Page 51 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

Ethyl’s eyes lit up like fireworks as her cheeks flushed. “My flower.”

I cast a wary eye to the counter as Frederica hovered over the little witch taking her order. “I’m sorry,” I said on a rush of air as I leaned back in my seat. “I know you said not to say anything, but why does she have dicks growing out of her head?”

Ethyl frowned, crossing her arms. “Those are her horns. She has an autoimmune disease that produces too much keratin.”

“And she hasn’t seen a healer for it?” Surely modern medicine, or even ancient spellcraft could’ve taken the wiggle out of her wieners.

“She was thinking of getting them cut down.” Ethyl averted her gaze while twirling a napkin between her fingers. “But I told her I like her horns the way they are.”

“I bet you do,” I said sarcastically while eyeing Frederica.

Ethyl’s eyes flashed with annoyance before her cheeks reddened.

The cashier gave Frederica a small bag of treats, and she fed them to Puffy still perched on her shoulder. Puffy grunted in excitement when the cashier handed Frederica the biggest sandwich I’d ever seen, at least three feet long piled with sprouts and cheese. Frederica handed a crust of bread to the mini dragon before shoving the rest of the sandwich into her mouth, grinding it down until there was nothing left but crumbs littering her hairy chest. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and downed a tall coffee before returning to us.

“Are we ready,meine blume?” she asked with a wink.

Ethyl stood, smoothing the folds of her taffeta skirt. “I think so.”

Frederica fanned the air, laughing when Puffy let out a fiery belch.

I tapped Des’s shoulder and stood, too. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll have to leave two of you here.” Frederica frowned at Ethyl and Des, her heavy unibrow nearly falling over her eyes. “I can’t sneak all of us in.”

“I go where Luci goes,” Ethyl said while jutting a thumb toward me.

I squeezed my son’s hand when he stood beside me. “And Des also goes where I go.” No way in nine hells was I leaving my son behind when we were being hunted by succubi.

Frederica let out a groan as steam poured from her nostrils. “I will have a hard enough time getting one witch past the wards, let alone three.”

“Ethyl can go in my pocket.” I turned up my chin, matching the minotaur’s hard stare with one of my own. “Des stays with me.”

“And don’t forget Puffy,” Ethyl said with a pout.

Frederica glanced from Des to me to back to Ethyl. “I don’t think it will work.”

“Try it,” I insisted. I would not back down on this. Separating from Des wasn’t an option.

“Fine.” Frederica heaved a dramatic sigh, her dildo horns jiggling with the movement. “The entrance isn’t far from here. Let’s go.”

WE FLEW BY BROOMSTICKtoward the outer edge of the Murus de Magicus’s borders. Had I mentioned how chaotic the skies were during morning rush hour? Since Santa Fe had a lot less striga, the skies were clear there compared to here. At least half of the European witches had no business owning a broom and needed to go back to flying school, if they had such a thing here. Des clung to my waist, laughing as I dodged crazed pilots. We witnessed three mid-air collisions before we reached our destination. Luckily, Frederica led the way, flying on a broom the size of a battering ram, and most of the heavier traffic cleared the way for us. I would’ve insisted on a taxi from here on, but after our encounter with Antonio, the skies were safer.

We landed in front of an old church I recognized from my history books. Here, the architecture was the exact same as in the human realm, but we were still in a different dimension than humans, so we wouldn’t risk running into them. What a shock it would be for humans to see Frederica or even Ethyl with her colorful, translucent wings.

Frederica ushered us into an alcove and handed me a blue jumpsuit that zipped up the front that had big, bold letters reading TITS on the front and back. “Put this on.”

I turned over the suit in my hands. “TITS?”

“Tribunal Internal Tech and Sanitation,” she said. “It’s what all the mechanics and custodians wear.”

As smart as many striga were, we had no idea how to pick acronyms. Frederica wore a similar jumpsuit, though her ‘TITS’ were covered by a leather jacket. I wished I’d worn my jacket this morning, too. I quickly slipped the loose-fitting jumpsuit over my jeans and zipped it up. That’s when I noticed the smell, like old hot dogs. I wasn’t about to complain, though. Frederica risked her job or worse by sneaking us in. Besides, at least the jumpsuit had pockets, which almost made up for the smell.

Frederica ushered us toward what she said was a rarely used TITS service entrance. She hadn’t warned us the entrance was inside The Capuchin Crypt, also known as The Bone Chapel, located beneath the ancient Roman church. Yes, that’s right, the medieval catacombs with art displays composed of thousands of skeletons and mummified remains was the back entrance to the Tribunal headquarters. How fitting.

I took Des’s hand, turning to him and searching his dark eyes. “Sweetheart, we’re about to go inside a room with lots of bones.”

He shrugged. “I know, Mama.”

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