Gypsy Magic - J.R. Rain Page 0,34

I have a…” he started and then shook his head as he looked down. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

Fifi giggled, her previous upset apparently completely forgotten. “Take your time, sugar.”

“Okay,” Finn answered with another smile.

“I’d like an iced tea with lemon, please,” I started and then looked at my son who was still tongue-tied. “Finn would like a strawberry lemonade, and...” I glanced over at Marty.

He snapped his menu shut. “I’ll take an iced tea, as well, with six sugar packets.”

“Six sugar packets?” I repeated, shocked.

“He likes sweet tea,” Fifi answered, and the familiarity between them suddenly burned me, though I wasn’t sure why.

“And we’ll take some beer nuts with mustard to start,” Marty continued, completely oblivious to the strange hostility brewing between Fifi and me. “And the wings please.”

“Got it,” Fifi said.

“Oh, and Fifi,” Marty continued. “Don’t skimp out on the buffalo sauce.”

She giggled. “I’ll make a special note.” Then she winked at him as something akin to rage traveled up my esophagus, giving me heartburn. She disappeared down the aisle with an extra sashay to her hips.

“Who was that?” Finn asked as he turned to face Marty.

“Oh, that was Fifi,” Marty answered and sounded bored.

“She an ex-girlfriend?” I asked before I could help myself.

Marty threw his head back and laughed. “Good God, no! Why do you ask?”

I frowned and tried to find my previous good mood, but it seemed like it was long gone.

“She just seemed… very… into you,” I started, not really sure how to phrase it, because it was damned embarrassing and I wished I’d never even started the conversation.

“That’s just Fifi,” Marty said, waving a hand dismissively. “She’s like that with every man,” he started and then looked at Finn, “Or young man she meets.”

“I felt like I was hypnotized just by looking at her,” Finn said as he returned his attention to his Gameboy, seemingly unperturbed by that fact.

Marty nodded. “She has that sort of... effect on men.” Then he shrugged. “I’ve never quite understood it. Some people say she’s gotta be a witch.”

My stomach did a nervous flip-flop. She hadn’t felt like a witch, but maybe that would have explained the feeling of… animosity I got from her? Hmm...

She wasn’t a witch. I would have felt that energy coming off her.

Right. And I hadn’t felt that energy. But, I had felt something…

“I hope not,” I muttered.

“Witches are bad news,” Finn added.

Marty’s eyebrows lifted a little at that, but he didn’t ask the question until Fifi had returned with the beer nuts, the wings, multiple dipping sauces, and our drinks. Then she made another grand exit, flourishing her hips as she walked away.

“You believe in witches?” Marty asked as he looked at me.

Chapter Eleven

I shrugged. “You don’t?” I mean, believing in witches wasn’t that far off from believing in ghosts…

He chuckled. “No.”

“What about Henner’s grandmother?” I asked. “Wasn’t she a witch?”

Marty shrugged. “I mean, she was known as ‘Witch Tayir’ but that doesn’t mean she was a real witch. As far as I’m concerned, witches don’t exist.”

I frowned. “Really? That seems surprising when you operate a part-time ghost hunting business?”

He steepled his fingers and frowned right back at me. “It’s not the same thing. Ghosts are just energy. Witches are like… monsters.”

He had no idea what he was talking about. “Not really.”

I didn’t try to disabuse him of his belief, though. This was supposed to be a nice, sit-down dinner.

“Witches are real,” Finn said. He didn’t even look up from his Gameboy. “Rare, but real. Just ask Mom. She knows all about them.”

Marty looked at me with the expression of ‘Well?’ written all over his face. I nodded. The cat was out of the bag, so it was no use pretending there was no cat or bag.

“There are usually a few covens per state,” I started. “And a few family lines within those covens. Witches are long lived and they’re matriarchal.”

“Matriarchal?” he repeated.

I nodded. “Magic tends to run down the maternal line. For some reason, the Y-chromosome seems to stifle magic,” I continued with a shrug. To Marty’s credit, he didn’t appear to shut down and he didn’t interrupt me or shake his head or any of the host of reactions I imagined I might see. Instead, he just listened with an openness in his eyes I found refreshing. “Women inherit witch magic and men don’t. For the most part.”

“Then there’s no such thing as warlocks?”

I nodded. “Well, there are, but they’re extremely rare and they usually end up… going insane.”

“How