CHAPTER TWO
After a quick shower and long nap with my baby securely wrapped in my arms while being spooned by my husband, I felt like a new person. Gideon never strayed from my side while I slept for hours. In the chaos that had become my life, I felt bizarrely secure with my small family close.
The colors in the master suite were calming—celery green and peach mixed with sage and navy. The furniture was overstuffed and comfortable. Gideon and I had decorated it together. The addition of the bassinette in the corner only made it more beautiful. If only my life could be as serene as our bedroom.
“Gideon?” I whispered, trying not to wake up our daughter.
“Daisy,” he replied, gently twisting my curls in his fingers. The man had my number big time. Having my hair played with was my favorite.
“When you said there might be a way to get Alana Catherine to speak, what did you mean?”
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and sighed. He rolled off the bed and paced the room. Twice he opened his mouth to speak. Twice no words left his lips. My body tensed as our baby opened her eyes and yawned. Gideon, while being occasionally cryptic, like all the Immortals, wasn’t usually cryptic with me.
Gently scooping Alana Catherine up and placing her on the changing table, I busied myself with changing her diaper and dressing her in a pink onesie with tiny purple teddy bears dotting the fabric. She was chubby and perfect. Her gummy smile literally took my breath away and her scent was intoxicating. Keeping my hands busy and my brain focused on her well-being was the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.
I’d just gotten back from something I never wanted to experience again. The cracks of my sanity were starting to show and it was all I could do not to curl up into a ball on the floor and scream. Right now, it was my little girl’s safety that kept me going. Catching a break didn’t seem to be in the near future. The peace I’d felt from napping vanished.
I paused as my daughter looked up at me with adoration in her eyes. Her trust in me was clear. What wasn’t clear was how to prove that her trust wasn’t unwarranted. Yep, I knew that getting straight answers from people who were older than dirt was a challenge. However, that was no longer working for me. Alana Catherine’s life was still on the line, and I wasn’t going to play the game.
“Here’s the deal,” I said to Gideon. “If you know something that will help our child, I’d suggest you spit it out. I love you. I love you more than I thought possible, but you can take care of yourself. I love Alana Catherine more than I love my own life.” I turned and met his pained gaze. “She cannot take care of herself. She’s a baby. If you won’t take responsibility, I’ll go it alone.”
The Grim Reaper’s head tilted to the side in confusion, then he crossed the room so fast I didn’t even see him move. His tight embrace encompassed both me and Alana Catherine.
“Listen to me,” he said with his lips buried in my hair. His voice sounded desperate. “You and our daughter are my reasons for living. Period. Without both of you, there’s no point in existence. Know that, Daisy. Protecting you and Alana Catherine is a given. I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat for both of you.”
I relaxed into his arms and let him take the weight of my body. “Then why won’t you answer the question?”
“Several reasons,” he said, turning me around so we faced each other. “I’m unsure if it can be done. And the method I’ve heard whispers about is dangerous—possibly deadly.”
“To who?” I asked with a sinking feeling.
“The one who performs the spell and the one who receives it.”
“Care to be more specific?” I pressed, already knowing that the method was probably a hard no.
Gideon took my hand and led me over to the settee beneath the window. The afternoon sunlight streaming in cast an angelic glow around the Demon. It was right. The Demon was a better person than many of the Angels I’d met thus far.
“I’ve never witnessed it—the spell,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve only heard tell.” He paused and I waited. If he didn’t explain himself in a timely manner, my knee was awfully close to his junk. “There’s a way to age a person without their consent.”
“More,” I insisted, hoping to the Darkness and back we didn’t have to use this method. However, if the Higher Power was indeed after my baby, the choice might not be ours to make. Discovering what Alana Catherine knew was imperative.
Gideon pressed his temples and looked like he truly wanted to do some property damage. I wasn’t far behind.
“I think it’s a bad plan,” he finally said. “Again, if the stories are true, Candy Vargo knows how to cast the spell.”
“Okay,” I said, trying to understand what was basically incomprehensible. “Candy Vargo’s still alive and well. If she’s cast this spell before, then she did it correctly.”
“If,” Gideon reminded me. “ If she cast the spell, then, yes, it was successful. Doesn’t mean it will be again. Risking both Alana Catherine and Candy would be catastrophic.”
“Got it,” I said, standing up. “Air. I need fresh air and our little one does too.”
Alana Catherine squealed. An honest and very real smile pulled at the corner of my lips.
“I think that’s a good plan,” Gideon said, taking our daughter from my arms and cuddling her close. His demeanor changed on a dime. With a sly smile and a twinkle in his eyes, he winked at me. “There might or might not be a surprise waiting outside for you two.”
“Umm… I’ve kind of had enough surprises lately,” I admitted with a weak laugh, taking in the beauty of the image of a father holding his daughter.
“This is one you’ll love. I promise.”
“Works for me,” I said, grabbing a jacket for Alana Catherine. “Show me the surprise.”
“With pleasure,” Gideon said with a grin that made both me and Alana Catherine giggle.
If only life could be filled with good surprises and giggles. That was my new goal. Reaching it might be tricky, but I’d never been one to give up.
“Hang on, people,” Candy Vargo said as we stepped out of the master suite and into the hallway. “We need to talk.”
Apparently, the surprise would have to wait…
Wanting my surprise, I cut right to the chase. “The answer is no to the spell,” I told her firmly.
The Keeper of Fate squinted at me in confusion. She scratched her head, then her rear end, and then her head again. “What in tarnation are you talkin’ about?”
“The spell you can cast to age Alana Catherine without consent so she can tell us why the Higher Power wants her.”
“What in the ever-lovin’ corn nuts are you yackity smackin’ about?” Candy Vargo grunted as she pushed Gideon, Alana Catherine and me back into the bedroom.
“Wait,” Now I was confused. “Aren’t you capable of casting a spell that can do that?”
“Heck to the no siree. Who told you that bull malarky?” she demanded.
Her choice of words almost made me forget what I’d just asked. I’d never heard Candy Vargo say bull malarky or corn nuts in my life. She was more of an f-bomb user.
“I did,” Gideon cut in, looking at her with a perplexed expression.
I wasn’t sure if it was her vernacular or the fact that she couldn’t cast the spell.
“Don’t know where you heard that humpermother,” she said with an eye roll.
“My bad,” Gideon said.
“I should say so,” she shot back.
He raised a brow. “I did say so.”
Candy Vargo prepared to flip the Grim Reaper the bird, but then, in a bizarrely shocking turn of events— literally—she electrocuted her own hand before her middle finger fully extended.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I asked as she slapped out the flames. Candy was strange, but her behavior right now was flat-out abnormal. Flipping the bird was a sign of affection as far as she was concerned.
Candy paled considerably and my gut tightened. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, clearly lying.
“Did another message come in from the Higher Power?” Gideon ground out.
“No. I woulda led with that, idiot,” she told Gideon with another eye roll that beat the first. She stared at both of us like we’d gone and lost it.
Granted, I was close but I still had a few wits about me left.
“Well, you walking in here saying that we had to talk while refraining from even using one f-bomb set my radar off,” I told her. “It’s been kinda crazy lately. You feel me?”
Candy chuckled and popped a few toothpicks into her mouth. “I’ll leave the feelin’ up to Gideon—if you know what I mean. And the chat I wanna have ain’t nothin’ life threatenin’—at least not right now,” she promised as she offered Gideon and me a pick.
We declined.
The three of us stood in awkward silence and stared at each other. Alana Catherine babbled happily in Gideon’s arms. Candy Vargo was rarely at a loss for words—especially four-letter ones. Her hushed behavior was unnerving.
“Umm… Candy,” I said with some trepidation. “Would you like to get to the reason you came up here?” I only wanted good surprises for the rest of the day. I’d had too many terrible ones to count recently.
She groaned as she crossed the room and flopped down onto the armchair next to the bed. The woman was the hottest mess around. Her sweats had seen better days. Her socks were mismatched and her tennis shoes should have been tossed into the garbage in the 1980s. The Keeper of Fate was actually a very pretty woman, but she unconsciously did her very best to disguise it.
“Alrighty,” she said as her chin dropped to her chest. “We got lots goin’ on right now. My issue ain’t at the top of nobody’s list, but I need some help.”
Gideon shot me an alarmed glance. I shot it right back. Candy Vargo was the OG of badasses. Her power and knowledge were unparalleled. Her name alone could strike fear in any Immortal. I was hella glad she was on my team. Her needing help with anything seemed odd. I mean, maybe with fashion, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t why she was here.
“Candy,” I said, treading warily. There was no telling what would come out of her mouth. “How can we help you?”
Her spitting the toothpicks out of her mouth and onto the carpet made me wince. When she reached down and picked up the saliva-covered pieces of wood, I was relieved. However, when she put them back into her mouth, it was all I could do not to gag.
“I’m feelin’ real bad,” she finally said. “Like really, really, really bad.”
“You’re sick?” I asked. As far as I knew, Immortals didn’t get ill.
She wrinkled her nose then blessed us with the third massive eye roll of the conversation. “Don’t get sick.”
I was thrown that not one potty word had left her mouth. This wasn’t typical for her. My body felt like a tightly coiled spring about to pop. Candy with a clean vocab was freaking ominous.
“Okay, then what?” I asked.
She blew out a long slow breath while not losing one single toothpick in her mouth. It was impressive. “I’m kinda feelin’ like a ham sandwich somebody left on the dashboard in July. Or like somebody beat my rump with a sack full of nickels. Useless… like the G in lasagna. You know what I mean?”
Shockingly, I did. “I do. But I don’t know why you do.”
“Guilt,” she announced. “Feelin’ guilty as all get out. It’s eatin’ me alive.”
I glanced over at Gideon. He just shrugged and shook his head. This conversation was like pulling teeth. “Why?”
“It’s Gram,” Candy said, sounding despondent. “That mouth on her is like a dang septic tank that ain’t been cleaned in a century.” The nutty woman marched around the room, punched herself in the head twice then spanked her own bottom. The kicker was when she stomped over to the bathroom and returned with a half a bar of soap in her mouth then plopped back down into the chair. We watched in horror as she chewed the soap, swallowed and then burped loudly. The only one who thought it was funny was Alana Catherine who tried to imitate Candy with moderate success. I was just relieved she hadn’t lost her cookies.
Of course, Candy Vargo was now looking a little green around the gills… and she wasn’t done.
“Gram sounds like a wasted sailor who drank all the rum on the ship. Told her she was makin’ my rump itch with that kinda poopy talk. I threatened to jerk her bald and I even told her I was gonna cream her corn. That old bat just laughed like a dang hyena and strung together enough swear words to singe the curly hairs right out of my ears and nose. And it’s all MY fault. That old lady is downstairs spewing so much filth that I almost had a heart attack. AND I can’t have no heart attack. I think I finally understand why Gram always wants to wash my mouth out with soap.” She paused, swallowed, then burped again. “Soap ain’t tasty. So, I’m fixin’ to shove her head into the toilet and flush it seventy-five times. I can’t have that old woman talkin’ like that!”
I really wanted to laugh. I didn’t. It was unclear if Gram was using reverse psychology on Candy or if she’d lost her ghostly mind after the trip to the Higher Power’s plane. If I had to take a guess, I’d say it was a little of both. Gideon couldn’t contain himself and did a piss poor job of masking his laugh with an obnoxious coughing fit.
“Go get you a drink of water,” Candy Vargo yelled at him. “I can’t be pourin’ out my heart while you choke to death.”
I gave Gideon a little push. “Take Alana Catherine and go downstairs,” I told him as the coughing and laughing continued.
The love of my life gave me a grateful glance and hightailed it out of the room. Candy didn’t need anyone laughing at her. As often as I wanted to headbutt the woman, I wanted to hug her even more often. Now was one of the hugging times. I crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed next to her. “Talk to me.”
Oh Daisy,” she lamented. The soap had met the saliva, and bubbles floated out of her mouth as she spoke. It was difficult to concentrate on what she was saying, but I was a fairly good multi-tasker. “I’m responsible for Gram’s crap mouth. It’s just killin’ me. I need help. I don’t think she’d like getting’ her head flushed.”
“Pretty sure you’re correct on that,” I told her. Granted, Gram was a ghost and wouldn’t be able to feel it, but in this case, it would be the thought that counted.
“I’m goin’ cold turkey on the fucks,” she announced, looking horrified at her own words. “I’m thinkin’ to lead by example and get Gram off the cussin’.”
I nodded, afraid if I spoke, I would shriek with laughter.
“Yep,” she said, hopping to her feet and leaving a trail of bubbles in her wake. “I need you to give me a cuss word and I’m gonna come up with the replacement.”
This wasn’t what I was expecting at all. But Candy Vargo was unpredictable.
“Wait. What?” I asked. “You want a list?”
“Roger that,” she said, brightening up considerably. “That’s what I need. A list!”
Pressing my lips together, I decided to just go with it. I didn’t need an upset and distracted Keeper of Fate. Our immediate future was bleak, and I needed my trusted people on their toes. A list was a small ask to make her happy. “Well… let’s start with the word fuck.”
“One of my favorites,” Candy said, shaking her head in sorrow. “Maybe I can substitute it with shart or fudge.”
“Interesting,” I said. Again, doing my best not to crack a smile. The gal was serious. “I think fudge might be better than shart.” Never did I think I would speak those words in that order in my life.
“I can see that,” she said, offering me a toothpick.
This time I took it.
“I’ll keep shart as a backup for fudge,” she informed me. “I think mothersharter might be stronger than motherfudger. Right?”
“Absolutely,” I assured her. “Next, how about a replacement word for shit?”
“I’m thinkin’ either shucks or balls,” she said, holding her hand up. “Also, I’d like to get your take on using anatomically correct terms for body parts instead of curse words. ”
I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Like?”
“You know,” she said. “Like vagina, buttocks, penis, testicles, balls, bosom… stuff like that. They ain’t bad words—just body parts. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with body parts. Also, I’d like to point out that an ass is a donkey and a bitch is a female dog.”
I wished I hadn’t asked. “More interesting observations.” Staying as neutral as possible was the way to go. Just the thought of her shouting vagina as much as she shouted the word fuck was not a good look. “Maybe leave the body parts as a last resort—like when you’re really pissed.”
“Sounds like plan,” she agreed. The woman looked rabid now as the soap had lathered up and was leaking out of her mouth. “Keep goin’ with the list.”
“Okay, ass as in asshole. That’s one you use often.”
“True that,” she said with a frothy grin. “How about bahookey? Bahookeyhole has a nice ring to it.”
“Sure,” I replied. Unable to stop myself, I picked up a burp cloth and wiped her mouth. She barely noticed. “Umm… how about bullshit and umm… dick?”
“I’m thinkin’ bullspit for bullshit and either corn nuts or Merlin’s magic nards for dick.”
I grinned. It couldn’t be helped. Merlin’s magic nards was simply too much. “I’m good with all of that.”
“Excellent,” she said, standing up and giving me a hug. “I don’t want to sound like a shart or nothin’, but I gotta teach Gram some motherfudgin’ manners. That old broad has gone off the fartin’ deep end.” She paused in thought. “I think that fart, which is a natural bodily function, is a fine replacement for damn.”
“You know,” I said, swallowing back a scream. “I think damn is pretty neutral. Not sure you need to exchange it for fart.”
“Daisy,” Candy said, shaking her head. “If I’m gonna do it, I’m doin’ it all the way. I’d also like to say it’s gonna be real vagina hard to keep all this corn nut penis straight. Might mess up a little here and there.”
“Not a problem,” I said, taking her hand in mine and giving her foaming mouth one last swipe with the burp cloth. “I’d expect nothing less. You ready to go back downstairs as the new and improved cussless Candy Vargo?”
“Hades to the yes, I am,” she said with a grin. “And I ain’t one to be mushy and all that corn nuts bosoms, but I got a real soft spot for you, Daisy.”
“Right back at you, Candy,” I told her.
If only all my problems could be this easy to solve…