Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,18
arms, expecting to be blasted with shards of splintered wood. But the only thing that fell on me was dust from the rafters above.
Amazed I was still alive, I patted myself down then scrambled to the stairs, half-running, half-falling. I tried to find my way out.
All the steps down and all the steps up formed a zig-zag of mazes that Jareth would be proud to install in his goblin castle.
After a short eternity, where I got lost several more times—honestly, the house wasn’t that big—I emerged from a panel strategically placed behind a potted plant on the mezzanine. My room was only a few doors down. But if my calculations were correct, this two-story, or three if one counted the attic, was actually thirty stories high. And a million feet deep.
Gawd, I was bad at math. Next time, I’d bring Annette.
Still, either this house sat directly on top of a hellmouth or my ancestors were into way more than just shipping.
Chest heaving, mostly because of the cardio thing, I closed the panel and pressed against the wall. Having Percy around calmed my nerves. I drew in several deep breaths, wondering how no one was awake. How no one had heard the crash of the house almost falling down around us. How that small door stayed on its hinges.
A clock ticking downstairs was the only sound coming from the belly of the beast, also known as the first floor. I crept down the stairs, careful not to awaken anything that might be lurking in the dark, and headed for the kitchen. A place of nourishment and respite. A place where both friends and memories were made. A place where pineapple upside-down cake lived, waiting in the shadows, beckoning me closer.
I needed sustenance. And sugar. Mostly sugar. And I deserved it, damn it. I was living in some bizarre interdimensional hellhole, no offense to Percy. And cake would help. Cake always helped.
With hands still shaking from the evening’s events, I felt around until I found the light above the industrial strove and turned it on, ready to begin a new quest that did not involve hidden passageways or secret dungeons or creepy rooms that linked directly to the seventh circle of hell.
If I were a pineapple upside-down cake . . .
“It’s over here.”
I jumped 12.2 feet into the air and whirled around with a hand over my heart to find a highlander sitting on the counter like he’d been raised in the wild. Then again, he had.
He held a fork and a small plate and was taking bites out of a piece of the very cake that had been calling to me. In between said bites, a grin as sinful as my deepest desires lifted one corner of his exquisite mouth.
Obviously, we’d had the same idea.
With zero confirmation, he reached around, took another dessert plate out of the cabinet, and held it out to me.
I walked forward and took it.
He cut me a piece of cake, lifting it carefully onto my plate.
“Maybe I’m here for the carnitas,” I said.
“The way you were making love to this cake with your eyes? I don’t think so.”
Heat infused my face. Why was I constantly going red around him? Thankfully, the room was still dark enough to cover for me even with the stove light on. Unless . . . “Can you see in the dark?” He could come in handy.
He grinned. “Worried?”
“No. Maybe. A little.” I put the plate down and hopped onto the counter—not an easy feat—putting the cake pan between us. “Did you know this house lives on top of a cave?”
“No, but that explains a lot.”
“And there are six doors at the top of the stairs in the secret passageways.”
“Yeah. I tried opening them. They won’t budge.”
“It’s a good thing. I think they lead to hell or something. Or at the very least, one of its outer offices. This house is getting more disturbing by the minute.”
The countertop quaked beneath me.
“Sorry, Percy. I didn’t mean it that way.” I decided to shut up and eat my cake. It melted in my mouth. No matter how much I despised the word, moist was the best way to describe it. And rich. And delicious. I may have moaned.
Roane laughed softly and handed me a cup of coffee he poured from the pot sitting on his other side.
I swallowed, the bitter taste blending with the sweetness from the cake almost orgasmic. I took another drink, then said, “And you didn’t answer my first question.”