The Accidental Familiar (Accidentals #14)

Maybe this was a lead to why she was so turned off by Avis. Maybe it was nothing more than he was a womanizer. “Interesting. What happened?”


“He’s never really talked about it much, other than saying someone he loved deeply burned him.”

Rolling her eyes, she wrinkled her nose at Rick. “I’m so surprised you never talked about it. Men.”

“It’s just not how we roll, bonita.”

The word bonita reminded her of his very light, only occasionally detectable accent. “So you came from Mexico with your parents at a year old. Yet, you still have a hint of an accent.”

He bobbed his head, his dark hair falling toward his chin. “Though both of my parents spoke English fluently, they encouraged me to speak Spanish at home. I think it sort of stuck with me. It reminds me of them, I guess. It gets thicker when I curse in Spanish.”

His parents, both deceased; felt like a sore subject. Maybe one best left for another getting-to-know-you session. They were in a nice, noncombative place right now, and while she was all for pushing him to open up to her, she wasn’t for pushing him over the ledge.

Instead, Poppy asked the question burning on the tip of her tongue ever since she’d picked up the Rick Manual. “So it says here Yash was the name of your last familiar. Mind if I ask what happened?”

Because he hadn’t said a word about any other familiar in his life. In fact, she hadn’t even thought about asking if he’d had others.

But this Yash was listed as his familiar since Rick was a child. He was her predecessor. Surely he had something to say about him?

Yet, that was the moment Rick tensed up, his body language changing in the blink of an eye as his fingers tightened in a clenched fist and his jaw hardened. “I don’t mind if you ask, I’m just not ready to answer.”

Oh, okay. Here it came. That close-mouthed, withdrawn, I-can’t-go-there-just-yet shtick. She braced herself when she said, “Look, we can keep things as superficial as you’d like, I guess. We can talk about your love of heinous little balls of green puke. We can talk about Princeton. We can talk about ’56 Chevys. But we can’t really understand each other, really get to a place where I understand your reactions and motivations, if you don’t divulge.”

Instead of loosening up, he became more rigid and unyielding, letting go of the strand of her hair he’d been playfully twisting around his finger and sitting back against the couch.

“Yash is a closed subject.”

As Poppy was about to get more insistent, the doorbell to the shed rang, startling her.

“Got it!” Nina bellowed, her husky voice ringing through the small living room.

As they both sat in tense silence, Poppy simmering and Rick clamping his lips up tighter than if a vise had been slapped on his mouth, Marty, Wanda, Carl, and Calamity were all sound and motion, welcoming someone inside.

A pretty woman with round glasses, her chestnut hair in a fishtail braid over her right shoulder, held out her hand to Poppy. “Hi, Poppy. Sorry it took me so long to get here, but as you know, blood moon prep is upon us. Some patients are more freaked out than others. Anyway, I’m January Malone. A therapist and a witch.” She followed her introduction with a smile, making her pretty face even prettier.

Poppy hopped up and took her hand, smiling in return. “You’re the person who referees between these two, right? Where’s your headgear?”

January grinned, crossing her arms over her chest, the sparkle of her wedding ring offset by the purple sweater she wore. “I left it in the car,” she said on a chuckle but then her nose wrinkled. “Calamity?”

“Yeah, Doc?”

“You smell that?”

Calamity circled January’s ballet-slippered feet. “Pizza. I smell pizza. With anchovies. Did you and Mr. Doctor have pizza for dinner?”

Bending at the waist, the doctor scooped up Calamity and tipped her chin. “Mr. Doctor doesn’t eat food, remember? And that’s not what I mean. Sniff Poppy.” Holding the cat up, she put her directly in front of Poppy.

Calamity took a deep whiff, her whiskers tickling Poppy’s face. “Ooooh. Aw, yeah. Damn, Doc. That’s what I was afraid of. It ain’t good at all. I was hoping I was wrong, but Rick smelled it the other night, too. So we called you to be sure.”

Panic began to swirl in Poppy’s belly as she looked from January to Calamity and their stricken faces. “What?”

January set Calamity down and took Poppy’s hand. “Why don’t we sit?”

Rick, who had risen when January entered, stuck his hand out. “Rick Delassantos. Pleasure to meet you.”

January took it and gave it a firm shake then turned her gaze back to Poppy. “Can we sit?”

But Poppy shook her head, jamming her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Nope. Just hit me with it. I can take it.”

Nina gave her a thump on the shoulder as Carl grabbed her hand with his stiff one and tucked her near. “Sit, kiddo. Don’t be a fucking hero.”

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