The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) (14 page)

When he finally made his way to her, he held out his hand, the perfectly even skin of his fingers wrapping around hers, causing Poppy to literally fight a shiver—a violent shiver.

Huh.

Gone was the warmth and in its place was a chilled sense of dread.

“Charming to meet you, Poppy.”

Her eyes met his green ones. No. No, it wasn’t charming to meet her at all. His mouth said it was, but his eyes said something entirely different.

Shrugging off the ugly vibe, and giving him her best movie-star smile, Poppy said, “You too. It’s nice to attach a name to a face.”

“Have you known Rick long? How have we missed meeting each other? How did I miss meeting someone as utterly bedazzling as you?”

She stared back at him, watching the wheels of his mind turn, feeling the strangest vibration course through her once more. “Nope. We’ve known each other just a day.”

Driving his hand into the pocket of his sharply tailored trousers, he asked, “So how did you meet my chap Rick?”

“Magic,” she replied, keeping her answer purposefully mysterious.

He cocked his head, making the fall of his thatch of blond hair sweep over his forehead. “Magic?”

Straightening her spine just like she’d been taught in all those years of ballet class, Poppy took on a haughty air, pretending she was someone important, like royalty. That always helped her when she felt uncomfortable, and she definitely felt discomfort.

“I’m his new familiar.”

A flicker of confusion, brief as it was, flashed in his green eyes before a smile spread across his lean face. “A new familiar? How smashing! I’m thrilled for him! Especially seeing as he lucked out with one who’s so pretty.”

Leaning back against the counter, Poppy nodded. “That’s good to hear. I have so much to learn about him, so I’ll be around a lot. It’s nice to know someone as close to Rick as you are is easy to get along with.”

As she spoke the words, she heard the pitch of her voice, noted it held a slight threatening tone, but she didn’t understand why.

Rick nudged Avis and pointed to the end of the warehouse where his office was. “We need to get some stuff done. Quit flirting with the lady and let’s do this.”

Avis nodded his head, his expression teasing and bright. “Right. Sorry. I was all caught up in hearing about how you have a new familiar. Oh, the secrets you keep, friend.”

Rick laughed as he grabbed a briefcase from a shelf by the front door and headed toward the end of the house. “I just bet you were, buddy. Told ya, I’ll explain that. Move it, Mackland.”

Backing away, Avis kept the smile on his face. “Anyway, such a delight to meet you, Poppy. I must go feed my workaholic beast, but I hope we get the chance to chat again soon.”

Without thought, without filter, Poppy responded, “Count on it.”

And as she watched his broad back, almost as broad as Rick’s, turn to a pinpoint of color before he rounded the only corner in the warehouse, she discovered she’d been holding in another violent shiver.

Chills assaulted her skin, goose bumps running the length of her arms and along the back of her neck, making her hair stand on end.

Avis Mackland wasn’t pleased to meet her. He didn’t want to chat with her again. He’d be happy if she fell off the face of the earth.

She knew this. Knew it as certainly as she knew how to tie her shoes.

Avis Mackland was a snake. A total and complete snake with a cultured British accent, and his best friend, Rick, his business partner, his roommate in college, hadn’t a single clue.

Pip pip and cheerio.

“
S
o, jolly good show, brother! Way to score!” Avis congratulated him once they were in the privacy of Rick’s office.

He sighed, dropping into his office chair. Avis was nothing if he wasn’t a player. He loved women. Rick couldn’t fault him for that. He loved women, too. He just didn’t love them in multiples, or behind their backs while he loved someone else.

Avis played the field more than the entire NFL. And that was fine by Rick. As long as he showed up to work and kept making them money and he kept his drama off their work field, Rick kept his mouth shut.

Grabbing a pen, he flicked the top of it over and over. “She’s not a score, pal. She’s my familiar. A familiar I don’t want, but who’s here whether I like it or not.”

Avis scoffed. “Then I’ll take her off your hands. She’s got a bottom like a round—”

“Knock it off, Mackland,” Rick warned, his tone serious. He was never fond of how Avis objectified women, and he’d said as much on many occasions. But Poppy was different. He’d like to chalk that up to the fact that she was his familiar, but the protective side of him railed against the notion. “She’s not a piece of meat. There’s some respect due here. And you already have a familiar. You don’t need another one.”

“Hah!” Avis barked. “You mean I have someone who’s always lagered up and makes an appearance maybe twice a year? I don’t even know where the living hell Judith is right now—haven’t seen her since last spring.”

“Lucky you,” he muttered, staring at his jacked-up wrist.

“So how are you going to handle this, old chum? You know damn well the PTB will sprout moths out of their dusty arses for days if you complain.”

He did know that. He’d been ready to risk that until he’d spent some time with Poppy today. He liked her spunk. He liked how much she cared about the people over at Littleton. He liked that she wanted to pay Mr. Rush back no matter what it took.

He liked her…her aura, and he hated to admit as much. He’d been so defensive when she’d been thrust upon him with no warning; he really had been an asshole.

And she’d told him so. He liked that, too.

“Still not sure how I’m going to handle it. She’s no Yash, that’s for sure.” Though today, she’d reminded him of his familiar, made that tug in his gut burn with awareness.

Avis slid into the chair opposite his desk with a chuckle. “Damn right, she’s no Yash. She has a helluva lot more hair and her legs are perfection. No comparison t’all.”

Looking his partner directly in the eye, Rick narrowed his glare, leveling it at Avis. “I said lay off the comments about her body.”

Avis threw up his hands as white flags. “Chill, brother. I was simply joking. But how about you tell me what she did to your body? I smell magic of some kind or another, though it’s quite strange.”

Strange was an understatement. But Calamity was correct. He absolutely did feel the connection to Poppy. He wasn’t sure the connection wasn’t muddied with other feelings, but they had connected when she’d blown the lights out in his kitchen and when she’d turned him to stone.

Which was actually kind of funny.

So Rick shrugged. He wasn’t ready to be completely open about what was going on inside him just yet. “We had a bit of a collision over at Littleton. Can’t exactly explain it other than it was pretty bizarre.”

“Littleton? She was at Littleton with you?”

“Well, yeah. She’s my familiar, remember? We’re in the getting-to-know-you phase.”

Avis leaned back in the chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. “And how do you feel about her replacing Yash?”

“I don’t feel anything about Yash. Yash was a dirty son of a bitch.” He ground the words out, even if he really did feel something about his disappearing familiar. Utter and complete betrayal—a desolation so deep, it still stung.

“You have to let go, friend. Especially the talk of despising your magic.”

“I don’t despise my magic, Avis. I just don’t want it used in my everyday life. We can’t meld with humans, do business with them on a day-to-day basis, if we’re casting spells on them, forcing them to do our bidding. It’s not right.”

Avis rolled his eyes. “A little magic never hurt anyone,” he drawled, snapping his fingers and making a waterfall appear in the corner of the office, the sparkling gush of fluid spilling out over his floor.

“You know it’s not my bag, buddy. Our magic is weak compared to our female counterparts. It’s rare to find a warlock who can do more than some stupid card tricks or make waterfalls appear anyway, and you know it. We’re the lesser of the two genders. But let’s not forget, magic can wreak all sorts of havoc in your life.”

Avis shot him a sympathetic look. “And it killed your mother. I know the story, friend. I understand your reasoning.”

The reminder of his mother, Delfina, stung. Yes. Magic had killed his mother, and Yash had picked up the pieces of that broken little boy, sewn him back together again, raised him with all sorts of wise words and mother-of-the-earth intentions—and then duped him.

Never again.

“Give the old bloke a break, would you? I still say something happened, chap. I daresay no magic on earth, no matter how powerful, could have torn that man from your side. He was bloody attached to your hip like some sort of Siamese twin.”

Rick held up a hand. He wanted to thwart the onslaught of defenses Avis had cooked up in his mind on Yash’s behalf. No matter what the case was, no matter how Yash had disappeared, he’d still stolen money from their company.

“Don’t bother to defend. We’ve been down this road, and it has the same conclusion. We lost an assload of money because of Yash. End story. Now, onto other, more pressing matters, like Littleton. Did you have any idea the person listed as 7E’s occupant was incorrect?”

Avis’s head popped up from scrolling his phone. “Say again?”

Sifting through the papers on his desk, he dug through them, separating them by date. “Yeah. We have a Lennox Griffith listed, but it’s actually Poppy who lives there.”

Avis gazed at him from his seat in the chair. “Poppy? What an incredible coincidence.”

As Rick explained the events of the day, he found himself almost a little too exuberant when referring to Poppy, making him firmly clamp his lips together.

He wasn’t ready to like her just yet.

* * * *

“S’up, Stone-Maker,” Calamity chirped as Poppy unpacked her clothes and began putting them into the armoire, tucked away in the corner of her new bedroom.

She let the joke go in favor of the distraction from her thoughts. “Just thinking.”

“About?” Marty asked, poking her head around the corner of the room.

She shook her head, wiping her hands on the thighs of her favorite pair of ripped blue jeans before she sat next to Wanda on the edge of the bed. “Not sure I can articulate just yet.”

She wanted to be sure she had her ducks in a row before she came out swinging. Yet, the longer she thought about Avis, the more she recalled the terrifying vibe he’d sent out, the more she wanted to confide in someone. She just wanted the words to be right.

“I fucking hope you’re thinking about doing more magic tricks because I’m here to tell ya, you’re GD awesome,” Nina said on a snort, positioning herself against the wall opposite the bed.

Carl wandered into the room, cocking his head to indicate he’d like to sit next to her. She patted the surface and smiled as he scrunched in between her and Wanda.

Thumping her thigh, he murmured, “Like you,” and followed up with his adorably crooked grin.

Poppy grinned back, hooking her hand through the crook of his arm. “That’s so nice to hear, Carl. I like you, too.”

“So what’s going on in that brain of yours, Poppy? Talk to us,” Wanda encouraged, licking the tips of her fingers before passing a bag of chips.

She grabbed one and nibbled at it, trying to define what she was feeling without sounding like some crazy alarmist. “Something just feels off. It’s the best way to describe it. Totally off. I can’t explain it, I have no reason for it, it’s just wrong.”

Calamity settled onto Carl’s lap, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “That’s just you adjusting to being a familiar. It happens all the time. We all go through highs and lows while we get used to our assignments, Poppy-Seed. I think the powers that be forget we each had lives apart from one another. They just throw us the eff together and expect us to get each other. Just because the fates say we should be paired, doesn’t damn well mean we’ll totally understand every foible and bad habit. Maybe when all this is done, I’ll lobby for some reform.”

Sure, that could be the case. Who was she to say what one felt when they were turned into a familiar? Maybe the rush of instincts and emotions had something to do with how off she felt. But that just didn’t sit right. “Maybe,” she answered, grabbing a handful of chips.

“I daresay, if you spoil the fantastic meal I’m making out in that wee kitchen for your welcome-to-the-fold dinner, I shall reserve the right to clock you in your lovely head,” Archibald scolded with a teasing grin.

She loved his gently aged face, the crisp black suit he wore with a smartly tied silver ascot. She loved that he was no-questions-asked inclusive. At a time when she was feeling pretty alone, missing her family, unsure how to call them and explain all that had happened, they were filling a need in her like no other.

Pressing a hand to her throat, she affected her best southern accent. “You’re making
me
dinner? Whatever did I do to deserve such kindness, sir?”

Throwing a dishtowel over his shoulder, Arch raised a jaunty eyebrow. “Frankly m’dear, I don’t give a damn!”

Nina slapped him on the back, dropped a kiss on his shiny head and said, “Worst accent ever, Arch,” as everyone laughed.

But Arch swatted her with his towel and grinned as he looked to Poppy. “Are we inviting Master Delassantos to our feast? Have we given him the thumbs-up yet or are we reserving judgment? The texts I received from Miss Nina about him were anything but kind.”

“Of course we’re inviting him,” Marty declared with a chuckle. “He’s part of the family now whether he damn well likes it or not. And trust me, he’s already warming to you, Poppy-Seed. By week’s end, he’ll be all over this familiar thing. Mark my words.”

Yeah, and she had one week to show him what being part of the family was about by telling him she thought his best friend and partner was a bad, bad dude.

“Or all over
her
,” Calamity teased. “Seen the way he looks at her unfairly perky rear-end? Phew. Can’t believe you didn’t catch fire yet, Pops.”