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"You gave me the forget potion," I whispered to Jenks. "Why?" I gestured helplessly. "Was it worth all this? I want to know who did it!"
"Talk, pixy!" Ivy barked as she spun. Her pupils were dilated, and red spotted her cheeks.
Jenks stood miserably before us, black dust sifting from him. "I had to." He backed up, his wings fa
Ivy slumped with her elbow on the counter and her forehead in her cupped hand. Her hair hid her face, and I wondered what she was feeling. Damn it, it wasn't fair. We had done it, managed a balance, and then my memory had to return and screw it all up.
"That vampire would have killed you," Jenks begged. "I thought if you just forgot, time would take care of everything. You're not bound, so everything's okay! It's okay, Rache!"
I prayed Jenks was right, but a shiver ran through me as I put a hand to my neck and covered my bites. God help me, I've never felt this vulnerable. I had been playing with vampires. I'd believed I had been bound. I couldn't…I couldn't do this anymore.
Ivy took a ragged breath. Her brow furrowed, and as she stood upright, I saw an i
I looked at Jenks. My life sucks.
Tired, I leaned back against the sink and tried to figure it out. I didn't feel good. I was ru
"Jenks," I said breathily, looking at the salt-strewn kitchen. "I'm going to my mom's. Keasley, I'm sorry. I have to go."
Feeling airy and unreal, light-headed, I pushed past the solemn witch and followed the creeping path of the water into the hallway. I was headed for the door, and I grabbed my bag in passing. I couldn't stay here. My mom might just be nuts enough to understand and sane enough to help. Besides, she might know a charm to reverse a forget potion. And then Ivy and I were going to nail Kisten's killer to a broomstick.
Fourteen
My mom's kitchen had changed since the last time I'd sat at the table eating cereal. A strong herb scent was heavy in the air, though I didn't see any. There weren't any spell pots or ceramic spoons in the sink either, but the redwood smell rolling off of her when she'd answered the door in her fuzzy leopard-print robe told me that she'd been spelling heavily recently.
Now she smelled like lilac, with only the faintest aroma of redwood to mar it. I thought it fu
The afternoon light coming in the kitchen window was bright as I sat glum and weary, eating cereal out of a cracked bowl in my usual spot. Lucky Charms. I didn't know which was more disturbing, the possibility that the box was the same one from the last time I'd had breakfast here, or the possibility that it wasn't.
My gaze shifted to the pile of supermarket tabloids that my mother loved, and I tugged one out of the pile when MOURNING SISTER FINDS KITTY LITTER IN TWIN'S URN caught my eye. Below it was a short article on Cincy's colorful history of grave robbing and how bodies were again turning up missing on both sides of the river. A frown came over me. There was only one reason why cremated bodies were replaced with kitty litter—an offering of mortal ashes kept a summoned demon from appearing out of place, like outside the circle. I usually didn't bother with it, but the demons generally crashed my life, not the other way around.
The reminder of Al prompted me to tug my bag across the table. I hadn't given my mother a reason for showing up and falling into an exhausted sleep on top of my old coverlet on my bed. Depression had replaced my fear at the thought that I'd been bound, and the begi
Rummaging in my bag, I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen. I had called Jenks the moment I'd woken up to check on Ivy. She was depressed, he said, which was workable. I wasn't looking forward to going back to the church and trying to patch things up. I didn't know what I was going to say. Despite everything, I was still happy that she was there. Maybe we could just ignore that she'd put four new holes in my neck and that I'd flaked out believing I'd been bound to Kisten's killer. I sighed as I checked the time.
It was just after three, and still no call from Gle
The clock above the sink ticked, and I listened to the ugly thing while I scrolled through my short list for David's number. Robbie and I had bought the clock for Mother's Day ages ago, when we still thought the bug-eyed witch whose gaze and broom swept back and forth in time with the ticks was cool. There was a spot of white ceramic where the paint had chipped off the broom when it had fallen, and I wondered why she still had it. It was really, really nasty.
My attention went back to the phone when the line clicked open and David's confident hello filled my ear. "Hi, David," I said. "Got anything yet?"
I heard him hesitate, then ask cautiously, "Didn't your mom tell you?"
He knows I'm at my mom's? "Uh, no," I said, scrambling. "How do you know I'm at my mom's?"
David chuckled. "She answered your cell phone this afternoon while you were sleeping. We had a nice chat. Your mom is…different."
Different. How politically correct could you get? "Thanks," I said dryly. "I take it we're not going out this afternoon?" If it had been otherwise, I thought she would have woken me. Maybe.
"I've got the claim sitting on my desk," he said, and I heard papers rustling. "Tomorrow at two is the earliest I could nail the woman to a time." He hesitated, then quietly offered, "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to settle this today, but that's the best I could get."
I sighed and looked at the clock again. The idea of hiding in my church another night had all the appeal of painting Trent's toenails. I wouldn't be able to avoid Ivy either. "Two tomorrow is great," I said, thinking I ought to use the time to stock my charm cupboard for an assault on black witches. I'd have to move everything to hallowed ground, though. What a pain in the butt. "Thanks, David," I said when I remembered I was in the middle of a conversation. "I really think it's them."
"Me, too. I'll pick you up tomorrow at one. Get yourself dolled up, will you?" he said, amusement heavy in his voice. "I'm not taking you out in leather again."