Myra handed him a shirt and Jean just scoffed. “Oh, yeah, she’s so into vacationing. Can’t you tell?”
Chris nodded and shimmied into the shirt. “I can tell.”
“We’re gathering quite the crowd,” Ryder said. “How are we going to convince the humans they didn’t see what they just saw?”
Myra looked to me, I looked to the gods all standing in their own huddle. They made a point of pretending they hadn’t been eavesdropping on us. Probably didn’t want to volunteer to pick up their powers for something this small, since that would mean they’d have to leave Ordinary, and their vacations, for a year.
“I got this,” Jean said. “Boyfriend?” she asked Hogan. “Would you grant me a wish?”
Hogan still had his arm around her waist. “You know I’d do anything for you, babe. But there’s a limit on wishes. You sure you want to use one now?”
She tipped her head up and fluttered her lashes. “Can we negotiate later? Tonight? In bed? When I do that thing with my mouth that you—”
He clamped his hand over her mouth, and if his skin hadn’t been so dark, and it hadn’t been raining so hard, I would have sworn he was blushing.
“What’s your wish?” he asked. “Be specific.”
He dropped his hand and Jean straightened a bit, thinking through what she was going to say.
He stood in front of her, both hands on her upper arms, catching her gaze. “You got this. You totally got this.”
She nodded. “All right. I wish that all the humans of Ordinary who do not know about the gods and magic and supernaturals in the town, and those among them who saw, or took pictures or video of the monster, no longer remember the monster.”
“And,” he encouraged.
“And they instead saw… a storm and big waves and crashing water and driftwood in the waves. Maybe a whale. And,” she added, her voice going up in a question, “the pictures they took and videos are all deleted?”
“That’sveryspecific,” he said.
“But you can do that?”
“As you wish.” He gave her a little bow.
Aw. Movie quote love.
Jean’s smile softened and she gazed at him like he hung the moon. “I amsogonna do that thing you like with my mouth tonight.” She breathed out dreamily.
He chuckled then turned to me. “I don’t grant her wishes all the time.”
“That’s good.”
“Most of her wishes are just little things.”
“Okay.”
“Food things. Bedroom things.”
“Didn’t need to know that last part.”
“If I were ever going to grant a really big wish, I’d run it past you or Myra first.”
“Hogan,” I said. “I am one hundred percent in favor of you granting my sister’s wish. Now would be good.”
Relief smoothed his face into a smile. Hogan wasn’t someone who liked to throw his magic around. Wishes could be dangerous.
“All right,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s grant this thing.” He recited something silently, his mouth moving, his eyes closed. Then he clapped his hands together hard. Once. Twice.
Wishes were tricky magic. They weren’t flashy like curses or showy like spells. They were more of a gift, a boon. They were hope inherent: the sound of an ice cream truck pulling up to the curve, the glow of birthday candles right before they became smoke, a love letter unopened.
