Maggie walked into the dining room, and I felt a sense of pride that she could do so without shaking in fear. She had come a long way since she arrived on my doorstep, scared, homeless, and starved.
She placed two platters on the dining table with a flourish and tucked her long brown hair behind her ears with her eyes on the floor. We still had work to do. One day, she would gaze into the eyes of any man and know she was safe because she had an army at her back, led by me.
“Vegetarian.” She pointed at the large platter between me and Rebecca. “And normal,” she said with a nod at the other one.
“I resent the word normal when used to describe non-vegetarian food,” Rebecca muttered.
Dave’s lip curled. “Unnatural is an excellent description for a vampire who refuses to eat meat.”
Maggie took an uncertain step back before rushing off to gather drinks.
“Is there a way of knowing what each thing is?” my father asked as he eyeballed the impressively colorful plate. What food was purple? Beetroot? Cabbage?
“Best to go in blind,” Sebastian offered as he grabbed a little square of toast topped with some kind of brown meat. He chewed thoughtfully as we waited for the verdict. He reached for another one. It must be okay. I chewed my lip as the vegetarian option seemed to stare at me.
Rebecca caught my eye and gestured to my plate. “Elementals first.”
“Chicken,” I muttered as I selected one of the bright green wafers with some kind of thick creamy substance on top. I crossed my fingers and popped the whole thing in my mouth and grimaced. What the hell? What was that in the middle?An eyeball,my stupid brain supplied. A shudder ran over my shoulders as I fought the urge to spit it out. To pop, or not pop? That was the question.
Maggie reappeared with a tray of drinks. I wish I didn’t have to chew, but swallowing whatever this was would probably cause it to lodge in my throat, and I’d end up with a depressing headstone.Cora Roberts—survived horrific torture but couldn’t manage a snack.
“How is it?” she asked. I eyeballed the tray of drinks and willed her to hurry up so I could wash this down. She started at the other end of the table and allowed my father to snag the Diet Coke. Guess I would have to swallow unaided. The option to let this sit on my tongue while she served the other supernaturals was unappealing.
I gave her a thumbs up as a brush of fur rubbed up against my legs. The White Furry Menace was here to witness my pain and snub the human food with gifts of the rodent variety. Sadly, they were more appealing.
The lump slid down my throat, and I worked hard to force it to remain in my stomach and not regurgitate it like some momma bird. “That’s different,” I managed.
She grinned. “Spinach wafer topped with cream cheese.”
On the surface, it seemed like a good idea. But in true Maggie style, she had somehow taken inert ingredients that went well together and drove them apart like magnets. Hudson’s hand moved toward the same snack.
“Did you put your own spin on it?” I wondered.
She nodded. “It seemed a little boring and predictable, so I added a little fresh ginger, some grated lime, and sugar to balance out the zest. Oh, and a little surprise olive.” That accounted for the eyeball and the odd competing flavors that rioted on my tongue—and not in a good way.
Hudson changed course and snatched a mini round sandwich with a pink filling. Pink was a no for me when it came to food. My brain did not find the color appetizing.
Abaddon choked at the other end of the table, his eyes watering. The world was right once more when the angel of death got to be tortured like the rest of us. “What is—” Aunt Liz cut him a scathing look, and Abaddon’s words died on his tongue, much like his taste buds. He snapped his mouth closed.
“Thank you for all the time and effort you put into providing these delicious snacks, Maggie,” my aunt said.
The supernaturals chorused their agreement. If there was one good thing about being brought up around a tyrannical bitch, it was the ability to force everyone to their will with little more than a look.
“Thanks, guys,” Maggie said as she finished doling out the drinks. I thankfully got the pink lemonade made by Aunt Liz. “There will be fresh cookies ready after your super secret meeting, which I absolutely know nothing about.”
Cookies, on the other hand, Maggie was unmatched at, no matter the flavor. How she could be such a terrible cook, yet produce baked goods to die for, I would never understand. It was a great mystery of the universe.
She skipped out of the room, and I raised my hands, reciting the words to the spell I had permanently etched into the surrounding walls. A shield of silence fell around us, and Harry shimmered in and out of existence while his ghostly form struggled to maintain his presence. Give it a second… he sighed as the spell recognised him and everyone else here. Getting the wards to recognise a ghost wasn’t easy, but I had persevered, determined to make it work. He was representing his kind, after all.
Everyone ignored the dangerous snacks and got down to business.
“Any sightings of Eloise?” Lucifer asked.
“Other than her hovering around prominent politicians who are on the campaign trail, no,” Aunt Liz supplied.
“And she’s not been in touch with me either,” I added before anyone could ask. My blood still burned with betrayal at the horror she had subjected me to. I’m pretty sure she knew that and no longer feigned any kind of grandmotherly love to manipulate my affections.
“Any murmurings from up top?” Lucifer asked as he slid a look at Abaddon.
