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“A baby?” Thea said, her eyes wide.

“Mommy is having a baby,” Lisette said, clasping my hand, her face alight. I could tell she was thrilled and relieved the secret was out.

Suddenly the room was filled with joyous chatter. I was being repeatedly hugged as was Etienne. Thanks to Sue, it wasn’t announced exactly as Etienne and I had planned, but somehow it was still absolutely perfect.

“I’m going to be an auntie,” Iris beamed.

“And I’m going to be a grandmother again,” Thea said, her eyes wide and suspiciously watery. She hugged Etienne, then hugged me tighter. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“I’ll be happier if it’s a boy,” Hugo said flatly.

Everyone laughed.

The brunch continued, everyone happy and festive. But every now and then, when I glanced out the window, I swore the gnomes’ painted eyes followed me from room to room, as though they were waiting for something.

Chapter Seven

Everyone had eaten their fill of delicious food and had now moved out to the porch to enjoy the day. Even the weather seemed to be cooperating to create the perfect event. A lovely breeze wafted through the air and even the humidity seemed to be behaving.

“What a wonderful day,” my mother sighed, leaning her head on JR’s shoulder as they lounged on the wicker settee, taking in the view.

It really was. I glanced at the gnomes, still visible from the porch. Well, except for them.

“Those gnomes are so freaking weird though,” Iris said as if reading my mind.

“It must be a neighbor’s prank,” Etienne said, ever the optimist. “I bet it was a J-Team.”

The J-Team was a group of teenage nutria Shifter brothers, who often helped out Etienne with intel and security. But they were teens and enjoyed playing pranks. It honestly was a good theory. And one I wanted to believe because it made the gnomes sudden appearance much less eerie.

I was about to agree when Jocko piped up from his fishbowl, waving what had to be his seventh mimosa in the air. “They are witches’ gnomes. Look at the hats.”

I squinted again. I didn’t know what witches’ gnomes would be exactly, but the hats did look witchlike.

“Should we… move them?” I suggested, not sure I wanted to touch them.

“Non,” said Jocko. “They’re like tiny bombs. If you move them, they explode in your face.”

Etienne snorted. “You are thinking of grenades.”

Jocko shook his head. “No, I am thinking of gnomes. You have not seen the old country.”

Here we go with this old-world thing again. What was this couyan crustacean even talking about? Although I was pretty sure it was the champagne talking.

I put the gnomes out of my mind, or tried to, as the conversation moved to more pleasant things like baby names and ideas for nursery décor.

“I think I will go with yellows,” I said about the baby’s room.

“Greens are nice too,” my mother said, ever the Green witch.

“I can’t believe you aren’t going to go with black and grays,” Ghede said since he loved to tease me about my pixie-goth esthetic.

“With pops of red,” Sam added.

“Remember when Mally painted her whole room black,” Iris said with a laugh.

“I was going through some teenage angst,” I said, defending my choices.

“You were the most upbeat goth I ever met,” Violet said in her usual way of defending me.