The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) (16 page)

“Head?” Rick asked, coming into view, his large form blocking out the moon as he knelt next to her.

She bracketed his handsome face with her hands and yelled, “Yes! Oh, thank God you still have your head!”

He gripped her wrist and smiled sheepishly. “I do. Not that I deserve it, but I still have it.”

Poppy scoffed, shoving his face away with a light push of her hands and mock disgust. “Oh yeah. You were being a jerk. I almost forgot.”

But he didn’t let go of her wrists. Instead, Rick pulled her closer, his nose almost touching hers. She smelled the faint hint of wine on his breath, they were so near. “I’m sorry. My only explanation is I have a long, not-so-great history with magic gone wrong, and sometimes that history gets the better of me. I overreacted.”

Upon reflection, she had to at least apologize for not telling him the whole story, but she’d been so focused on doing this right and then the thing with her neighbors and her apartment, and who she’d been before this became lost in the shuffle. But it certainly hadn’t been intentional.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you the whole story. It wasn’t intentional, just circumstantial,” she whispered, her body suddenly warm and tingly with all sorts of heady vibrations and electric pulses.

Cupping her jaw, Rick sighed. “How about we start over?”

“Bacon?”

“Bacon?” he repeated.

“You could make me bacon. Bacon makes everything better.”

Rick chuckled, the sound low and deep in his throat. “Bacon it is.”

“So deal’s back on?”

“Like Donkey Kong,” he replied on a snicker.

Nina tickled the inside of Rick’s ear with a broken limb. “Hey, back up, buddy. You’re getting pretty cozy there. It’s damn cold out here. We need to get the kid back home and figure out what the hell just happened. Can’t do that if you’re tryin’ to stick your tongue down her throat. Now move, Slick-Rick, or I’m gonna give you a case of genital warts that’ll end up on some medical mysteries show.”

Poppy giggled as Rick backed off and grabbed her hand, pulling her upright. She swayed to and fro, leaning into the strength of his grip, her head still light and fuzzy. But she squared her shoulders and sucked it up.

“When we get back, I’ll tell you everything. Then there’ll be no loose ends.”

“Fair enough, and then we’re going to examine what happened here tonight. Familiars certainly have magic, but a magic this powerful? One that could send you clear across the woods? I have to wonder what’s happening.”

She squeezed his hand, liking the feel of his slightly callused palm against hers, and nodded with a shiver. But she put on a brave front with a smile. “Let’s do this.”

As they picked their way back to his house through the woods, everyone lost in their own thoughts, Poppy clung to Rick’s hand, trying not to think about what this all meant without having some solid answers.

To speculate could only make her already vivid imagination get away with itself. She’d spent way too much of her childhood pretending to be one fictional character or another, and making up stories in her bedroom mirror as she practiced for the long-awaited time when she’d leave Cincinnati forever to become a famous actress.

It was better she didn’t think too hard on this. Like for instance, maybe there was some evil force out there that didn’t want her around, and it was lurking in the shadows, waiting to snuff her out.

But that was crazy.

And dramatic.

Yes. That was crazy dramatic.

* * * *

The next morning brought only more questions as they ate breakfast around the kitchen island before preparing to head off to Rick’s office.

“Okay, so we have two instances now that have been detrimental. My wrist, which, hey, Calamity, thanks for reattaching, and this thing with Poppy last night. We should be calling Familiar Central, because something’s not right,” Rick commented over his scrambled eggs.

Calamity had finally found a spell to literally knit Rick’s hand back onto his wrist. It had been a little horror movie-ish, but it had worked.

“Oh, I called their asses, all right, and you know what they said after keeping me on hold for half an hour? Someone would get back to me. They’re backed up with this blood moon prep.”

Now Poppy nodded, forcing her eyes to look away from Rick’s handsome face as they ate. “My flying Wallenda act aside last night, and speaking of this blood moon, could someone explain it to me? I have no clue what any of this means and your Wi-Fi sucks. I can’t get a signal on my phone to save my soul—which might need saving after last night. But you know what I
did
find out? I found out you witches are crazy bitches. Did you know that witches allegedly stole penises and kept them as pets? Like, according to this article, some guy wrote about how they made your stalks of love vanish and kept them in what this guy called a nest? I don’t know if it’s true, but if it is, what kind of medieval whacky is that?”

Rick squirmed in his chair, his laughter thin. “Feel like maybe you went a little overboard on the research there. Maybe you should stay away from Google and rely on us for correct information.”

“So it’s not true? How do you know? Were you there?” she asked, dropping her fork on the plate. “Because I’m not keeping anyone’s junk in a nest.”

“Good thing you’re a familiar and not a witch then, huh?” Calamity snickered from her plate of fresh salmon, courtesy of Arch, who now slept in Rick’s armchair after making them all breakfast.

“Here’s something I was wondering. Did you smell the magic last night, Calamity? Like just after Poppy cannonballed through the air?” Rick asked, popping a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Calamity brushed up against his arm, rubbing the length of her body against him. “Damn right I did. It was ugly magic, for sure. That kind of magic contains only one thing. Malice and it’s meant to harm. But why? Why would someone want to hurt Poppy?”

“Yeah. Why would someone want to hurt me?” she asked, picking up her plate to bring to the sink in the center of the island.

As the daylight streamed in through the tall windows opposite his kitchen, misty-gray and chilling, she finally wondered out loud what they’d all been wondering, but hadn’t articulated.

“I think we need to call the Doc,” Nina said, cutting Carl’s broccoli. “Maybe she can give us some fucking information on what the hell is going on, seeing as Familiar Central’s so damn busy.”

Poppy held up a finger after she slung a dishtowel over her shoulder and grabbed a sponge to wipe down the counters. “Right. Which brings me back to the blood moon thing. What’s the deal? Do I need to get a new dress? Why’s everyone in such an uproar over it?”

Rick brought his dish to the sink and rolled up his sleeves. “It’s on Halloween this year—or Samhain, as we celebrate, often mispronounced as
Sam Hain.
It represents the death of one cycle and the birth of another, but it’s also when the veil to the other realms is at its thinnest
.”

Poppy gulped as Rick squeezed into the space at the sink, his hip pressing to hers. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, all sorts of things can push their way through the veil. Halloween is already rife with plenty of shenanigans. Sometimes, what you see on TV is really real. But add in the blood moon, and it can get scary. Magic becomes more powerful, entities become bolder, spirits take their shot at breaking through. I’m just saying, things happen.”

Handing Rick a dish, Poppy frowned. “So what’s pushing through the veil that has Familiar Central so freaked out?”

He stopped rinsing the dishes and looked at her. “Well, demons for one. All manner of evil for two.”

Flapping her hands, she sprinkled water in his face. “Is that all? Hah! What’s the big deal about a little ol’ demon?”

Marty’s chair scraped against the floor as she reached over and dropped her plate in the sink. “Well, if we were talking about
our
demon, Darnell, it’d be no big deal at all. He’s the sweetest man alive. But Darnell’s also the exception to the rule. Have we called our boy today?”

Nina nodded, holding up her phone. “Yep. This sounds like it’s right up his alley. Figured we’d better get him here pronto. I’m also gonna call the doc. She should at least be able to help with this bad magic shit. I’m not crazy about the kid up and disappearing the way she did last night. I can’t fight what I can’t fucking see.”

“Good idea, Beastmaster! Now you’re thinking like a witch,” Calamity crowed. “Maybe she can cast a protective spell or something to help keep Poppy from harm.”

“You have a demon?” she asked, though not nearly as surprised as she’d been just two days ago.

Wanda chuckled, handing over her coffee mug. “Well, we don’t
have one
-have one. He’s not like a pet, he’s an integral part of our crew. Gentle as a lamb, fierce as a hungry tiger. He’s one of the very reasons we’re still here to tell our tales of adventure.”

She stopped dropping dishes into the sink for a moment to ponder. “So a good demon?”

Wanda smiled her sweet smile and bobbed her head, folding her hands in front of her. “The very best demon.”

Rick remained quiet during their conversation, and she sensed his reluctance in waves of discomfort. The thread was strong, wrapping around her heart and tugging.

So she elbowed him in the ribs, more because she rather liked touching him than to get his attention. “You okay with all this magic and demon stuff?”

His wide shoulders lifted in a shrug, but his eyes had a faraway, haunted look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Blowing her hair from her eyes, she shook her head. “Nah. Don’t pretend like you didn’t tell us last night you’ve had some bad experiences with magic. If we’re gonna do this, Rick, or at least give it a fair shot, you have to be straight with me. Besides, in case you were wondering, I can feel you’re upset. I don’t know if that’s what I’m supposed to do as a familiar, but I can, and it has to do with your heart. So I’m just checking on you. You don’t have to tell me what soured you to your people, you just have to be honest that you are, in fact, sour.”

His lips began to thin, but she gave him a stern look. “I mean it, Rick. Don’t clam up on me now.”

“It’s a sore subject for me.”

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step,” she encouraged, drying her hands on the towel and taking a step back from him.

Everything about Rick was delicious. The way he smiled when he really meant to express his happiness. The way he looked at her with those intense dark eyes. The way he smelled. The way he’d protectively held her hand last night as he’d brought her back to the shed, and stayed by her side until they’d finished explaining how she’d come to be his familiar and who the OOPS girls and Calamity were.

But she wasn’t only feeling what he was feeling; she was feeling things
for
him. Things she was uncomfortable feeling in the midst of all this turmoil. It was probably a hard-and-fast rule somewhere in the Big Book of Witches that familiars and their warlocks shouldn’t have lustful thoughts for one another—she’d do well to remember that.

He stopped rinsing the last dish, interrupting her thoughts, and capturing her eyes with his gaze, a gaze no longer so far away. “Lao Tzu.”

“Huh? Is that another magical, mystical, demon-freeing night I have to be afraid of?”

Rick gave her a crooked grin, but his dark eyes were full of questions. “No. It’s who said the quote you just repeated. The journey thing.”

Where had that come from anyway? But she shrugged it off. “Oh. Well, Lao was a smart cookie because it’s true. So how about you don’t do the man thing and deny your squishy feelings anymore? At least acknowledge they exist. Because they do, and they interfere with our progress if you can’t at least own them. It gives me a point of reference when you turn into a crabby ass.”

He took a step forward, getting so close she could count the navy-blue lines on the fitted green shirt he wore. “Are we making another deal?”

Poppy’s lips were suddenly dry, her throat tight. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Okay then, deal. I’ll no longer hide the fact that I’m opposed to magic in all forms.”

“You sure weren’t opposed to using your magic when you froze Nina…”

He grinned, the white flash of his teeth and the deep brackets on either side of his lips making her stomach turn a flip. “Have you encountered her in threatening pose?”

Poppy giggled, swishing the towel in the space left between them as though she might ward off his sexy with mere fabric. “That’s very fair. She can be very
Fight Club
.”

“Yeah. She sure can. It happened without me thinking, though. She was there, and a woman to boot, a very angry woman. I would never hit a woman, but she was coming at me, full thrust, so I stopped her.”

“In her tracks. It was quite impressive. She hasn’t stopped bitching about it since it happened. But here’s a thought. Maybe you could use your magic for good sometimes and you wouldn’t hate it quite as much.”

He stared at her for what felt like a hundred years before he said, “Maybe I could, Poppy McGuillicuddy. Maybe I could.”

His phone rang then, breaking the spell of whatever was happening between them, reminding her once again, she had no business having lustful thoughts for a man she had to spend the rest of her life spouting advice to.

But shoot, he was really good to look at, which was going to make her own journey that much more difficult.

A
s they headed down the long corridor at Sunset Ridge Nursing Home, Poppy tried to keep her nausea at bay. She’d experienced this deep unrest from the moment they’d pulled into the parking lot of the home, with its beautiful oak trees lining the entry, the rolling green hills littered with fall leaves, and the quaint brick building housing the seniors.

Everything should be fine. The setting was lovely—Mr. Rush couldn’t have picked a better nursing home in which to spend his golden years.

Yet, she couldn’t define this wave of panic filling her as they neared Mr. Rush’s room. She’d asked Rick if she could take some time away to see him, so she could at least explain what happened and how she fully intended to pay back the rent she owed.