Damsel Under Stress (Enchanted, Inc. #3)

Damsel Under Stress (Enchanted, Inc. #3) Page 41

“We’ve been assigned as a team,” Owen added.

I wondered if I should chime in, but before I could think of anything to contribute to the discussion, Gloria was off on another tangent. “And what does Merlin have to say about all this?”

“It was his idea that we work together. We’re trying to prepare for any possibility, whether Idris just wants to disrupt us or whether he’s really trying to take over the magical world.”

“What do you think he’s doing?” James asked, his voice calm and neutral, but his eyes keenly focused on his foster son.

“I think he’s being used. He’s not the real threat. He may just be a diversion.” He looked directly at them then. “You were around the last time anyone made a real bid for power. How was that dealt with? There’s not a lot in the chronicles.”

James and Gloria exchanged a look that made chills go up and down my spine. If I wasn’t mistaken, they both looked scared to death. Owen frowned and bit his lip, which indicated he’d noticed that look, as well. They held the look for a while, and then Gloria nodded at her husband.

“The situations don’t compare,” James said, his voice as cool and calm as before, but with an edge underneath it. “That was a direct, obvious attempt at domination, while this appears to be a more subversive, oblique approach. We were able to take on those rogues with an all-out magical attack. Your enemy is hiding. This appears to have the makings of a magical guerrilla war.”

“I doubt there’s anything to learn from that particular bit of history,” Gloria added, her voice gentler than before. “There’s not much point in spending a lot of time studying it. You’d be better off talking to Merlin about Mordred and Morgana if you want to study the past. Would anyone care for seconds?”

It was a clear signal that that part of the conversation was over. Owen and I had barely made a dent in our food, and Gloria hadn’t touched hers yet, so I doubted she really felt like she needed to offer seconds. I worked up the nerve to say, “No, thank you, but it’s delicious.” She then turned her laser-sharp gaze on me, as if just then remembering that I was even in the room. I instantly regretted opening my mouth.

“Katie’s a pretty good cook, herself,” Owen said. “She does a lot of baking.”

I thought that would focus the interrogation on me, so I braced myself to describe what I could cook and how I’d learned, but she turned right back to Owen. “How is Rod doing? Is he coming home for Christmas?”

“I think he’s doing okay, but I don’t know what his plans are. We haven’t talked much in a while.”

James and Gloria exchanged another funny look, though this one wasn’t as intense as the one before. “Really?” Gloria asked. “Why not?” I could have sworn that there was a hint of nervousness or uncertainty in her voice, but I couldn’t imagine why that might be.

“We’ve been busy. We keep missing each other at the office, and he’s got his usual extracurricular activities.”

“You two aren’t fighting, are you?”

Owen returned his attention to his plate, shoving food around with his fork. His cheeks had gone bright red. “No, nothing like that. Just life, you know?” I knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth because he and Rod had fought about what had happened between Rod and me when we were under an enchantment, though they’d since worked that out. Gloria didn’t look like she missed much of anything, so I was sure she also knew he was lying, but she didn’t press the issue.

“You mentioned you got your hands on that Welsh codex,” James said, changing the subject abruptly. Then James and Owen were off once more in an academic discussion. I ate while pretending to listen. Gloria was able to make a few comments, but mostly she just listened, too. Once when I glanced in her direction, I could have sworn her eyes glistened with tears while she looked at Owen. Maybe he was onto something about her getting a scary diagnosis.

After lunch, I overrode Gloria’s objections to help clear the table, but she absolutely refused to let me help wash dishes. “You’re our guest. I won’t let you wash dishes until your next visit. Besides, I like washing dishes. The warm water feels good on my hands, and it helps me think. You and Owen should take Arawn for a walk.” In the hallway outside the kitchen, the dog barked in agreement.

We bundled up, then took a short walk up and down the street. Owen didn’t appear to be in a chatty mood, and I didn’t press the point, so we walked mostly in silence. We returned to the house to find dessert being served in the parlor, with hot coffee and tea in a formal silver service.