Page 9 of Amber: Deja Brew

Chapter 4

Chase

We quietly file out of the bedroom, leaving Julian to finish his call. My hope is he’ll tell his family the truth, and that they’ll take it well, but Amber clearly doesn’t think so. At least not if her tense shoulders and furrowed eyebrows are anything to go by.

“You alright, sweetheart?” I ask softly as I close the bedroom door behind us.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Amber gives me a fake smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Good,” Wes says absently. “I should put the quiche in the oven.”

I’m surprised that he doesn’t notice the sad look that flits over Amber’s face. Is he worrying about how his own family will react? And will they really care that much that he’s mated to a Chameleon instead of a Bear?

I consider just asking outright—and offering to help with breakfast while I’m at it—but the disappointed look on Amber’s face as she watches Wes go stops me. One, she needs me. And two, I’ve never even had quiche, so how much help could I possibly be?

The moment Wes turns his back on us, Amber shifts into a troll. It’s strange how she can take on a completely different form, and yet when I look at her, I still see my Amber.

I take her very large hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze. That seems to do the trick, because Amber instantly shifts back, and I lead her across the living room. I try to find a place for us to sit, which shouldn’t be this challenging, but the living room is a complete disaster. The three couches are pushed back against the window and piled high with takeout containers and dirty laundry. The same is true for all the chairs, at least the ones that don’t have other chairs stacked on top of them.

“Sorry about the mess.” Amber grabs a fuzzy pink sweater from the nearest couch. I follow her lead and pick up a large, navy blue hoodie that I assume belongs to Julian. I start folding it, but Amber tosses her sweater onto the couch closest to the window. When she does the same with a jean jacket, I chuck the hoodie after it.

“Why do you guys have so much furniture?” I ask as I toss a pair of sweatpants after it. “Did it all come with the place?”

“Nope. Juli magicked it.”

“You can magic furniture?” I gape at the massive amount of furniture surrounding me. “I thought I read somewhere that witches can’t make stuff appear out of nothing?”

“They can’t. But they can grow and shrink things.” At my confused look, Amber grins. “We bought a bunch of doll house furniture and Julian used a spell to expand it to human-sized.”

“What for? Are you planning to sell it?” It seems like a great business plan to me. I grab the nearest chair, a fancy wooden thing upholstered with floral fabric, and decide to test it out.

“Chase, wait!” Amber cries, but it’s too late. The chair collapses beneath me. The next thing I know, I’m flat on the floor, surrounded by broken chair parts.

“What happened?” Wes comes running from the kitchen.

“Not really sure.” I get back to my feet and dust off my jeans, making sure to get rid of any errant wood splinters. “Do you need any help with breakfast? Maybe Amber and I can set the table?”

“We don’t have a table,” Amber says.

“Pretty sure you do.” I gesture at the two dining tables, which are both tilted on their sides so they take up less room.

“They’re not all that great. One’s crooked, so stuff kind of just slides off it, and the other’s wobbly. Plus, there’s no guarantee they wouldn’t break.” She gestures at the broken chair at our feet. “Most of the furniture isn’t really usable, apart from the couch. It’s not comfortable, but at least it’ll hold our weight.”

“Good to know,” Wes says, examining one of the wooden chairs closest to him.

“Shouldn’t you just get rid of it then?” I ask.

“Eventually. There’s a junkyard on the other side of town, but the furniture’s pretty bulky, and Juli and I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Can’t he shrink it back to doll-sized and then throw it out?”

“He can, but we’re worried he’ll shrink our beds or some of the stuff downstairs, too. His magic can be a bit... unpredictable.”

I think back to the way he made the cafe’s front door explode—not to mention the spelled pumpkin spice latte that brought us all together—and nod.

“Actually, I have an idea.” Wes suddenly spins around and races out of the apartment.

“Where are you going?” Amber calls after him. “Wes, wait up!”