The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) by Kate Quinn (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

“What? No! Nico and I aren’t—” I jerk my hand back, accidentally jostling my other neighbor. “Sorry,” I say, turning to find Seamus, the satyr who had taken us to meet Adorra. I also notice that Priapus has taken the seat across the table from me. He winks when our eyes meet and I quickly look away.

“It’s okay,” Seamus waves off the apology. “It’s a tight squeeze around here, but the theory is that it fosters community for us to be all rubbing up against each other.” He shrugs. “And you know what they say—”

“I know, I know,” I sigh, resigned to hearing the motto everywhere I go. “Where comes one, so come we all.”

Seamus grins. “Actually, I was gonna say they always remind us that it’s all you can eat.”

“Oh,” I reply, nonplussed.

“Of course, the quality depends on who’s cooking that day,” Seamus adds. He nods down at my food, which I still haven’t touched. “Is this not what you were expecting?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Just very…normal?” I offer, glancing at the cheeseburger. It’s actually kind of disappointing. I’d expected something odd—or even flat out awful. But regular old American fare appears to be exactly what is on the menu, which gets reinforced as someone else comes around with a vast basket of fries on his hip, unceremoniously dumping handfuls onto plates.

“I really hope he washed his hands,” I say under my breath to Seamus, who smiles.

“If it’s not to your liking, add some salt,” Seraphina says helpfully, reaching for one of the many shakers that line the center of the table. I pick one up, holding it to the light.

“Are you sure this is salt?” I ask the mermaid. “It’s pink.”

“It might not be salt, but it’s definitely salty,” she says, dumping a copious amount all over her pile of fries.

“Wait—is this….?” I put the shaker down, fast. There’s only one thing I can think of that would be salty, but not actual salt. It would also explain why everyone around me seems to be really enjoying their food.

I mean, sure I’ve definitely groaned in ecstasy while biting into one of Dickie’s freshly made Bavarian creme with chocolate frosting donuts. Any other reaction would be an insult.

But the cheeseburgers and fries being served up here are in no way deserving of the moans, groans, and even shrieks of pure pleasure going off on every side of me.

“It’s incubus sperm, isn’t it?” I say to Seamus, who is thankfully one of the few people whose eyes aren’t rolling back in his head with orgiastic pleasure. Having once had my own—accidental—run in with incubus spunk, I know exactly the reaction it has on the body. It’s like every nerve ending is alive and totally turned on. Any touch or movement results in spine bending orgasms. A burp made me come so hard I almost blacked out.

“It’s actually sun-dried incubus semen. I put a suggestion in the comments box the other week asking them to put labels on the condiments…” Seamus shakes his head. “But I guess they haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“How come you’re not seasoning your food?” I ask.

“I found that food digests better if I’m, ahem, not preoccupied with other things,” Seamus smiles sheepishly.

Beside me Serephina’s elbow knocks against mine and it sends her into full body shudders that either mean she’s an epilectic mermaid or else…

“Oh wow, that was good for me,” she says, reaching for another french fry. She slants me a knowing look. “Was it good for you?”

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” I say, pushing back from the table. I feel something nudge my knee, and across from me, Priapus gives me a wide smile.

“Keep your wiener-schnauzen to yourself,” I snap at him, causing Seraphina to wag a finger in my face.

“Paige,” she says, “that is no way to address a god.”

I’m about to tell her that I’m a huge fan of sushi and I’m going off-grounds to get some, when the room falls into a hush. Heads hit the table all around me, squashing cheeseburgers and sending shakers of sun-dried incubus sperm toppling.

I sigh, dipping my own head down to the tablecloth as Hairy Underwood is brought to sit at the head of the table. The procession is dramatic, with Kama moving in front of her stuffed dog, tossing flower petals into his path.

“What is the deal with this?” I hiss to Seraphina, who glances over at me, her own forehead touching the table.

“Hairy is a direct descendent of the first Dalmanther ever,” she whispers. “When he passed away…” Seraphina sighs deeply as if just the thought of Hairy’s death is tragic. “It was horrible. This was years before my time, of course. When Together We Come wasn’t even an official thing, but just a small group of like-minded friends.”

“Okay, but then…” I say, knowing there’s more to this story.

“Well, Kama was devastated. She made plans to bury Hairy—and herself—here on the grounds.”

“Wait. What? Like, bury herself alive?” I ask, wanting to make sure I’m understanding this.

“Of course,” Seraphina confirms, like this isn’t all cuckoo crazy. Then again but just hours ago I’d considered sending Shit into the afterlife with my Thunderstick, so maybe I’m not totally right in the head either. It also makes me think that I need to reconsider my ‘all I need is my dog and vibrator’ mentality.

“That’s where our motto comes from,” Seraphina adds. “Where comes one, so come we all.”

“Kama thought that up while she was getting ready to bury herself alive?” I ask.

“No, Hairy did,” Seraphina says looking at me like I’m slow for not understanding this already. “He told her about the motto and then gave her the entire vision for the Together We Come community.” Seraphina leans in closer to add, “Hairy even came up with having a podcast.”

“Wow,” I say, not having to fake my amazement. “And Hairy tells everyone these things or—”

“Oh no,” Seraphina says. “He only talks to Kama. I don’t know what we’d do without her.”

Well, they’d