MetamorphosUS: Book 1 of the Mythfit Witch Mysteries by Rebecca Vassy

Author:Rebecca Vassy [Vassy, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy, paranormal adventure
Publisher: DivaNations Story Studio
Published: 2021-02-09T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Mine was a deep, absolute, dreamless sleep. And it was a blessing, because morning came all too soon and there was no time today for sleeping in. Sara was spooned up against me when we woke to the rooster call of some self-appointed comedians walking among the tents talking into megaphones. It sounded like they were bantering with and getting in digs at people who were just emerging from their tents, but I was too groggy to pay much attention.

“Good morning and fuck us very much, I guess,” murmured Sara after they blared some retort right next to our heads. We giggled and snuggled closer.

“I don’t want to get up yet,” I said into the thick fall of her braids. Thoughts of the day’s demands crested the horizon of my consciousness.

“Me neither.”

“But it’s really fucking hot in here,” I added after a long moment.

“I’m sweating like a pig,” she agreed.

“Pigs don’t sweat. That’s what the mud is for.”

“Ugh. Shut up, smarty pants. It’s too early for science.”

“I wonder what one does sweat like, if not pigs.”

“Boys,” she said, with such utter disdain that I laughed. She rolled over to face me and we lay there, almost nose to nose, reading each other’s faces. “We’re okay, right?”

“God, I hope so. I’m not in my twenties anymore. I’m so over making a federal case out of something that didn’t hurt anyone.” I paused. “No one’s hurt here, right?”

“I’m not.” I could wake up many more times to that smile.

“Good.” We’d long since kicked off the covers; the angle of the light seemed early, but it was already heating up the interior of the tent, turning it into a tiny nylon oven. I sat up reluctantly and stretched. “The breakfast menu at Chez Mari is pretty skimpy, but you’re welcome to a breakfast bar or an apple or whatever I have.”

“Let’s go raid Free Radicals. They have a never-ending supply of bacon.” She didn’t have to add that it would let us start dealing with everything that hung over us. We were both thinking it.

“Speaking of sweating,” I said, sifting through the now-jumbled pile of my belongings, “I think I’ve now worn every piece of clothing I own. Yuck. How much do you think anyone would care if I smuggled some laundry into the shower with me?”

She waved it away. “I can lend you something. And later we’ll go get you outfitted at the Goblin Market. We may be doing battle this evening, but no reason we can’t do it in style.”

We emerged into the mercifully-fresh air to head to the showers, though Sara was detouring to her tent first. She hesitated. “I’ll meet you back at your tent, okay?” she said. “I think I’m going to hit the stalls.”

I realized I’d been assuming I would go to the mixed-gender showers where there was no privacy at all, not even thinking about whether that would make her uncomfortable. Goddammit, Mari. I just said “Okay,” and let it go because I wasn’t sure whether saying anything else would make it worse.

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