“Why are you here again?” Samantha asked for the sixth time that day as she glared at the slender woman bustling through her kitchen like it was hers. From before dawn, she’d been bringing all kinds of things into the house from a large van. Boxes, plastic containers, satchels with who knew what.
With a smirk, Lilith halted at the counter where she cluttered everything up. “I’ve told you. Preparations for Nox Night.”
“And I’ve told you, I don’t know what that means.”
Lilith paused mid-moving a large casserole dish. “It’s our favourite holiday. We eat good food, count falling stars, and drink a special ale. Now that you’re part of our world, prepare to celebrate this for many years to come.”
“Good food,” Samantha repeated, gesturing to the dish in Lilith’s hands. “You’re going to cook? You?”
“Don’t be silly.” Lilith bent down to speak to the greyish hellhound following her around. “Your Warden is so silly, Demon Bite. Yes, she is. Yes, she is.” After giving Shadow a little scratch between her ears, she turned back to Sam. ”You’re cooking.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you’re the host. This is your house, isn’t it?”
Samantha snorted. “So you do know this is my house. Why do we have to do it here? Isn’t there anywhere else you can celebrate this?”
The other woman remained silent for a moment or two as she put the lid back on the dish. “No.”
“Oh.” Samantha cast her eyes down and while she still wasn’t on board with the hostile takeover of her house, she stopped complaining. There really wasn’t any point. If Lilith wanted something, Lilith would find a way to get it.
She settled on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter and watched the other woman unpack the cardboard boxes she brought. More cooking ware, which would come in handy since her ex-wife took most of it, all kinds of fairy lights, and more bottles with the special ale than Samantha could count.
“That’s a lot of beer for just the two of us.” She grabbed one of the bottles to inspect the orange-blue label. It had some weird symbols on it and a vegetable that looked like a turnip or a carrot. She didn’t recognise the brand but she didn’t expect to either. “It is just going to be the two of us, right?”
“Umm…” Lilith paused and shot her a hesitant smile. “What answer are you looking for here?”
“The truth?”
“Right… So there might be some more people coming.”
“Why couldn’t you have it at your family mansion?”
“Because… This is a Nox holiday, not just a Will-O-Wisp day. It has to be on neutral ground, like… A Warden’s home. It may be a day of peace and we all agree to a truce, but I’m not inviting Vampires or Moon Hares to my home.”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “No, only to mine.”
“Exactly. Even as a Warden to our clan, your house is neutral ground. Now let’s get prepping. We have lots of work to do.”
“You’re so bossy.”
“You should be used to it by now.” Lilith pressed a large ladle into Sam’s hand. “It’s tradition for the host to start the base for the Night Soup.”
“Now? I thought you said Nox Night was next week.”
“Yes, but the base needs time to age. To soak up the atmosphere of your home.”
“Sounds delicious,” Sam replied sarcastically. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Sweat off some onions in oil or butter. Have you never made soup before?”
“Well, yes, but—” Samantha stopped protesting, realising it was no use. From everything she knew about the Nox world, she’d expected the Night Soup to be anything but a real soup. Of course, she realised how silly that sounded so she just decided to stay quiet and grab a couple of onions from under the sink. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been there but the brittle peel came off easily and there were no soft spots or patches of blue mould. She called that a win.
Shadow bounced through the kitchen so she could sniff the bulb in Samantha’s hand and pulled up her nose once she realised it wasn’t for her. With a disappointed glare, she retreated back to where Lilith was standing and curled around her foot.
“Traitor,” Samantha muttered softly at the hellhound. She reached for a knife and halved the onion, crinkling her eyes from the potent juice and smell. No matter how hard she tried to cut the onion in nice slices, most came out uneven. Her freezer full of ready meals wasn’t exactly a testament to her experience. Even so, she wasn’t going to admit that to Lilith.
Determined, she grabbed the biggest pot she had, whacked a good glug of oil in, and threw the onions into the sizzling pan.
“Now what?” Sam asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“Let them go translucent, then we’ll throw in some chicken stock and that’s that for now.”
“That’s a weird, bland soup.”
“It’s not done yet.”
“So what else is going into it?”
“I’m not telling you that. That would ruin the mystery, wouldn’t it?” Lilith teased.
Samantha rolled her eyes. “What is it with you and mystery? You’re not telling me what else is in the soup, you didn’t let me open that little chest they found while renovating the Drunken Turnip, all for the sake of “mystery”. I’ll tell you something, mystery is overrated.”
“That was a lot of mysteries.”
“When did you become the grammar police?”
“When you retired.” Lilith stuck out her tongue and shot a rubber band at Sam.
“You’re so childish.”
“You’re the one that wants to know what’s in the chest.”
“I do. You can’t just claim treasure without letting me look.”
“I’m surprised you even believe in treasure.”
“What’s not to believe in?”
“When we met, you didn’t believe in Fae or magic. You thought none of it was real.”
“That’s different.”
“Says you.”
Samantha knew better than to argue with Lilith and decided to stir the onions before they all went black. The oil hissed at her and a waft of steam rose up into her face. A delicious savoury smell that immediately turned the empty kitchen into the heart of the house. Sam couldn’t remember the last time it had smelled like a home. Even if she couldn’t pinpoint when, it had been long before she and Melissa had their divorce.
As she stirred the onions, Lilith finished unpacked her boxes and joined Sam at the hob. She leaned in and inhaled deeply. “Mmm… I love that smell.”
Sam gulped, realising just how close the other woman was standing next to her. Eyes closed, making appreciative noises, even if she didn’t intend to put dangerous thoughts in Sam’s head, she was.
Before she did something stupid, Sam quickly dove down, pretending to look for something in the bare cupboards.
“You okay there?” Lilith asked, looking at her with a confused look in her eyes.
“Yes, just looking for…” Sam muttered, frantically rummaging through the drawer of cutlery. Melissa had been so gracious to leave her some forks and spoons, so she grabbed the nearest one and held it up. “A spoon! For tasting,” she added, when the other woman’s frown didn’t clear up.
“Sure… It’s just onions?”
“Yes, but just to make sure,” Samantha insisted, hoping she successfully covered up how flustered she was feeling. She dipped the spoon into the pan and fished out a couple of half-raw onions. While the oil had softened them slightly, they were still a bit crunchy. She gulped. “Hmm. Tasty.”
Lilith snickered. “You don’t cook often, do you?”
Sam lowered her spoon. “Is it that obvious?”
“Painfully so.” She lowered the heat and put the lid on the pot.
“So now that’s done… you should let me open that chest. Who knows what’s in it. It could be a listening device, or a bomb, or a vial of poison ready to explode at any moment.”
“Wow. And here I thought you didn’t have any imagination.”
“If you spend enough time in the force you learn to be suspicious of strange packages. One time, my partner received an envelope with hair, enough for a wig. There was a note that said: “wear me.”. Turns out, the hair was from a recent murder victim. After that, you get really careful when opening parcels.”
With a groan, Lilith nodded. “Fine, I’ll let you open the chest. But don’t blame me if you’re disappointed and it’s just boring crap.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”