Page 10 of The Witching Hours

“That would be grocery delivery, I assume?” Amon ventured.

She squinted her eyes at him. “What are the limitations?”

“Can’t control time and weather adaptations have a tendency to go wrong. Anything else is fair game.”

“Okay. The groceries? I want them accepted and put away in the kitchen without opening the front door.”

Amon laughed. “My lady. You are an original. This might be fun after all.”

He sat back down and picked up his wine glass.

“So. You can’t do that!” she accused.

He turned toward her and smiled. “Go look.”

Brigid glanced toward the stairs. She was dying to do as he instructed, but didn’t want to leave the hallway to her bedroom where Kenny was sleeping or the stairwell unguarded. On the other hand, what could she do to stop this young, muscular six-feet-two guy if he wanted to get past her?

She practically ran for the kitchen, but stopped on the way and retraced her steps. She’d caught something in her peripheral vision. The dining room table was set with fine linens, heavy stainless flatware and colorful hip pottery that she did not own. The look was complemented by a modern floral arrangement of lilies, tree fern, and red alstroemeria. She recognized it from a layout she’d seen inEllewhile waiting at urgent care. It had caught her attention and she’d lingered on the photography thinking it was different and outstandingly gorgeous.

Her heart was beating a little faster as she reset her course for the kitchen.

It had definitely not been quite as spotless as the last time she’d seen it. Even the glass front cabinets were gleaming like they’d just been cleaned. On the stove was a large soup pot of something that smelled heavenly. She lifted the lid to see Guinness beef stew almost done. She’d ordered the ingredients in a moment of optimism, thinking that she might actually be inclined to cook one day soon.

Well, she thought to herself,the stew didn’t walk into the house and prepare itself.

The pantry was full of everything she’d ordered along with other things she wanted, but had not ordered. Same with the refrigerator. Fully stocked. Beautifully arranged. The shelves and drawers were as spotlessly clean as the day the refrigerator arrived for installation.

She jumped when she heard a smooth voice from behind. Amon was leaning against the kitchen door jamb with his arms crossed.

“Shall we dispense with the games and get down to business now? I’m here to help protect you and your stuff so your family can continue to enjoy the fruits of your labors. Plus, more if you wish.”

The skeptic inside Brigid wanted to argue with what she was seeing with her own eyes, but she’d run the gamut of reasonable explanations and come up short. There was only one conclusion left. She was cavorting with a demon. Well, perhaps she wasn’t cavorting. She wasn’t sure she knew what cavorting meant. She was sure that the stew she’d aspired to make was cooking and the table setting she’d seen in the magazine was proudly displayed on her dining table.

“You’re really not going to hurt us?”

“Not my thing. I’m here to conduct business. Pure and simple. Join me in the study. I noticed you didn’t touch your wine. Would you prefer a white? I know a good unoaked Chardonnay.”

“No. I don’t want wine. I want coffee. I’m going to check on Kenny then I will meet you in the study.”

Kenny had turned on the TV in her bedroom and was watching from bed.

“Hey, pal. How you doing?” She felt his face. He was definitely cooler. “How about some juice?”

“What kind?” he asked. That was promising.

She smiled. “What kind do you want?”

“Coke with lime juice.”

Brigid laughed and shook her head. “No.”

“Coke with cherry juice?” He tried.

“Orange juice?” She parried. He shook his head. “Lemonade?” He smiled and nodded.

After watching him drink half a glass, she said, “Ring the bell if you need me. I’ll be in dad’s study.”

Saying that caused a hitch in her speech. She supposed she was going to need to stop calling it that. Someday. Not today.

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