Page 56 of The Fantastic Fluke

Gideon was giving me a whole lot of side-eye for a guy who’d clearly been thinking the same thing. He’d just realized how inappropriate it was to say it to her before opening his mouth.

“It doesn’t really matter, Mrs. McKinley,” he told her. “Sage is learning quick, and as soon as he’s all trained up, I’ll be gone. Best we don’t go getting too sentimental over it.”

“Over you,” she corrected. When his brows drew together in confusion, she went on. “You’re not an it. You don’t want us to get sentimental overyou. You want us to accept that you’re going to be gone soon, and there’s nothing we can do.”

He nodded, though it was a little hesitant, clearly expecting a “gotcha” moment. He didn’t seem to understand that had been the gotcha. He had dismissed the importance of his own existence, so he didn’t think anyone else should think more of it.

Instead of harping on it, Iris stood. “Why don’t we go to the library? I know you spend a lot of time among books, Sage, and you’ve got... some from your father to look at, but maybe I have some more useful ones here.”

She stressed the word useful, and at the end, gave me a meaningful look. Then she spun and headed out, more professional and straight-backed than I’d ever seen her. She looked like a tour guide who was about to shake someone down to make sure they weren’t sneaking cheese snacks into the museum.

No, that hasn’t happened to me. Not twice, at least.

We followed along, met by Fluke and Rufus in the foyer. The housekeeper was there, filling a water dish. “I hope you don’t mind we fed him. We made sure Rufus’s food was okay for foxes first.”

“Not at all. I appreciate it.” In fact, I kind of felt like a jerk, since I’d been expecting him to wait until we got home. Fluke sensed my unease, and apparently he didn’t hold a grudge, because he was at my side in a second, pushing against me for attention.

By the time I looked up again, Gideon was halfway down the hall, looking back at me. Even waiting on me, with that expression on his face, brows up and bemused smile in place, he didn’t seem impatient. The man was a freaking Zen master.

I wondered if that was what came of this discipline of magic. That would be nice. I could use a little serenity in my life.

So it definitely wasn’t going to happen.

When we walked into the library, Iris already had an armful of books, and she was mumbling to herself about collections. She turned and offered a smile. “Oh, could you grab that one, Gideo—” her face fell when she remembered that no, Gideon could not grab that one.

I walked over next to her and looked up at where she was pointing. Yeah, Gideon could have reached that, but it was too high for me. A thump sounded behind me and I turned to find Fluke, front paws on a small step stool, watching us, his fluffy tail wagging. I retrieved the thing, giving him reward head scratches which he accepted shamelessly, leaning up into my hand and not letting go till I pulled the stool from under his front paws, and went back to get the book she wanted.

Five more minutes and another three books, and she leaned forward and dumped the pile into my arms. “There. That should get you started.” She pointed at one slim book on the bottom. “That one is the opposite of the monstrosity your father had.”

Did that mean a book about how the convergence was a good thing, or a book by Winifred McKinley? I didn’t ask, just nodded and tried to absorb as she gave me other instructions about which books to start with, and which ones would be more useful for what.

Loud footsteps in the hall grabbed everyone’s attention, and we all turned to look at the door. It wasn’t Wayne coming to take us home. That guy’s footsteps were like a cat ninja, so soft I was sure he could sneak up on me in a silent room filled with mousetraps. These steps were deliberately heavy—the footsteps of someone used to being noticed. Someone who wanted to be noticed.

The library door opened to reveal a tall, slim older man, maybe fifty or sixty, conventionally handsome with salt and pepper hair and pronounced crow’s feet, wearing fancy evening clothes. I hadn’t seen a tuxedo in person since Mal, Beez, and I had gone to prom together, and this guy’s tux fit way better than the ones the three of us had rented.

Beez had pulled it off better anyway.

“Good evening, Mother,” he said in an affected upper-class accent, nasally and prim. It was the kind of thing I hadn’t thought existed outside of movies. “I didn’t realize you were having company.”

“No. I saw no reason to share my plans. I told you I would be busy and didn’t want to go to the theater,” she answered, tone clipped. This was the woman I’d been expecting to have dinner with a week earlier. The woman who was vaguely annoyed by my existence and found me extremely tiresome.

Except she didn’t find me tiresome; she was looking at him. Roger, my uncle.

His gaze swept over Fluke, then me, as though we weren’t intelligent beings standing in the room, but furniture, then he gave a sniff. “Really, if you were going to stay home and rearrange the library, why not do it tomorrow? These tickets were exclusive, and Beth misses you.”

The look on Iris’s face made me want to giggle; her pursed lips, and that one perfect eyebrow lifted halfway to her hairline. I had no doubt that Beth did not miss her, nor she Beth. Whoever Beth was. “I didn’t realize you were losing your vision, Roger. You should see someone about that.” She turned to me, bestowing her usual sweet smile. “Sage dear, this is my older child, Roger. Your uncle. Roger, this is your nephew, Sage.”

The man finally looked at me, but it wasn’t pleased, or even an attempt at pleasant. He looked like he’d found a cockroach in his dinner, and he was inclined to step on me.

Fluke must have seen the same since he stepped between us, whole body vibrating with a low growl.

“Oh dear me, yes, and his familiar, Fluke.” She leaned over to pet him consolingly. “I’m sorry I forgot to mention you, dear.”

Somehow, Fluke managed to both lean into the touch, and not take his stink-eye off Roger.

Roger eyed me for a moment, gaze catching on the stack of books in my arms. “I say, mother, are you loaning out expensive books to poor relations? I’d hate for anything to mysteriously disappear.”

Gideon, hat on his head and hand on his gun, stepped between the three of us and Roger. Not that Roger could see that, but all three of us relaxed the tiniest bit anyway. Maybe Gideon couldn’t protect us, but we weren’t in physical danger from a plain old raging douchebag anyway. The biggest danger was that someone would lash out.

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