Page 45 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

IF WE HADN’T HAD SOmuch luggage, we would’ve flown by broom to the hostel. Unfortunately, we had to walk ten blocks, especially since I no longer trusted the city’s cab drivers. The walk gave me time to suck on a few more candies and clear my head. I kept my wand at the ready, shooing away creepy vampires and shifters who tried to flirt with us. Some of them recognized Ethyl, which made things much worse, althoughaiming my wand at their crotches and threatening to shrink their balls was a good deterrent.

No surprise, the hostel was in the dregs of Rome. We passed rough-looking striga, some with missing eyes and others with mangy fur. And the succulent smells of roasting garlic and spun sugar were replaced with the scents of urine and mold.

The entrance to the hostel was below ground. I dug my nails into my wand as we walked down darkly-lit moss-covered stairs before heaving open the warped door that read ‘Single Female Striga and Accompanied Minors—No Sirens or Sailors.’

Every witch knew ‘Sirens or Sailors’ was a euphemism for loose witches. Apparently, some striga still lived in the Dark Ages, practicing the same morality of the puritans who’d once tried to hunt down and kill us.

We walked into a lobby that smelled like wet dog with a roof so low, it nearly scraped the top of my head. The ugly floral wallpaper was stained with what I hoped were water leaks. A three-legged chair beside the back wall tipped on its side as if it had fallen against the end table beside it. The magazines on the table were so faded, I could barely read the dates, though the girls with bell-bottoms and afros indicated they had been printed in the ’60s. I leaned against the front counter and rang a rusty bell. Then we waited, and waited, so I rang the bell again.

A woman’s curse echoed from the closed door behind the counter, and the door shoved open, revealing a gorgon with a scowl so deep, her eyes were practically crossing. And, no, unlike the popular husk myth, gorgons didn’t have fish tails and they didn’t turn us to stone when we looked at them. The rumor was fitting, though, since they were known for their stony expressions. Her pink cotton bathrobe and fluffy bunny slippers were a stark contrast to the dozens of snakes slithering around on her head. I backed up a step, pushing Des behind me when the snakes hissed at us.

“Whaaat?” she drawled before plopping on a stool behind the counter.

“Uhh,” I answered. “We’d like room and board.”

She gave us a dismissive nod. “Did you not read the sign? This hostel is only forsinglefemale striga.”

“And accompanied minors,” I added.

Her top lip curled back in a snarl as her snakes hissed louder. “How old is he?” she demanded while nodding toward Des.

“Twelve,” I answered. Though Des was sometimes mistaken for an older teen, he was simply tall for his age.

She thumbed toward the door. “There’s a single-men’s hostel down the street.”

My mouth fell open. “Are you serious? He’s too young to stay alone.”

She let out a snort before drinking from a flask that was tucked inside her robe. “Children aren’t pampered here like you soft American witches.”

Soft American witches? I squeezed Des’s arm. “I’m not parting with my son.”

She waved me off with a disinterested slur. “Then you can stay in a hotel.”

Ethyl tugged on my jacket, pulling me toward the stairs while whispering in my ear. “Can we afford a hotel?”

I shook my head. “Not without maxing out my credit card,” I answered in a strained whisper while also berating myself for not asking the ghosts for more money. Foolish me for expecting dead people to factor in inflation.

“What do we do?” she asked.

I tossed a glance over my shoulder, very aware that the gorgon and all her serpents were staring at us. “A persuasion spell.”

The color drained from her face. “That’s illegal.”

“I know.” I casually dug my hand into my purse and clutched my wand. “What choice do I have?”

Before I could stop him, Des pushed past us and walked straight to the counter.

“Please let me stay with my mama.” He clasped his hands in a prayer pose while getting within inches of the gorgon’s face. “Please.”

I grabbed Des’s shoulder, pulling him back before he was bit or worse.

The gorgon blinked at my son and then flashed a dazzling smile. “Of course, darling.”

What the heck?

I looked at my son as if seeing him for the first time. There was something different about him. Though I couldn’t see it, I felt the thrum of an invisible aura that pulsed off him in strong yet subtle waves.

Holy heck! He was enchanting her! I didn’t have time to question my son as the gorgon handed me a set of keys.

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