Binding the Shadows (Arcadia Bell #3)(21)

“Okay, okay,” Jupe protested.

I stopped in front of my open door. Both of them stared back at me, wide-eyed, like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “What the hell is going on?” I asked.

“Get in,” Lon said.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing. Just get in.”

A horrible worry cramped my stomach, but I got inside and shut the door.

Lon shifted into gear and drove toward the house, a modern long-lined construction of stack stone and plate glass. Very Frank Lloyd Wright. Expensive but not showy. It sprawled on a section of cleared land that overlooked the Pacific, with stunning views. But right now it was the house itself that was worrying me. I could see movement inside the golden light outlining the oversized windows. I’d usually assume it was just the Holidays. They came and went freely, and their snug cabin-style house was only a short walk down another side road.

But when I spotted the strange white Mercedes parked behind Lon’s dusty pickup truck in the circular driveway in front of the house, I started to sweat.

“Whose car is that? Is that a rental? That’s a rental. Is that car from the airport?”

Lon pulled up behind it. “Now listen. I didn’t know. Mrs. Holiday just called me.”

Jupe squealed in delight. “Cady, you are going to love them!” He opened his door before the SUV came to a complete stop and leapt out, then ran up the path to the dark red front doors.

“What’s going on?” I was close to sobbing again. Could this night get any worse?

Jupe’s voice carried to the SUV as he flung the double doors open. “Gramma!”

“Oh, God,” I said. “Why are they early? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Rose didn’t warn me. She does this sometimes.”

Rose Giovanni, aka Gramma. Lon’s ex-wife’s mother. And she was with Yvonne’s sister, Adella. Lon’s in-laws. Jupe’s real family. Send me back to the racetrack. I could deal with a supernatural fight. I could not deal with interpersonal family relations. Not yet. I needed more time to prepare.

I stepped out of the car in a daze. Lon walked around to my side. “I didn’t know,” he insisted, forcing me to look at him. “Hey. Stop worrying.”

“But I’m the enemy,” I whispered. “I’m Yvonne’s replacement. I’m young. I’m a dirty stinking magician.”

He lifted my chin up. “You’ll win them over.”

“Ugh.”

“Give them time to get to know you. They’ll accept you.”

I grunted.

“If you need time to go upstairs and get cleaned up, I’ll go in first. Come down when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Just remember, Rose can hear through walls.”

Clairaudient. Worst knack ever. I feigned a small weeping noise.

Lon pulled me close. “We’ll figure out what’s going on with your Moonchild power. And we’ll hunt down the rat who robbed you tomorrow. Can’t do much tonight anyway.” He kissed me softly, first on the lips, then on the tip of my nose. “Mmm?”

I nodded, and we made our way to the front door.

Giddy talk and laughter rang though the house as we stepped inside the foyer. My gaze swept over the living room as Lon walked toward the commotion.

The Butler home was minimally decorated, lots of pale wood and long, low seating. White lights covered the branches of the World’s Biggest Christmas Tree. It was heavy with Jupe’s ornaments (some were made in elementary school, some were miniature plastic models of comic book characters he collected) and took up half a floor-to-ceiling window.

Sliding doors led to an expansive deck in back. I could see figures reflected in the glass there. And as Lon rounded the foyer hallway wall, I paused, scoping out the visitors before they saw me.

At first, all I saw were the twin white-bobbed heads of Mr. and Mrs. Holiday. They weren’t actually a Mr. and Mrs.—that was just what Jupe had called them since he was a kid, and the names stuck. In actuality, they were two women in their late sixties. They looked like Martha Stewart stand-ins. They treated Jupe as if he were their own grandchild, and I was pretty fond of them and their no-bullshit attitudes. Right now, they were laughing with the Giovannis as if they were all best of friends. Mrs. Holiday moved out of the way, and I caught my first glimpse of the in-laws.

Yvonne’s younger sister Adella was as I imagined: tall and willowy, with a dark mass of curls very similar to Jupe’s restrained by a wide purple scarf. Pretty in an understated way. She wore a sheath dress the color of wine, and a long string of mismatched metallic beads. Her complexion was darker than Yvonne’s, a deep cinnamon-warmed brown. Round cheeks shone under the living room lights as she laughed. Jupe was flexing his barely-there arm muscles for her. “Feel that!”

She pinched his upper arm. “Here? Or here? Tell me when you’re ready to flex.”

“I’m flexing!” He gave up and tackled her around the waist, trying to lift her off the ground. “Urgggh! Damn, Auntie. Have you gained weight?”

She reached across his back and slapped him playfully. “Let go of me, fool, and give me a proper kiss, or you’re not getting any of Gramma’s blackberry bars.”