I hold my hand up for Prudence to high-five, but she just stares at me like I’m an idiot until I slowly lower it.
“We’ll work on the fist bumps,” I say.
“No, we won’t.You’ll be at the bookstore tomorrow morning.All three of you, and whoever else has an ounce of power in this town.”
“Why do I get the feeling the cat knows more than she’s telling us?”Em stage whispers.
“Probably because she does,” I say on a sigh.“It’s easier just to agree with her.”
“I can come by early,” Tara says easily.“Ward and I will crash at the shop tonight.Em, you could stay with us too!A slumber party.”
They both turn to look at me.“Oh, you can come too.”
“No, my witch needs to sleep in her own bed.It will help keep the spirits contained.”
I rub a hand over my face.“Thanks, Prudence.I didn’t know you could cockblock friendship but here you are.”
She harrumphs, and then vaults off the sink, tail swishing in the air as she prances to the door.“Now you can go.I would also like some fish.Maybe some cream.”
“I am not cleaning your litterbox if you eat any more cream,” I tell her.
“You don’t have a choice in the matter.You have thumbs, I don’t.It’s your house.If you want it to smell like that, that’s your business.”
“I was jealous I didn’t have a familiar at first?—”
“Envious.Envious is the proper word.”
Em stares at her, then unlocks the door.Prudence pushes it open without missing a beat, scampering through the crowd in a flash of black fur.
No one seems to notice the cat in their midst, and I throw my hands up in defeat before picking up my purse.“She’s a handful.”
“It’s kind of cool,” Em says slowly, her eyes huge in her face.“Like, Tara and I had suspicions about the witchcraft stuff, but we didn’t have anyone to ask.And now you’re here, and you have a cat, and a grimoire?—”
“The Romantics,” I say, slapping my forehead.
“What?”Em asks.Tara raises an eyebrow at me, too.
“I don’t see how being romantic has anything to do with it.”
“No, the Romantics—that’s the last name of my friend Ivy and her two sisters.She’s always been extra about all this…” I trail off and wriggle my fingers in a sad attempt at signaling witchcraft.
I’m sure Prudence would take umbrage at that gesture, but she’s high-tailed it for the three men and the potato skins.
“Are you trying to say you know another witch?”Em asks.
“A family of witches?”Tara’s eyebrows are sky-high.
“That is what I was trying to say, yes.”I blow out a breath.“I’m not at my best right now.Shit.”I sniffle, the absolutely mortifying urge to cry swamping me like I’m a half-day away from starting my period.
Which I am.
“Oh no, no no no, don’t cry—” Em starts to fold me into a hug, but Tara pushes her away.
“No, don’t hug her, you’re going to make it worse.”Tara takes me by the shoulders, shaking me.“Chin up, bitch, there’s no crying in the brewery.”
“That’s not nice,” Em says, with a gasp that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
I nod, my lower lip wobbling, when a shadow blocks out some of the already low light.
