The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) by Dakota Cassidy

bright glare over the “shed.”
    Everyone, even Poppy, gasped at once as they all huddled together and looked out the window.
    Calamity scurried to a plaid armchair and jumped up on the back of the cushiony surface. “Whaaat? What’s happening?”
    But then she quieted, too, but only after she sighed an, “Ahhh.”
    Rick was right. It wasn’t what they’d thought when he’d said shed. This was no shed as in garden shed-shed. This was a damn Victorian palace in miniature form. From the adorable white gingerbread trim above the doors and along the tiny white porch with spindled railings, to the barn-red siding and square, crosshatched windows, it was precious.
    The mini house sat amidst mums in every color, in pots of all shades, sizes and shapes, and also sprouting from the ground, presenting a veritable sea of orange, burgundy, yellow and dark pink. There were bushes in all the deep hues of fall, popping up between the blossoming flowers, their leaves beginning to turn with the onset of fall.
    A white stone path to the front door was lined with white lantern lights, swinging in the cold breeze, completing a picturesque setting she’d only ever dared dream.
    “That’s mine?” Poppy finally managed to squeak.
    “Until I can grease a palm or two, yeah,” he said, his tone almost teasing. “Everything you need is there. Towels, fresh linens, food, coffee, a big cushy bed. So, if you ladies don’t mind, and if we’re done with asshole orientation for the day, it’s late. Maybe you could go settle in, and we’ll touch base tomorrow morning.”
    Which meant get the hell out.
    Fine. She could do that. She needed a shower and a stiff drink. But she’d settle for a shower and a hot cup of cocoa. Jingling the keys under his nose, Poppy nodded. “Ladies, let’s go check out my new, probably not-forever home.”
    Turning on her heel, she began to make her way across the wide room, planning to make a big exit like she’d just dropped the mic. But as was her MO, and maybe one of the reasons she wasn’t Broadway’s biggest hit, she stumbled in her platforms and tripped over Rick’s big, clunky shoes that sat by the door.
    His laughter as she yanked the door open rankled right down to the tips of her cold, numb toes.
    * * * *
    Son of a bitch.
    Pacing the length of his kitchen floor, Rick, kicked at the dust left by the gaping hole in his ceiling with an angry foot.
    He did not want a new damn familiar.
    He’d had a familiar. That lifelong friend, that trusted confidant, that almost-like-a-father-to-him familiar.
    The familiar who had up and left him. Literally abandoned him a year ago, leaving everything he owned behind.
    Everything that was, in fact, all still in what they’d both once jokingly called the very shed he’d sent Poppy and the group of women to settle into. But who needed everything when you could buy more everything? If what Rick suspected was true, Yash didn’t need his things from the shed.
    The shed was a sore spot for him now. Yash had turned that shed into his solace. His sanctuary, a place he could seek respite when the weight of a being familiar and the world became too much. And then he’d jumped ship after twenty-five years.
    No explanation. No note. No phone call. No whispers from the other side about his whereabouts. Yash had just been gone, and he’d left Rick frantic and worried sick.
    But that wasn’t all he’d left Rick with. He’d also left his business in ashes. Well, almost. Somehow, Yash had siphoned millions from his development company. Rick had found the proof on a thumb drive in the shed. All just out there for anyone to find.
    Likely, he’d used his magic to find the passwords he’d needed, conjured a spell dripping with greed, and then he’d stolen away like some thief in the night. But what bothered Rick the most was the fact that Yash hadn’t taken any pains to hide his deception. Not a one.
    Yash was one of the smartest men Rick knew, and he’d desperately