The island in the center had two bowls of cut up fruit—strawberries and bananas—plus a giant platter that was disappointingly only a quarter full of sausage patties. I grabbed a plate and loaded it up with sausage before turning to my mom. She held out the platter and I grabbed ten pancakes.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how much you eat now.” Mom’s eyes were wide as I stepped away from her. “It was only a few weeks ago I had to beg you to eat more than one of those sugar-filled protein bars.”
“I’d still eat them if I could, but I’d have to eat like ten bars.” I stuck out my tongue and made a fake barf noise. “Too much of a good thing is just gross.” Nabbing the syrup from the island, I poured a puddle on top of the mound of pancakes. Done. I leaned my head against my mom’s shoulder for a second. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I moved past her to the dining room. The table we’d moved in with had been small, but since we’d started going to my house for late lunch on Sundays, my parents had replaced it. The new table had a bench on one side and the chairs on the other side didn’t have arms, so we could squeeze more in if we had to. The chairs at the head and foot of the table still had arms, though. My dad preferred them. He was sitting in the one closest to the back door.
His hair had gone grayer over the past couple months. I don’t think he’d gotten exactly what he bargained for when he took the job at St. Ailbe’s. The pay had been awesome and we’d been looking to get out of LA, but there was a good reason that St. Ailbe’s was looking for a PR specialist with a law degree.
“You want to take a seat?” Dad asked.
He was right. I was hovering, staring at him. It was weird. I slid onto the bench next to Dastien, who poured me a tall glass of OJ. I took in the room. Raphael had made his way back here. Claudia and Lucas were here, as was Mr. Dawson, Chris, and Adrian. Of them, only Lucas was still eating, but the plates were still there in case anyone decided to go in for more. Mr. Dawson was busy on his phone.
He’s been like that all morning. I guess we created a big stir.
I guess we did. But I was still annoyed with Mr. Dawson.
He’s making up for it. I promise.
My eyes caught Shane sitting next to Adrian and it was like ten pounds of stress was siphoned out of my body instantly. He fought with us in Santa Fe and—along with Claudia—one of the only witches I would trust with my life. “You’re here,” I said.
He crossed his arms, showing off his colorful tattoos. “Adrian called me, filled me in on what was going on. I figured you could use my help.”
“For sure.” I looked at Adrian, but he gave me a small shake of his head. I wanted them to have their happily ever after, but it wasn’t my business. So, I kept it zipped. For now.
Besides Shane, there was only one other person in the room that caught me by surprise. Blaze.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m here,” Blaze said. Apparently the shock on my face showed.
“Sure!” That was way too high pitched. “Sure. Of course. I just wasn’t expecting to see you. Not that you aren’t welcome, I just—”
Dastien put a hand on my leg. “She’s glad to have you here.”
Blaze smiled and I wasn’t sure if I was drooling. Holy moly.
Dastien squeezed my leg harder and I snorted out a laugh that set off a fit of giggles.
Are you serious?
I’m sorry. He’s just so pretty.
And what am I?
I leaned into him, breathing in his scent. Mine. There was no mistaking that. He was my other half. I loved him, deep in my soul, and when I looked at him, all I could think of was mine.
But I could still admire the human form, as it were. Blaze seemed completely unaware of how handsome he was and that—
Oh, please. He’s older than dirt. He knows exactly what he looks like and how to play that to his advantage.
I thought you said he was humble.
He’s humble, not dumb.
And older than dirt? Really? I looked at Blaze. He didn’t have a single wrinkle on his face. His hair was dark as night, not even a speck of gray. Even Mr. Dawson had some gray. And Donovan had wrinkles—tiny ones but they were there—around his eyes. Blaze looked like he was twenty-two at most.
“Lucas is older than you, right?” I asked.