Page 13 of Mochas and Minotaurs

Topless vacuuming was notwhat I’d had in mind when Gigi said she had ideas on how I could repay her. But here Iwas, vacuuming her home as she looked on from her seat on the velvet couch.

Her place was a maximalist’s dream. It was filled with all manners of objects: knickknacks, books, candles, crystals, and curiosities of all kinds lovingly curated and lined up on shelves and stored behind glass in cabinets. I was willing to bet a good number of the objects here were magical.

In addition to the multitude of oddities, her home was also furnished with a sumptuous array of fibers and fabrics, from the deep red velvet of the couch and the handmade afghan tossed over it, to the billowing curtains hanging in front of the windows.

I eyed the wall hanging of a raven on a branch set against a crescent moon. It was made of tiny X-shaped stitches and must have taken forever to make. Someone had most definitely made it because she certainly hadn’t found that next to the Live Laugh Love prints at the local home decor store.

There were several houseplants—a bunch of succulents, and a single cactus—on the windowsill.

But the pièce de resistance was Triscuit, Griselda’s African grey parrot. The bird had his eyes on me when I walked in, and even though Gigi had thrown a blanket over the cage to hide the vacuum cleaner from the bird, I kept hearing maniacal laughter coming from its cage every time I stopped vacuuming. The bird’s oversized flight cage sat against one of the walls and, like Gigi’s home, was filled to the brim with colorful toys.

Despite how full the home was, it smelled fresh and clean. Her numerous collections were lifted off the floor; everything had a home and was displayed like treasures.

I guided the stick vacuum under the table one last time before turning it off. The silence was greeted by evil-sounding laughter again, followed by rhythmic bird chanting. I frowned, hoping that birds couldn’t cast spells.

I returned the vacuum to the closet, washed my hands, and returned to see that Triscuit was out of his cage now that the scary vacuum was gone. He stood on the perch above his cage, mumbling to his reflection in the tiny hanging mirror.

Gigi motioned me over to the couch.

“Now to cast the final spell.” Gigi’s mouth moved silently, and the room brightened for a split second, so fast I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Done!”

She held up the single cuff earring I’d given to her earlier for the spell, and I took it from her.

“So the spell is in here?” I held up the earring. It didn’t look any different.

“Yup. Just rub it and say, ‘Hot-crossed man-buns,’ and the spell will turn on and off.”

“Hot-crossed man-buns?? You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. I’m completely serious.” She failed at keeping her face neutral, and the corner of her lips twitched up in an amusedsmile. “But for complete transparency, it’s attached to me, just like the magical wards around my home. When it’s on, it’s using my magic, so I’ll know when you’re using it.”

“It won’t be too much, will it?” I knew that witches had limited energy they could generate at any given time.

“It should be fine. This is a more complex form of a basic glamor spell. I want to make sure no one can see through it, even with magic. You mentioned a dragon, so I have to assume that this dragon would have witches and wizards at his disposal.”

“Right. Does that mean I have to turn every mirror in my home around? That’ll be hard in the gym. If the mirrors ever get here.” I’d gotten an email earlier from the vendor saying they were sending them out again tomorrow. I just hoped they arrived with no issues.

Gigi laughed. “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, but we don’t need a mirror to see you.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’m beginning to think that little bit in your café about you failing at witchcraft is a lie,” I said wryly, like I hadn’t just witnessed her successfully cast a bunch of spells today.

“Well, that depends on your definition of failure. I had a tarot reading business before this. It was a failure because it didn’t make any money. Coffee, however, does. I’m not amazing, but I’m not crappy either. I just prefer people underestimate me than the other way around.”

“So you’re a sleeper witch. Got it. “

I looked around for a mirror since I wasn’t great at putting my jewelry on without one as I rarely took them off.

“Here. Let me do it,” She pulled me to sit down next to her on the couch, then took the earring from me.

She leaned in and I held my breath as she put the earring in. I was highly aware that I didn’t have my usual glamor on—like the glamor I’d kept on through our night together. The combination of magic and perception was powerful. Often what we saw was what we felt, the brain filling and correcting imperfect details.

Gigi had known I wasn’t human, but she hadn’t pried that night. Now, she didn’t shy away from my downturned bovine ears. Her hands were soft as she carefully fitted the earring back into place.

I made the mistake of inhaling too early, and the scent of her filled my lungs. Every detail from our night together came rushing back, and something in me snapped. My minotaur took over, and I pulled her the rest of the way onto me. Her smaller body fell into mine and I wrapped my arms around her.

She gasped, even as my lips crashed onto hers, claiming her. After a moment of surprise, she started to kiss me back, accepting my invitation with a soft moan that threatened to strip away my ability to think.

Chapter 7

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