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

could change that.
    But if money wasn’t the answer, he’d find another one, because no way was he getting saddled with a smart-mouthed, platform-boot-wearing familiar.
    No matter how damn cute.
    He’d given his complete trust once before—he’d have given his own life in exchange for Yash’s.
    He was never going to invest in someone that deeply again.
    Not ever.
    * * * *
    “Damn, girl. Look at you!” Calamity squealed. “Jesus, you hit the mothereffin’ warlock jackpot, Poppy! Do you have any idea how fortunate you are to get this kind of gig first time around? It’s like someone in the universe didn’t expect you to pay your dues like the rest of us.”
    “Pay my dues?” Poppy asked, her mouth still agape.
    “Yeah. Usually a first timer gets some old witch or warlock from back in the day. You know, warts, gnarled fingers, a smoker’s cough, Merlin-wannabes galore, at least two centuries old. It’s a test of your tenacity, your gumption. Most of us have at least one in our past. But not only did you get a sweet piece of ass, you got a rich sweet piece of ass with a place that’s all yours. Shit, dude, you don’t know the half of how you lucked out.”
    Okay, so even she had to admit the “shed” was pretty great—every inch of it was magnificent. The overstuffed white couch, the pearl and oyster-white colored pillows lining it, the white brick fireplace, the barn wood and wrought iron coffee table, the old sky-blue milk jugs in variegated heights, housing stems of willow trees placed strategically in a brick-faced arched cutout in the wall.
    The compact kitchen, with its gleaming antique white cabinets and polished onyx-and-white-veined granite counters. The bleached white wood floors throughout the entire space. The strange, shimmering rocks in various muted colors placed all around the tiny abode.
    The bedroom and its white, puffy comforter with a lavender and gray floral coverlet, a connecting bathroom with an oval tub, and more gauzy shower curtain material flowing to the floor than a production of Cinderella.
    Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. The tiny house was great. But the master of the tiny house was a dick. How was she supposed to live with a dick for the rest of her eternity?
    Dragging a finger over one of the pale green rocks sitting on a round end table, Poppy shivered. “Calamity? I have a question. What happens if you’re not compatible with your warlock? Like, maybe I won’t go to the Bad Place if we just cite incompatibility, right? It has to have happened.”
    The feline strode across the hearth of the fireplace, finally settling in a corner. “Oh, it’s happened, but it’s never ended up good. We make it work no matter what. If you can’t make it work, what kind of peacemaker and advisor are you?”
    So much for that idea. “God, that’s so extreme. Why is everything so damn black and white? It’s either suck it or go to the Bad Place. Shut up or go to the Bad Place.”
    Wanda grabbed her hand, redirecting her attention, pulling Poppy to her side, the warmth of her skin heating up her cold fingers. “Let’s not think about the Bad Place. Let’s instead focus on this amazing little house. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
    Poppy nodded with a long sigh. “It’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived since I left home.” Even though it didn’t hold any of her most treasured things, it was still beautiful.
    Wanda peered into her eyes. “But?”
    “But I think it’s obvious, don’t you?”
    “You mean Ricardo’s reluctance about your arrival?”
    She snorted. “I’m sorry, did you say his all-out hatred of my arrival?” He wanted a familiar as much as Poppy wanted a root canal.
    Wanda giggled, rubbing Poppy’s hand with reassuring strokes. “Oh, honey, he’s just in shock. He’ll get past it.”
    “You think?” If he tried to trade her in, she was toast.
    “I dunno,” Nina said from her place on the couch, where she’d sunk into a corner, tucking a pillow behind her