Page 73 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

“Oh, that was the plan.” She licked her lips, an excited gleam in her eyes. “We saved one for questioning.”

A minotaur pulled back the Vindicti’s hood, and I cringed at the sight of a pimply-faced young man. He didn’t look older than eighteen. “What will you do to him?” I asked.

I wasn’t reassured when she averted her gaze. “Test him for memory and mind-control spells and get him to talk through any means necessary.”

Bile burned my throat, though I wasn’t sure what I could do for him. He and his friends were responsible for helping the demons who’d killed my parents.

“What about my bra?” I asked Serena. “Can someone get it for me?”

No way was I going back into that house.

My aunt sent a mercenary, a young, willowy witch, to fetch my bra. She returned with it in a few minutes, holding it in front of her like it was on fire.

I took the bra from her and shoved it in my purse. “Thanks.”

I’d put it on as soon as I cleaned it. In the meantime, I’m sure I looked like a walk-of-shame witch with smeared makeup, messed-up hair, and free-range tits. Oh well. It beat not being able to walk home at all.

A loud rattle came from the shed, followed by a muffled cry for help.

I pointed to the shed with my wand. “I think our fairy godfather is in there.”

Serena arched a brow. “Let’s go see.”

I followed her on numb legs, forcing myself to look away when an Insurgi emerged from the house with a bucket of sausage links.

After tonight, I didn’t think I could ever put another sausage in my mouth again. Well, not the dead kind, anyway.

SHU WAS A MIDDLE-AGEDAsian man whose high, curly mullet looked as hard as concrete thanks to about an entire can of very potent aerosol hairspray. He wore bright purple parachute pants that swished when he walked, and I really, really, wished I could say that was the weirdest thing about him. He seemed oblivious to the chaos descending around us. Hooded Insurgi carried away the satyr on a stretcher, along with wheelbarrows of sausages. As for Antonio and the Vindicti, they burned them right in the middle of the courtyard, a big bonfire that the rest of the neighborhood couldn’t see or smell thanks to the demon’s wards.

“Well, it’s about time someone let me out of that stuffy bedroom.” Shu swished, swished, and swished while pacing back and forth, his hands waving wildly. “I’ve been banging on the door for days.”

“Days?” I shot Serena a look while stepping out of the fire’s smoke. Nothing quite like the fermented eggs and burned rubber smell of smoldering demon corpses. I’d probably have to burn my clothes and bathe in bleach when we returned to the hideout. “How long has he been missing?”

“Since 1986,” she mouthed, her brow creased with worry while Shu fumbled with a clunky cassette player strapped to his hot pink fanny pack and big headphones hanging around his neck. “Shu, are you okay?” she asked.

“Shu?” He gave her a quizzical look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know a Shu.”

“You’re Shu, our fairy godfather,” she slowly explained to him as if she was speaking to a child. “You’ve been missing for four decades. We thought the demons killed you.”

“Oh, honey.” He tossed back his head with a laugh, his hair rattling with the movement. “I think someone spiked your sweet tea. I’m Sparkles.” He splayed a hand across his chest. “I don’t know this Shu person.”

My aunt and I shared a look. “Sparkles?” I asked.

He spun a quick circle like a dog chasing its tail. “Where are my girls?”

Serena jutted a foot toward him. “Your girls?”

He rolled his eyes and head with an exaggerated movement before counting down on his fingers. “Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia.”

“The Golden Girls?” I blurted. Thanks to my mom’s love of old human sitcoms, we had watched every season of that show when I was growing up.

Serena gave me a strange look. “Wasn’t that a TV show?”

I grimaced. “Yeah.”

Serena visibly swallowed. “Are you a Golden Girl, Sparkles?”

“Don’t be silly.” He swatted the air with a giggle. “I’m their fairy godfather, though I didn’t get any airtime,” he said matter-of-factly. “I lived in the lamp next to the flour jar where Blanche kept her jewelry.”

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