Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,64
would take that.
“Now that you’re okay”—Nette leaned forward—“you are okay, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Then oh, my God, that was so cool what happened on the stairs. You just flew, vroom.” She reenacted my flight over the railing with her hand. “And then whoosh.” She showed my descent in detail. Apparently, my legs had been kicking and my arms flailing. “And then bam.” She wrapped it up by showing my sudden stop by stopping suddenly. Then her hands floated down like feathers landing softly on the ground.
“A riveting portrayal.”
She hopped off her chair. “Can I get you some water? Coffee? Wine?”
“Please. In that order.”
She snickered and got a glass down.
“Are you sore?” She handed me a glass of water with a straw.
I drew deep from the cup, my throat scorched. “Not terribly.” I couldn’t imagine how Roane would feel. So far, I’d dented his truck, gotten him stabbed, and shattered every bone in his chest. I was such a great dating prospect. It was no wonder he liked me.
“Percy,” I kept my voice low.
A rose blossomed near me.
“Can you let me out without disturbing the wolf?”
He went to work instantly, loosening his grip here and tightening it there, until Roane was secured, and I was free.
“Thank you,” I said to him. “Again.”
Roses all around the kitchen blossomed, filling the room with a rich, fragrant scent.
With Annette’s help, I eased onto my feet, trying not to disturb Roane, but parts of me creaked. Literally creaked. I wondered if there was a spell for that.
Annette draped a blanket over my shoulders.
“Thanks, Nette,” I said softly. Once I’d straightened, I turned and looked behind me.
Ruthie was sleeping in a wingback they’d pulled in for her from the parlor, her sandaled feet propped on an ottoman.
I examined the takeout bags on the table as quietly as I could. “Ruthie is basically a ghost, right?”
“Yeah.” Nette pointed to a bag that had takeout from one of our favorites, Kiki’s.
“Oooo.” I grabbed the chicken fried rice. “And she can’t leave the grounds, right?”
“Right.” She motioned for me to hand her the rice to heat up.
“It’s okay. It’s just as good cold. If she’s a ghost . . .” I paused to take a bite and roll my eyes in ecstasy. “Why does she need sleep?”
She nibbled on a crunchy roll she’d dipped in sweet-and-sour, her plastic chopsticks held expertly. “This is your world, my lurve. I only take messages and do research.”
And I wasn’t sure how much more of this world I could take. “What time is it?”
She took another bite, held up a finger, and reopened her computer to check. “It’s almost three.”
“Holy crap. We’ve been on that floor all day?” Hopefully, no one had come to visit.
“Yep. Your dads, of course, freaked, but Ruthie assured them you’d be fine. Just so you know, they weren’t just a little freaked. Like it really got to them this time.”
I looked over at their sleeping forms. They sat right next to each other, Papi’s arm thrown over Dad. They were going to be so sore when they woke up. “I think they’re traumatized. After my six-month stay-cay, who can blame them?”
“I wish they’d adopt me,” she said softly.
“They still can. You’re only”—I blinked in surprise—“forty-five.”
“So are you,” she said defensively.
“No, I mean, I missed your birthday too.”
“Oh, pfft.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It was uneventful. You didn’t miss anything.”
“We always toast on your birthday.”
“I still toasted. Just, you know, by myself.”
I put down my fork. “You didn’t celebrate?”
“I did, actually.”
“Good.”
I started to take another bite.
“With Percy.”
“You celebrated your birthday with Percy?”
“Yes.”
I pointed up. “This Percy? Our Percy?”
“Yes. And you, actually.” Her mouth slid into a sideways grin. “He let me into your room so I could toast with you.”
After beaming at her, I looked up. “Thanks, Percy.”
The vines rustled.
“Only I got a little wasted and the next thing I know, I’m back in my room with no recollection of how I got there.”
“Really?”
“Still, it’s not every day one gets to toast one’s birthday with a floating witch in a state of suspended animation.”
“True. So, I need to wash my hair.”
“Wait, what?” she asked,
“I need a shower. Then I’m going to try to get everyone into a real bed.”
“There is no way I’m going upstairs. Not with that thing up there.”
“Okay. But I need a shower.”
She jumped to her feet and grabbed my arm. “There is no way you’re going upstairs either.”