Page 8 of Magic Pussy

"Ma Curtis says fuck every hour," Sophie replied, rolling her eyes. "She doesn't mind, do you, Ma?"

"I ain't got no business watching what comes out of your mouth, girlies. What with you being eighteen and all."

The kids played a quick rock, paper, scissors, to decide who was leading them up. Amelia won.

The rooms upstairs were clean and personable; the warm wood, bright walls, and fresh flowers on the windowsill made it all feel like someone's spare bedroom rather than a hotel.

Amelia took them to Rain's first. Luke had a peek of beige linens and blue walls. His, situated right opposite Rain's, was painted red, with purple bedding. Somehow, it didn't clash.

He dropped his luggage and headed to his en suite to wash away a few hours of travel. Coming out refreshed and in clean clothes, he found Rain talking to Amelia in the corridor.

"Eighteen," Rain mused. "You guys have grown like weeds. I remember babysitting you."

"And so do I! You were the best. Let us eat all the candy and stay up late."

Luke could imagine that. She did spoil the Wyvern kids rotten, too.

"Is it true that you'll be the anchor for the ritual?" Amelia asked in a hushed tone.

So, the kid was also a witch. Luke wasn't surprised. He'd felt wards around the building; strong ones.

It certainly made his bodyguard job a little easier.

"Maybe," Rain replied vaguely. "Depends on a few things. Tell me, how are things with Michelle in charge?"

The kid was fucking uncomfortable all of a sudden. Not good, then.

"I...I—" she didn't finish the sentence, her eyes darting to Luke.

"Don't mind him. He couldn't care less about witches’ affairs. Anyway, you don't need to answer that. Forget I asked."

The kid nodded gratefully and made her way downstairs.

Rain watched her leave, frowning.

"Well, that's not exactly reassuring," Luke said, just so the silence didn't stretch.

Rain shrugged. "It's about what I expected. Come, let's go. I'm sure your cat is dying to explore the territory."

Luke didn't ask how she knew; she was friends with Ace, one of the most dominant shifters he knew. No doubt, the alpha female also needed to check her surroundings when she arrived somewhere new.

When they got downstairs, the cranky old lady who'd checked them in asked them if they wanted to sit and wait for gumbo.

"Who is Gumbo?" Luke asked, justifiably one might think.

No one had mentioned any gumbo before.

The cranky owner of the place looked at him with horror, open-mouthed. Rain winced and grimaced.

"Who is Gumbo, he says," Ma Curtis whispered to herself. "Who is Gumbo...my ancestors are rolling in their graves. They call to me, I can feel it. I must show him the way..."

The octogenarian proved to be surprisingly strong. She gripped him by the ear and dragged him to a bright sitting room behind her counter.

"You will stay until gumbo."

Luke was half convinced he was about to get roped into a sect, but there had been something dark in her tone, and he dared not disobey.

Sophie and Amelia carried in bowls filled with a thick, reddish-brown sauce over rice. One whiff and both Luke and his animal stilled, entirely captivated. When they ate a bite of shrimp and chicken, rice, and spices, they could hear angels sing. If Ma Curtis had come in with a contract and a pen, he would have signed away his soul without hesitation in that moment.

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