Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,3
you tie a knot into a cherry stem with your tongue?”
“Wait!” Annette ran up the stairs. “Look.” She pointed to the boots she wore and, more specifically, to the vines crushed underneath them. “They don’t move for anyone but you.”
“Because it’s my dream, silly goose.” I looked up at the landing above me. Two gorgeous men stood there, insanely handsome despite the state of their unhinged jaws. “See, even my dads are here. Now I know it’s a dream. They wouldn’t be caught dead in matching shirts.”
The eldest of my adoptive fathers frowned. “What’s wrong with our shirts?”
“Told you,” Papi said.
I’d called him Papi since I was a kid. Even though, unlike the dad I called Dad, he didn’t have an ounce of Latino in him. What could I say? I was a confused child.
“It’s a great color on me,” Dad said, his soft accent soothing and welcome. “And I put mine on first.”
My dads were always perfectly groomed, and today was no exception. Dad with his olive skin and thick gray hair and Papi, the Viking, the silver-streaked blond fox who still worked out every day and had the biceps to prove it.
Their love had always been an inspiration to me. I wanted what they had more than anything, which probably explained my rush to marry my ex. Not the biggest mistake of my life, but damned close.
I ran to them and threw my arms around both their necks at the same time. Like the others, they leaned into my hug but didn’t hug me back.
“Cariña.” Dad turned and kissed my cheek almost cautiously. “Dios mio, are you okay?”
Leaning back to get a good look at them, I nodded. “I am so much more than okay.”
“How did you . . . when did you wake up?” Papi asked.
“I haven’t. Have you seen the vines?”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Exactly. This all feels so real.”
“Cariña.” Dad’s silver brows slid together. “I think we should talk.”
“Totally. But right now”—I gestured to Roane—“I’m going to tear this man’s clothes off. With my teeth. Then we’ll do breakfast. How’s that?”
My younger and only slightly more fit Papi cast a withering glare in Roane’s direction.
He held up his hands in surrender. “You know I wouldn’t.”
“What?” I turned to him with a pout. “You won’t dip your cookie in my cream?”
Roane pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was a distinct smile behind his hand.
Annette ran up to the landing, crunching the poor vines on her way. She started to put a hand on my arm but stopped herself. “Deph, think about it. You live in a magic house haunted by your dead grandparents.”
A sickly kind of horror threatened to blossom in my chest. I tamped it down. No way. “You don’t get it. I was floating on air when I woke up. Floating. On air. My hair was swirling around me like a leviathan. And then there’s the vine thing. They move when I move.” I held out my hand and willed a vine into my palm.
One rose off the banister and curled around my fingers as soft as silk.
“See?” Although I was starting to doubt the dream theory despite all the evidence supporting it.
“Magic,” she said as though she was sorry she had to. But even she was impressed. I could tell. Her gaze held as much fascination as understanding. “Watch.” She lifted a hand to my arm.
A vine rose up and curled around it, tucking its tip underneath her hand.
She jerked back and held her hand open for me to see. A line of blood plumped along her palm.
I grabbed her hand. “What happened?”
“He’s protecting you. He’s been protecting you this whole time.”
A quick glance at my dads told me she was right. They waited, giving me a moment to let it sink in. The horror I’d tamped down ricocheted with a vengeance. It exploded in my chest and caught fire to my skin. I dared a quick glance at Roane. Heat burst through me, and I could practically see the blush sliding up my neck and over my cheeks. I worried it would be permanent.
“He wouldn’t let us near you while you were . . . resting.” The fact that she spoke softly, as though I was a child, didn’t help.
“Resting? I was floating for fuck’s sake.”
“You were in some kind of suspended state,” Papi said. “Like a stasis.”
“For how long?” Wary to hear the answer, I asked anyway.
“We can talk about that later,” Annette said. “The important thing right now