I went to flick him away, and he darted to the ceiling, a trail of silver dust drifting down like a ribbon of thought he’d left behind. At the window a cluster of his kids were giggling. Flustered, I closed my curtains. Rex, drawn by the sound of Jenks’s voice, padded in from who knew where, settling herself in my threshold with her tail curled about her feet and her eyes on Jenks. The pixy had landed on Nick’s file, now shoved in among my perfume bottles, and I hoped the idiotic cat wouldn’t jump up there after him. I felt a slow buildup of a tickle in my nose, and I scrambled for a tissue, startling Rex into skittering out to the hall when I sneezed.
Looking over my tissue, I watched Jenks’s head go back and forth. “It’s a nice outfit,” I protested. “And I didn’t buy it for Trent, I bought it for my birthday date with Kisten.” I touched the beaded sleeve again, feeling melancholy. So I liked to dress up. So what? But maybe…maybe my image could use a little more class and a little less party girl.
Snorting, Jenks gave me a long, knowing look. “Sure you did, Rache.”
Bothered, I turned off the light and headed into the kitchen, scooping up the two bags of tomato stuff for Glenn that I had left in the hall. Still laughing, Jenks followed, landing on my shoulder in a show of apology.
“You know,” he said, and I could hear the smile on his face in his tone, “I think you should wear that dress to the rehearsal. It will cheese off that witch of a woman.”
“Sure,” I said, starting to get depressed. I’d wait until Ivy came home, then ask her. What did Jenks know? He was a pixy, for God’s sake.
I elbowed the rocker switch as I entered the kitchen, all but tripping on Rex when she darted between my feet. The ungraceful motion turned into a sneeze. I felt it coming but didn’t have time to warn Jenks. He was catapulted off, and, swearing, he went to the window.
“Sorry,” I said when he lit next to his sea monkeys. According to my mother, it was bad luck to sneeze between rooms, but it was Jenks’s questioning look that had me worried.
Wincing, I looked at Rex, her cute little kitten face turned up as she sat before the sink and gazed lovingly up at her four-inch master. Jenks followed my attention to her, and when I set the bags down to wipe my nose, his wings stilled in understanding. I had been sneezing off and on since yesterday. Crap, there are charms for it, but I don’t want to be allergic to cats.
“I’m not allergic to cats,” I said, wrapping one arm around my middle. “Rex has been here for the past two months, and this is the first time it’s been a problem.”
“Okay,” he said softly, but his wings weren’t moving when he turned his back on me to wrestle with the vial of sea-monkey food.
It was too quiet in here. I wanted to turn on some music, but the stereo was in the sanctuary, and to crank it loud enough to be able to enjoy it in the kitchen would bother the neighbors. Working up a really good pity party, I pulled out one of my newest spell books and set it thumping on the center island counter. Sneezing, I thought, hunched as I thumbed through the index. I wasn’t allergic to cats. My dad had been, but I wasn’t.
The only spell in the book that had to do with sneezing was one for cat allergies, and as I debated trying it, I felt a tickle start. Eyes watering, I held my breath. It didn’t do any good. I sneezed, accidentally tearing the page.
“Damn it!” I swore, looking up to see that I had startled Jenks into the air. “I’m not allergic to cats! It’s a summer cold. That’s all.”
I felt the urge again. Exasperated, I closed my eyes and tried to stop it, making an ugly noise when I couldn’t. I knew I had seen a spell for sneezing that didn’t revolve around cats. Where the devil was it?
“Oh, yeah,” I said softly, crouching down to get my old ley line textbook out from between The Big Cookie Cookbook and my copy of Real Witches Eat Quiche.
“Rache?” Jenks said, coming to stand on the counter when I opened it up to the index.
“What?” I snapped.
“You need any help?”
I stopped what I was doing and looked to find him standing miserably before me with his wings drooping. Rex was twining about my ankles, and if I thought it was anything other than misplaced affection, I would have been charmed. Slowly I exhaled. “I don’t think so,” I said, flipping to page 49. “Ley line charms are pretty easy. I’m getting better at them, and if it does the trick, then we’re all set.”
He nodded and flitted up to the ladle, his favorite spot in the kitchen, where he could see me, the door, and a good slice of the garden.