Page 41 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

I shot her a dark look, then winced when that stabbing in my skull intensified. I needed a drink. “And you are?”

She flashed a wicked grin. “You forget I spent two summers shagging my way across Europe.”

I swatted her shoulder. “How could I?”

Especially not after listening to her go into great detail about her many lovers. I couldn’t deny I’d been jealous while also relishing each story and vicariously living through her. Especially the story about the vampire named Augustus who made her orgasm every time he fed from her neck. A shiver coursed through me as I remembered how Ric’s purr had set me on fire. My sphinx shifter had been my Augustus. I wondered where he was now and if they were treating him well. I prayed Ethyl was right, and that the Tribunal wouldn’t kill him because he was an endangered species. Striga justice wasn’t justice at all. It was swift and cruel, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to help Ric, and he would die because I was just a divorced, over-40 nobody witch and not part of the Diablo Medici.

“I’m hungry.”

I looked up to see Des staring at us, his headphones in his hand, while he impatiently tapped his foot on the tile floor.

“Okay, baby.” I draped an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s find some food.” Maybe it would help ease the pounding in my skull.

I took his hand and Ethyl and Puffy followed us downstairs. Antonio was in the kitchen wielding the largest knife I’d ever seen while he prepared to cut into a string of salami and several kinds of cheese stacked on one another.

“Antonio,” I asked, “where’s the nearest restaurant?”

He frowned before slamming the knife down on the salami like a serial killer. “I cut you salami and cheese.”

Des tugged on my hand. “I want pizza.”

Antonio looked up at him with a scowl, pointing the tip of his blade at Des’s chest. “You like my salami and cheese.”

“Watch where you point that thing.” I instinctively pushed Des behind me while fingering the wand in my purse.

Antonio frowned at the blade, then at me.

“I want pizza,” Des murmured behind me.

Dragon balls! When my son got in his head he wanted something, there was no deterring him.

I squeezed his hand. “I know, baby. I’ll get you some pizza.” Squaring my shoulders I gave Antonio a stern look. “Where’s the nearest restaurant?”

Antonio frowned, dropping the knife as if it was a hot potato. “There are two around the corner.” He wagged a finger. “But twosignorinasand child shouldn’t be out alone at night.”

“We’ll be fine,” I said as I pushed Des out of the kitchen.

“Okay,” Antonio called at our backs. “Be back in one hour.”

“We’ll do our best,” I called back as I pushed open the squeaky front door. “Thanks, Antonio.” I quickly shut the door, even though Antonio was still grumbling commands. Sheesh. What was he, our jailer?

I pulled Des down the cobblestone street, dimly lit with dull lamps overhead. Yeah, ancient, magical Rome was a little creepy at night. I could only imagine a succubus jumping from one of the alleyway shadows. I reminded myself I was an alpha witch. My magic was more powerful than most witches. No attacker would get past my defensive spells.

Once we emerged onto a much wider, much better lit street with a quaint little restaurant, I breathed a sigh of relief. The protestors had already dispersed, leaving behind wandering tourists like us, their mouths agape as they stared at the statues and souvenir shops. The air was mild enough that I could’ve gone without a jacket, but I felt safer beneath the selkie leathercoat with its smooth silk interior, Colin’s last gift to me before I’d asked for a divorce. I’d been admiring it for weeks, and to my surprise, he’d bought it, despite its extravagant price tag. I realized much later that he’d probably been prompted to buy it out of guilt because he’d been secretly shagging his secretary. So now I had this nice leather coat, and she got the mansion, health insurance, farty breath, and premature ejaculation. Fair trade.

I shot Ethyl a look as she walked beside me, Puffy sitting perched on her shoulder. “You don’t think Antonio was acting a little weird?”

“Just overprotective.” She clasped her hands to her heart. “I think it’s sweet. He reminds me of my father.”

“You didn’t know your father,” I reminded her.

Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Well, if I had, he’d be like Antonio.”

“Selfie stick,signora?”

I scowled down at the pygmy troll who looked too much like Gus as he held up a selfie stick, one of the many he had hanging in a sling across his back like a quiver and arrows.

“No. No selfie stick.” Especially not from the troll who had the audacity to call mesignora.

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