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“But the spell is wearing off,” she continued, eyeing me like she was watching for a reaction. “I’m sure she’s going to ask you to fix it.”

I grimaced. Was that the reaction she was looking for? “I can’t.”

“Asmoday says you won’t use your magic.”

Tomato, tomahto. I knotted my hands, squeezing, trying to keep calm, to think warm fuzzy thoughts, to⁠—

Zap! The shirt I’d draped over the back of a chair burst into flames.

Daruka gave a little yelp then rushed over, snatched up the burning bit of clothing, and disappeared into the en suite bathroom. A scant moment later, I heard water running and then Daruka returned to the bedroom, followed by a puff of smoke.

She eyed me with a whole lot more caution than she had three minutes ago. “Not a fan of gorgons?”

I cleared my throat. “Um, no, I have no issue with gorgons.” The whole turning-people-to-stone thing notwithstanding.

Daruka glanced at the bathroom door. “Does that happen often?”

I swallowed thickly. Hesitated.

Nodded.

“So can’t is a more accurate description after all,” she noted.

I stared at the ceiling fan out on the porch as the blades gently twirled. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said bravely.

There was a long pause. I considered holding my breath, but something told me I’d either pass out or have to let it out before she got around to whatever she intended to say next.

“Queenie says you make an amazing cup of coffee.”

I blinked owlishly. “Er, I do.” It was, quite literally, the only thing I was good at.

“I can’t wait to try one. Welcome to Arrythmia, Cassandra. Would you like me to blow out your hair? I’m not a professional. In fact, I usually just let my hair air-dry, but I’m happy to try.”

“Oh. Um, thanks.” This time my blinking was rapid because my eyes were suddenly damp.

I’d admitted my greatest shortcoming, with no explanation, and Daruka still wanted to help me. It was…sweet. Which was a bit amusing considering she was half demon.

“Hang on,” she said, lifting a finger. “I’ll be right back.”

She returned so fast, I barely had time to exchange the robe for a pair of shorts and a button-down shirt.

She carried a platter with an assortment of breads and cheeses, fruit, and a bottle of wine and two glasses.

My stomach rumbled, as if it just realized I hadn’t eaten yet today. I’d been too nervous before the interview and too preoccupied since.

“Do you drink wine?” Daruka asked, not waiting for my answer before pouring ruby red liquid into the glasses.

“Sometimes.” I loved wine, although I rarely drank it with other people. Mostly because I didn’t have any friends and my family tended to shun me. Plus, there was that one time when my aunt insisted my cousins take me with them down to the French Quarter to watch a Mardi Gras parade. I knocked back a few too many and accidentally animated the giant papier-mâché jester on one of the floats.

It was pretty clear during the resulting mass hysteria which humans were local—they were mostly chilling and continuing to drink their Sazeracs and beers, watching the tourists melt down and offering advice to the police as they tried to wrangle the jester, who had not been ready to give up his unexpected freedom.

But you know what? There were no floats here and I’d sworn off using magic, so I only hesitated slightly before I accepted the glass she handed me. “Thank you.”

“Now, have a seat and let me see if I can figure out how to dry your hair. Fates be damned, it’s so thick. And such a pretty color.”

I’d never preened before in my life, but I sure as hell was doing it now.

I sipped wine while Daruka worked all the dampness out of my hair. And then I snacked on cheese and chunks of homemade bread while she twisted the locks into an updo.