Page 31 of Signed in Incubus

They updated me with what had happened as we ate brunch. Prax had cooked again; enough for all my friends this time. He’d even cut up some bananas and oranges for Triscuit, whichexplained why the parrot was treating him like his new best friend.

“Let’s address the biggest issue here,” I said when we were done eating. “The spell. First, it picked Prax, an incubus. Then it brought me a weird, sketched-out wolf shifter. Then Grabby McGrabberson, a wizard. And now a troll? From another dimension? There’s nowaythat’s the perfect man for me. We need to stop this thing before it rips open time and space to send me suitors from god-knows-where.”

“I did a bit of searching on the forums when I woke up,” Lily said. “Don’t worry, I said I was asking for a friend, so everyone totally thinks I’m asking for myself. Turns out you’re not the first person who has had issues with that spell. A few months ago, there was a post from someone asking what to do. His story sounds nearly identical to yours.

“The spell sent him a mermaid that couldn’t make legs so she could go on land; he was at the beach and nearly got dragged under the waves. It also sent him a harpy, which wasn’t his style either. Everyone on the forum just brushed it off, telling him he must have messed up somewhere. He was pretty adamant that he did everything correctly, though. And he wasn’t a low-level witch wannabe either.”

“Did he ever post a follow-up?” I asked hopefully.

“No, but I DM’d him. I figure if he’s still around, he must’ve found a solution.”

Prax cleared his throat. “I’m not sure if this is helpful, but I’ve heard of witches and wizards crafting spells with high failurerates so others couldn’t profit off of them for fear things would go wrong. Could this be something like that?”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” I said.

The muffled sound of my cell ringing came from under a cushion in the adjoining living room.

“Oops. Sorry,” Gigi said. “I forgot. I shoved your wristlet under a cushion because your phone kept ringing, and you weren’t awake yet. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with Travis or your mom first thing in the morning with a hangover.”

“Good call. Thanks.” I went over, orange juice still in hand, to fetch my clutch.

I returned to Triscuit attempting to trade a banana for the last piece of my bacon. “Hey! That’s mine! And you’re not supposed to have bacon, Triscuit.” I snatched the bacon off the plate and ate it.

“Triscuit wanna biscuit!” he screeched.

I gave him the rest of my eggs instead. “You little cannibal!” I said, even though I knew it wasn’t technically cannibalism because he wasn’t a chicken.

It wasn’t Travisormy mom. It was both.Oh, and my boss too. They’d all left messages—texts, not voicemail because I’d left my mailbox full on purpose—which was definitely for the best because I didn’t think I could be civil on the phone right now. I hoped the I-don’t-give-a-rat’s-ass attitude wouldn’t come out as venomously in writing.

I tried to go in the order of least to most stressful, starting with my boss. He’d left a message telling me they’d moved me back to Boston “as per my Dad’s request.” I fumed. It wasn’tmyrequest. Was that even legal? It was very clear to me he’d always think of me as his friend’s kid. There was no future as my own person in that company. I was done.

I wrote a firmly worded message back, telling him that I was staying in Darlington and that since he had decided to transfer me without consulting me first, this was my two weeks’ notice, and oh, I was taking my two weeks’ vacation I didn’t use this year starting today. Then I screenshotted our conversation and sent it to HR to let them know not to expect me back. Ever.

“There. Done. I officially just quit the craptastic job.”

“Good for you. It’s about time,” Lily said.

Next on the list was Travis. I already knew exactly what I wanted to say to him, and no matter what he said to me, my answer would be the same: take a hike. But Travis didn’t want to talk about our relationship. Instead, he was pissed off I was “emasculating” him by finding someone when we hadn’t even officially broken up. Then, because I didn’t reply right away, his second message accused me of cheating on him all along.

What the hell?

He left a bunch more messages, and I kept scrolling until I saw a link to a gossip site and clicked on it. The headline read,Senator Daughter Jilted at the Altar Already with New Lover. I scrolled down, and the image shocked me.

“Oh, man…” I put my phone down on the table for everyone to see.

On the screen was a picture of me at the club. I was hanging off Prax, but the flash was so strong that it blurred out much of his clothing, only showing his face. He looked angry as if trying to protect me from the camera. The only saving grace was that I lookedamazingin the photo: rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, and relaxed. Okay, maybe too relaxed.

“I don’t remember this at all.”

“The flash!” Prax exclaimed. “Someone pushed me hard on the way out of the club, and there was a bright flash. That was when I noticed the chemical smell. I bet whoever did this was also the one who spiked your drink.”

“Did anyone else know where you were?” Lily asked.

“Nope. Just you guys.”

Mystery still unsolved, I wrote a quick message back to Travis, telling him that we were officially broken up the moment he no-showed to our wedding and that I’d been single since Thursday evening. Then, I sent him a link to a different article on the very same site, with a photograph of him in Vegas with his arms around not one but two women that he most likely paid for, taken the day after our non-wedding.

Then, to make sure he got the message loud and clear, I told him I’d already mailed his ring back and never to contact me again.

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