Magic Burns(24)

She did. I rummaged through the closet and came up with an old box of my clothes Greg had kept since the time I had stayed with him after my father died. Fifteen-year-old me was a lot bigger than thirteen-year-old Julie, but the clothes would have to do.

I tossed the sweatpants and a T-shirt at her. “Shower.”

“I don’t do showers.”

“Do you do food? No shower, no food.”

She stuck out her lower lip. “You suck, you know that?”

I crossed my arms on my chest. “My house, my rules. You don’t like it, the door’s over there.”

“Fine!” She headed for the door.

Good riddance. I clamped my teeth, hoping I didn’t say it out loud, and went into the kitchen. I washed my hands with soap at the sink and searched the fridge for vittles. The only thing I had was a big bowl of cold low country boil. Me, I’d eat it cold: corn on the cob and shrimp were good cold anyway, and I was hungry enough to stomach the cold potatoes and sausage. Julie, on the other hand, might want it warm, preferably with butter.

To warm up or not to warm up? That was the question.

The sounds of rushing water announced a shower starting. She’d decided to stick around. I put a big pot of water on the gas burner. Magic did screwy things to all sorts of ordinary objects, but thankfully, the natural gas still burned. If all else failed, I had a small picnic heater on top of the fridge, together with a jug of kerosene for it.

I had almost finished picking out all of the shrimp, when a very thin, angelic-looking child walked into my kitchen. She had fly-away caramel hair and large brown eyes on a sharp face. It took me a full minute to recognize her and then I collapsed, laughing.

“What?” The little elf-baby looked taken aback.

“You’re very clean.”

Julie pulled my sweatpants up before they slid off her butt. “I’m hungry. We had a deal.”

“Watch the water for me. When it starts boiling, put everything in except the shrimp. Don’t eat the shrimp, it’s better warm, and don’t let the water boil over and drown the gas while I take a shower.”

I gathered a heap of clothes and crawled into the shower. There was nothing better than a nice hot shower after a long day. Well, maybe a hot shower followed by hot sex, but my memory in that department was getting a bit fuzzy.

It took a while to get all the dirt out of my hair, and when I popped into the kitchen, the water was boiling. I hooked a piece of corn on the cob with a giant fork. Steaming hot. Good enough. I dropped the shrimp into the pot, let it boil for a quarter of a minute or so, turned the gas off, and dumped the whole thing into the strainer.

The magic fell. On, off, on, off, make up your mind already. “Ever had a low country boil?”

Julie shook her head.

I put the colander in the center of the table and put salt and a stick of butter next to it. “Shrimp, sausage, corn on the cob, and potatoes. Try it. The sausage is turkey and deer meat. I was there when it was made. It doesn’t have dog or rat in it.”

Julie snagged a piece of sausage, tasted it, and attacked it like starving wolves were snapping at her food. “Thish ish good!” she announced through a mouthful of food.

I barely had a chance to finish the first cob, when a knock echoed through the door. I looked through the peephole. Red.

I opened the door. He glanced at me, eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Food?”

Kate Daniels, deadly swordswoman and rescuer of hungry orphans. “Come in. Wash your hands.”

Julie burst from the kitchen and threw her arms around him. Red stiffened and put one arm around her.

Her face over his shoulder took on a sweet dreamy look. Her mother’s disappearance had to have hit her hard, but losing Red would crush her.

“I missed you!” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he said, his face flat. “Me, too.”

Twenty minutes later I had two full kids and no boil. That meant I’d have to cook something tomorrow. Oi.

“Let’s talk.” I pinned Red to his chair with my stare. I did deranged quite well, when the occasion required. Strangely, most of my opponents didn’t faint and crash to the ground from my stare, but Red was young and used to being bullied. He froze. I didn’t like to intimidate adolescent street urchins, but I had a feeling he would bolt at the slightest opportunity if I played it nice. “Tell me what you know about the coven.”

“Nothing.”

“You took Julie to their gathering place. How did you know where it was?”

“I didn’t spill, I swear.” Julie paled a little.

Red kept his gaze locked on me. “Same as I found this place. Got some of her mom’s hair off a brush at her house. Made a charm, spilled some blood, and let it lead me.”