Chapter Twenty-nine
KING could hardly believe his eyes, yet he’d known something was up. The three of them looked identical . . . but not. There was a sameness yet a uniqueness about each, even from the back. Three dressed alike, in black statement shirts with orange lettering. PMS, indeed. A good ruse that would explain the little differences, should someone come upon the wrong . . . triplet? . . . unexpectedly. He’d nearly mistaken one, or two, of them for Harmony. Nearly. But not quite.
“I think we’re having the same hallucination,” Morgan said. “You three act like you know what you’re doing, I’ll give you that. I can’t wait to see what’s on that wall, if anything.”
“I can’t wait to see you side by side,” Aiden said. And when they turned, he raised a victory fist in the air, and shouted, “Yes! I wasn’t talking to Harmony most recently, was I? Which sassy witch was that?”
King saw the one in the middle wink.
“I admit,” Morgan said, “that I thought Harmony was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met, and now I’m seeing triple, but I can’t tell which one’s Harmony. Bet you can’t either, King.”
“Oh, but I can.”
Like Morgan, Aiden went for his wallet. “We’re taking that bet.”
King strolled over to Harmony, the one whose chin rose a notch higher, whose nipples pebbled when he got close, whose eyes revealed disbelief, whose lips parted in invitation. He looked her in the eye, hooked an arm around her waist, and kissed her senseless. Half a second into the kiss, she returned his enthusiasm, her fingers tangling in his hair. Definitely his. Well, not precisely his.
Morgan swore, and Aiden whistled.
King knew he should break the kiss, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.
“Go, Daddy!” Reggie cheered.
And he’d had enough. King stepped away from Harmony while his daughter applauded. King’s ears got hot, so he was sure they were beet red. One of Harmony’s sisters gravitated to Aiden like a homing device.
“How long have you two been here?” King asked the newcomers.
“Hours,” Destiny said. “We saw you trying to make out with our sister.”
The discordant sound of music turned them to the piano. The kittens were dancing on and off the keys.
Morgan pulled aside the tapestry and palmed the wall. “You really think there’s a mural behind the grime?”
“We do,” Harmony said. “Aiden, Morgan, King, this is my sister Destiny, and the irreverent hussy is Storm. We’re triplets.”
“And you all think you’re psychic,” Morgan said.
“Takes one to know one,” the three of them said together.
“You’re psychic, besides being a witch?” King asked Harmony. “How does Morgan know?”
Harmony raised her brows. “How does Morgan know?”
Morgan stepped back. “From the way you were reading a painting that doesn’t exist.”
“Oh.” Harmony sat on a sofa. “He’s the debunker, Des.”
“So he says.”
Harmony looked from Morgan to Destiny and shrugged. “Whatever.”
Jake held up three fingers. “Free.”
“That means three,” Reggie explained.
“Three of us, yes, and I already know that you can’t say Harmony.” She kissed Jake’s hand. “But can you say Honey, instead?”
“I can say Honey.”
It’s settled then. “You can call me Honey.”
“Free Honeys?”
“No, I’m Honey, that’s Dessie, and that’s Storm.”
Jake nodded. “Honey, Dessie, and Strom.”
“Figures,” Storm said, picking him up. “You get the easy name wrong.” She held him close and kissed his brow. “Say Storrrrrrm.”
“Strommm.”
Storm held Jake tight for a minute, which didn’t seem at all in character, King thought.
Two workers were taking down the tapestry. “Can we get those spotlights up?” Harmony asked. “Aiden, how long will it take you to clean the wall?”
“A couple of hours, maybe more. Depends on how dirty it is and what medium was used . . . in the event anyone painted anything.”
“Gilda has supper ready,” King said. “Let’s eat first.”
Harmony touched his hand. “We need a few minutes to change.”
King watched them go. “How can you not tell them apart?” he asked his friends.
“I know what you mean,” Aiden said, watching as well. “I know which one is Storm. She walks and flirts with sassitude.”
“Which witch is the witch that starts with a B?” Morgan asked.
“Don’t mix up the B witch and the W witch around them,” King said. “You might find yourself growing a tail.”
At supper, the triplet whose tight butterscotch V-neck tee said Destiny arrived first, wearing jeans and cowboy boots.
“What? No Spurs?” Morgan asked, before he ducked the pickle the cowgirl threw.
King was afraid the Storm triplet would scare Jake. She’d traded her blonde bombshell look for purple hair and lips, and a spiked dog collar. Her black spiderweb skirt made her look like a female vampire, and her boots probably came with a whip. But Aiden was beaming.
“Rev your engine?” Storm asked.
Aiden’s eyes glazed over. “Vroom.”
Last to the table, the hellcat arrived in peach spikes and matching tee with a gauzy rust orange skirt flowing around her legs, a tiger lily above her breasts and at each ear.
“Our father did this to us,” Destiny said, opening her napkin. “He made us wear name shirts, at home, till we left for college.”
“Irresponsible and clueless,” Storm said. “We were trading shirts at Jake’s age.”
Harmony nodded. “It’s Dad’s fault we’re hooked on literal statement shirts. I mean, we don’t like these, but they have their uses.”
“I’ve started hoping for messages,” King admitted, “so call me a convert.”
“Harmony,” Storm chided. “Did you wear the O donor shirt?”
“She did.” Aiden’s appreciation annoyed King.
Aiden winked at Storm. “I gotta go start that wall.” But he didn’t move, probably because she didn’t.
“What’s with the gigundous boxes in the great hall?” Harmony asked, offering King the potatoes.
“Clothes, toddler furniture, supplies, mattresses. We’re converting the dorm wing into bedrooms. The adults will use the furniture we’ve got.”
“But it has negative energy.” Harmony sighed and looked at her sisters. “We have some neutralizing to do. My sisters are staying for a few days. We have enough cots.”
“We’re filling up the dorm by the minute,” Reggie said.
Harmony looked up, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Why? Who else is staying?”
“Aiden and I,” Morgan said. “King asked us to stick around, roll up our sleeves, and move furniture.”
“Yummy,” Storm said. “A coed sleepover.”
Reggie cleared her throat. “Yoo-hoo. Two-year-old in the dorm.”
“Bummer,” Storm said.
Aiden gave Storm a wink. “Keep me company while I clean the wall?”
“I’m outta here.” Storm followed Aiden from the kitchen.
“I’m gonna get Jake ready for bed,” Reggie said, “so by the time anybody comes up, he’ll be asleep.”
“We’ll try to be quiet,” King hefted Jake in his arms for a good night hug. “Night, sport. I’m sorry, Regg, I should have finished your room today.”
“We’ve never had a room of our own. Jake won’t wake up, he—no we—grew up in shelters, people coming and going all night, sometimes drunk. I sleep with one eye open, but nothing wakes him. Night,” she said as she left.
King sat and felt the weight of her suffering. His fault. All his fault.
“I’m gonna watch Aiden do the wall,” Destiny said. “We’ll need you in a little while, Sis.”
King gazed at Harmony.
Morgan scraped his chair back. “Three’s a crowd, so I’m . . . like you care.”
“Be there in a minute,” Harmony said.
King wanted to take her for a stroll through the parlor car, but he needed some questions answered. “Why are your sisters really staying?”
“To neutralize the negative energy in the rooms and furniture. Not much around here is positive.”
“I’m positive I want you in a bed.”
“For the record, I’m . . . open . . . to the possibility. But our wailing resident is seriously scary. The cats went berserk in the toy room today. I need my sisters for backup.”
“What does that mean?”
“Together, we combine our magick and harness our psychic energy. Together, we become the power of three as one. Together, we’re powerful witches.”