“Well, then, here’s a suggestion for you. Why don’t you put on your bikini and get your cute little behind over here? It’s a perfect day to lay out by the pool and discuss orgy prevention. Oh, and stop on your way and pick up some peach nectar, will you?” Lurine added. “Tell Edgerton I feel like Bellinis.”

She hung up before I could answer, which annoyed me for a second or two before I realized that I really couldn’t imagine a better way to spend this particular day.

Lurine lived in a mansion on the lakeshore. The property came with lakefront access, but it was situated inland, nestled in the woods for maximum privacy. It was big and ostentatious and new, and a very far cry from the mobile home in Sedgewick Estate where Lurine Hollister née Clemmons had been my neighbor and babysitter when I was growing up.

Honestly, I can’t say the fabulously wealthy B-movie starlet and infamous widow Lurine Hollister was any happier or more content than simple, small-town bombshell Lurine Clemmons had been, or vice versa. They were just masks to her, and I don’t know that she preferred one to the other.

She probably had more fun being the notorious Lurine Hollister, but it was as Lurine Clemmons that she’d forged a genuine friendship with my mom and me, and over the course of this summer I’d come to realize that it meant a great deal to her, because it didn’t happen often to an immortal monster like her.

All credit goes to my mom on that score. Apparently raising a hell-spawn baby gives you a special knack for caring about monsters. Oh, and to put it up front, Lurine has made generous offers of financial support to both of us. Mom’s always been adamant about refusing, and I don’t want to undermine her decision on this.

At any rate, Lurine’s butler buzzed me through the gated drive and greeted me at the door. “Ms. Hollister is expecting you.”

“Great.” I handed him the jar of peach nectar I’d purchased on my way. “She said she wants Bellinis.”

He inclined his head. “Of course.”

Lurine was lolling in a lounge chair beside the pool in a gold lamé bikini and sunglasses, looking every inch the Hollywood movie starlet. “Hey, sweetie!” Reaching over, she patted the lounge chair nearest her. “Grab a towel and come soak up some sunshine.”

Realizing that she wasn’t alone, I hesitated. Nico the satyr was diligently wielding a long-handled pool skimmer, clad in a pair of loose-fitting board shorts with a sizeable hole cut out to accommodate his flowing horse’s tail.

“What?” Lurine followed my gaze. “Oh, it’s fine. Don’t worry, he’ll behave himself now. Won’t you, Nicodemus?”

The satyr gave her a surprisingly sweet smile. “Yes, kyria.”