablecloth and all over John’s button-down shirt.
Emily squeaked and clamped her hands over her mouth.
John spread his arms and stared at the mess Emily’s wayward magic had made.
“Oh, my god. John. I’m so sorry.” She stood from the booth, snatched her napkin, and tried to sop up what hadn’t yet soaked into anything else.
He frowned at her above an unsettled smile. “Why are you sorry?”
“Um…” She glanced at the spill and up at him. “Mostly because I didn’t want to make you feel bad about anything you tell me. Ever. I know I didn’t knock over your wine glass. Duh.” She rolled her eyes and giggled, but it didn’t feel anywhere close to convincing.
“Uh…no.” With a raised eyebrow, John eyed her then glanced at the wine-soaked front of his shirt. “All right.” He grabbed his napkin and pressed it against his chest and upper stomach, then just left it there. “Now neither one of us have to look at it.”
Emily snorted and sat again. I can’t believe this is happening now. Right now. Why? “At least it’s not red.”
John laughed and nodded, picking up the wineglass. “Yeah. At least there’s that. Still weird, though.” He gave the wineglass stem an experimental tug and frowned. “Nothing wrong with the glass. Did I…” Once he’d scanned the tabletop and found nothing there, his frown deepened. “Didn’t set it on anything. That’s just weird.”
“So weird.” Emily offered a little shrug. “Do you want another drink?”
“Yeah, I’ll get it when our server comes back. So, we were talking about—”
“You going to school for Massage Therapy.” Emily sat up straight in the booth and nodded. “I think it’s awesome.”
“Oh, yeah? You seemed a little weirded out.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and cocked his head. “And now you don’t.”
“No. I’m sorry. I’m…” She sighed and lowered both hands into her lap. “Just trying to decompress from the last couple days, I think. Turns out those have been more stressful than long days at work.”
“Hey, it happens.”
“But thanks for telling me about going to school. You know, if you don’t normally tell people.”
John grinned. “Well, I noticed when I do, people think I’m coming onto them or they ask to be a guinea pig while I’m still learning so they don’t have to pay for a massage.”
Emily shook her head. “Freeloaders.”
“Right? By the way, the offer stands, if you still want me to see what I can do for your muscle cramps. I definitely won’t charge you.”
She played with the stem of her own wineglass and tried not to smile. “Free massage, huh? It does kinda sound like a pickup line.”
“It might be.” He smiled at her and his gaze lingered. “Just for you, though.”
“I’m flattered.” Maybe that is what I need. Just regular relaxing things.
“All right.” Their server stopped at the table with two plates and set Emily’s down in front of her first.
“Man, that smells good.” John eyed Emily’s plate and nodded at her. “Good choice.”
“I know.” She stared at her food. This isn’t what I ordered, is it? What did I even order? I can’t…I hate figs.
The server started to set John’s plate in front of him but noticed the look on Emily’s face. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Emily swallowed. I can’t eat this. Me. The chef. “Yeah, I’ll just—”
A tiny spark flared from the middle of the pasta on John’s plate and tossed almost half of the noodles—cream sauce and all—off the plate and into his lap. The server jumped in surprise, the plate slipped from her hand, and John was covered now in wine and pasta.
He sucked in a breath and flung the noodles off his arms and onto the table. “Yeah, that’s hot.”
Emily wanted to slide off the booth and under the table and disappear. What is going on?
“Sir, I am so sorry.” The server gaped at him. “I don’t know what—” She grabbed the plate and started scooping the slippery, well-sauced noodles onto the dish. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
John cracked up laughing and grabbed a huge handful of noodles. Most of them slopped back onto the table. “It’s totally okay. I work front of house at Meadowlark Tavern.” The young woman jerked her head up and looked terrified. “And by that I only mean that I get it when accidents happen. Weird accidents. Messy.” He pulled a long noodle off his shirt and set it on the top of the pile. “I’m not gonna complain to anyone about it. Don’t worry.”
“I…” The server glanced at Emily, who managed to smile and not make it look like she was freaking out. At least, the smile felt better on her own face than the rest of her felt. “I’ll have the kitchen make another plate for you. And it’s on me.”
“Actually…” John glanced at Emily, narrowed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “We’ll just take the check.”
“I understand.” The woman grabbed the plate of upturned noodles with both hands and turned toward the kitchen.
“You’re not gonna eat that, are you?”
Emily glanced at the food in front of her and swallowed. “Probably not.”
“Yeah, I saw it on your face.” John leaned forward to grab her napkin and tried as best he could to clean up the sauce all over his shirt. “Plus, I’m pretty sure that’s not what you ordered.”
“You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.”
“Please don’t tell me that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever said to you.”
“Ha! Not even close. I was starting to think I was going crazy. I’m really glad I’m not.”
“Yeah, me too, Em.” John stood from the booth and pulled a whole new pile of noodles off his pants before setting them down on the table. “And here I was going on and on about how awesome this place is.”
“Everybody has bad days.” She shrugged. “Some more than others.” Her copper ring flashed to undo the immobility charm on her leg, and she stood.
“No kidding.” Glancing over his shoulder toward the kitchen, he pulled out his wallet and rifled through it before placing four twenties on
the table. “Let’s go before she comes back.”
Emily stared at the money. “That’s way more than it costs to not eat dinner here.”
He laughed. “We drank most of the wine, and I’m pretty sure that she thinks her night can’t get any worse. I can make it a little better than the worst night she’s ever had.”
She blinked. “You’re an incredible person.”
“Uh…no. I just feel really bad. And I’m covered in…everything.” He brushed at his shirt and gave up. “I have extra clothes in my car. That’s my real motivation. Plus, I did really well on Sunday with tips.”
“Even with all the craziness?” Emily walked beside him through the dining room, trying not to let her imagination run wild and convince her that everyone here was staring at them.
“Both of those crazy nights, actually. The first time with a bunch of anarchists in the dining room.” She snorted. “And Sunday after the whatever party.”
“I think they’re calling it a swinger party. At least on the news.” They walked past a six-top who’d just gotten their drinks and bread.
“You saw that bit too?”
“Yeah. It was really weird.” And my fault because I was too busy thinking about my little crush on John instead of focusing on the line. Most dangerous pot of soup ever created.
John grabbed her hand. “You know, a lot of weird things have happened since I met you.”
“What?” She glanced away from the six-top and stared at John. At the same instant, there was a loud flap of heavy fabric, followed by the crash of shattering glass and the startled shouts of diners.
“Woah.” When John turned around, so did Emily.
Everyone seated at the six-top were now standing, half of them covered in drinks, breadcrumbs, and splattered buttered. The other half gaped at the mess. The tablecloth lay on the floor beneath their spilled glasses and serving plates and all their silverware. One man picked a sprig of baby’s breath—which had been part of the centerpiece a few seconds before—from the hair of the woman next to him and stared at it.
