What he really meant was, Tell me you didn’t put me through that for nothing. I had no doubt he’d suffered everything I had. I wished I could apologize, but that would imply regret, and I’d do the same thing again.

I related what I’d seen in bare-bones terms. There was no point in expressing how bad it had been; Jesse knew, and the other two had some idea, based on my reaction after.

“So,” I concluded, “they performed a ritual around my mother’s body.” It hurt so much to speak the truth. “She killed herself before they came in.”

No wonder I’d never felt even a whisper of her. According to nearly every religion’s lore, suicides went straight to the worst circle in hell—and they didn’t get day passes to come whisper reassurances to the living.

“Why would she?” Shannon asked.

I could only shrug. “To prevent them from getting whatever they wanted from her?”

“Power?” Jesse guessed. “If so, it could be a black coven.”

I remembered my mother warning me of those who drained magickal gifts and took them as their own. She’d called them ghouls, though they began as human beings. The process awoke an incessant hunger, so once they began to eat the magick of others, they could never be satiated.

The idea didn’t wholly explain things. As far as I knew, she had never revealed how much she could do. Between the orchard and the garden, we’d been close to self-sufficient, and she only made charms and potions on request: minor things, low magick. So why would a black coven decide she had enough to risk exposure in taking her? It didn’t add up.

“Why?” I asked, frustrated. “What did they hope to gain?”

“I bet it has to do with that monster in the woods,” Shannon muttered.

“Have you seen it?” With some effort, I hauled myself into a sitting position.

Shannon hesitated. “Yeah. Well, sort of. I felt it more than saw anything. We cut school and meant to get wasted out there. When it got all dark and still, Robert Walker pissed his pants. He was small and slow, kind of timid. We all ran back to where we’d parked the cars and they wouldn’t start.” She shivered, remembering. “I thought we’d never get out. It felt like the thing was playing with us, enjoying it more when we ran.”

“Did you all make it out?” Jesse asked.

She shook her head slowly. “Rob never came home.”

Poor kid. She’s had a hell of a life.

“When was this?” Chance sat forward, carrying me with him.

“Last April.” She considered for a moment. “April nineteenth. With all the weirdness and disappearances, it’s just not safe here anymore.”

As if it ever was.

But Dale Graham was right about one thing. Events were definitely escalating.

“In my experience,” Jesse murmured, “you just don’t get an evil monster running amok without somebody raising it.”

I sensed Chance’s agreement even before he spoke. “So the question is, who summoned it, and why?”

I intended to ask Miss Minnie that very question tonight.

Dinner Plans

To my amazement, Shannon brought me a present before I ever stumbled out of bed. The silver chain glimmered in my hand like a sliver of starlight. Somehow, she’d managed to remove all the years of tarnish and filth. My mother’s necklace looked like new—even the delicate curves of the flower pentacle.

“Thank you so much. But how did you—”

“Jesse gave it to me while you were out. He thought you might like to wear it.”

A sensitive, yet practical gift. Yeah, that was Jesse all the way down to the ground. He’d known I’d love to have the necklace restored, but giving it to Shannon to deal with made her feel useful and distracted her from worrying about me.

“It looks beautiful. I can’t believe how good you made it look.”

“Basic science,” she said with a shrug. “All you need is baking soda, salt, boiling water, and aluminum foil in a pan.” I could tell she was pleased with my reaction, though, despite her ostensible indifference.

“Would you mind helping me put it on?”

In answer, she leaned in and deftly fastened it around my neck. A little spark ran through me at her touch, reminding me that I needed to talk to her about her gift. “Did you notice that when we touched?”

“The static?”

I shook my head. “Wrong. That’s how Gifted people identify one another. If you touch Jesse, you’d get the same reaction.”

She seemed skeptical. “Yeah? It looked like static to me.”

Reminding myself to be patient, I explained, “Growing up in Kilmer, you wouldn’t know this any more than I did, but there’s a subsection of the populace who can do weird and amazing things, just like we can. If you let me, I can put you in touch with them.”

“You’re for real about this.” Despite her amazement, it wasn’t a question.

“Absolutely. You saw what I can do. Jesse feels what other people feel.”

“Duh. Empathy.” She spoke with a scorn that emphasized her youth.

Ah, bravado. I remembered it well. “Right. And there are more folks like us out there. If you accept me, I’ll be your mentor, teaching you as Jesse teaches me. We’re both fresh out of the woods, so to speak.”

“What does that even mean? Mentor?”

Not too long ago, I’d been asking the same thing. “I’ll help you when you need it. Answer questions. Basically it means I’ve got your back.”

A rare smile creased her thin cheeks. “I’m down with that.”

That taken care of, I hauled myself off the mattress. I shuffled toward the bathroom. I needed a shower to wash away the stench of the ruin that had nearly claimed me. As I came out of the bedroom, I heard the low murmur of voices that told me the guys were in the parlor.

It took every ounce of my strength to step into the tub. For a moment, I clung to the tiled wall, feeling shaky and nauseated. If I had any sense, I wouldn’t push myself; I’d been tested as never before. But then, if I had any sense, we probably would’ve left Kilmer as soon as the mauled dog ran into the road.

I washed up in stages, sometimes pausing to rest in between. Cursing my long hair, I managed to lather and rinse it. Good thing I had some leave-in conditioner with me. I didn’t think I was up to rinsing a second time.

My knees nearly buckled as I came out of the shower. Blindly I felt for the towel Chance had brought me a few days before. I’d hung it on a hook to dry, and happily, it was still there. Shivering, I wrapped myself in it. Brushing my teeth helped steady me too. There was nothing like waking up with the taste of revisited breakfast in your mouth. Once I finished in the bathroom, I traveled back down the hall toward my room, holding on to the wall.

The bedroom was empty when I got back. I guessed Shannon had gone to hang with the guys. I layered in getting dressed: panties, black peasant skirt, red camisole with built-in bra, and black sweater. I’d never be a fashion plate, but I liked being able to strip down if I got too warm. Dizzy from the movement, I sat down on the edge of the mattress and touched my mother’s necklace.

That reminded me.

“Call your mother,” I called to Chance.

“Already did,” he answered. “She’s fine.”

One worry put to bed, at least. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I checked my cell phone. When I unearthed it, I had voice mail waiting. I dialed, input my code, and listened:

Corine, it’s Booke. Call me when you get a chance. I have some news.

A computer told me I had another message, and then I heard Chuch’s voice:

Wanted to make sure you’re okay, prima. That cop called here asking about you. Now he’s gone lookin’, and I haven’t heard from either of you. Call me back, or Eva will have my ass.

Before we went out and lost service again, I needed to get in touch. I started with Booke. Doing the time conversion, I realized it would be evening there, not that I’d wake him, no matter what time I called. I wasn’t sure he ever slept.

He answered on the first ring, a sure sign he’d been waiting for my call. “Corine?”

“Yep,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I think I’ve figured out why your cell phone only worked in the library.”

Hm. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we’d been banned from the library, and events had outpaced his research. I tried to sound encouraging. “Really? Why?”

His rich, educated voice warmed with the interest he felt toward his subject matter. “Protective sigils are etched into the top of the building; very interesting ones too, from a rare Hermetic tradition, harking back to the Emerald Tablet of Hermes, but also incorporating writings from the Rosicrucian—”

“Good work.” I felt bad about interrupting, but he would give me onerous detail if I let him. “That’s a pretty strange find for a small town in Georgia,” I added.

“To say the least,” he agreed. “It looks to me like there used to be a steeple in the center as well. Is there any possibility the library once served as a church?”

I considered. “It’s down near the old courthouse, so I’m going to say yes. Land records would probably tell us for sure.”

If we hadn’t been banned from the library.

“At any rate, that building was blessed and protected at some point.”

Which didn’t save poor old John McGee. We should probably remember that before putting too much faith in our own wards.

“Anything else I should know?”

“I’m still working on discovering what spell would suck a town into a black hole and create an equivalent dark spot in the ether,” he told me.

I wished him luck with that, thanked him, and rang off. I needed to call Chuch and let him know I was still breathing. That didn’t take long. He seemed glad to hear from me, and warned me that things in Texas were still hot as a nest of scorpions. Montoya had guys looking for me and Chance, he said, and it would be smart of us to stay out of sight.

That trouble felt distant at the moment, so I told him to give Eva my love, and then made my last call. Senor Alvarez reported that the store was doing well, he was taking good care of my plants, and I shouldn’t worry about things at home. I wished that had relieved me, but I wanted to book a flight right then. I didn’t want Alvarez starting to feel comfortable in my pawnshop or in the life I’d built. I wanted to get back to it.

But I couldn’t until I finished things here.

Before leaving the bedroom, I plaited my long hair into a single French braid running down my back and secured it with a nylon band. I found the others waiting for me in the parlor. To a soul, they bore the same concerned expression. Even Butch lifted his head from where he was napping and gave me a worried glance.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Just a bit shaky. I’m sure a home-cooked meal at Miss Minnie’s will work wonders.”

None of them looked convinced, but they didn’t argue. Instead I packed up Butch’s food and water dishes, along with some kibble. Depending on what Miss Minnie put in the soup, it might not be good for the dog. Not that he’d mind. Dogs tended not to care about their health when food was at stake.