Not wanting my guests to see me in my night clothes, I change out of my modest pinstriped pajamas. As arepresentative of the town, I’d be mortified to be caught in something as messy as a baggy t-shirt or Mother Earth forbid anything even remotely revealing. Especially byhim. So, my few pajama sets will be in heavy rotation while the house is full.
As I slip a fitted navy V-neck sweater over my head, there’s a knock on my bedroom door. “Yes?” I ask tentatively toward the closed door, as I hastily pull my arms through the sleeves.
“I made breakfast for everyone. Come down if you’re hungry,” Aurelia intones from the other side, laced with an enthusiasm for the day I don’t share.
“Thanks, I’ll be down shortly,” I answer, my voice imbued with false cheeriness, attempting to match her energy. I choose a white knit blend wide leg trouser from the closet and pull them on. I add a belt that’s drawn tighter than usual to hold them up. My lack of appetite must be catching up with me. Not even Aurelia’s divine cooking sounds appetizing. That’s unusual for me.
I freshen up in my en-suite bathroom, making sure I look put together before heading downstairs for breakfast. As I step into the hallway, a mighty “mrowrrr” sounds from behind me along with an ungraceful gallop of oversized cat paws. I’m unsurprised to see Vanny, such a giant boy, barely swerving around me as he hoofs it downstairs for his morning meal. Maybe I’ll give him some of mine when no one is looking.
Aurelia and Niven are in the kitchen, standing next to each other by the stove. She must have recruited him to help. It looks like they have several dishes going at once. Earl Grey and Vanny sit impatiently by their food bowls, their tails whipping around. As usual, they chow down the moment the food hits their bowls. Aurelia comes over and gives them some good scratches, cooing, “Save some room, boys! I made a sausage just for you to share.” We both laugh as they start to purr at the mention of sausage.
“What a nice wake up call,” I say as I peek at the food. “I’m sure everyone will be coming downstairs any moment. It smells amazing.”
“I tried my hand at your dad’s biscuit recipe in the book you showed me the other night. I don’t have much experience with biscuits, but we’ll see how they taste!” she cautions me as she pulls the baking sheet out of the oven and sets it over two potholders on the counter.
“Give yourself more credit! They look exactly as they should. Perfectly golden.”
“Aurelia, you’re spoiling us,” Niven proclaims as he steps toward the stove again, taking a big whiff of the biscuits as he passes.
“I put him on gravy duty. He’s pretending he’s not a decent cook himself,” Aurelia teases.
“I’m much better at eating than cooking,” he replies with a wink.
Figuring it’s only a matter of time until the aromas wafting from the kitchen lure everyone else downstairs, I quickly set the table. We’re still one chair short, but I’ll just eat at the counter. Sure enough, heavy steps mingled with the staccato of dainty hoof clopping descend the stairs.
“Grab your plates and serve yourselves!” Aurelia calls out to Tallie, Cyrinda, and Norrell as they shuffle into the kitchen. She spears a sausage out of the pan and sets it aside on a small plate. “Don’t want the boys to get burned,” she comments to me over her shoulder.
I wait while everyone serves themselves biscuits, gravy, and sausage. There’s also a fruit salad on the table. Norrell tries to gesture for me to go first, but I wave him ahead. The coffee pot is drained, so I brew another for the group. I cut up the cats’ sausage into tiny pieces and set it on the table so anyone can feed them if they wish. The moment I do, the boys race over and bothhop onto Norrell’s lap, jostling for position. I seal my lips, so I don’t tell them to get down, not wanting to make a scene. The betrayal churning inside me is irrational. I know it comes down to him having a large and very warm lap.
“Are you leading that emergency meeting today?” Tallie asks Niven before shoving a huge bite of biscuit into her mouth and humming her appreciation to Aurelia.
“I am. Until this, we had no reason to believe the warlocks were still nearby. It would not make sense for them to stay so close. We expected them to put as much distance as possible between them and Monstera Bluff before going into hiding. But they’re up to something.Again,” Niven says balefully.
Can they sneak back into town? Are they trying to get revenge on me and Cara? My heart is in my throat. I need some distance from this conversation. I’m glad I’m not at the table. The counter I’m leaning against isn’t far enough. I lower my head and focus on my plate so they can’t see my reaction. A biscuit, a sausage, a little gravy. That’s more than I can stomach right now.
As the others speculate about the warlocks’ plans, Norrell offers little pieces of sausage to each cat between his own bites of food. The little turncoats look like they’re on cloud nine. It keeps me from enjoying my breakfast.
“What is there to discuss? Go get them and interrogate them like you do. As drawn out and painful as possible. And if you break their minds a little? All the better,” Cyrinda fumes, a steely edge to her voice.
“That’s the plan,” Niven responds, unflappable. “But we’ll need to coordinate with the constabulary and send out tracking teams to apprehend them. We don’t know exactly where they are yet.”
“Can we all join in to kick some warlock ass?” Tallie jumps in gesturing excitedly around the room with her manicured green hand.
“No, not all of us,” Niven clarifies, and a look passes between them. He means me. I’m magickless and defenseless. And I wouldn’t be interested anyway. The fight with the fae was out of necessity, not choice.
Norrell watches me throughout this exchange, still slowly feeding the cats as they purr and rub their cheeks on him.
“Of course. What was I thinking?” Tallie shakes her head, giving me a sheepish smile.
As I pick at my plate wishing I was invisible, Norrell clears his throat and offers, “Ada, would you like my seat? The cats can move to another spot.”
I force out a lukewarm response. “No thanks. I’m done anyway.” I walk over to the garbage with my half-eaten plate and slide the food into it. The coffee finally finishes brewing so I fill a mug for myself and then walk around the table for refills. Honestly, coffee is the only thing that sounds palatable right about now.
“This meal is delicious, Aurelia,” Norrell compliments her. “I have not had biscuits like this in a very long time.”
“Oh, in about fifteen years?” Cyrinda drawls. Norrell looks at her curiously.
Aurelia elbows Cyrinda, who makes a face at her. “I appreciate that. The recipe is from Ada’s father,” Aurelia explains. Understanding dawns on his face, and he fixes his gaze at me with an unreadable expression. I look away, busying myself with the coffee pot again.
