Page 24 of Lunar Desires (Celestial Magic #2)

RILEY

I sat on Drake’s shoulder as he ran from the car into the mansion.

Ollie greeted him at the door, in his usual white vest and blue jeans combo, his muscular dark-brown arms folded tightly across his chest. “What happened?”

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-stepping that .

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.

The blue grimoire rested on a wooden book stand next to the big iron cauldron in the center of the room.

God, it was good to be back in the mansion.

Can I not leave for a while, pretty please?

“Alright. Let’s take a look at the book,” Drake said.

“I don’t want to get it muddy,” I countered. “So, I’ll go over there.” I pointed into the corner.

Ollie arrived, dashing past Drake to start flicking through the grimoire’s pages. “I’ve got you.” He worked quickly, checking the index, finding what he wanted. “Curse Cleanse. This will do it.” He held up the book for me to read.

Curse Cleanse!

A potion only spell.

Requires heating comfrey, salmon skin, and calendula in water. Grounding requires one candle and crumpled paper. A toll of dried lavender must be paid, thrown into the fire.

Once connection is established, clap the magic out while calling the words. Wait five minutes before decanting the concoction.

This spell requires a minimum of three witches in order for the effects of the potion to be worthwhile.

Solo casting reduces potency of the potion.

The three shimmer witches currently in Aurora Mansion could pull this off easily, but I already heard Isaac’s voice upstairs.

Thank Hecate.

He came bounding into the room, soaked to the bone, but somehow still exuding elegance. Turning drowned rat into stylish wet couture.

My brother gasped, a hand going over his mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t…” I whispered.

He dropped the hand, straightening. “Okay. Let me at the spell.”

Ollie, who always tensed whenever Isaac shared space with him, held up the spell book.

My big brother read it. “Do we have all these things?”

On the other end of the spectrum, Isaac always brightened in Ollie’s presence. He fancied the pants off him, but often received a chilly response.

“Yes. I’ll grab them.” Ollie scurried off to a cupboard in the far-left corner of the room.

Isaac smiled at me, tossing his wet hair. “I’ll have you back to normal in no time, honey.”

He worked his hair as if he was inside a commercial. He even looked properly lit.

Ollie sourced the ingredients, firing up the cauldron using the ignition switch on the floor.

“Want me to toss them in?” Isaac asked.

“No!” Ollie retorted a little strongly. He wrinkled his nose, softening his tone slightly. “I’ve got it.”

“Thanks.” Isaac stuck his hands in his pockets, watching him work. “What a day.”

Drake stayed silent, his body feeling pretty rigid beneath me, even from my position. I faced him, getting an eyeful of broken nose.

“Oh! He needs healing.” I pointed a tiny finger at his face.

Isaac immediately moved toward us. “I’ll?—”

“After the spell,” Drake countered, taking a step back.

Isaac looked between us, an eyebrow cocked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please sort Riley out first.”

Wow. Talk about selfless. I’d bashed my nose plenty of times, never breaking it. His must hurt to merry hell.

Bless his cotton socks.

Putting me first got my juices flowing. Big time.

Protective energy was super-hot.

Erin, Jake, and the Brambles all arrived.

“How is it going?” Erin asked.

Thank God it was nice and toasty in the mansion with how soaked most of us were.

Ollie handed Isaac the dried lavender, holding eye contact with him for a few beats too long. Not in a bad way, either. More like a moment of him seeing my brother for the first time.

Isaac took the dried lavender. “Thanks.” Their hands bumped, and Ollie immediately broke his staring, hurrying over to check on his mum.

Hmmm. Interesting.

He cocked his eyebrow in my direction, then approached the cauldron and tossed the lavender into the flames licking around the iron.

The fire flared purple, quickly turning blue. Azure magical energy wafted upward like smoke, forming misty rings around Isaac’s wrists. Golden threads of light cut through the blue, the same glow reaching his eyes.

Connection established.

“Curse Cleanse!” he called, clapping out the magic.

A puff of smoke exploded from the cauldron, releasing a smell like perming lotion.

Yuck. The stink took me back to when I was a kid, sitting with Mum in the hair salon with my coloring book.

The whole place reeked of the ammonia-like stuff for Curly Thursday—the day of discounted perms. It always made my eyes water, leaving a nasty burning sensation at the back of my throat. And I smelled it for days after.

Mum…

I flinched, replaying what the blue figure had shown me and Isaac. Sowing the awful potential that Mum might have done something to him.

To my dad.

Our Dad.

“Four minutes left on the potion,” Isaac said, pulling me back into the moment. My brother’s corded neck pointed me to his anguish. I watched his eyes focus on the digital timer in his hand, practically hearing the cogs of his mind whirr.

By the time the potion was ready, my head swam with Dad and Uncle Jonathon and everything else. The pressure was crushing, my chest a tangle of thorns.

Ollie used the pipet to suck up the khaki green liquid, then handed it to Isaac.

Their hands brushed again, but neither of them reacted from what I could tell.

“Ready?” my brother asked.

“More than ready.”

Drake crouched. I climbed off him, waiting with my mouth wide.

Here comes the choo-choo train, I thought.

“Coming in for a landing,” Isaac said.

Ha! Same wavelength.

He squeezed the contents of the pipet into my mouth. The nasty liquid burned my tongue, the ammonia aroma attacking my senses. I gagged but managed to swallow.

Grim.

The liquid slid down my throat as a thick, languid slug. With a shudder, I sat down. Waiting. Hoping. Not even allowing myself to consider the awful possibility of this curse being permanent.

What a tiny, muddy world it would be.

Oh, God. Life as a mud doll. How would I go about my daily life? Could I still be The Moon in this form?

Why are you already planning it?

A burp escaped my mouth.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, acidic bubbles popping in my throat. “I?—”

Releasing another burp, my limbs expanded, flesh replacing mud. I burped again as every inch of me returned to normal, reforming like a balloon filling with helium. Back to normal with my bare arse cheeks kissing the floorboards.

“Crap!” I covered my modesty, heat blazing in my cheeks.

Everyone turned around respectfully.

“Are you okay?” Isaac asked first.

“Grateful to be back,” I answered, a touch of heartburn irritating my chest. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Drake laid a hand on my head. Warmth bloomed in my skull, drawing a shaky sigh from my lips.

I looked up at him, his dark eyes nothing short of mesmerizing.

Him seeing me naked was absolutely fine. The man had been inside me so, well, yeah.

“I’ll get you something to wear.” He threw me his incredible smile, his voice back to being a seductive purr.

In an ideal world, he’d scoop me into his arms and carry me upstairs for some celebratory nookie. Only, I was filthy and sweaty and not giving away my boy cookies until we’d had that chat.

You caused this…

Drake hurried out of the room, the others following him.

“Where are you going?” I called.