6. X

X

" F ellatio!"

With a quick flick of my wrist, the spell for washing dishes comes to life.

The tap fills the sink with warm water, and the bottle of dish soap floats out from under it. I hate washing dishes.

I may be shitty with magic, but thank god I have enough skills to cobble together simple domestic spells.

"Did someone say fellatio?"

Charles wanders into the kitchen with a lopsided grin. He reaches for the coffeepot with bed-rumpled hair and a smirk.

"Calm down. I said it, but it's not what you're thinking. It's my kitchen spell."

He shrugs as he pours creamer into his coffee.

"A guy can hope it was on the breakfast menu." Charles plunks into a chair at the kitchen table with a laugh.

"Dude. You can have it whenever you want. I'm ninety-nine percent certain Dave will never say no."

"You're right." He sips from his cup. "Still would be cool to see it on a menu, don't you think? What did you make this morning, anyway?"

"French toast, sausages, scrambled eggs, banana muffins, and chocolate chip cookies. Big as your head cookies."

Charles pauses his coffee drinking and softens his gaze.

"How bad was the nightmare last night?"

With a puff, I lean back and scrub a hand down my face. Bad is such a general word. Sushi can be bad. A movie can be bad. But my nightmares? Bad doesn't even come close to describing them.

"It was…very realistic. I barely slept."

When I can't sleep, I cook.

I also cook when I'm stressed or anxious. Cooking or baking of any kind is a soothing balm for the anxiety the nightmares leave behind. But along with the nightmares last night, I laid awake thinking of the building I can't see.

"Have you heard from Faustus yet?"

Dave ambles into the kitchen with the same rumpled bedhead as Charles.

"Dad sent me a text and said he'd be here this morning." Dave drops a kiss on the top of Charles's head before pulling a mug from the cupboard. "He also asked if you baked those muffins he likes."

"Service me!" I snap my fingers and the breakfast food warming in the oven appears. Plates and cutlery clatter on the table, along with various condiments from the fridge.

Dave dodges the ketchup bottle as it loses its cap on the way to the table, leaving a trail of red along the floor. The bottle plops onto the table and knocks my coffee cup over. The remaining coffee inside pools on the table's surface and trickles to the edge.

With a deep sigh, I survey the mess. Dave pats my arm.

"I know it bothers you when your magic isn't perfect, but we don't mind."

Charles cleans up the coffee spill and the ketchup. Dave sits across from him and fills his plate with food, completely unfazed. He has two settings, horny and hungry. A kitchen mess won't stop him from settling the growl in his belly.

"I know. I just wish…I want better."

Dave cuts into his french toast and reaches for the syrup. Thank goodness that made it to the table without spilling. I found it by chance at the grocery store. It's from a small sugar shack in Quebec that honours the producer's late husband. That's something I can support, and it felt like the right thing to do. It's also damn good syrup.

"Back to Dad." Dave swallows and points his fork at me. "He said he has news, and if he's coming in person…it must be important."

"I have muffins." I offer weakly, and Dave smiles.

"He'd come even if you didn't make muffins. You're like family to him." Charles sips at his coffee and returns to his breakfast after cleaning the mess of my spell.

"If there's one thing Dad regrets, it's not being as fatherly to me as he should have. But he's a demon." Dave shrugs and runs his bacon through the ketchup on his plate. "He's not built for that sort of thing. But he also has his soft spots. He loved my mother once. He's not all bad."

"And somehow, I'm family to him now? He likes my cooking and teases me."

"But he's making a personal appearance. For you. Not Dave." Charles glances at Dave before he continues. "Faustus has few soft spots, but the three of us are important to him. He may show it in odd ways, but make no mistake, X, he cares."

I shake my head at Charles's nonsense.

Dave finishes his stack of french toast before raising his eyebrow at me. "Never underestimate my father. He may be more on the evil side, but he'll help if he feels it's right." He tilts his head, and his forehead scrunches. "Someone could die, but he'll help."

Charles reaches for a chocolate chip cookie from the plate on the table.

"This reminds me of the first time we met. Remember when I was in the church kitchen?"

Dave hums and leans over to bite Charles's cookie. "How can I forget? You were so hot when you—"

"Guys, please stop. We're eating here."

They both chuckle and eat cookies. Happier than anyone has a right to be. But that's what I want. Someone to look at me like Dave does Charles and share a cookie with.

We continue to chatter over breakfast, but the entire time, my thoughts are focused on what Faustus needs to come here in person to say .

"For fuck's sake, goddamn bullshit!"

The three of us turn to the doorway where Faustus stands. One foot is stuck in an old rubber boot, with an oversized toque on his head, and an old hockey sock over his shoulder.

"These minions better get their fucking transport systems fixed, or I'm forcing them all to eat Taco Bell for the rest of their damn lives!"

He shakes off the boot and rips the offending articles off his head and shoulders.

"If I have to enter this place from the closet one more time…." Faustus notices us staring and straightens his suit jacket. His usual composure returns and he pulls out a chair at the kitchen table.

"Can I get you a coffee? Muffin or a cookie?"

My voice squeaks as it always does when Faustus is near, and he smiles.

"That would be lovely, thank you, X."

Skipping the spell to pour coffee, I do it myself and take a moment to will my heart to remain in my chest and for my mouth to stay shut.

But I should know myself better.

"Please don't make me wait, Faustus. I'm not above begging. I have to know what you found out."

Faustus presses his lips together as he pulls a muffin apart with his ringed fingers.

"Well…how much do you still love your family?"

"I…I don't? They left me for dead, and my best friend died because of them."

He pops a piece of muffin in his mouth, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Faustus chews slowly and doesn't seem to care that I'm about to burst off my chair and shake him. Consequences be damned.

Dave's hand on my arm stops me when I move to stand, and Faustus notices. His ice-blue eyes focus on me, and for a moment, I see the softness Charles and Dave spoke about earlier. But it vanishes as fast as it came.

"Feel like going to visit a certain store today? Beautiful Belladonna?" Faustus wipes his fingers on the napkin before leaning back in the kitchen chair.

"I can see it now?"

He rests one foot on his knee, and his suit pants slide up to reveal a pair of smiley-face patterned socks. "See it, go inside, shop, burn the place down…whatever you want."

His words are too good to be true.

"How? What…I mean…what did you find out?"

He runs a finger over his lip as he chooses his words.

"Your father would have made a wonderful demon. He had a deal with someone a lot higher than me for his first-born son for, well, let's just say too much."

My jaw drops.

"He traded my brother for power? Holy shit."

"Well, your brother is mighty powerful himself, as you already know." He sips from his mug and turns an ice-cold stare my way. "But he's no match for me." His words are like a bucket of ice and I shiver with the lack of emotion.

"It was a cloaking spell on the building, so your intuition was right. Funny thing, it turns out you need hands to cast those spells. In fact, you need hands for most spells, is my understanding." Leaning forward, he finishes his muffin and smiles. "This is delicious as always, X."

"Did you…is my brother…"

"Ten fingers short of a good time?" He sneers. "I know you hate your brother, X. I know what they did to you. Let's just say I had some fun last night, and people paid for how they treated you. That's all you need to know."

"But why? Why would you do that for me?"

Faustus, in another rare moment of softness, gazes at Dave.

"Because sometimes you're gifted with a family by blood. Sometimes you're not. But it's always something to treasure when you have a family you love." He turns to me. "You're a good man, X. And you're part of this family. I did what I needed to help. I just hope you find what you're looking for there."

He stands abruptly and claps Dave on the shoulder.

"Son. Walk me out?"

Dave leaves with Faustus, and I sit in stunned silence with Charles.

Will I find what I'm looking for?

Dave returns a few minutes later .

"I'll take you back to the building today if you want company."

As much as I want to do this myself, it might be good to have a friend nearby.

"I'd like that. Let me get dressed and we can go."

Dave parks the car across the street from the magic shop and kills the ignition.

"How do you want to do this? Want me to come in with you or wait outside?"

"Do you feel like browsing a magic store?"

Dave shrugs, but there's a small smile forming. "I've never been to a magic store. It could be fun."

Smiling back at Dave, I nod.

"Don't touch stuff if you don't know what it is, and ask me anything. I'll sign up for the magic meeting and have a quick look around."

"Don't rush on my account, X. Take your time. It's a big deal."

Releasing a puff of air, my shaking hand opens the car door. He's not wrong. It is a big deal. As we walk to the building that only yesterday I couldn't even see, I'm breathless .

Beautiful Belladonna: Magic is everywhere if you believe.

The sign is gorgeous. The controversial belladonna plant set behind its name is scrolled in perfect old-world calligraphy, making my heart pang.

"Hey, you okay?"

Dave's hand on my arm has me nodding my head.

"Sorry. I was just thinking of how the sign alone reminds me of home." Swallowing thickly, I reach for the door. "Here goes nothing."

Pulling the heavy wooden door open, I hold my breath as I step into the first place to make me feel like a witch since I was a child.

Letting my eyes adjust to the dimly lit store, I drift towards the bookcases first. Pulling a book of spells out, I flip it open and browse the first recipe I come to.

"A potion to hypnotize," I murmur as I run my finger down the list with a sigh. "Clearly, this is a joke. These ingredients don't make a hypno-potion. And they're lacking a crucial ingredient."

Dave browses the shelves lined with jars of ingredients. He pulls out a pair of reading glasses and leans in closer to read the labels. I'll have to ask him what he thinks. And when he started wearing readers.

Placing the book back on the shelf, I choose another book based on the title in gilded golden letters along its bright red spine. ‘ Casting Spells: A Guide to Snagging the Love of Your Life. ' More garbage advice and ingredients. I'm not sure if I should be angry at the misrepresentation of witches or relieved people think this stuff works.

"Can I help you, sir?"

I spin to find an older man smiling. He wears a black t-shirt with the store's name on the front and a pair of faded jeans.

"Yes. Do people actually buy these things?" I wave my hand at the bookshelves, and the man continues to smile.

"Oh, yes. They mostly come to buy the stuff over there, though."

He points across the room at a table covered in various items. Crystals. Dried flowers and herbs. Little jars of bones. Butterfly wings. Dave currently holds a tiny jar up to face as he squints at what's inside.

"And they use that stuff for what? Spells in the books?"

"Yes."

The man clearly isn't the owner. Or a salesperson. The owner would have me by the arm and explain why they sell this stuff. The passion for their business and, hopefully, magic would bleed into their words. I want to meet that person.

"Is there a manager I can talk to?"

"Of course. I'll get the owner for you if you wish."

As he walks away to find the owner, I slide over to Dave.

"What's your vibe of this place?"

Dave places the jar he was examining back on the table and folds his glasses back into his pocket.

"When did you start wearing readers, by the way?"

"Ugh. When Charles caught me squinting at the crossword puzzle. But…I don't hate them." He glances around the store again and freezes. "I just saw the same vision as last time," Dave whispers, his eyes huge, and I grab his hand.

"Just now?"

"Can I help…oh my god. It's you ."

Dropping Dave's hand, I spin around to stare at the beautiful man from the sex club.

He has the smoothest voice I've ever heard. It's like silk sheets and Swiss chocolate.

His dark black hair, with a single curl that bobs on his forehead just like the other night, is in disarray. Brown eyes as warm as hot chocolate on a winter day blink in surprise.

Swallowing, I search for words and as I do so, once again, the man's aura flares. Like a burst of the Northern Lights, it surrounds him in a warm glow. The longer I stare at him, the more a shape emerges. But it disappears when Dave speaks.

"This is my friend X. He's really into magic and potions and stuff. I'm going to walk to the bakery. Take your time."

Dave leaves me with the mystery man, and I finally find the ability to speak.

"I, uh, wanted to get your number the other night, but you left."

His cheeks flush pink, and he swallows.

"Um, the man you were with gave me murder-y vibes. Sorry. I freaked out and left."

Offering my hand to him, I smile again. "I didn't get your name. It's nice to meet you. Even if you're not naked. "

A firm hand closes around mine, and the contact sends zaps up my arm.

"Clark. Nice to meet you too. Sorry about wearing clothes in my place of business."

His shy smile makes my heart trip. Then, my brain processes the words.

"You own this place?"

His smile drops, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, and I'm very proud of it."

Clark takes a step away, his back stiffening.

"I love it. I need to take the time to explore it further."

His smile returns, and his shoulders relax when he picks up my excitement to be here.

"So you practice magic, then?"

His voice is cautious, and I wonder if the cloaking spell extended to him somehow, too. Isn't he used to people coming in here to talk about their magic and potions?

"Yes, of course I do. What about yourself?"

Clark's lips part as his tongue darts out to wet them, and he steps closer.

"Practicing is a good word for what I do." He ducks his head. "I'm not used to attractive men coming in here and admitting they practice magic. Forgive me. But it's important to me for the men I like to share an interest in magic."

Be still my heart. He's flirting! With me!

"Well, Clark. It's important to me too. So much so that the reason I came here was to sign up for the magic club. Is there room for one more?"

Clark bites his lower lip, and his gaze nearly burns through my clothes.

"Of course. I need your name and number and you can show up…heck, that's tomorrow."

He walks behind the cash register and pulls out a book.

"So, can I get your number?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

As I rattle off my phone number, the excitement almost bubbles out to a scream.

"Feel free to use my number anytime to contact me." And, since we're obviously connecting, I go for it and make it extra clear. "Especially by video."

His heated stare sears my skin, and he nods with a sly smile.

"Noted."

Just like at the club, my body sways toward him, and I want to touch, but with some mighty willpower, I step away and keep my hands to myself.

"I'm, ah, I'll let you get back to work. Nice to meet you, Clark."

"The pleasure is all mine."

Before I make an awkward fool of myself, I give him a small wave and exit the store.

And for the first time in years, the future feels bright.