Page 3 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Moonlight (Midlife Menace #2)

“Sorry about that.” Ric gave her an apologetic shrug. “Those mercenaries hunting us gave me no choice.”

Ric took my hand, leading me to the side of the truck.

He removed suitcases from the truck bed, tossing them into the air.

They somehow floated into the jungle. No doubt, Ric had ghost servants here too.

I tugged at my stifling collar as the jungle heat burrowed under my clothes like sticky dew.

Good thing we had packed warm-weather clothes just in case the mercenaries found us.

I sure hoped this island had a house with air-conditioning and we weren’t forced to sleep in huts and spear for fish, because I would sure miss Ric’s mansion with the chef’s kitchen and hot tub.

When I felt a bead of sweat drip between my breasts, I tugged at my collar again.

I glanced at Des, who let out a hoot when he saw his backpack floating into the air, and I was reminded why we were here.

We had to protect my son, the Phoenix, a once-in-a-half-millennium witch with unusually powerful magic.

Though the demons hopefully still believed me to be the Phoenix, my aunt—the leader of the Insurgi, a rebel witch cult—knew Des was the Phoenix, and for some reason, she’d gotten it into her head that Des and I were supposed to serve her.

“So you said we’re perfectly safe?” I reminded Ric.

“The island is heavily warded,” Ric said as he tossed the final suitcase into the air, “and it’s the last place the Insurgi will look.”

The last place the Insurgi would look? I shook my head to clear the fog. “Where would that be?”

The lion flashed in his eyes. “The Sirenum Scopuli Islands.”

“Totally warped!” Shu wagged his head as if for emphasis.

“What?” I gasped. The Sirenum Scopuli Islands, located near Capri, Italy, were dangerous.

Magical wards prevented humans from seeing or accessing the islands, forcing them to go around for good reason.

“We’re surrounded by man-eating sirens and magic-canceling coral.

” I clutched my wand, relieved to feel the magic still buzzing inside it. Weird.

“Technically, they only eat males.” Ric slanted a smile while nodding toward Frederica, Ethyl, and me.

“So you ladies can enjoy the beach without worry.” He turned toward Des, ruffling his hair.

“They don’t eat children, but since you are on the cusp of manhood, you will have to stick to the pool, buddy. ”

I should’ve been shocked that Ric was allowed to muss Des’s hair without my autistic son having a meltdown, but over the past four weeks, Ric and Des had formed a bond that still amazed me.

It was more than just a friendship, more than just my boyfriend trying to earn points with my son.

It was a bond between a Phoenix and his protector.

Honestly, every time Ric showed Des affection, and Des didn’t have a negative reaction, I wanted to bawl happy tears.

But hang on—the cusp of manhood? Was he for real?

Des was only twelve. I almost jerked away from Ric when he tugged my hand, leading me toward a stone path framed by tiki lamps carved into the jungle.

I glanced over my shoulder as everyone followed us.

“My family mined all the coral around this island centuries ago. Your magic works within the wards,” Ric continued.

I gaped at the strange, colorful birds hovering in the trees above us as sunbeams struck us from between thick, palmy leaves.

Ethyl fluttered next to us, her rainbow-hued wings blowing back my hair. “And what about food and supplies?”

“We have enough dry food storage to last decades, plus our own extensive gardens with all kinds of fruits and vegetables, and an unlimited supply of fish in the western bay, which is blocked off from sirens,” Ric answered. “We can stay here indefinitely.”

Indefinitely? Well, at least until Ethyl’s prescription ran out. My jaw nearly hit the ground when we emerged from the jungle and the thick foliage gave way to the most beautiful mansion I’d ever seen, with tall Greek columns and ivory terraces overlooking an infinity pool and a vast, tranquil sea.

“Come, I’ll take you on a tour.” Ric tugged my hand. “Then we’ll get breakfast.” The beast flashed in his eyes again, making my knees quake and my ovaries nearly explode. “I’m famished.”

So was I, but not for food. Escaping mercenaries did something to my libido, and so did the warm ocean breeze and the musky pheromones radiating off my boyfriend. I had a feeling I was going to enjoy our stay.

RIC LED US BACK TO the house after a short walking tour of the twenty-acre island, which had a beautiful cove with white sandy beaches, a jungle, and even a covered dock with a few high-speed boats.

Though I’d only gotten a glimpse of the beach at the other end of the island from the edge of the jungle, I hadn’t seen any sirens, but Ric reassured me they were there, one reason he didn’t dare go beyond the line of trees.

His gorgeous Grecian-style manor, with tall marble columns and open, airy porticos, sat on the highest point of the island, facing the infinity pool, which overlooked the sharp drop to the ocean below.

I thought I spotted shadows of islands in the distance, but when a thick mist rolled across the ocean, it was hard to see beyond the waves that battered the cliffside.

I was grateful Des was old enough to know better than to go too close to the edge of the cliff, though the sharp drop still made me nervous.

A buffet of juice, fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and crepes (which Ric reassured me were gluten-free) was waiting for us on the stone patio beside the pool.

Ric disappeared into the house to dine in private.

I imagined the lion inside him somewhere in the basement, slurping down a whale carcass in order to satisfy his ravenous appetite.

I anxiously awaited his return, peeking through the sliding glass doors of the large island home into what was probably a sunroom, with pretty wicker and floral island furniture.

I fixed Des a plate, making sure the eggs and crepes didn’t touch each other.

Then I got him a bowl of fruit, since the juice would leak onto the other food and cause him to have a mini meltdown.

I set him up at a pretty wicker table beneath the shade of a canvas patio cover.

Then I fixed myself a plate and sat at the table with Des and Ethyl while poor Frederica was forced to stand because none of the furniture looked strong enough to hold her weight.

Ric returned to us with a freshly washed face and a clean shirt.

He sat at the other end of the table, far enough away to avoid accidentally devouring the platter of crepes in one swallow.

Yes, he’d done that a few weeks ago with a rack of lamb.

It was not a pretty sight. That was the day I decided to remove those edible panties from my online shopping cart.

“I’ll have the servants bring in a stone bench for luncheon,” he said to Frederica.

Frederica nodded. “Danke.”

I’d been around her long enough to know it meant “thanks” in German.

Ethyl asked about coffee, but Ric’s face colored. “After breakfast. I’ll need to go over the coffee protocol first.”

Coffee protocol? I would’ve pressed him on it, but I was too engrossed in the fresh-squeezed juice, an explosion of tropical fruits in my mouth.

And the crepes were otherworldly, stuffed with a creamy herb and mushroom sauce, ham, and cheese.

I could live on those crepes for an eternity.

Even Des devoured his crepes, surprising for a kid who preferred to eat pizza for every meal.

We helped ourselves to seconds and even thirds, and I was feeling better about our confinement.

Magic-canceling coral? Oh, well. Man-eating sirens?

So what? Demons and mercenaries hunting us?

No biggie, as long as we had foodgasmic crepes!

Puffy enjoyed the crepes too. Though he remained invisible, I could feel his wings fluttering around me as crepe after crepe disappeared from the platter.

Ordinarily, I would’ve been agitated by the little pastry pilfer, but after he’d helped us battle demons, I had a new appreciation for him.

He was welcome to snag a few crepes, so long as I didn’t find white splatters of dragon doo on the table.

I wiped my face with a cloth napkin while being secretly envious of Frederica, who was on her sixth serving of crepes.

Oh, to be a seven-foot dildo-horned minotaur with an endless appetite who didn’t have to worry about an extra ten, twenty, or even fifty pounds when you could just blame it on thick fur.

After the ghost servants cleared the table, Ric sat beside me. He leaned back in his chair and motioned toward the beautiful infinity pool. “Well, what do you think?”

“Other than the sirens, I think it’s amazing.”

“They won’t bother you.” Ric squeezed my hand and let out a deep, throaty, panty-wetting purr. “Promise.”

I got lost in the swirls of his golden eyes, and it took all my self-control not to pretend he was a crepe, fall to my knees, and devour him.

“And lack of coffee,” Ethyl added, her wings drooping. “I need my morning energy boost.”

I gave my friend a sympathetic smile. Truthfully, Ethyl needed more energy as much as I needed that extra five pounds I’d gained while locked up in Ric’s mansion.

Turns out, sex every night wasn’t enough exercise to burn off all that extra wine, pizza, and cinnamon rolls while sitting on the sofa all day and watching Golden Girls reruns with Shu, though I could definitely go for a cappuccino with extra foam.

Ric’s cheeks turned crimson as he squeezed my hand harder. “Before I summon the barista, there’s something I need to tell you.”

My spine stiffened at the concern in his eyes. “What?” Was the barista the ghost of his former lover, or, gasp, did she make terrible coffee?

“The island barista makes the most delicious caffè you’ve ever tasted.” Ric released my hand while pushing back from the table. “He was an Italian barista before he passed on sometime last century.”

“Oh, so another ghost servant.” A wave of relief washed through me. “I’m used to them by now. For a moment, I thought you had bad news.”

“There’s more.” He grimaced, then stood, holding a hand down to me. “Emilio is a little quirky.”

“Emilio?” I took his hand, letting him help me up. “How so?”

His face paled as he gazed out at the sloping lawn beside the pool. “The names he writes on cups are usually insults.”

I gave him a curious look. “Insults?”

Releasing a sigh, he dragged a hand down his face. “But don’t take them personally.”

Odd that Ric was very concerned about this ghost, when I’d already had to deal with the temperamental spirits back at his Santa Fe mansion. “How bad are these insults?”

He shrugged. “It depends.”

“On what?” I pressed.

He bit his bottom lip. “I suppose on how much he dislikes you.”

Sheesh. “I’ll make my own coffee.”

His eyes widened, and my big, brave sphinx shifter turned into a scaredy cat. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Emilio gets moody when you touch his machines.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Oh, no, not a moody ghost.”

“He takes it out on the machines. Last time, I had to buy all new equipment, and since we can’t leave the island, we will be without coffee.”

“The horror.” I laughed. As much as I loved coffee, I could make do with tea.

Ethyl gasped, her wings buzzing wildly. “Don’t piss him off, Luci. I can’t face the morning without coffee.”

“Fine.” I waved my hands. “I’ll put up with the insults. How bad could they possibly be?”

I wasn’t reassured when Ric averted his gaze, the color draining from his face.