I nodded, although words seemed just as elusive to me.
Out of the bathroom and down the stairs I went. I paused on the last step. I could straighten up the sitting room. Remembering that was where Alexi had Max move Mother’s body, my stomach twisted, deciding there’d be no straightening up there after all.
Not yet, at least.
Thinking I could clear the last things off the dining room table, I turned toward it but stopped short when I caught Cat reflected in the china cabinet. Her back to me, she focused on the wineglass that had held the cure—a wineglass that seemed even emptier than before.
What could I say to her? I’m sorry it didn’t work—but we knew there was a risk when you broke past the cure? Maybe we should’ve said something right after that…?
I backed away as quietly as I could and made my way to the kitchen.
Maybe I could cook something so Cat wouldn’t have to, and Max wouldn’t make some comment that’d hurt her already battered feelings. It was a small gesture, but better than doing nothing. Tugging open the refrigerator, I saw the casserole Wanda had brought over only a little while ago. And the pie. Even though almost no one knew about Tatiana’s death, it seemed the few who did felt a need to feed the mourners.
And in record time.
My cell phone buzzed, vibrating against my hip. I yanked it free. Sophie. I let it go straight to voice mail. If I didn’t know what to say to Cat, I sure didn’t have a clue about what to say to Sophia. She’d been instrumental to our temporary success but she’d also made it clear she wanted a normal life.
Just like I did.
The phone buzzed again and I shut it off, reaching over to turn on the radio instead.
Maybe if Soph and I never talked about any of this, it’d just go away.
A girl could dream.
“The first large snowfall of the season is expected to make its way into our region late tomorrow night,” the DJ announced. “We’re expecting between three and six inches in the course of twelve hours.”
Opening the fridge again, I discovered my mission, lame as it was. Snow was coming, and the Rusakovas were nearly out of milk. And bread. I dug into my jeans and counted my assortment of bills and coins. Yes. I could get supplies at the Grabbit Mart two blocks away and not bother anyone to drive. That’d clear my head almost as much as a horse ride and it’d get something they needed.
I shrugged into my coat, pulled on a knit hat, and wrapped the scarf that made Hogwarts standard-issue scarves seem bizarrely short around my neck.
Five times.
With a final glance toward the stairs, I shoved out the front door, plunged down the porch steps and into the wind.
CHAPTER TWO
Jessie
The snow glistened, peppering down in slow-spinning eddies, just starting to stick to the grass and moisten the sidewalk. At the first intersection I paused as a car went by. Ignoring the light, I crossed the street and suddenly found myself on the other corner clinging to the light post, my vision blurred and my breathing ragged.
Something twitched in the thin space between my brain and my skull and I let go of the light post and grabbed my head. A centipede ran prickling feet through me, setting my brain on fire.… My knees quivered and I stooped over, determined to keep my balance.
My vision wobbled and my stomach matched it. In an image bubble-thin and nearly as transparent I saw a hand before me—not my gloved one, but a small, bare hand with chubby fingers. It reached out to a dainty and cooling teacup, something that wriggled and squirmed pinched between its fleshy fingers. A face reflected back at me as I edged closer to the cup: soft child’s features contorted in glee, blue eyes grinning as much as his mouth.
He seemed familiar. I squinted, tried to get closer to him.…
“Derek!” a woman’s voice cried out, and I reeled back as the centipede he’d held dropped, writhing, into the cup and the image burst into a thousand glittering drops that evaporated and left me panting at the street corner.
I shuddered as the tickling sensation scuttled from my head and slithered in slow circles before settling into the base of my skull. Finally regaining control, I sucked down a sharp breath and stood straight again.
Derek. Dead, but not so gone.
Breathing deeply, I freed my cell phone. Alexi knew Derek had shot something into our heads during his death throes and he’d said we should tell him immediately if anything strange happened.
That little episode totally qualified as strange.
I pulled up his cell’s number. And drew down another breath. Steady, my finger hovered over the call button. But I didn’t press it.
Instead, I searched my brain for lingering weirdness—any other strange sensation. And I reminded myself that Alexi’s mother—well, his adoptive mother—had just died even though he’d done his damnedest to concoct a cure and save her.
How would he feel knowing I needed his help now? Besides, it was the first time it’d happened. It could be a fluke—maybe the only time. With that hope in mind, I hurried the rest of the way to the Grabbit Mart.
* * *
The Grabbit Mart on the corner—a little place that existed because of convenience, not competitive prices—was nearly empty. A man worked behind the counter handling the occasional gas customer and glancing at the domed security mirrors out of habit probably more than interest. He nodded at me as I pulled the door closed and adjusted my hat and scarf. Then he returned to swapping glances between the mirrors and the pumps.
I’d only been in once before, so it took me a minute to find their sparse stock of bread. Studying my choices, I was startled by the sudden appearance of someone else in the aisle. Slender, with close-cropped red hair, the guy approaching me had pinched features and a nose that pointed in a way that made me think he was as much fox as anything. I froze, and he looked in my direction as if he’d overheard my thoughts. He cocked his head. “Hey.”
I nodded and snagged an anonymous loaf, my eyes stuck on him.
He locked gazes with me and reached over to the opposite shelf. He grabbed three candy bars.
And shoved them into his coat pocket with a sly smile and a look that clearly dared me.
My eyes must’ve widened because as soon as my mouth opened, his smile slid to one side of his face and he whispered, “You wouldn’t rat me out, would you?” He tilted his head in the opposite direction and studied me, eyes bright. Taunting. “We all have our little secrets.” With a wink he spun on his heel and walked back down the aisle and out the door.