Page 65 of Lunar Desires
Drake gave him a super quick on-the-fly account, hurrying through the gold-and-terracotta décor, passing the celestial paintings, their golden frames gleaming under the light of the chandeliers.
All a sight for sore eyes. All symbols of home.
A new home.
“That’s mental,” he answered, his hazel eyes wide.
“I’ll say,” I squeaked.
Wet mud poured constantly from my body, ruining Drake’s clothes. All without diminishing my tiny size.
Oh, good. I’m an endless fountain of mud. Yay for me.
Ollie followed us into the basement spell room—being closer than the attic. “But where’s Isaac?”
The Bramble triplets appeared in the corridor leading to the basement. After Drake fired off another quick rundown, each of the red-headed triplets wore shock on their fair, freckled faces.
“So, that’s Riley?” Aaron, the only fae sibling, asked. He adjusted his glasses, squinting his green eyes.
I gave him a wave.
He waved back. “Pissing hell, sir!”
Alice nudged him in the ribs, while April cocked her head in confusion.
“I know,” I directed at her, hating the attention.
“Evening, Agent Jake,” Alice said.
“Hey.” He was behind Ollie, soaked to the skin with an expression caught between exhaustion and irritation.
“Where’s Isaac?” Ollie asked again, following me down the last stretch of the corridor. “You might need him to cast the spell.”
Even though Alice, April, and Ollie were all shimmer witches, casting a spell might prove tricky. There were conditions to magic, rules you couldn’t bypass.
Unless you were a sacred witch. Our blood circumvented the magical kickback some spells possessed, and we didn’t have to be grounded—an act of protection. Like putting gardening gloves on to prune roses. Only, well, more dramatic.
But we always had to pay the spell’s toll, no matter what. No side-steppingthat.
Ollie paused, calling Erin as Drake flung open the door to the basement.
“Mum? Where are you?” Ollie asked. “Cool. See you in five.”
Drake hovered at the top of the stairs, awaiting a report.
“They’re almost here,” Ollie said, taking a breath. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he addressed me, offering me a sympathetic smile.
“Could’ve been worse.”
He folded his big arms again. “Maybe.”
Drake took off, hurrying down the stairs into the basement spell room.
The cobwebs were gone, the floor-to-ceiling shelves no longer empty. Ollie had been brewing some easy potions, creating a nice little store of goodies.
But the drab room retained its dusty vibes, the bare floorboards and stone walls in need of some color. Unless the aesthetic was meant to stay this way for traditional purposes.
Whatever. That was hardly an important problem.
