A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch （Glimmer Falls, #2(57)

Astaroth retrieved it and handed it over.

“Thanks.” She pulled her water bottle out of the side pocket and drank, then passed it to him so he could do the same. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter,” she said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Let’s check out the room.”

Astaroth wanted to demand she stay there and share all her secrets with him, but that would make her snap and raise her defenses further. He pushed down his burning curiosity and bowed, sweeping his hand toward the door. “Then lead the way, oh fair nemesis.”

EIGHTEEN

Oh, fair nemesis.

Ridiculous.

Astaroth was still bent over in a dramatic bow, eyes gleaming with mischief as he gazed up at her. He looked too damn good for someone who had spent two days on the road without a shower after sustaining a traumatic brain injury.

She needed to get him a new shirt though. And herself, for that matter. While she had another ratty flannel in the truck somewhere, it would be nice to wear something that wasn’t wrinkled or sweat stained.

Calladia stepped around Astaroth to get to the door. The treehouse was shaped like an octagon around the wide trunk, with floor-to-ceiling windows shielded by moss-green curtains. The front door was large enough to accommodate even a griffin or centaur and had been carved to depict griffins in flight. Brass doorknobs stood at various heights, from the base to the top. Calladia slipped the key fob into a hollow above one knob, and the lock clicked.

Inside was just as charming as Tansy had cawed. The ceiling was angled, with exposed wooden beams, and the live trunk of the tree formed a rough central pillar. Calladia walked clockwise around the trunk, admiring the space as she opened curtains to let the late afternoon light in. A stove sat near the front—magically powered, presumably—along with a mini fridge, a sink, and an adjustable dining table and chairs built to accommodate beings of multiple sizes. Past the kitchen area was a Japanese folding screen painted with a forest scene. When Calladia pulled the screen back, she found a toilet and sink, a full-length mirror, and a massive porcelain bathtub/shower that caused her to let out an involuntary moan. She hadn’t had a good soak in a long time, and boy, could she use one.

She pulled back the folding screen on the other side of the tub to continue her exploration. This seemed like a sitting area, with rustic furniture scattered around. There was a dresser and more eclectically constructed chairs, as well as shelves holding board games. Past that was a plush-looking four-poster bed and a small couch in front of a fireplace in which blue flames flickered. Calladia recognized the spell powering them: the fire would emanate warmth but no smoke, and it was limited to one spot, so there was no danger of burning the tree down.

The room was definitely cute. She’d have to compliment Tansy—

Calladia’s thoughts ground to a halt.

Hang on.

She turned to face the bed.

The only bed.

“This can’t be right,” Calladia said. “I asked Tansy for two twins.”

“Did they confirm there were two beds?” Astaroth asked. “I got lost with all that screeching.”

Calladia thought back to her conversation with Tansy, which, now that she considered it, had seemed odd. When Calladia had requested two twins, the griffin had nodded sagely and said the request seemed redundant, but there were indeed two frames.

Or had the griffin actually said consult the flames?

Calladia hurried to inspect the fireplace. An engraved metal plate was screwed into the front:

For Love or Money

For Family or Fame

Your Heart Has a Want

So Wish on the Flames

This Wish Granter* Bespelled by Britannia the Benevolent, 1956.

Below it were more lines in minuscule type:

*Results may vary. Do not make a wish on an empty stomach. If your wish is followed by acrid green smoke or disembodied cackling, evacuate immediately. If a wished-for erection lasts more than four hours, seek medical attention. No returns on babies or pets. Do not wish for the apocalypse; it won’t work, and you’ll look like a jerk. This statement has not been evaluated by the FDA.

“Oh, Hecate,” Calladia said, slumping onto the couch before the fire. “Tansy thought I was making a wish.”

“For what?” Astaroth asked, bending to peer at the engraving.

Calladia stifled a hysterical shriek, because it was the absolute last thing she would have wished for. “They thought I wanted to be a parent to twins. Two of them.” She groaned. “No wonder Tansy thought my wish was redundant.”

Astaroth straightened. “They thought you wanted to be in possession of infants?”

He sounded so horrified by the prospect that Calladia cracked and started laughing. “Right? And why would I ask for that at a hotel, of all places?” She mimed making a phone call. “Hello, I would like to book a room and also to be mystically impregnated. Do you provide room service?”

Astaroth gave a full-body shudder. “Imagine being responsible for two tiny, fragile, squalling organisms who need constant supervision to prevent them from accidental death.”

“Exactly!” Calladia sat up straight and slapped her thigh. “My friends don’t get it. They all want kids someday. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; it just isn’t for me.”

Calladia had been waiting for some kind of biological clock to kick in and make the thought of being a parent more palatable. Sure, she had plenty of childbearing years left, but by their late twenties, most of her friends had already started speculating about when they’d have kids. They’d all seemed excited about it, too.