Page 66 of Rhett
“This shifter thing is definitely going to be challenging,” I admitted.
“But you’re my strong granddaughter.” She pinched my cheek. “So I know that you’re up for the challenge.” She opened the driver’s door. “Now let’s go. There’s a funnel cake out there calling my name.”
We hopped out of Bonnie’s car, weaving our way through the throng of people milling around or dancing to the music playing.
It was night. Tiki torches illuminated the festival. Residents were seated on haystacks and benches, laughing, eating, and having a good time. My mouth watered from the smells of delicious foods, like funnel cake and pizza, wafting through the air.
Two women with wide smiles walked up to Bonnie and me.
“She looks like the spitting image of you, Bo,” the female with thick white hair that contrasted sharply against her beautiful ebony-hued skin said.
Bonnie preened. “Yes, she does.” She wrapped her arm around my waist. “Nova, this is Freya.” She pointed to the woman with white hair. “She’s the leader of the witches and Nyx’s mother.” Then she gestured to the other woman with dark hair and a face that looked like an older version of Quinn’s. “And this is Piper, Quinn’s mother.”
I stuck out my hand to Freya, who used my outstretched hand to pull me in for a hug. “Welcome, Nova.” I hugged her back quickly. “We wanted to meet you days ago.” She pointed at Bonnie. “But your grandmother said that she didn’t want us scaring you off with our wacky behavior.” She rolled her eyes.
“My turn,” Piper chirped, giving me a strong hug. She stepped back to admire me. “You are beautiful. I can see why my son Rhett is so taken with you.”
Puzzled, I asked, “Your Rhett’s mother too?”
“Not by blood, but I consider him my son.”
“Can I pulse you?” Freya blurted out.
“Nyx already tried last night,” I admitted. “She couldn’t sense my animal.”
“I’d still like to try,” Freya pressed with an excited gleam in her eyes.
“Oh, let her do it,” Bonnie begged. “Or she’ll obsess about pulsing you for weeks.”
“Don’t exaggerate.” Freya shot her a dirty look. “I don’t obsess, Bo.”
Bonnie gave her an “I beg to differ” stare.
“Your middle name is obsession,” Piper argued. “Remember when we were in high school? The horse-shifter thing?”
“Why do you always have to bring that shit up?” Freya complained.
Curious, I asked, “What horse-shifter thing?”
Bonnie laughed. “When we were in high school, Freya heard a rumor that horse-shifters were hung like horses.”
Piper chimed in, “So she became fixated on finding out if the rumor was true.”
“Fixated?” Freya arched a well-manicured brow. “That’s harsh. It was scientific research.”
Bonnie batted her eyelashes. “Henry thought it was love.”
“Old Man Henry?” I asked.
“Yep,” Bonnie confirmed.
Piper pointed at Freya. “She convinced Henry to go skinny-dipping with her in Bogbeast Lake.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Bonnie gave me a wicked grin. “She discovered that he was gloriously hung like a horse, even in icy water.”
“He sure was, and he fucked like a stallion.” Freya winked at me. “So young lady. Are you going to let me pulse you or not?”
