Page 20 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

I looked at my watch. “Tim, how long will it take us to get to the castle by car?”

“Half hour,” he replied.

“Great,” I said, picking up the glazed donut and taking a bite. It wasn’t the breakfast of champions, but something in my stomach was better than nothing. “We’ll leave in twenty minutes.”

Dirk stepped forward and curtseyed to Candy Vargo. “I would like to thank you for my sweater meat, doll face,” he said. “My lady-nuts are indeed luscious.”

“And my chesticles are charming,” Wally announced, bowing deeply to the Keeper of Fate. “Although it will only be but twelve hours of possessing sweater stretchers, I will cherish every moment.”

“Y’all are fuckin’ crazy,” Candy Vargo muttered with a chuckle.

“My gozangas are both glorious and gorgeous,” Carl announced. “For this limited gift, I shall grant you horseback riding lessons on my steed.”

Everyone in the room gasped. No one rode the steeds of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse except the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Oh my,” Tim said, shocked and impressed. “Is that allowed?”

Carl shrugged and felt himself up. “Probably not, but one profound gift deserves another.”

Fred joined the conversation. “I say it’s fine, although, we should probably chat with the steeds first. They can be quite temperamental beasts. However, that being said, my beefy magambos are a blessing. Falsies are wonderful, but there’s nothing like the real thing, baby! Thank you, Candy Vargo. In addition to you possibly dying atop Carl’s steed, I’d like to supply you with toothpicks for the rest of your existence—which might be cut short due to the horseback riding.”

“Okay, fuckers,” Candy said with an eye roll. “I ain’t ridin’ your damned horses, but I’ll gladly accept the toothpicks.”

We were a motley crew about to venture into the unknown. I’d been in battles—deadly battles, but no humans had been involved. What we were about to do made me feel way off-center. The Immortals I loved were very cognizant and respectful of human life. I was beginning to think that my friends might be an exception to the rule. Immortal law stated that human life was sacred and not to be extinguished. However, Micky Muggles didn’t adhere to Immortal law.

He wasn’t Immortal.

He wanted to be, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Candy waved her hand. In a blink of an eye, I went from an attractive forty-year-old woman to a decade older not-so-hot middle-aged gal with a bowl cut and an ugly prairie-looking frock. My formerly curly dark long hair was peppered with gray, and my shoes were something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. To add salt to the wound, they weren’t even comfortable.

“Seriously?” I asked, looking at myself in the foyer mirror with dismay. “You could’ve at least made the shoes orthopedic.”

“Cakehole. Shut it,” Candy Vargo said as she waved her hand again and disguised herself.

I almost choked on my spit when she transformed. I looked bad, but she was a hot mess.

The Keeper of Fate was an attractive woman. Granted, she was messy and dressed like she’d found her wardrobe in a dumpster, but she’d chosen a look that beat her sloppy one hands down. Candy now appeared to be around forty and looked like she’d lived hard. Her skin was sun damaged, and the lines on her face were deep. Her mom-jeans were floods, and her sweater was too tight, revealing a gut that made Gideon’s look like a little pooch. The kicker? She was missing her front tooth.

“Oh my God,” Gabe’s brow shot up as he choked on a laugh. “Sexy,” he deadpanned.

The group of us chuckled, and I was glad to see that my brother wasn’t so consumed by his rage that he’d lost all sense of humor.

“Fuck you,” Candy Vargo shot back with a grunt of amusement. “We can all blend into a crowd now without being noticed.”

“I’m going to have to disagree,” Tim said, examining Candy’s mouth with curiosity. “The missing tooth is rather out there.”

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand. All of her teeth had returned, but they were dark gray. “Better?”

“Nope,” I said with an eye roll. “Fix your damn mouth.”

“Y’all ain’t no fun,” she muttered, taking my advice. Also, my shoes were suddenly more comfortable, proving once again that the Keeper of Fate wasn’t always an asshole.

“We’re not here to have a good time,” Gideon reminded her in a flat tone.

“Speak for yourself,” she said. “I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of watching Micky Muggles go down in flames. I’m itchin’ for a juicy justice boner.”

“Enough,” I said, checking the time and tucking my burner phone into the pocket of my heinous dress. “It’s time to go.”

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