Page 35 of Mochas and Minotaurs

“What?”

I followed her gaze to Triscuit, who was chasing after a ball of yarn.

Gigi released a breath. “He didn’t hear it. Good. I said that particular combination of words one too many times in college,and Triscuit started saying it. Constantly. It took years to get him to stop.Years.”

“Oops, sorry. Won’t happen again.” Note to self: living with a parrot was like living with a flying child. “Thought of anything while you were…” I mimicked the motion she made with her hook.

“Crocheting?”

“Yes, crocheting. I should’ve guessed sincecrocheis French for hook. I knew it wasn’t knitting.”

“Smart man. Never call crochet knitting unless you want to get intimate with a hook. And yes, I did think of something. But I might need your help.”

Chapter 17

Griselda

“My help?” Marcus asked.“How? You’ve been here longer than I have. Unless that sign in your coffee shop is lying.”

“No, it’s right. This used to be my Granny’s place when I was little, but my mom had no use for it, so she passed it to me. My grandmother used to sell potions. She was great at it. Me, not so much. I canbrewpotions, but not like her. She was exceptional. I don’t have a knack for brewing anything unless it involves beans.”

“And your mother?”

“Never appreciated her talents. My parents were more modern. Thought magic would be and should be replaced by technology. They never imagined the two existing side by side like it does now. But it was before The Wall fell, so I understood.” I grimaced, trying to remember the times I’d visited my grandmother as a kid. “I was raised in the suburbs.”

I’d loved coming to Granny’s because, like her, my magic worked and recharged with objects and things. Not only had her home been infused with all the magical artifacts she’d brought in, but there’d been the antique shop two doors down. I spent plenty of weekend afternoons hunting for treasures in there, and had even spent my first bit of saved-up allowance there for a tiny hand mirror I still owned.

“I think I know who might know more,” I said. “Evyenia and Andreas.”

“You mean the old couple who owned the antique shop before I moved in?”

“Yeah. They’ve been here since forever. Maybe even longer than my grandmother. But I don’t have a way to reach them.”

“I have their numbers. It was a private sale, so we didn’t go through an agent.”

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

He dug his phone out and looked for the number. “Want to call them now?”

“They’re retired, right? Nothing better to do.”

Evyenia picked up almost immediately.

After the usual greetings and a little bit of explanation, she invited us over to her new place, which, as it turned out, wasn’t too far away. It was perfect because I had a bunch of baked goods that weren’t going to get sold today. I packed those up, threw on a cute sweater dress, some tights, and a pair of ass-kicking boots that made me feel like a million bucks, and we were on our way.

We took Marcus’s truck, which had the Bullseye Fitness logo emblazoned on the side and the old address taped up. Evyenia and Andreas had moved out to a cute little midtown bungalow that merged the best of both downtown and suburban living. Plus, they didn’t have to worry about those pesky stairs.

I was surprised to see that unlike their old antique shop, the place was not, in fact, filled to the brim with knickknacks. However, they did have one curio cabinet stuffed to the brim.

“Look at you two, so cute together,” Evyenia gushed.

“Stop matchmaking, woman. They’re here for information.” Andreas shook Marcus’s hand, all business-like, then gave me a pat on the head like I was still a little girl.

This was how he’d greeted me for years, and I guess to him, I was still the little girl who’d sneak candy out of the bowl at the front counter. The one who’d saved every penny she could to buy the next trinket she had her eyes on. When I moved in after my grandmother, they’d joked that many of the pieces were coming home.

“Those assholes at Arcane Development bothering you now, are they?” he asked.

“Andreas!” Evy gasped at the bad word.

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