Page 15 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Moonlight (Midlife Menace #2)

M irror, mirror, on the wall, who has the deepest eye bags of them all?

Me, which was why I tried, and failed, to enhance my appearance with a simple lift spell.

Something about lift spells... they’re hard, even for alpha witches, which was why I was now staring at protruding bags that looked like my under eyes had fat rolls. I was so hexed!

All I’d wanted to do was enhance my eyes while refreshing that tired look that moms got when they spent too many years changing diapers and wiping boogers while their husbands barely lifted a finger.

Was it too much to ask that I wanted to shave five, okay, ten years off my face?

Was I being vain and stupid while desperately clinging to youth?

Actually, don’t answer that.

Growing older is not for the faint of heart, especially after your troll-boil of an ex-husband replaced you with a much younger, much stupider, much boobier model.

“Luci, are you almost ready? Ric is getting impatient.” Ethyl fluttered into the bathroom, a cloud of bubblegum-scented rainbow sparkles trailing in her wake.

“Not yet,” I answered while shielding my eyes.

She landed on the counter beside me, her short legs dangling over the side.

“Why are you hiding your eyes?” she teased, mirth in her voice as she peeled back my fingers.

She released me with a gasp when my eye bags popped out like middle-age muffin tops escaping too-tight jeans. “Goddess, what happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” I grumbled while dabbing firming cream under my eyes.

She wrinkled her pert little nose, her eyes flashing violet. “Did you get stung by scorpion sprites?”

“No.” I refrained from rolling my eyes while trying not to gag on the strong smell of her perfume. “It was a simple youth spell.”

She arched back. “You’re trying to look younger?”

I averted my gaze. “I was just trying to get rid of my eye circles.”

She let out a snort laugh. “Is Luci trying to impress the Enchantress?”

“Hush!” I glanced over my shoulder, as if the Enchantress would materialize any moment and witness my shame.

She picked up my compact powder. “Let me put some makeup on your eyes.”

“No!” Annoyed, I waved her away. “I’m going to reverse the spell.” At least, I sure as hex hoped I could.

Ethyl frowned, giving me the same look whenever she caught Puffy up to no good. “I think you should leave your eyes alone.”

Ignoring her, I recited a simple reversal spell and waved my lipstick wand over my eyes, pleased when those muffin tops began to recede. “There.” I faced Ethyl. “How was that?”

“Eek!” She fluttered back, nearly knocking my cosmetics off the counter. “You look like a corpse!”

I gasped when I peered at my reflection. My eye sockets looked worse than ever, like two dark sinkholes! “Troll dung!”

When I held up my wand again, she grasped my wrist. “Stop with the magic!”

I shook out of her grip. “I’ll just revert back to factory settings.”

“No!” She swatted the wand from my hand. “I’ll use makeup.”

With a wary sigh, I reluctantly agreed, even though I didn’t think there was much hope. Fortunately, age reversal spells didn’t last long, and my zombie eye sockets should return to middle-aged, overworked mother eye bags by tomorrow.

Ethyl started with a thick coat of concealer. “So, why are you trying to impress the Enchantress?”

“I’m not,” I lied, refusing to meet her hard stare.

She clucked her tongue. “Luci, don’t lie to me. I know you too well.”

“I want to look good.” I gritted my teeth, trying not to think of the Enchantress’s flawless complexion or pouty, shimmery lips. “She’ll probably have her camera rolling.”

“Her camera rolling?” Ethyl tossed back her head, letting out an obnoxious cackle. “ Now you’re showing your age.”

“Stop with the age jokes,” I snapped, not meaning to sound like a grumpy hag.

“What do you care?” she asked while dabbing more concealer under my eyes. “Your boyfriend is over a hundred.”

My shoulders caved inward while I caught my reflection in the mirror. The dark circles were less pronounced. I’d gone from an undead corpse to a witch infected with Dracula Ebola. “Give it ten more years and you’ll understand.”

I closed my eyes when she dabbed powder on my face.

“Ric doesn’t seem to care about your age,” she said. “And neither should you.”

I wanted to argue, though I was afraid of choking on powder.

I worried she was using too much, and that stuff had cost me a small fortune.

By the time she was finished, I was pleased to find I no longer looked like I was dying, though my eyes didn’t look that much better than when I’d first started.

“Colin did,” I grumbled, knowing it was unfair to compare my amazing boyfriend to my ex.

“Colin is a Douche McDouchy Face.” Ethyl sat on my cosmetics, the plastic crinkling beneath her weight. “Luci, look at me.” She cupped my chin, her eyes softening to a pale blue. “Ric is not Colin.”

I dropped my gaze. “I know that.”

“Do you think he’ll fall in love with the Enchantress?”

I shrugged. “Everyone else has.”

“Not me!” Ethyl blurted a little too forcefully. “I admire the Enchantress, and I love her style. That’s it.”

I gave her a skeptical look, just as Shu strolled into the bathroom, attitude locked and loaded.

He waved his wand like a diva on steroids. “Definitely not me. She’s not my type.”

“What’s your type?” Ethyl asked as she helped herself to my brand-new lip gloss.

“Doy!” Cocking his hip to the side, he drew a smoky outline of a big, muscular striga with the tip of his wand. “Tall, tan, handsome, hung.”

“That sounds like Ric!” Ethyl blurted.

“Shh!” I scolded. “He’ll hear you.”

Ethyl smirked, then pulled out the eye paints and studied my face as if she was walking onto a battlefield.

By the time she was finished, my face felt five pounds heavier. I looked in the mirror and gasped at the stranger with the two-ton eyelashes reflecting back at me.

Shu leaned over me, his eyes widening. “What in the holy Tammy-Fae-Nightmare-on-Mascara-Street is going on in here?”

I was afraid to touch my face and put a dent in the veneer. “That’s a lot of makeup, Ethyl.”

“I know.” Just like Dr. Frankenstein, she beamed at her creation. “Don’t stand under a heat lamp or in the sun too long, and you’ll be fine.”

“Sheesh, Ethyl, we’re going to the coast. Shu, what do you think?” It felt like I had tarantulas sticking to my lashes as I blinked up at my fairy godfather, not reassured by his horrified expression.

“You look Cheriffic, homegirl,” he said through frozen features. “Now, let’s jet.”

Cheriffic? Oh, jeez.

After I thanked Ethyl for her artistry, we followed her downstairs, and I was grateful to Shu for holding my hand, lest I tip over with the added weight on my head.

Ric gawked at me with shock in his eyes before letting out a low whistle, catcalling me like I was a lady of the night.

Frederica let out a startled moo.

And just when I didn’t think I could sink any lower, my son regarded me curiously, and I imagined him wondering if the arachnid-eyed monster had eaten his mommy.

“Ready, everyone?” Ric asked while holding out his hand to me.

Des kept blinking at me like I was a stranger. “You look different, Mama.”

“Doesn’t she look glam?” Ethyl squeaked.

Frederica let out a cross between a moo and a laugh.

“I just wanted to be presentable for the camera,” I mumbled.

“You look good enough to eat,” Ric purred in my ear, his rumble rattling my bones.

Note to self: sphinxes like trashy women . Good to know, since my life was a dumpster fire, anyway.

When he snaked a hand around my waist, his fingers dangerously creeping toward the underside of my breast, I elbowed him in the ribs. “Later,” I whispered. So long as he didn’t fall in love with the Enchantress first.

MY AMAZING SON HAD done it! One moment, we were standing in the center of Ric’s tropical mansion, and the next, we were inside the lower deck salon of my former in-laws’ luxury yacht, standing on plush shag carpet that should’ve been banished four decades ago.

Though it was an older yacht, it was big and flashy, which was what my ex’s thrift store billionaire parents liked.

As far as I was aware, the boat’s interior hadn’t been updated since the ’80s, but that hadn’t bothered me.

All that mattered was that my son had a fun time on his grandparents’ boat.

He usually did, except when my in-laws were screaming obscenities at each other at the dinner table, or when my mother-in-law was nagging Des to stop slouching, or when my father-in-law was trying to sneak alcohol into Des’s juice, or when Colin was perpetually ignoring him.

Otherwise, my son loved to go on Papi’s boat, which was why I’d chosen this location as our meeting spot.

That, and I didn’t think anyone would search for us here.

Ric let go of my hand, walking around the room with feline grace like a cat on the prowl. “Are you sure your ex won’t be here?”

I nodded, smiling at Des as he went behind the bar and helped himself to a juice. “His family only uses the boat on weekends.”

“Oh, my!” Jaw dropping, Shu spun a slow circle. “Bodacious digs! Just like Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous ! Call Robin Leach.”

Ethyl scratched the back of her head, her eyes wrinkling in confusion. “Who?”

Ignoring them, I clutched my lipstick wand in a tight grip, more concerned with making sure Ric didn’t find any threats.

Frederica helped him look outside the windows, the 80-foot boat slightly tilting with her movement.

She was still in her unseen form, since she didn’t want to stomp around as a longhorn in her seen form.

She wore a ten-gallon blonde beehive wig to cover her dildo horns, which, unfortunately, only made her stand out more.

I didn’t say anything, though, because I was hoping we would be able to pop in and out in a few minutes.

Shu’s smile grew while he admired the ostentatious furnishing. “I absolutely must have their decorator’s name!”