Page 30 of Minions and Magic
Babylon shrugged. “Personally, I like asshole guys. I think you should go for it. When you win, make him your love slave for a few weeks. Just make sure you stipulate that he needs to stay out of your kitchen.”
“My kitchen is most of my house,” I protested.
“No biggie. Just confine him to the bedroom,” Babylon said. “That’s where you want him anyway.”
My mind immediately went to Xavier and me on top of my stainless steel table and I felt myself flush. But that wasn’t just where I wanted him. It wasn’t just sex. If it had been, I wouldn’t be so upset. No, we’d had a camaraderie, a connection—at least I’d thought we had. That’s why I felt so betrayed by his sabotage of the slugs.
Suddenly I didn’t want to talk about Xavier any more. Or think about him. I didn’t want to remember how alive I’d felt the last two days when we’d been together. I didn’t want to go back to my house that suddenly seemed so empty and bleak.
I’d vented. I’d had my pity party and gotten support from my sisters. Now it was time to move on.
“You’re both coming to the werewolf barbeque, right?” I asked. “I’m making some really amazing stuff—not just the brisket.”
Babylon and Adrienne exchanged a glance.
“We’ll be there,” Adrienne said, and I knew that it wasn’t just because of the food, or because this was a special event in our town. She’d be there for me. And so would Babylon.
So would all my sisters. Xavier might get my soul, but if he won, I was sure that six witches would make his eternal life a living nightmare.
“Thanks.” I flagged Pete down again, deciding that we might want to switch to beer if any of us were to have a chance of making it out of the bar on our own two feet.
“Lice,” Adrienne reminded me. “The guy is going to have a whole lot of lice. And I might have Drake shit on his head as well.”
“Zombies,” Babylon added. “He’ll have a hard time getting anything done with a pack of zombies following him around. Plus they stink. Oh, and they attract a lot of flies.”
“Flies are good.” Adrienne nodded. “Flies and lice. That demon will rue the day he ever screwed with a Perkins witch. Or screwed a Perkins witch.”
I laughed, then ordered a round of beers. Sisters. My love life might be in shambles, my heart bruised, my career reputation smudged, but no matter what, my sisters would always be there for me.
Always.
Chapter 16
Glenda
Islept in Thursday, indulging in my hangover until well past noon. Then I drug my sorry butt out of bed, got a shower, forced down what food my rebellious stomach could tolerate, and headed up Heartbreak Mountain. Veering off a back road, I circled around the west side of the mountain to Clinton’s compound. There hadn’t been any improvements over the last month mostly because part of the peace treaty between the wolf packs meant Clinton’s group would be moving to their fifty acres on Savior Mountain next month, and every effort had gone into building a new compound on what was nothing more than rocks, trees, and briars. So far a new alpha house had been roughed out, and land cleared for a dozen temporary housing structures, but that was it. There wasn’t much time for them to get everything reasonably livable, but now that Dallas’ compound had been rebuilt, I was hoping some of his pack would pitch in and help Clinton. After all, it was in their best interests to get the other, smaller pack off Heartbreak Mountain and established in their own territory.
Word of my arrival must have preceded me, because Clinton was out front of the alpha house, waiting for me. I parked and pulled one of the sour cherry pies from the back seat of my van.
Clinton sniffed the air appreciatively as we greeted each other. “I hope that’s for me, because it smells darned good.”
“It is.” I handed him the pie. There was another in the backseat for Dallas. No sense in having six pies go to waste at my house, and I certainly couldn’t eat them all myself.
“I just wanted to talk to you about the barbeque this weekend,” I began as we made our way into the alpha house. “First, what sort of desserts are your favorite? I want to put a special something together for each alpha to honor the peace between the packs.”
Clinton looked a bit flustered. “Well…since you’re asking, I really like cakes. Growing up, my Ma would bake cakes for pack functions, and she always made a little one just for me. I was too young to attend back then, and having that cake made me feel included. It made me feel like I was part of the pack, one of the grown-ups. Plus, having my own personal cake…it made me special. Loved.”
I smiled, thinking how many of our favorite foods were tied up in childhood memories, like my pinwheels.
“Is any particular cake your favorite?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Ma made all kinds. She had a big book of recipes that had been in her family for ages. I should ask Tink to get it to me. Hoping someday I can make a few of those for my pups, although I’m nowhere near the baker my Ma was.”
My mind was already thinking of possibilities, but there were a couple of other things I needed to talk to Clinton about before I got going.
“I also wanted to let you know that there is going to be a contest. A…a demon and I are competing for who makes the best brisket, and you, your father, and Tink are the judges.”
His eyes gleamed. “I love brisket. Looking forward to that one.”
