Page 20 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Moonlight (Midlife Menace #2)
I should’ve been in a good mood after last night with my Latin sphinx, for he’d taken his purr game to the next level, leaving me breathless from an abundance of orgasms. And, yes, I was certainly in a good mood when I’d fallen asleep in his arms. That good mood continued when I woke up to the most delicious cappuccino I’d ever had in my life.
I didn’t even mind the insult scribbled across my cup when Ric had translated it for me, calling me a whiny siren.
I didn’t mind when he left me to shower while he ate his breakfast alone in the basement.
I did mind when my boyfriend and I were forced to part at the family breakfast table, he at one end, beside Frederica and Ethyl, and me at the other, as he said was custom for the hosts.
I had to practically yell for the other end to hear me when I asked Ethyl what happened to Shu.
She yelled back that he was out for a morning jog.
I felt worlds apart from my boyfriend, but at least I was seated beside my darling son.
Then I noticed that glitter kiss smear still on my son’s cheek, and my mama hackles rose. My son, the same boy who had to wash his hands thirty times a day, somehow found a way to overcome his sensory disorder for the Enchantress’s lipstick.
Gag.
“Des, sweetie.” Not wanting him to see my agitation, I plastered on my most passive smile. “You need to wash your face.” I dunked my cloth napkin in my water, determined to erase the Enchantress’s claim on my son.
“No, Mama!” He arched back, swatting my hand away as if I had the plague!
My heart faltered. This wasn’t like my sweet boy. “You might get acne.”
He frowned. “I won’t.” Then he placed his hand on his cheek, light pulsing from his fingers.
I was horrified when he pulled his hand away. That lipstick mark was still there, only glossier, as if he’d applied clear sealant to it.
Troll dung!
Swallowing back my sorrow, I tried my hardest to keep my composure while digging my fingers into the table’s iron frame. “No more magic in front of her, please, especially no more flowers.”
“Why, Mama?” His wide, innocent eyes made my mother’s heart implode.
Frustration pounded a nail into my skull. “I already explained why,” I said, regretting the bite in my tone when he flinched.
“Luci,” Ric warned in a deep rumble, his nostrils flaring, “she’s coming.”
I forced a smile when the Enchantress breezed onto the patio, accompanied by the familiar scents of vanilla and lavender, and glitter, so, so much glitter that swirled around her like a toxic dust cloud.
I could practically feel the preteen hormones pulsing off Des as he straightened, his eyes wide with infatuation as he followed her every move.
Her frightening bodyguard slithered after her, lingering in the shadows, her thick serpent’s tail coiled while she rested against a marble column.
Ric stood, one watchful eye on Nimue while he walked to the center of the table and pulled out a chair for the Enchantress. “Good morning.”
Refusing to sit, she arched a brow. “Is it?”
His smile appeared frozen in place as he returned to his seat. “Absolutely.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed on Frederica. “I should still be abed, but I was startled awake by the sound of clomping hooves ricocheting through the halls.”
Ethyl paled, elbowing her lover. “I told you to be quiet, Freddie.”
Frederica cut the Enchantress a dark look, her nostrils flaring as she abruptly stood. “I was.” Much to her discredit, she stomped back into the house, sounding like a cow crossing a cattle guard.
I hadn’t noticed until this moment how very loud she walked.
It wasn’t like she could help it, though.
How else was a half-ton unseen creature with hooves supposed to sound?
It didn’t escape my notice that the Enchantress liked to make cutting remarks about Frederica while treating her like a servant.
I wondered why the influencer seemed to have a grudge against the minotaur.
So much for her trollshit about treating all creatures with kindness.
I suppose that applied only to the Enchantress’s followers and not her.
“It’s fine,” the Enchantress drawled, not even acknowledging that she’d driven away Frederica while she sat beside Ethyl on the vacated concrete bench seat instead of a regular chair.
Ethyl’s cheeks paled and then flamed, and she appeared ready to pass out from fright as she gaped at the Enchantress, who didn’t even acknowledge my cousin.
Why such a waif of a woman needed a bench meant for a heifer was beyond me, unless, of course, it was because the bench was next to Ric. I bristled when she scooted closer to him.
“I realize sometimes minotaurs don’t know their own strength,” the Enchantress continued in her unaffected drawl that was starting to grate on my nerves.
Something about the way she spoke of Frederica made the grudge sound personal.
“It will just take a little extra magic to get rid of these under-eye circles.” She frowned, motioning to her eyes, which were flawless.
I wanted to know what spell she used, but I was too proud to ask. Besides, the Phoenix would already know how to diminish her own eye bags.
The Enchantress cast an anxious glance toward the door. “I sent Bea for my caffè order, but she seems to have disappeared.”
“I’m here, my Enchantress.” Bea fluttered into the room, a frazzled look in her pale eyes while she clutched a steaming paper cup of coffee with words scribbled on the side in big, black ink. “I’m sorry, but there was a misunderstanding with the barista.”
A chill swept through me when the Enchantress glowered at the small sprite, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for Bea, for I had a feeling she wasn’t treated well by her boss.
The influencer held out her hand. “Is that my caffè?”
Bea fluttered backward, her wings buzzing faster than a possessed hummingbird while she held the cup out of the Enchantress’s reach. “The barista refuses to make a new one.”
The Enchantress arched a brow, impatiently tapping the table with a long fingernail. “Latte with two shots of espresso and extra froth?”
The sprite’s eyes gleamed. “Yes.”
Nimue slithered forward, snatching the cup from the sprite with a snarl before handing it to the Enchantress.
“Thank you, Nimue,” the Enchantress said, giving her creepy bodyguard a sultry smile before taking a slow sip of the frothy beverage. “Oh, this is heavenly.” She gave her servant an accusatory look. “Why would you say there’s something wrong with it?”
The sprite let out a terrified scream that was so shrill, it sounded like glass shattering.
Des covered his ears, and I flinched when the sprite’s screams grew more high-pitched as she fluttered back and smacked into a marble column.
Ric and I jumped up when the sprite slid down the column with a groan, fainting on the floor.
I was concerned she’d hurt herself, though I couldn’t deny I was also relieved she’d stopped screaming.
Goddess, with such a shrill voice, she could trigger every demon from here to Hades.
What had caused her to act that way? Was she that terrified of Nimue and the Enchantress? If so, why? Did they abuse her?
Ric hurried toward Bea. “Is she all right?”
“Leave her!” the Enchantress commanded, her voice going surprisingly deep for a moment. She matched my glare with one of her own while slowly sipping her beverage. “Bea faints at least once a day. She’ll snap out of it eventually.”
Ric and I shared shocked expressions as we both sat back down. She fainted at least once a day? And did she scream like that too?
“Has she been to a healer?” I asked.
“It’s something sprites do.” The Enchantress waved away my concern as Nimue hoisted Bea into her arms and laid her on a lounge chair beside the pool. “Now, about my latte,” she said to me with a sneer.
I gaped at her a moment before finding my voice. “The barista leaves insults on everyone’s cups.”
Eyes narrowing, she leaned toward me. “What does it say?”
I shrugged, giving Ric a helpless look from across the table. “I can’t read Italian.”
She turned toward Ric with a smile so sweet, I felt my blood sugar rising while she stroked his tanned arm. Or maybe it was my blood pressure. Come to think of it, it was definitely my blood pressure.
Ric frowned at the cup. “It doesn’t make much sense. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
She continued stroking his arm, her hand going up his short sleeve. “Tell me,” she cooed, batting fake lashes.
Anger boiled my blood, and I fought the urge to zap her hand with a bone breaking spell as my own bones began to rattle. Digging my fingers into the table, I breathed out a slow breath, knowing I had to get control of my anger before I created another earthquake.
Ric grimaced, then stared at me like a gnome caught in a flashlight. “Loosely translated, it means ‘smells like cow farts.’”
“Oh.” Her eyes flared. “This must be the minotaur’s cappuccino.”
Ethyl slumped in her seat. “Freddie already drank hers.”
Ignoring Ethyl, the Enchantress cut me a glare that could melt the fine line minimizer right off my face. “So, this is how you treat your honored guests?”
Honored? Who in Hades said she was honored? “You’re blaming me for this?” I blurted.
Ric loudly cleared his throat. “Luci has no control over my barista. Like I said, Emilio does this to all of us.”
She refused to take her angry gaze off me. “What does your cup say?”
My face heated as my gaze darted to my son. “Moans louder than a bubonic troll,” I mumbled, hoping Des thought the barista had meant when I was on the toilet after accidentally ingesting gluten.
“Interesting. Then again, I can see why.” Slanting a smile in my boyfriend’s direction, she continued to stroke his arm. “I’ve heard about your old nickname, Conde Romero. Tell me, does it still hold true?”