Chapter Eight

T wo delays and almost an entire day later, we were finally on terra firma. Oh, what a nightmare. Des had a meltdown on the plane after a grumpy old human kept kicking the back of his seat. Though I wanted to punish the cantankerous man with a spell of flatulence when he told me to ‘control my bratty kid,’ I didn’t want to have to smell his recirculating farts, so I did the next best thing. I whispered a curse for a painfully uncontrollable erection. The old dude couldn’t kick Des’s seat while he was stuck in the bathroom, occasionally returning with a sweat-drenched, crimson face and his jacket draped in front of his groin. The people sitting beside him asked to be reassigned to different seats rather than stare at his erect circus tent. When we finally landed and stood to disembark, he was still curled up in his seat, his face flushed while he avoided eye contact with everyone.

I grabbed our carry-ons, handing them to Des and Ethyl, and then I slipped my lipstick wand out of my purse, whispering a reversal spell. Had the old man suffered long enough? Probably not, but I wasn’t sure when I’d see him again, and I couldn’t leave him like that forever. He’d probably spend a small fortune on penile specialists and throw out all his little blue pills, so at least I’d saved someone the misfortune of having to sleep with him.

His shoulders slumped, and he let out a groan as his windsock deflated.

I leaned over the seat, shooting him a glare. “Never call my son a brat again.” Then I nodded toward his groin, flashing a knowing grin. “Or the next one won’t go down.”

The old guy’s eyes bulged as he turned ghostly white.

Ethyl let out a devious cackle while nudging me in the ribs. “Good one, Luci.”

Had I risked imprisonment and broken a few rules in the witchcraft guidebook? Yes. Was it worth it? Also, yes.

Witches weren’t allowed to curse humans out of spite, but in my defense, this curse had also stopped him from bullying a striga child. Besides, nobody would know but Ethyl and me.

Des absolutely hated the crowded lines, so Ethyl and I played distraction games to get his mind off the crush of humans. I felt as worn out as a rusty and dented cauldron by the time we got through customs. So preoccupied was I with Des that I hadn’t thought about our next move. There were many taxicab drivers vying for our attention, but one stood out among the crowd, an older witch with a hook nose and arms so hairy, I thought he must’ve been part troll. But he had a soft aura and a kind smile.

I flinched, my hand flying to my skull at the sudden onset of a migraine. Ugh, not now. Though I wasn’t surprised after the stress I’d endured these past few days paired with two nights of rough sleep.

“This way,” I said to Ethyl while tugging on Des’s hand, leading them toward the driver’s compact European car. I did my best to ignore the migraine that created a fog in my skull. I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it now, anyway. Perhaps it would go away after a bite to eat and a glass or two of wine, plus one very powerful headache spell.

The cab driver had mahogany eyes, but, thankfully, no trace of crimson. I thought there was a better way to check, but my brain was so fogged, I couldn’t remember. Despite what had happened to my parents, Colin had always said that demons were so rare that we’d have better odds of being struck by lightning. I still refused to take chances, especially now that a succubus was after us.

The witch introduced himself as Antonio. He had a thick Italian accent, a full head of dark, hair peppered with gray, and a friendly and affectionate manner that immediately put me at ease. After Antonio put our suitcases in the trunk, Ethyl and Des squeezed into the back of his car with Puffy’s carry-on between them, and I sat up front.

Des tuned us out by putting on his headphones and focusing on his screen. I didn’t mind. He needed the decompression time after being around so many people. All things considered, he handled the flight pretty well.

Puffy’s large golden eyes practically glowed within the bag’s shadows. He squinted and let out a purr of satisfaction as Ethyl petted his head.

“Where to, signorina ?” Antonio asked me.

Signorina ? Young lady in Italian. I liked him already. I shot Ethyl a look.

“Someplace cheap where we can stay near the Divinus de Magicus,” she answered.

She was right to request cheap, for the plane tickets had cost more than I’d anticipated, and I was already almost out of Ric’s money. “Do you know any affordable hotels?” I asked Antonio.

“You mean hostels,” Ethyl corrected. “Hotels are too expensive, but there are a few hostels for single witches.”

“Yeah.” Antonio made a face while turning onto the road. “I know few, but they dumps.”

I cringed at that. “How dumpy?”

He shrugged while casually draping his hand over the wheel. “Usually infested with gnome-roaches and mosquito-sprites.”

Ethyl made a terrified squeak.

“Oh my.” I swallowed back my unease while doing mental calculations of my checking account and credit card balances along with my unpaid bills. “How much do I need to spend to stay in a nice hotel?”

“At least two hundred euros a night,” he said.

Ugh. I should’ve planned this trip better, but I hadn’t thought to call a travel agent while fleeing for our lives. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Tell you what, my wife and I have bed-and-breakfast,” Antonio said. “We had guests leave early.” He released the wheel, making a big show with his hands. “Big room with two beds. You welcome to sleep there.”

I nervously swallowed while eyeing the road. The wheel must’ve been enchanted, because we stayed on course.

“How much?” I asked him.

He rubbed his chin while eyeing Ethyl and Des in the rearview mirror. “Let’s say, eighty euros a night.”

“We’ll take it,” Ethyl blurted.

Though we couldn’t telepathically speak to each other, I was able to convey my thoughts to my friend with a look over my shoulder. Are you crazy? You don’t even know this man. He could be a succubus.

She tapped her eyes and smiled, and I knew she was trying to reassure me because she didn’t see the obvious sign of demon possession.

“What’s the name of your bed-and-breakfast?” I asked him.

His grin nearly stretched ear to ear. “La Bella Casa.”

Ethyl tapped her phone screen then held out the phone to me with a triumphant grin. “How quaint. Look at this place.”

I took the phone from her and swiped through pictures of an old stone building with a pretty terrace garden and a view of downtown Rome. “Oh, it’s adorable. Does that price include meals?” I asked Antonio.

He cringed, and his face flushed a deep crimson. “My wife, she no such good cook, but I cut some salami, cheese, and olives. The French say charcuterie .” He flashed an infectious grin. “But we Italians say, salumi (sal-oo-me).”

“Sounds good.” Free salami, a cheap room, and most importantly, no gnome-roaches. I leaned back in my seat, and for the first time since disembarking, heaved a breath of relief. “Thanks, Antonio.”

IT TOOK ALMOST TWO hours to reach our destination after the freeway had been reduced to one lane due to a major accident. A car on the other side of the dividing wall, now a burned-out shell, scattered debris to both sides of the freeway. I sent a silent prayer to the Goddess to take the victims into the light, for it was clear nobody survived.

After we passed through the portico of the old stone wall known as the Aurelian Wall, we were instantly transported from a sprawling, modern city to Ancient Rome. What humans didn’t realize was that even though the wall surrounding Rome was roughly twelve miles in length, there was another eight-mile wall, the Murus de Magicus, within the Aurelian, visible only to striga eyes. Though we dwelled in the same space as those tourists in Rome, we were in an entirely different dimension. Confusing and weird, I know, but striga preferred to live separately from humans, especially after the medieval witch hunts. Humans generally didn’t like what they didn’t understand, and we preferred not to burn at the stake or be dunked in hot oil. Not that many striga had been executed. Humans mostly slaughtered their own kind who had the misfortune of being quirky or simply disliked.

The Divinus de Magicus was located beneath the city in underground caverns protected with so many concealment and blocking enchantments, that only witches who had permission from the Divinus higher-ups could get through their wards. Even though I was an alpha witch who had mastered ward breaking at an early age, I doubted even I could break through their wards, which meant I’d have to come up with a creative way to get inside. Either that or throw the world’s biggest fit in front of their entrance until someone let me in.

As we drove down one narrow road and then another, I was in awe of the sights, from beautiful stone statues to the magnificent, ancient Colosseum. Then Antonio passed down a much narrower road, and we drove beneath what looked like a sheer curtain, the Murus de Magicus, and we were instantly transported to an enchanted area visible only to striga.

I turned around and waved in front of Des. “Look outside,” I mouthed to him.

He took off his headphones and finally pulled away from his screen. “Whoa!”

There were striga of all shapes and sizes, including a large variety of unseen. In the magical world, we were broken into two categories, the seen and unseen. Those of us who looked more human were the seen while those creatures who would cause humans to have heart attacks while simultaneously crapping their pants were the unseen. Humans couldn’t see them, which was a good thing. Most unseen, like the Anubis that worked for Gus, had the option of entering the husk realm by using a glamour spell to make them look human. The same type of spell Ethyl used to conceal her wings.

The unseen generally lived in the bigger cities with larger magical populations, except for gnomes. They lived everywhere and caused more mischief than all magical creatures combined. Gnomes were notorious thieves, though they generally returned the items they stole, choosing to misplace them while disorienting humans and sometimes even lower level striga. The humans who lost their cell phones, glasses, and shoes several times a day usually had gnome infestations in their homes. Striga knew to call an exterminator when things went missing. The gnomes’ favorite pastime was watching humans aimlessly wander the house looking for their misplaced items. But we saw no gnomes outside. They were most likely hiding within the city’s walls.

We did see dragons, tauruses, satyrs, werewolves, vampires, trolls, and elves—all congregating in the town square where various vendors set up tents to sell their wares.

“Ohh, a bazaar!” Ethyl squealed. “We must go shopping!”

“I’m not here to shop,” I reminded her, then I bit my lip when Antonio’s brows raised. “At least, not until after we’ve rested,” I added, pretending we were just tourists on an adventure.

The statues in the town square were mostly mythical monsters like dragons, hydras, and wyverns, and then my heart stopped when I saw a golden sphinx statue in the center of the town square. He was standing over a flaming bird emerging from a hatched egg. The sphinx and the phoenix. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen these mythical creatures together. My parents had left me a necklace with the same emblem, a sphinx with a phoenix emerging from his heart. They’d never explained to me what it meant, though I’d learned in magical history classes that the sphinx had been the phoenix’s guardian in ancient times. According to legend, the phoenix wasn’t actually a bird, but a symbol of a white witch that had godlike powers. Of course, it was only fantasy. There were no gods in our world. Only demons. Very bad ones.

I rubbed my temple as that awful migraine increased. Ugh. I sure hoped Antonio’s home had a soaking bathtub. I’d need that, plus a glass of wine to get over this.

A large mob of striga, some with horns, some with hoods, and others with tails and claws, waved signs and paced in front of the statue. I tried to read some of the signs, though they were in Italian.

Antonio shook his head and clucked his tongue while staring at the protestors.

“What do their signs say?” I asked him.

He frowned. “Justice for all striga.”

I pointed to another sign, mouthing the words. “Diablo Medici. What’s that?”

He dragged a hand down his face with a groan. “Basically, the evil nobility.”

“Yikes.” I shared a look with Ethyl while Des stared out the window. “I had no idea there was this much unrest among the magical European classes.”

“Things are much different here than in your American bubble,” Antonio said, his frown deepening. “The caste system is strong here. It’s harder for witches to advance if they aren’t born into the right families.”

Was that censure I heard in his voice? American bubble? I didn’t know what else to say, so the words flew from my mouth like vomit. “Oh, that’s too bad.” I worried my words lacked empathy, but I never knew what to say in situations like this.

Antonio pulled down another street and up a narrow, steep driveway. He pressed a remote attached to his visor, and the gate opened to a walled yard. We parked on the side of the charming house I recognized from the pictures. “We here, signorinas . Let me show you your room.”

I slid out of the car, very aware that my dull migraine was still there like a gnome pounding a hammer in the back of my skull.

Des tugged on my jacket and pointed to a rickety old shed in the backyard.

“What?” I whispered.

But he didn’t answer as Antonio ushered us through the back entrance of the house and up a creaky staircase to a room at the end of the hall. He pushed open the door, revealing a quaint room with two double beds and a terrace that overlooked a garden on the side of the house.

“This is bedroom for signorinas and bambino .” He nodded toward a door down the hall. “Bathroom down there. You must share with my other guests, but they satyrs, so they mostly go outside.”

“Oh, okay.” I inwardly cringed. Share a bathroom with satyrs? I’d better not find a pile of goat turd balls in the toilet.

“My shift is over, but wife still at work.” He stretched his back while rubbing his round belly. “Please, help yourself to food in kitchen, but do not go through locked wooden door.” Shadows fell across his features as a sudden chill swept through the room. “That is la casa for me and wife.”

I swallowed while rubbing warmth into my arms. “Of course. Thank you, Antonio.”

He didn’t return my smile. Odd.

“What’s the wi-fi password?” Ethyl blurted while holding up her phone. “My reception isn’t great.”

I looked from her to Des as he eagerly banged against his iPad screen. “Yeah, it’s slow.”

“No wi-fi!” Antonio snapped as he slammed the door behind him, leaving the three of us alone.

Des whined and Ethyl made a sputtering sound.

“We’ll be too busy to need our computers, anyway,” I said to my son as a way of appeasing him, even though his bottom lip looked ready to fall to the floor.

I gaped at the shut door, confused how Antonio had transformed from a jolly elderly witch into a grumpy old fart. Perhaps he was a bear shifter. I heard they were temperamental. Whatever the reason, I had an uneasy feeling that we shouldn’t have come here. Suddenly, those gnome-roaches weren’t sounding so bad.

AFTER I FLUSHED TWO tiny ball turds and a pile of goat pubes down the toilet and then freshened up, I returned to find Ethyl and Des in their beds. Des was playing video games and Ethyl was swiping her magical dating app.

I walked onto our little terrace, fragrant with all kinds of flowers that bloomed even beneath the light of the moon. I leaned against the low brick wall, looking down at the darkened cobblestones beneath me, and smiled to myself as the sweet sound of violin music filtered from somewhere beyond the rows of ancient buildings with cracks on the surfaces and bricks crumbling in some spots. Somewhere in the distance, a deep church bell rang, so powerful it reverberated my bones. I breathed out a sigh of relief after eight bell tones. I mentally calculated that it was Sunday night. Our date had been two nights ago. How odd it seemed a lifetime ago that Ric had inhaled my popcorn bucket.

The air displaced above me, and I heard Puffy’s excited squeal. I looked up to see the dragon flapping his wings above my head, little rings of smoke following in his wake.

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?” Ethyl asked as she leaned against the wall beside me.

I pushed off from the wall, worrying the old brick wouldn’t hold both of us. “Did Antonio seem weird to you?”

“No.” She arched a brow. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” I turned my gaze to the cloudy night sky. “I kind of got a vibe from him.”

“A vibe?”

I shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but something seemed off.”

She laughed, tossing her pink ponytail behind her. “You’re not used to foreign witches.”

I shot her a dark look, then winced when that stabbing in my skull intensified. I needed a drink. “And you are?”

She flashed a wicked grin. “You forget I spent two summers shagging my way across Europe.”

I swatted her shoulder. “How could I?”

Especially not after listening to her go into great detail about her many lovers. I couldn’t deny I’d been jealous while also relishing each story and vicariously living through her. Especially the story about the vampire named Augustus who made her orgasm every time he fed from her neck. A shiver coursed through me as I remembered how Ric’s purr had set me on fire. My sphinx shifter had been my Augustus. I wondered where he was now and if they were treating him well. I prayed Ethyl was right, and that the Tribunal wouldn’t kill him because he was an endangered species. Striga justice wasn’t justice at all. It was swift and cruel, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to help Ric, and he would die because I was just a divorced, over-40 nobody witch and not part of the Diablo Medici.

“I’m hungry.”

I looked up to see Des staring at us, his headphones in his hand, while he impatiently tapped his foot on the tile floor.

“Okay, baby.” I draped an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s find some food.” Maybe it would help ease the pounding in my skull.

I took his hand and Ethyl and Puffy followed us downstairs. Antonio was in the kitchen wielding the largest knife I’d ever seen while he prepared to cut into a string of salami and several kinds of cheese stacked on one another.

“Antonio,” I asked, “where’s the nearest restaurant?”

He frowned before slamming the knife down on the salami like a serial killer. “I cut you salami and cheese.”

Des tugged on my hand. “I want pizza.”

Antonio looked up at him with a scowl, pointing the tip of his blade at Des’s chest. “You like my salami and cheese.”

“Watch where you point that thing.” I instinctively pushed Des behind me while fingering the wand in my purse.

Antonio frowned at the blade, then at me.

“I want pizza,” Des murmured behind me.

Dragon balls! When my son got in his head he wanted something, there was no deterring him.

I squeezed his hand. “I know, baby. I’ll get you some pizza.” Squaring my shoulders I gave Antonio a stern look. “Where’s the nearest restaurant?”

Antonio frowned, dropping the knife as if it was a hot potato. “There are two around the corner.” He wagged a finger. “But two signorinas and child shouldn’t be out alone at night.”

“We’ll be fine,” I said as I pushed Des out of the kitchen.

“Okay,” Antonio called at our backs. “Be back in one hour.”

“We’ll do our best,” I called back as I pushed open the squeaky front door. “Thanks, Antonio.” I quickly shut the door, even though Antonio was still grumbling commands. Sheesh. What was he, our jailer?

I pulled Des down the cobblestone street, dimly lit with dull lamps overhead. Yeah, ancient, magical Rome was a little creepy at night. I could only imagine a succubus jumping from one of the alleyway shadows. I reminded myself I was an alpha witch. My magic was more powerful than most witches. No attacker would get past my defensive spells.

Once we emerged onto a much wider, much better lit street with a quaint little restaurant, I breathed a sigh of relief. The protestors had already dispersed, leaving behind wandering tourists like us, their mouths agape as they stared at the statues and souvenir shops. The air was mild enough that I could’ve gone without a jacket, but I felt safer beneath the selkie leather coat with its smooth silk interior, Colin’s last gift to me before I’d asked for a divorce. I’d been admiring it for weeks, and to my surprise, he’d bought it, despite its extravagant price tag. I realized much later that he’d probably been prompted to buy it out of guilt because he’d been secretly shagging his secretary. So now I had this nice leather coat, and she got the mansion, health insurance, farty breath, and premature ejaculation. Fair trade.

I shot Ethyl a look as she walked beside me, Puffy sitting perched on her shoulder. “You don’t think Antonio was acting a little weird?”

“Just overprotective.” She clasped her hands to her heart. “I think it’s sweet. He reminds me of my father.”

“You didn’t know your father,” I reminded her.

Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Well, if I had, he’d be like Antonio.”

“Selfie stick, signora ?”

I scowled down at the pygmy troll who looked too much like Gus as he held up a selfie stick, one of the many he had hanging in a sling across his back like a quiver and arrows.

“No. No selfie stick.” Especially not from the troll who had the audacity to call me signora .

The troll had the nerve to follow us as he whipped out a t-shirt that said ‘Magical Roma’ on the front. “Souvenir shirt, signora ?”

Ugh. I reached into my purse and squeezed my wand. “No. Not a damn thing,” I growled.

The troll’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he stuck out his tongue.

Ignoring him, I pulled Des along as we crossed the street to the restaurant.

I ordered Des’s pizza, gluten-free crust with three olives on each slice. The waiter looked at me like I was crazy, but he nodded his agreement and then took the rest of our orders before disappearing. I mentally calculated how much money I had left over from Ric’s vault while looking over the menu prices, but they were all in Italian. Ugh. I hoped I didn’t max out my credit card on this trip.

Just as I’d feared, the pizza olives weren’t arranged properly. Des sucked in a breath when he saw it, but Ethyl and I quickly rearranged the olives to his liking, and he happily ate his pizza without complaints. The seafood linguini was the best I’d ever eaten, and the buttery, parmesan sauce was sublime. Goddess, I could get used to eating authentic Italian food.

I’d been hoping the food and glass of wine would ease my headache, but if anything it was worse. Not even a migraine spell worked, though my healing spells worked better on others than they did on myself. It wasn’t like I could ask Ethyl to conduct the spell. With my luck, she’d make my head three times the size. So I suffered in silence, hoping a hot shower and a good sleep would cure it.

Afterward, we bought gelatos and walked around the square, window shopping while also avoiding the multitude of pygmy trolls selling selfie sticks. Most everyone’s auras were on full display except for Des and me, whose auras were barely visible thanks to my masking spell. Ethyl’s aura was bright for a witch who was always mixing up her spells. As usual, Des and I got our fair share of funny looks and snide comments. I didn’t care. Our auras could’ve eclipsed theirs.

Puffy perched on Des’s shoulder, pretending to be coy while stealing licks from his cone. I would’ve been annoyed, except Puffy entertained Des and always found a way of getting my son to come out of his shell. Besides, my migraine had eased up, so I was in a better mood. Perhaps I just needed a bit of food and relaxation. I kept checking my phone, very aware that we were close to going over an hour, though I shouldn’t have cared about Antonio’s curfew. I was starting to regret staying at his place. I honestly didn’t think sharing a bathroom with satyrs was much better than staying in a gnome-infested hostel. I’d gladly trade gnome droppings for goat pubes.

“So what’s our plan?” Ethyl asked before taking a long lick of her ice cream cone. I noted how between each lick she sent coy looks to a group of rough-looking wolf-shifters with faint auras who were loitering on the corner.

I grabbed her shoulder and faced her away from the shifters, forcing her to stare into a souvenir shop’s display of shrunken skeleton heads, phallic-shaped crystals, and chocolate. Yeah, we witches were weird. Des was sitting on a nearby bench with Puffy. The dragon now had complete possession of Des’s gelato, smearing the confection between his paws while dripping half of the gelato on his round belly.

“I guess I’ll go to the Tribunal tomorrow and make an appeal,” I answered.

She looked over her shoulder, then spoke in a hushed whisper. “You can’t just walk into the Tribunal.”

“I know that,” I said while keeping one eye on my son, “but I’m sure there’s a way to request an appointment.”

“Maybe Antonio knows how to find it,” she said.

“No.” Alarm bells went off in my head at the mention of our host’s name, and I couldn’t shake a foreboding feeling that we shouldn’t trust him. “We don’t want him to know our business.”

“I have a friend who works at the Tribunal,” she said with a smile as one of the wolf-shifters broke from the pack and approached us. “Tomorrow, I’ll see if I can pull some strings.”

“Thank you, Ethyl,” I said, grabbing my friend’s hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Then I turned to the shifter and whispered a repulsion spell just as he reached our sidewalk.

He gave Ethyl a disgusted look and spun on his heel, marching back toward his friends.

Ethyl let out a gasp of indignation, then shook her head. “I’m worried about you, Luci.” She squeezed my hand. “Going up against a succubus is dangerous.”

“I have no choice.” My shoulders fell with the admission. “The succubus is already after me.” Emotion tightened my throat. “Listen, if you want to return home, I understand.”

“Are you kidding?” She arched back, looking at me as if I’d insulted her. “And leave you and Des to fend for yourselves in Italy?”

Too choked up to speak, I wrapped my arm around her as we walked toward Des. I held a hand down to him, and the three of us walked back toward Antonio’s.

No sooner had we turned the corner down the alleyway that led to his house than I heard footsteps echo behind us. I looked over my shoulder to see two hooded figures gaining on us, their heads hung low, their hands jutted in their pockets.

Ethyl tensed beside me. “Do you see them?”

I nodded as I reached into my purse and clutched my wand. “Hang on.”

Ethyl stumbled when they let out a sharp whistle. “Maybe we should see what they want,” she suggested.

“Are you crazy?” I hissed, a chill sweeping up my spine. I knew to listen to my gut as they closed the distance between us. I whispered an invisibility spell, securing us in a translucent cocoon that shielded us from their view. The strangers swore, spinning around while looking for us. I knew they’d been following us, but why?

Once we reached the safety of the walls of Antonio’s yard, I quietly closed the latch on the gate and then breathed a sigh of relief. I whispered a spell to remove the invisibility bubble while sharing a knowing look with Ethyl. Des was serenely smiling, scratching Puffy’s chin. He had no idea we’d been so close to danger. No wonder Antonio didn’t want us going out. I wondered if those hooded figures were pickpockets, or if they were following us for a more sinister reason.