AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Okay," I agreed, excitement starting to bubble up in my system, making the rain slow up, the sun already peeking through the clouds.
"Do I want to know what you had to promise her to make it stop?" Ace asked, coming into the kitchen, moving right to the coffee pot, constantly needing the warmth the beverage provided.
"No."
"Then I won't ask," Ace said, shaking his head. "She doesn't leave the grounds."
"I know," Ly agreed, leading me out of the kitchen, pulling me with him up the stairs and into his bedroom. "Bathe," he demanded, waving toward the bathroom. "I will figure out the other shit."
I had no idea what the "other shit" was, but I was happy to run a bath while he left, slipping into the water, feeling the ache from the bed on the floor in the basement easing away with each passing moment.
I drained the water and refilled it once before washing my hair and climbing out, slipping under the soft covers while the house seemed to come alive around and below me.
Typically, I found the demons rather slothful, always hanging around, drinking, reading, or watching television. I heard the soft strum of a string instrument—knowing these demons, likely a guitar—from somewhere behind a closed door on occasion, but they never did any cleaning, cooking, or yard work.
I was starting to believe they weren't capable.
But from my position on the bed, I could see Ace and Drex moving around the back of the grounds, scooping leaves out of the pool, and placing tables and chairs around.
From below, I could hear the shuffling of furniture, music thrumming then stopping, then starting again, but louder, the beat pulsing up the walls, making even the bed vibrate with it.
It was a long while later when I heard a strange rustling noise along with footsteps on the floors outside Ly's bedroom for a second before it opened and Ly moved inside.
The bags in his hands were what was making the rustling noise, half a dozen of them.
"What is all this?" I asked as he made his way to the foot of the bed, dropping all the bags there.
"Things to wear."
"I can't imagine I will need all of that for one night."
"No," he agreed. "But you will need other things soon. Boots, for the gardening. A jacket for the same reason. You would be useless to us if you caught a chill and died."
The gestures had started out kind, at least. And I was too pleased at the idea of something new to wear to care about his comments.
"There are also things for the bath. Some food. Makeup shit."
"Makeup," I repeated.
"The shit chicks put on their faces. Makes their eyes bigger and their lips redder."
"Oh, right," I agreed, feeling foolish.
We didn't have makeup, not in the strictest definition of the word, but we did use natural dyes on our faces for special occasions, even though we had no one to impress but ourselves.
"You'll figure it out," he said, reading the confusion on my face. "Or make yourself look like a clown. Either way, it will keep you out of our hair while we set things up."
"How will I know when to come down?"
"When I come to get you."
"How long?"
"However long it takes, witch," he snapped, walking to the door, leaving, slamming it on his way back.
He always blew hot and cold with me.
On the one hand, he had gone out, spent his money, and bought me more things than I needed, including an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables as well as some bottled fruit drinks. Smoothies, they said.
I knew very well that he didn't need to buy me these things. The other witches did not seem to have the same treatment I had been enjoying.
So he didn't have to be kind.
But he was.
And, I was starting to suspect, anytime he caught himself being kind, he covered it by being especially gruff.
It couldn't have come naturally to him—a creature of pure evil—to be considerate, to think of others ahead of himself.
Even if his reasons were, at their core, selfish, since they didn't want rain, so that their party could be enjoyable. Which, I imagined, served their own pride in some way.
Still, it was nice.
And I was going to let myself feel appreciative. If for no other reason than it felt good to feel appreciation for a kind gesture.
I grabbed the bag of sugar snap peas and made my way into the bathroom with all the packages, looking over the makeup items, trying to discern what might be used for what, then snacking while I worked on my face, seeing a new me emerge as I went.
My eyes looked bigger with the liner, my lashes thicker and darker with the mascara, my lips a red that reminded me of flowers, a dramatic change that had my lips seeming a more prominent feature.
