When Declan mentioned that they’d only known one another for a few days, she understood why. She had to fight a laugh at the realization.
A one-night stand turned out to be soulmates. It sounded like the punchline of a joke.
Still, catching that hesitation, she had to lend a hand.
As they said their goodbyes, and she watched them walk from the restaurant a few too many strides apart, she collected their forks. Had she literallyjustmentioned how silly it was to leave your DNA around for a Witch to gather with ease? She had indeed. It wasn’t her fault they were stupid enough to leave a valuable ingredient open for the taking.
Although, a hex wasn’t her plan.
She dropped some cash to the tabletop and strolled from the restaurant, close behind the pair but far enough that they didn’t realize they were being trailed.
In the pocket of her trench coat, thumbing the spikes of the fork, she murmured too quiet for anyone along the city street to hear what she was saying. Not that they’d understand the language either way.
She kept following behind them into the parking garage, casting as she walked, feeling the prongs of the silverware grow pliable beneath her fingertips. As she finished chanting, still a dozen or so strides away, the cutlery now a pile of powdery silver in her palm, she lifted it out before her, and she blew.
Smiling, she watched the glittery specks float toward them and land on the back of their shirts.
That should do the trick.
* * *
Lowering herself to her plush white blankets, Guinevere tugged her satin pajama over her shoulders. Once she pulled the linens over her legs, she reached to her glass side table, found the phone, and flipped for the number in her notebook.
As the dial rang, she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, rubbing lotion up her arms.
“Nan Diathan, how can I help you?” a man’s voice came through the other end.
Guinevere smiled. “Well, hello, darling. I was calling for your wife, but you know I love that angelic voice of yours.”
She could practically hear his eyeroll. “She hears you calling me darling, she’ll hunt you down and make sure you never can again.”
“Oh, she loves me too much for that.”
“Shetoleratesyou. So do I, by the way. And I have shit going on right now, so what do you need?”
“I don’tneedanything.”
Again, the eyeroll was practically its own sound. “Fine. What do youwant?”
“There’s no need to be rude, love,” she said, tucking the blankets in closer around her legs. “But like I said, I called for your wife.”
“She already went home with the kids, and she’s probably getting them into bed. You wake up those babies, and we both know there’ll be hell to pay,” he said. “And I don’t have all day, dude. Dealing with my own shit over here. So do you want me to take a message or not?”
She smiled still. “Our banter never gets old.”
“Damn it, M—”
“It’s Guinevere now. Pretty, isn’t it? Felt like it suited me better.”
“Alright,Guinevere,” he said. “I really don’t have time for this. If you’re not gonna get to the point, you can hold this conversation with the dial tone.”
He was always a bit grouchy, at least with Guinevere, but he sounded particularly irritable today. “Is everything alright, darling? Do you all need help with anything?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. I’m just a fucking idiot.” A long sigh muffled through the speaker. “Not the point. What’s up?”
Sliding a bit of lotion from beneath her nail, she said, “Did your journey go well?”
Silence for a moment. “How’d you know about that?”