June Daley VS the Universe by Nora Oliver

Author:Nora Oliver
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: magic monsters fantasy, modern fantasy new york city, women main characters fantasy, witches and covens, easy reads fantasy
Publisher: Nora Oliver
Published: 2022-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: UNAPPRECIATED

June slept for twelve hours and miraculously did not wake to howling, throwing, hissing, or even hissy fits. Instead, she woke to the normal chaos of children stomping down the stairs like they’d slaughtered their entire family, then more stomping as they raced up and down the hallway in ways that only made sense to them.

When trying to suffocate herself with the pillow didn’t stop the stomping, June got up and went in search of coffee, figuring she might as well get some caffeine out of being awake.

Anton and Sybil were at the table with Abda, and they all looked like they’d been torn apart and remade, which was most of the truth. The bags under Abda’s eyes were swollen and pronounced, and Sybil’s hands shook as they grasped her mug. Anton, who was holding Junior, looked like the walking dead. June tried not to have flashbacks to being chased by a horde of zombies and failed miserably.

Silently, she poured them all cereal, put bread in the overlarge toaster, and set out the milk and orange juice, all while the coffee pot gurgled pointedly. She poured a cup, then three more, and spread them around the table. She settled next to Abda, and they all ate and sipped their coffee in peaceful companionship haloed by exhaustion.

“I saved the world yesterday,” June announced, while setting the toast on the table.

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Sybil replied, and June wasn’t entirely sure Sybil didn’t think she was talking to one of her children. “Pass the jam.”

June sighed loudly, but did as she was asked. Abda patted her hand absently, commiserating, and June decided that Sam would probably be more willing to be impressed. He, at least, wouldn’t have a werewolf-full-moon hangover that had been harsher than normal because of the spiritual activity the stone had riled up.

Or else he’d sigh and pretend to be interested in paperwork. It was fifty-fifty, but at least she could poke and prod until she got a reaction from him, which was better than the nothing she was getting out of her current audience.

She left with her dignity and sense of righteousness wrapped around her like a very poorly-crafted cloak. Haru trailed after her, hair mussed from the kids tackling him and crawling over him, teeth still crunching over the food Anton, or the house, had set out for him.

The ride to work was oddly mundane, and her skin itched with a sense of wrongness. The adventure was over, but it didn’t feel finished the way it should have. Her magic was swirling cautiously still, ebbing and flowing around thoughts of what had happened with the stone and the murders that preceded it. It added to her anxiety and general sense of impending trouble, which made her irritable and feel less like she had truly saved the world.

Grumpily, she hid behind her book and glared at anyone who looked too long at her and Haru.

Peace only came once she was behind her wards at work, hands firmly entrenched in the guts of the deadly grandfather clock.

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