Page 54 of The Fantastic Fluke

Slowly, he moved forward as though to put it back on my plate, but I waved him off. “Take it, you monster.”

And so he did, his self-satisfaction evident in the way he held his head high and munched on the toast, a nibble at a time, savoring every bite.

Chapter Twenty

Rufus’s stubby little legs couldn’t hope to keep up with Fluke zipping around Iris’s house, but he chased after anyway, barking excitedly and trying to catch the wily fox. Every time he got close, Fluke bounded away and let him chase after again. Finally, when they’d made a circuit of the front hall and foyer, Fluke let Rufus catch him.

The chubby old bulldog bowled right into his side, and Fluke went down like a ton of bricks, collapsing melodramatically, rolling onto his back and letting his legs stick up in the air, tongue hanging out like something from a cartoon. Rufus pulled back, almost tripping over his own legs trying to untangle and move away as he stared at Fluke nervously.

Iris raised a brow. “Is he okay?”

“Fluke,” I called out. “Don’t be a jerk.”

Instantly, he hopped up onto his feet and bounded over to Rufus, bumping into him and playing like a puppy.

“I guess that answers whether they’re going to get along,” I said, sighing at my obnoxious familiar.

Iris laughed and motioned us into the enormous formal dining room. We were once again seated across from each other, but this time the chair at the end of the table was pushed out too.

“I thought that might simplify things,” she said, motioning to it. “And that way no one had to pull out chairs for anyone else.”

“Much obliged, ma’am,” Gideon said with a nod, waiting for her to sit first, and then taking his seat.

Iris blushed like a schoolgirl.

Yeah, I felt her on that. Fucking tall handsome cowboy types.

Dinner, too, was more relaxed.

I was expecting a salad when the butler slid a plate in front of me, complete with gross bitter arugula and probably vegetables I couldn’t even name. Instead, I was presented with a plate of cheesy perfection. My reaction tumbled out of me before I even had a chance to consider it. “I freaking love macaroni and cheese.”

Iris grinned at me as she picked up her fork. “So do I.”

I reached for my own and realized there were no knives on the table this time. As best I could, I pretended not to notice as I snatched up the single fork next to my plate.

We ate in silence until we were mostly finished, when she looked up at Gideon. “How is the training going? I’m sure Sage is an excellent student.”

“He is,” Gideon agreed. “He doesn’t seem to think so, but he catches on quick. It’s going well. Faster than usual.”

An icy pit opened in my stomach at that notion. Faster than usual. That was me: so clever, quick learner, much wow.

And the faster I learned, the faster Gideon would be gone from my life forever.

I couldn’t just sit there and talk about that. “I found a bunch of magic books hidden in my dad’s closet,” I interrupted. “A copy ofInfinite Power, and something calledAll Debts Are Paid. That one was by a Jonathon McKinley. It looks pretty old.”

Iris scrunched up her nose. “Bah, Jonathon. A great uncle, a few generations back. A reprehensible human being. And that book—” She shook her head vehemently. “I suggest you not read it. It’s pure propaganda about tapping the ley lines and how it’s wrong and unnatural.”

“You’ve read it?” Gideon asked with interest, leaning toward her. He’d been bothering me to look at the damned books since Monday night, but I’d stacked them on the corner of the coffee table and pretended they didn’t exist. Or pretended that they were a poisonous snake I needed to avoid, and I had gone out of my way to give the table a wide berth all week.

Partner or not, I still wasn’t asking Beez to help puzzle out my father’s journal. Especially now, with the implication that he’d been looking for someone who wanted me dead, possibly planning to hand me over to protect himself.

Part of me was still hoping that he’d march out of the office one morning and insist that Gideon had been wrong, and he wouldnever, but the longer he didn’t, the more it seemed like that had been his plan.

I had put up with a lot from my father; ignored slights and insults and even outright cruelty. This time, this thing, it wasn’t ignorable. I wasn’t even sure it was forgivable, or if I was willing to try to forgive it.

“I have read it,” Iris agreed. “We’re descended from his sister, Winifred, you see—”

“The Winifred who stopped the earthquake aftershocks in San Francisco?” I asked, leaning forward with my elbows on the table.

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