“I know. She’s amazing, but it’s going to take days to replant and years to get it back.” It had taken Liesl and I two weeks of hard labor to set the stones and plant between them. I was tearing up. Liesl, my bestie growing up, was now a biodynamic farmer raising Kashmir goats up north. She’d be up to the challenge, but this was crushing. I grabbed one of Ant’s favorite mouse toys, then cracked the kitchen door open. “Ant?” I called out while jingling the bell.
“Ant?” I called again, my heart squeezing with concern. The scrabble of claws on wood turned everything golden. Ant appeared on the top of the fence and parkoured down into the singed yard. She streaked across the ruined mosaic, then shot past my legs.
I closed the door, leaning against it with relief. Ant was safe, and the garden could be repaired. Now to deal with the wizard.
Ant hissed like another cat was in the kitchen. She’d frozen by her water bowl. Her back was arched, and her tail puffed out. She growled from her belly.
“Ant!” I crouched down, but she hissed again in Ranth’s direction. Then before I could get to her, she skirted the baseboard and flew out of the kitchen. Her paws thudded up the stairs at Mach 1.
“What the?” Ori said.
“I dunno. Spirit-wizard issues?” I glared at Ranth whose reply was a raised eyebrow smirk. “She’s safe. That’s the important thing.” Pushing back against a wizard scaring my cat and the crippling panic of knowing that demons, which could pop at any time, were able to burn pieces of my world to crispy bits, I crossed the kitchen to the fridge. With sleep unlikely, food was the best choice to get me through whatever the next few hours looked like. I eyed the coconut cashew gelato thinking how good it would be if it were Ori and I, a couple of spoons, and endless episodes ofCharmed. But this wizard was here, and I hadn’t even recovered fully from Brenda’s. Suppressing the memory of her almost-death, I poured out glasses of pressed spinach, cucumber, kale, and apple juice and handed plant-based protein energy bars to Ori and Ranth.
Ranth stared at the bar which I’d pre-ripped for him. “What is this?”
If he was human, did he function as a human? Demons don’t need to eat to sustain themselves, and spirits don’t need human sustenance, although they’re often fascinated by it. “Food,” I replied, hoping for a no-go.
He put the bar under his nose like a gorilla would sniff an unfamiliar fruit.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed, then popped a morsel of the organic, raw almond butter and brown rice bar in my mouth to cover it.
Ranth sniffed the bar again and then followed my example. Chewing, his eyes narrowed, causing little forehead furrows.
“Hmmm, dates. Needs camel’s milk.”
He could eat human food. That meant he was in fact “human,” and I’d have to hold to my personal code of magic. It also meant his story might be true. If he wasn’t a demon, I couldn’t dissipate him. If he wasn’t a spirit, I couldn’t get rid of him. This was a much bigger disaster than I could have ever imagined.
CHAPTER NINE
Ipoured everyone a second glass of green juice and whispered to Ori, “Gonna go down and grab some stuff. You good for a sec?”
She nodded, and I cocked my head in Ranth’s direction with a clear unspoken signal that said,Don’t let him go anywhere. It was a blessing not to be alone in this—alone with him.
But as I walked to the stairs that led from the kitchen to the basement, Ranth followed me, and by the time I’d gotten the double lock open, he hovered next to me.
“You’re staying here with Ori.” Though those words made me question why I thought I could trust him with Ori.
He shook his head. “I can’t. Now that you’ve released me from the bracelet, I still have to be within a certain space of you. It’s part of the curse.”
“What happens if you are outside it?”
“I expect it would be very painful, like dying.” His lips pressed together, and his jaw twitched.
I paused, considering the new info. “Will you really die?”
His eyes softened. “I don’t know. Perhaps.”
That moment stilled between us. The rise of his amber scent raised the hairs up on my arms as if they were reaching for him. To get rid of him, I could lock him into something and walk away—but if that would kill him, for real, then he’d have to stay around until I could figure out a humane exit strategy. It was going to make things even more complicated because people counted on me. I took promises very seriously, and I couldn’t leave my clients hanging while I sorted out my personal stuff.
What if he was lying? I exchanged glances with Ori. “Fine, you can come down, but don’t touch anything—and I meananything.”
He nodded but gave me a little smile that dimpled his cheek.
The string of fairy lights that lit the stairs wavered above me as I descended. Ranth’s sandals slapped the stair treads with a steady beat.
At the bottom, I paused, sucking in the scents of beeswax and herbs which mingled with old incense. For a second, it wiped out the scent of him.
My workshop had been Mom’s special place, and after her passing, I’d made it my haven. Neat shelves of glass bottles, vials, and jars lined the north wall. On the east side, beside a coppery leather chair, glazed-door bookcases housed my most precious tomes. Along the south wall, a slab of old-growth redwood jutted out as a workspace. Rising above the even surface was a natural burl that Mom had chosen for heraltar space. There, I always placed elements of the moon and season. March’s offerings were aquamarine, cherry blossoms, and spring water. It would be April soon, the anniversary of her leaving.
