We were all dragging butt as we climbed out of my car and headed into my house. Even though we’d realized that Alma Sanchez was a miserable excuse for a human being, we hadn’t quite figured out how to tell my powers. They'd followed her around town with me, yet not a thing had happened on my powers' part to even the score. If the day of the full moon came, and my powers were still saying she deserved them, and if I didn’t comply, there would be dire consequences. What could I do?
The second I opened the door the overwhelming scent of cooking food hit me. Oh, Daniel. What an angel. My wonderful new live-in boyfriend had made dinner.
I'd already known it, but here was further proof there were more benefits to him living with me than the good, hot time in the sack. A benefit that started with good food after a long day, whether he was entirely moved in or not yet.
Dropping my bag on the table by the door, I kicked off my shoes with a groan, and the ladies followed suit. We slumped through the living room and headed toward the kitchen without a word. There was Daniel in a tight t-shirt that hugged his incredible muscles. His messy hair hung over a focused face as he stirred a pan of sauce.
“You must be a fantasy,” I told him.
He jumped as if he'd been so focused on his sauce that he hadn’t heard us traipsing in like a group of exhausted buffalos. “I made spaghetti. I figured the ladies would join us, but I wasn’t sure exactly how much to make.”
Coming up behind him, I hugged him, then looked at the army-sized pot of cooking spaghetti. I had to hold back a laugh and take a second to get my mirth under control before I managed. “It looks like more than enough.”
He looked relieved. “Good, because Alice and Henry are here too, and it’s been a while since I cooked for this many people. I mean, I’ve done this recipe before, it’s my mom’s, but not when I wasn’t sure how many people wanted to eat.”
“Daniel,” I told him, amused. “It’ll be fine. It'll be perfect."
He smiled. “Okay, then, you guys sit at the table. I’ll bring it over.”
Exhausted and more than willing to be bossed around, we did as he said, dragging chairs from all over and squeezing them in together before collapsing into them. Daniel carried over a pile of plates, napkins, and forks. We passed them around, silent and tired. I moaned in delight as Daniel came by and plopped a giant’s portion of spaghetti onto each of our plates, including one for himself, Alice, and Henry. The ladies glanced at me, their expressions saying, “Do we have to eat this much?”
I nodded my head. "Eat up."
“Alice, Henry dinner!” I shouted as loudly as I could, which wasn't very loud right now.
One great thing about this house was the insulation and size. We rarely bothered each other with noise. Unfortunately, it meant I usually had to move my tired butt across the house for stuff like this.
It must have been my lucky day though because Alice and Henry appeared at the end of the hall.
“Food,” I said, pointing to the plates.
Henry stared. “Did you make it?”
I snorted. Everyone knew I wasn’t a great cook, but I didn’t much care for the reminder. “Nope. Daniel.”
“You sure?” he asked, eyeing the spaghetti.
“I’m sure,” I said, trying not to sound offended.
“Because you’re an awful cook,” Henry continued.
“I’m aware,” I told him dryly.
“Just awful,” he whispered, then looked at Alice. “It’s like she’s cooking to punish you, but you don’t know what you did to deserve it.”
Deva snorted under her breath, while Beth hid her face behind her napkin. Both of their shoulders shook, giving them away, while Carol looked out the window really hard. Some friends I had. If they weren't careful, I was going to cook a whole meal for them and watch them while they ate every last bite.
“Like liquid death. I mean, I’m pretty sure things have been made in labs that taste better than—”
“Henry,” Alice said, her voice firm. “This is one of those situations where you ask the question, get the answer, and then shut up. Otherwise, you’re hurting your sister’s feelings.”
Henry stared deadpan at her. “I needed you to understand that if she cooked this food, it was going to be bad.”
Alice lifted a brow. “I got that. Now, let’s sit and eat. This topic has run its course.”
His expression said he was relieved she understood that my cooking was liquid death, as he'd so eloquently put it. They took their spots while Daniel reappeared to dollop sauce on each of our giant piles of spaghetti. Returning to the kitchen, he returned one more time with parmesan cheese. We passed it around, sprinkled it on top of our food, and dug in.
Henry tried his and groaned. “This is definitely not cooked by Emma. I bet she wasn’t even in the kitchen.” He snorted. "Or the house."
Alice nudged him with her shoulder. “Social cue.”
My brother stiffened. “I mean, this is good. Nothing about Emma being an awful cook.”
She nudged him again, and he closed his mouth.
I laughed and shook my head. One of the benefits of having a brother with autism was that I knew exactly what he thought. Sometimes it was a disadvantage, too. Still, I preferred him exactly as he was, liquid death and all.
“Have as much as you want,” Daniel said as he sat with us. “There’s room for seconds and even thirds.” The whole table glanced between their giant plates of food and Daniel. He blushed. “I've never known how much spaghetti to make. It's either not enough or feed an entire army.
Everyone laughed because that was kind of how it was when it came to spaghetti. We all related. There was always too much, no matter how closely the recipe was followed.
Conversation filled the room as we ate, enjoying the amazing pasta. Daniel might not have been able to weave magic into his cooking like Deva, but it certainly tasted as though he could've. Within minutes of our first bites, everyone relaxed, and laughter flowed as much as the conversation itself.
Daniel leaned in close to me. “I moved a lot of bags into your room today. Everything I need, at least for a while, to officially move in.”
I grinned and kissed him. “Perfect.”
"Did the house next door sell?" Beth's question was said far too innocently.
I tried not to let the corners of my mouth tip in a smile as I said, "It did. To the man who we spoke with the other day, I'm pretty sure. Alice and Henry spoke with him at the mailbox this morning. The sellers accepted his offer."
Beth's expression was decidedly bland. There was something there and I looked forward to digging into it.
If I kept my friends. If they still wanted to be with me after I lost my powers.
The band on my chest tightened again. I was going to break into a million pieces if they left me.
Beth cleared her throat and looked directly at Deva. "How is Marquis?"
Deva nearly choked on her spaghetti. "We haven't seen nearly enough of one another. I've been too busy, and he's had patients."
"Mmhmm," Carol said. "You mean you've been playing doctor."
The table erupted in snorts and laughter.
“Emma,” Henry called my name, quieting the table. “What did you find out about losing your powers?”
My gaze sought out Alice, and I told them everything. It was best not to sugarcoat things with Henry.
He gave me an expression that told me he was feeling empathy for me. That wasn't easy for him. I was so proud of the man he'd become. My sweet baby brother.
Alice set her fork down. “I remember something about an older woman from my vision, but it’s not clear.” After a second, she ate again, but she seemed troubled.
Not half as troubled as I was. As much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, I was worried. All signs pointed to the fact that my magic was going to go to this woman on the night of the full moon, even though she wasn’t a nice person. I mean, I could refuse to do it, and see what the consequences might be, but magical consequences were usually pretty scary. If I didn't go, it might be worse.
The thing was, if I did lose my powers, I had no idea what I would do. I’d be useless in investigations with Beth. None of us would be connected by the supernatural any longer. I’d feel powerless in all ways. It was hard even imagining that life, but the thing was, I might have to experience it in just two days whether I want to or not.