Page 82 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

Fear and dread turned my veins to lead. “I don’t want to take my son in there.”

I loathed the look of pity in Serena’s eyes. “And you don’t want to part with your son, either. He’ll be safest with you, anyway. This is the best option.”

Holy hex! Were we seriously talking about involving my twelve-year-old son in this dangerous mission?

“He can bring us to the mechanical room where you transported the last time,” she continued. “Then we shield ourselves with a concealment spell and destroy the demon controlling my mother and her followers.”

Wow. Nothing about freeing Ric. “I don’t care about taking anyone down,” I answered. “I just want to get Ric out of there.”

“And Frederica,” Ethyl added.

Serena flashed a tight smile. “This is our chance to take them down, Luciella. I’m not sure when we’ll get another, and if we don’t do it now, they’ll always be a threat.”

I fixed her with a hard glare. “We go to save our friends. We’re not fighting anyone, demon or witch, unless they try to harm us.”

My aunt had her priorities out of order. Perhaps bringing Des to help her battle the Tribunal had been her plan all along,and she’d been hoping I’d jump at the chance to avoid the troll sewers.

He was just twelve years old. Twelve. Three years younger than I was when I watched my parents die. And that experience had nearly destroyed me. What if things went south before he could teleport us out of there? What if...he watched me die?

Des pulled out his wand, a twelve-inch pine stick made for beginner witches that was meant to channel very little magic. It was more of a toy than a real weapon, like the difference between a wooden and a steel sword. His father and I had given it to him when he’d turned ten. Though most striga, except for rare mythical creatures, used wands, I didn’t think Des needed one. He had more magic in his pinkie finger than any witch with a wand. Then he took my hand, looking into my eyes. “Mama, I can do it.”

My amazing, brave boy. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

“I should, Mama. I’m the phoenix.” He squeezed my hand. “I can protect you.”

My eyes misted and my throat constricted. “It’smyjob to protectyou.”

“I can do it, Mama.” His voice broke and splintered, reminding me he was still very much a growing child. “Please.”

There was a sharpness in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, a glimpse of the genius hiding inside a child’s façade. My child was the phoenix, the most powerful witch in the world. My boy. It was all too much.

“Okay,” I said on an exhale. I couldn’t believe I’d relented so easily. I was the worst mother ever.

Shu jumped from his seat, fluttering around like a butterfly, his pants swishing with each step while he crop-dusted everyone with chem trails of heavy cologne. “Let’s go kick some demon butt.”

“Are you going with us, Shu?” I asked him. “I don’t want you to feel obligated after everything you’ve been through.”

He grasped my shoulder, leveling me with a long look. “I go where you go,” he said, his voice cracking before he looked away. “I wasn’t there for your parents last time, but I want to be here for you now. Besides,” he said, cracking a smile, “because of those demons, I missed the last six seasons ofThe Golden Girls. This is personal.”

I laughed at that. I was glad to see he still had his sense of humor.

Serena’s dark gaze traveled up the length of his body.

“Take a picture. It will last longer,” he said to her while bobbling his head like a diva.

She folded her arms, scowling. “Do you have something quieter to wear?”

He gaped at her like she’d grown a second head. “What do you mean?”

She cocked a hand on her hip. “Your pants swish.”

“Well, duh. They’re parachute pants.” He waved toward his pants as if they were made of magic.

Serena jutted a finger toward his lamp sitting in the center of the table. “Change.”

His features fell. “It took forever for me to pick something out.”

She leveled him with a glare. “Change.”

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