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“Margarita!” Carol cried out, thrusting her empty hands into the air. “When Audrey called me for this meeting of all the covens, it reminded me of that scene fromPractical Magic. You know, where—”
“Sandra Bullock’s character comes out to all the other PTA moms that she’s a witch and asks them to come over to help?” Nolan interrupted as he walked over to stand next to Carol.
The middle-aged witch with her brown hair twisted up in a messy bun bounced as she shouted, “Yes! That’s it! So I thought we also needed midnight margaritas, too!” She looked at Nolan’s empty hands and hissed. “You don’t have one. Let me pour you a glass.” And she zipped away in a flash.
Sky frowned at his glass, unsure what to do with it. He was afraid to drink it because he wasn’t sure if he could trust Carol. But if she saw him toss it out, it would probably piss her off, and he didn’t want to piss off any of these witches.
“It’s safe,” Audrey mumbled. Sky glanced at her to see her jerk her chin to the other groups of witches spread across the clearing lit with flickering tiki torches and a small fire. Most of the other witches were holding red solo cups identical to his own. “Carol is mostly harmless. She’s got eight kids and a husband who has no clue she’s a witch. As a result, she makes a killer margarita from lots of practice, if you get my meaning.”
He did.
Moon started wheezing and choking beside him. Sky’s heart clenched until Moon rasped, “Holy shit. That’s like seventy percent tequila.”
“Yeah, she makes ’em strong. Be careful. Might want to let the ice water it down a bit. Or wait and let’s get the spell-casting done.” With a smirk and her arms folded over her chest, Audrey wandered away from them to another group.
“You know, I think she’s coming around,” Nolan said, giving Sky’s shoulder a poke. “And she’s not the only one.”
“What are you talking about?” Sky thoughtlessly lifted his drink and took a sip. He gasped as the tequila burned its way down his throat. Tequila was one of his least favorite alcohols, but he didn’t mind a margarita occasionally. He just didn’t like his margaritas with enough tequila to eat through all of his organs.
“You told me that all female witches hated male witches.” Nolan moved to stand next to him, bumping their shoulders. “Well, I think this group, at least, is coming around. Mad and Red have made some friends. Even glaring Audrey is tolerating you better.”
“I have no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” Sky muttered.
“A good thing.” Nolan laughed and pressed a kiss to Sky’s temple.
Smiling, Sky turned his head and tipped his face up to his boyfriend, offering his lips to Nolan.
Yeah, he thought it. Boyfriend! He needed to tell Nolan that they were officially boyfriends now. At least they were in Sky’s head.
And his very smartboyfriendcaught the hint, giving him the sweetest kiss.
“All right! Enough of the kissy faces. Let’s get this show on the road. Some of us have potions steeping in the cauldron back home!” Audrey bellowed across the field.
Sky playfully rolled his eyes at Nolan and handed over his drink. “Stay out of danger. We’ll have this done quickly.”
“Hurry up, Grave Gremlin. I’ve got things I want to do to you later,” Nolan replied with a devilish smirk.
That was one way to get his ass in gear. He most definitely wanted to let Nolan do things to him. That had to be more fun than catching dandy dogs in the dark with a bunch of witches.
Chapter8
Nolan Banks
Nolan wandered over to a cluster of picnic tables covered in a variety of purses, bags, and backpacks belonging to the witches. He sat on the worn wooden bench, clutching Sky’s cold drink between both of his hands as he watched the witches gather in the center of the field. Their voices were a low, indistinct rumble.
Part of him wished he could be right there with Sky to hear their plans, but after his injury earlier in the evening, it was smarter to keep his distance.
As much as he’d argued that he wanted to be in the middle of the fight, right there at Sky’s side to support him, the necromancer had a good point. He was vulnerable. There were going to be times his support had to come from deep on the sidelines if he didn’t want to get himself killed.
“Sucks to be stuck on the sidelines, doesn’t it?”
Nolan’s head snapped up at the voice right next to him. A short woman stood a few feet away, a smirk lifting one corner of her thin lips. Her long dark hair was braided with a few ribbons and beads woven in among the strands. He couldn’t remember seeing her with the other witches. Maybe she’d arrived late.
There was something about her that screamed witch. A heavy aura about her that sort of thickened the air and weighed on his skin like an old quilt.
“I’m sorry?” he said, blinking a couple of times to clear his head.
Her grin widened, and she plopped onto the bench next to him with a jingle that reminded him of Sky’s Grammy. She slid the large patchwork bag from her shoulder and set it on the ground. A soft glass clink rose from it as the items inside shifted.
