26. Owen

Chapter twenty-six

Owen

D inner party, dinner party. Oh dinner, dinner, dinner. Dinner party. I kept humming the words to the tune of the song "Lollipop" the rest of the afternoon. I almost invited my bosses over, too, when I remembered how serious Cary had become when Damian invited him. It was a big deal to come into a wizard's home. Or was it domain? Maybe I was getting into this whole wizard and witch game now.

Regardless, I loved the home we'd established in such a short time, and I liked Molly. I also couldn't wait to see how Cary and Molly got along. I imagined it would either be amazing or the two would clash like lightning and water.

When Cary refrained, and yes, I realized now that's what this was, from dumping a bunch of paperwork on my desk, I met him out front after the partners left for the day. "Okay, you driving?" I asked.

Cary nodded, then told Mrs. Patterson we were leaving. I followed him to his car and climbed in. "Owen, you do realize how significant it is for him to invite me over? I know he does. He's the Legacy Wizard, but do you?"

"I do, I guess. I don't understand why it's such a big deal. Is it because you can now come visit anytime afterward?"

Cary laughed. "Honey, witches are the original Central Intelligence Agency. We can come and go undetected in almost any home, building, business, or other place as long as it's not warded to keep us out. By inviting me to his home, your sweetheart has made the statement that he trusts me implicitly."

"But you wouldn't come into our home uninvited, would you?"

"Not likely. A wizard is a powerful ally and a terrifying enemy. Not to mention, you have resident ghosts. You know how strange that is, don't you?"

"It's strange, but they are pretty awesome when you get to know them. I haven't gone into the basement yet, and I don't recommend anyone do, but the ones who come into our living space are kind and helpful. I sort of think of them as friends."

Cary shook his head. "You're as strange as him. The two of you belong together."

I smiled and winked at him. "I think you're right about that, or that's how it feels."

We chatted all the way to the house, and I showed him the little alcove in front of the fence where he could park and not get a ticket for blocking a sidewalk. Luckily, whoever added the fence likely did so in anticipation of a need for a place for people to park while still protecting the perimeter.

We reached the gate, and Cary stopped just outside. "I'm, it's not open to me," he said.

"Damian," I called quietly so as not to sound like I was yelling at him. He appeared a moment later at the front door and waved his hand when he saw Cary standing there. Cary nodded and stepped through the gate. A bluish light activated around the gate as he walked through. I watched transfixed as that light then radiated around him, before it encompassed the entire property.

Cary winked at me when I turned back toward Damian. "One down, one to go," he said, and we walked toward the front door together. This time, Damian shook Cary's hand but didn't let go. Instead, he pulled him through the door. A pop sounded as Cary walked through.

"That one hurt a little," Cary said, rubbing his arms.

"Better safe than sorry. Wouldn't you agree?" Damian asked, and Cary nodded.

"Indee—" He stopped before he got the word out. In front of us stood not just Orville, Alice, and Emma, but four other ghosts I'd never seen before. The other four were huge and slightly obscured from view.

Orville stepped forward, regarding Cary. "Why should we allow you in, witch? What guarantee do we have that you aren't up to no good?"

"Orville," Damian said, but the ghost ignored him .

Cary shook his head and, under his breath, said what sounded like "Ghosts."

He reached up, pulled a necklace off, and handed it to Orville. "This is the only thing I have to demonstrate my intentions."

I'd never seen Orville take something from the living, not me or Damian, but he took the necklace and held it away from him like it was a soiled baby's diaper. He disappeared through the back wall, and several tense moments passed before he returned without the necklace.

"You may stay within this area, the entry, dining room, kitchen, and parlor." He motioned toward the closed door to his right. "And, as Master Damian has requested, the powder room, but know this, you are being watched and will be watched the entire time you are here. If you try anything to harm the residents of this home, we will destroy you!"

"Orville," Damian chastised again, but Cary just shook his head. "Your warning is understood. I promise to stay within my boundaries."

I almost expected him to joke about ghosts watching him pee, but he didn't move until all the ghosts dispersed.

"That went better than expected," Cary said.

I didn't expect all the ghosts to leave, but I could feel as much as see they were all gone. Even Orville had left us alone.

"What's that all about?" I asked.

Cary didn't respond, so I looked toward Damian. "I'm just understanding," he said, glancing at Cary. "But let's just say witches and ghosts have a tenuous relationship, and," he said, giving me a very stern eye, "let's leave it at that."

Cary nodded. "At least the parts of your home I can see are lovely. Tell me, who did your design?" he asked and laughed, clearly knowing the décor had happened magically.

Molly showed up shortly after the big standoff, and I was happy she'd missed it. I didn't know her well, but I did know she wanted to understand the magical world more than she did. Too bad she couldn't find out about her best friend being one of the world's most powerful wizards.

Cary and Molly circled each other for about half an hour, but they'd found common ground by the time the pizza arrived. Of course, that common ground was some food truck, tarot card, mystic event thing that apparently drives around Seattle popping up in obscure yet fun areas.

I wondered how Molly would feel to find out Cary really was what she and her friends professed to be. I also wondered how she'd feel knowing the ghosts here thought of her the same way she and Cary did about fake fortune tellers.

I'd never tell; that was for sure. We moved things over to the parlor, which, to be honest, was a little odd since I rarely ever used it. The ghosts tended to keep that part of the house shut off. When Damian spent time down there, and not in his room in the attic, he did so in the music room or library, which, as far as I was concerned, was the most comfortable room in the house, although I probably felt that way because it was mostly my stuff in there .

Damian, when alone, usually hung out in the living room equivalent of the second floor, and I knew when he was there, he wanted to be alone. He didn't even have to tell me. I just understood.

We were getting along perfectly for two people who'd been virtual strangers just a short time ago.

Would that last? I wondered. Damian reached over and squeezed my hand, making my heart fill with happiness. Cary instantly noticed and began making excuses to leave. "Thank you, Damian, and of course, Owen," he said and turned to me, although I knew it was more for Damian's sake, "for inviting me over tonight. I won't forget the honor of it."

Molly seemed perplexed for a moment, then stood. "I'll follow you out. I'll just call for a taxi. Now that my free ride is gone," she said but smiled at Damian.

"Why don't you let me be your taxi bootie call tonight," Cary said, and Molly laughed.

"Ugh, if only you were at least a little straight, that might be offensive. Although tempting," Molly said and laughed as Cary all but pulled her out of the house.

"Bye, honeys," Cary said once he got past the gate.

"Bye-bye," Molly called, and Damian and I stood on the front porch laughing as they left.

When we went back in, the ghosts were still nowhere to be seen. "We should probably go on up. I'm guessing they won't be coming out again tonight. "

"Mind explaining why?" I asked. Damian shook his head and led the way up to the attic. Once there, he sat on the chair beside his desk and pulled off his socks.

"I didn't quite get it until Orville and the others confronted Cary. History isn't one of the things my gift shares readily. Apparently, witches and ghosts are bitter enemies. Of course, I didn't know that when I invited Cary over."

"Enemies?" I asked.

"Something to do with an ancient sorcerer. He used spirits to his own end, and the witches, unable to defeat him, began forcing ghosts to cross the veil. That's a practice they still do, even though the old sorcerer was long ago defeated."

"Aah, and ghosts don't necessarily like being forced to move on before they're ready."

"That's what I gathered from my insight."

I stared at him and sighed. "I don't understand all this. It seems so strange sometimes. Do you just know things?"

Damian shrugged. "I do. It was strange at first, but I've learned to just go with the flow. Now, how about going with this flow?" he asked, unbuttoning my shirt.

"Oh yeah, this is the kind of flow I'm all about," I purred.