“Gwyneth! Open the door.”
Chad stuck his head through the oak door and saw a blasé Gwyneth putting a chilled bottle of white wine back into the refrigerator.
A few moments later, she sauntered to the front door of her apartment and opened it a few inches. “Why, Morgaine, what’s got y’all madder than a bottle full of bees?”
“You know damn well.”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. You are the powerful psychic. I’m just a student, green as a gourd, standing in the shadow of your greatness.”
Uh-oh. “Gwyneth, I wouldn’t shake that jar of bees, if I were you.”
“Stay out of it, Chad,” They both said at once.
“Fine. Go ahead. Turn each other into toads. See if I care.”
Gwyneth said, “Using magic to harm another is considered black magic and boomerangs on the sender. I can’t turn her into a toad unless I want warts on my face.”
Morgaine pushed on the door. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
Gwyneth wasn’t prepared for the hard shove and the door flew open, revealing two wine glasses and several lit candles around the apartment. Soft music was playing in the background.
“This might not be as bad as it looks, Morgaine. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
Morgaine crossed her arms. “Are you expecting someone?”
Gwyneth turned her nose up in the air. “That’s none of your beeswax.”
“If you’re trying to seduce Sly, I have a news flash for you.”
Gwyneth shrugged one shoulder, casually. “Oh?”
“Yeah, he’s onto you…notintoyou, and he doesn’t appreciate your machinations.”
“I don’t see him up here tellin’ me to stop. And there’s nothin’ wrong with a little imagination. I just see a jealous older woman about to have a stinkin’ fit.”
Morgaine said, “I know I can’t use magic to make my point, but…” she flew at her cousin and knocked her over. Gwyneth yelped, then grabbed Morgaine’s hair and gave it a hard tug.
Oh, man. I saw this coming, and I’m not even psychic.
Morgaine threw a couple of punches. Chad didn’t know she had in her.
“Come on, girls. Stop this. As Gwyneth would say, y’all are like two cats in a sack right now. Wait until you cool off.”
Gwyneth tried to connect with Morgaine’s face and missed. She tried again and missed again. It was as if her fist slid off an invisible barrier. Morgaine laughed and got up.
“I see you didn’t bother putting the protection spell I showed you in place.”
Gwyneth scrambled to her feet. “I’ll show you how worthwhile your protection spell is…” She grabbed a lamp and heaved it toward her cousin. Morgaine leaned back and it missed her—barely. “You only protected yourself from people, not inanimate objects.”
Morgaine’s eyes and lips thinned, and she trembled as if she were about to erupt. She grabbed the base of the lamp that hadn’t shattered, and just as she was winding up for the pitch, Gwyneth’s image slowly faded into invisibility.
Morgaine’s mouth dropped open.
A door downstairs opened. Jules, the Super, called up through the stairwell, “What’s going on up there?”
“Oh! Uh, it’s nothing, Mr. Vernon,” Morgaine called back.
“Just a little spat is all,” Gwyneth added—from somewhere.
