Page 38 of Suspicions on the Stage
“Said the pot to the kettle,” I shoot back. “Not that you’re admittinganything, my close-lipped bestie.”
Channing’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. She doesn’t make a sound for a few seconds, then finally stutters, “B-b-b-bestie? Me?!”
I blink, surprised at her reaction. Perhaps I haven’t done a good job at making sure she knows just how much I value her outside of work. That’s my fault, and I definitely need to make it up to her. “Channing, I’ve never really had close friends, even before Magnus. Teacher parents and all, you know? But after, he isolated me, even from afar. So I may not know how to express things well with this, but yes, I consider you the best friend I’ve had in… ever, I guess.”
“Holy Zeus’ toasty balls,” she mutters. I laugh, assuming thathasto have been picked up from hanging with Jackson and his guys. She didn’t seem the type to get so vulgar before and I love that she’s growing and finding herself so quickly just by being accepted by them. “I’ve never had a bestie, either. You know, smart girl problems, right? And um, it made me very shy and not very trusting, so even when I got older, I didn’t really try. But… I’mreallypsyched to be with you.”
I’ll be damned; we’re a perfect pair then.
“Then we can be two ostracized losers who find absolutely amazing friends in each other and everyone will be super jelly of us,” I say with a grin. Then I frown, whispering, “I said that right, yes? Lucas has this vocabulary of young guy shit I seem to pick up and I’m constantly worried I look like a dusty ancient moron using them.”
Channing bursts out laughing, shaking her head as she grins broadly. “You said it right, and no, you don’t look like some crusty old fart saying ‘rizz’ or whatever. When you’re not alldressed up in your work clothes, you barely look over thirty, M. Cross my heart.”
One thing is for sure, having a bestie is going to do wonders for my ego… especially since I’m several hundred years old and she just said I look thirty.
After Channingand I chatted for a little while longer, I packed my shit and took off from my balcony. Flying over the campus soothes me, so I don’t worry about traveling via the car pickup service my lazy ass ex used. Why he didn’t want to stretch his wings and soar, I can’t imagine, but it might have to do with people knowing how little actual work he did to keep this place running. His lack of work ethic is evident in every single thing I review, from staffing to maintenance to recruiting, and it’s a big part of why fixing this college will take a long ass time.
Besides his fucking bedroom hires—those are the worst of the worst and they’ll keep coming.
I touch down in my front yard, noting the driveway is still empty. Whatever Lucas needed help with must still be getting finished up, so I head inside, checking-in to the security system as I go. It will send them a message that I’m home, and I know that will calm their concerns about where I am and who’s with me. Slade, especially, will be relieved because he’s the sensitive type and he saw the confrontation earlier.
Kicking off my heels, I set my bag on the living room table with my phone, then pad upstairs to get comfy. Once I’m in my band tee and yoga pants with a loose ponytail, I go straight to the kitchen to start dinner. The delivery service has filled the fridgejust like the Prince promised, and I peruse the selection quickly before I decide on some serious tacos. Pulling chicken, seafood, and steak out of the cold drawer, I hum under my breath while I get the stove going. I guess they’re going to be more like fajita tacos than anything, but I want to make sure everyone enjoys themselves, even if the shrimp is making my nose wrinkle.
I’ve never been a seafood lover, but I bet Lucas is, so I want to make him smile.
While the range heats, I run into the living room to grab my phone, then put on a playlist. I chop the various veggies as I dance around the kitchen happily. This situation might not be perfect because of all our enemies, but I will not let it ruin the occasional good times that can be had. The music changes from genre to genre as I make salsa, guac, queso, and the toppings one by one. I enjoy cooking occasionally, but I’m no gourmet chef. This kind of meal is definitely my most complex capability, and that’s why I often lived off delivery versus making myself food over the years.
“Don’t fuck this up, Morgana,” I say under my breath. “You’re better than that, even if you aren’t Emeril Lagasse or that Diners dude.”
Perhaps talking to myself all the time has gotten worse because when the guys are around, I have so many people to listen. Yikes. Am I losing my mind? That thought drifts through my brain as I finish the cold prep and get the pans to cook the meats. The sizzling makes me smile as I look in the cabinets, finding a bunch of perfect spices in there without a lot of effort. That Prince is fucking good, or at least, his minions are. This kitchen isstockednow, and I think Lucas will approve, as will Slade.
Not that they have to cook for me, but I know they both enjoy it more than I do.
“I wonder what the hell they’ve found at that dorm that is taking so long,” I mutter as I shake my booty to an old 90s song while I flip the meats one by one. “No one has sent an SOS again, but it feels like they’ve been there a really long time.”
The control freak in me wants to call and find out, as does the Domme in me. Two of my more submissive lovers are there, and it makes that part of me anxious. The gargoyle and gorgon agree, pushing against my hold on them as the protective vibe gets stronger. For once, I’m very glad to be distracted by something like cooking that requires my constant attention. Otherwise, I might have struggled to keep them at bay when my three mates are facing something possibly dangerous without me.
But I have to trust that Liam, Iggy, and even that fuckwit dragon will keep them all safe—don’t I? Yes, I do.
I hate it, though, and I turn back to the stove, throwing myself into gathering supplies to make some refried beans and arroz as well. If I can’t take control of that situation, I’ll do everything I can to make this damn dinner amazing. Turning the music up so it drowns out the protests in my mind, I sing along as I work on the side, then move to getting the shells and tortillas ready. The fridge is full of things to use for extra toppings as well, so I get out black and green olives, tomatoes, sour cream, crema, cilantro, and every other thing I can. I grate enough chihuahua cheese to cover the entire table, then finally, get the meats on their platters with covers.
Damnit, they’re still not back. What else can I do to keep busy?Pausing for a moment, I grin widely as I hunt down glass wear and a tray.
There’s never a bad time for home made margaritas—way to go brain. Now we’re talking.
you know i’m no good
KASPAR
This shit is making me fucking insane.
Liam called as I was slinking around the nearby Arts building, doing my job as requested, and re-directed me to the kid’s dorm. Of course, he’s in the most expensive building with the most apartment-style dorms possible amongst a bunch of dickish jock bros and primped sorority supes. That’s not surprising, nor am I unused to it, given my long time with a prince. But between the mage, the siren, Li and I, not one fucking thing has been found in this damned room—although every one of us can feel something wrong.
“This is why I called,” the bear says, his expression stressed as he tugs on his blond locks. “I can’t find anything out of place, but thevibein here is all wrong. There’s just… a sense of violation and that I should be able to smell or see or hear something, but I can’t.”
Ignatius looks up from where he’s carefully casting along the windows to find out if there are enchantments on them. “I agree you did the right thing, Lucas. We’re all baffled because we can sense what you do, but have no ability tolocatethe problem.”
“There’s this… feeling… You’re right. Like it’s buzzing around the room like a fly, but it’s invisible and unidentifiable.” Slade pushes up his glasses, his nose wrinkling as he hums again.
