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‘Not yet,’ she said.
Are you a prognosticator, now?’
The clouds reflected in the cerulean of his eyes, like a portent of things to come. Dee tried not to shiver. ‘Nah. I just know the weather here. Come on.’
‘Will you go to France with me when we get back?’
He was smiling. She did her best to smile back. ‘Only if we can bring Lizzie, Mare, and Pywackt.’
‘All of them?’
‘Well, it wouldn’t be fair if I saw Montmartre and they didn’t. Besides, Py’s always had a hankering to see France. He collects Edith Piaf records.’
Da
Somehow they ended up hand in hand. Dee didn’t mind. She relished the feel of his callused fingers as they wound around hers. The sense of belonging. It was nice for a moment to just pretend she was doing nothing more than taking a walk with her honey.
It was Saturday. A chorus of lawnmowers serenaded the street. A couple of kids were skateboarding beneath the overgrown elm trees that lined the sidewalk. Pete Semple had his garage open and was hammering on something. Mrs Ledbetter hurried past with an armful of groceries. Nobody paid attention to Dee and Da
Dee rubbed at her shoulder again, wondering what she’d been thinking to believe she was brave.
‘Has Xan called you again?’ she asked.
‘You want her to?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I want her to do. It just matters that she doesn’t hurt you.’
Da
‘No we haven’t,’ she said. ‘Not really. It’s why it’s important we have it now. Has she called?’
‘No. Should she?’
‘I imagine she will, and when she does I need you to tell me right away. I’m not exactly sure what her strategy is this time. I just know she has to be stopped. Which is why I’m talking to you now.’
‘I guess I still don’t understand.’
‘Well, I hope I’m going to clear it up for you.’
Because above and beyond the obvious dilemma, if Dee couldn’t prove what she was, he would never understand what a threat Xan was. Not just to her and her sisters. To him. Xan would delight in breaking Da
‘What do you need to tell me?’ he asked.
‘I’m a shapeshifter.’
Good God, where had that come from? Hi, my name is Dee and I’m a shapeshifter. I’ll be taking questions now.
She wouldn’t have been surprised if Da
‘My sister Lizzie changes silverware into shoes,’ Dee said before she could chicken out. ‘My sister Mare can rearrange furniture without using her hands. My mother could tell the future, and Xan can… well, you saw what she could do this morning. We’ve had these gifts since we were young. Well, actually, since puberty. For the women they arrive then and then wane… change at menopause. I think that’s why Aunt Xan is on the warpath again. She’s just about that age, and I think it terrifies her.’
Da
‘She wasn’t there, Da
‘And you, uh, shift into…’
She rubbed a finger between her eyes, where a headache was blooming. ‘It depends. I’m still working on control. When you came yesterday morning, you remember the owl sitting on the table?’
His smile had long gone. Now he was looking nervous. ‘Yeah?’
She did her best to smile. ‘Twee. Twee.’
Brandon Upshot rode by on his paper route and almost clipped Da
Suddenly he gri
Dee pulled her hand away. He could have at least tried. She’d already turned for home when he caught hold of her -unfortunately by her right shoulder, which made her yelp.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
‘Nothing. I think it’s just time for me to go home.’ Especially since her shoulder had started to burn the minute he’d touched it. Maybe she should have somebody look at it.
‘No, really,’ he said, frowning over her back. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’
And before she could protest, he’d pulled her cardigan and T-shirt down far enough to make her blush.
‘Dee?’
‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘It’s a butterfly. It’s a symbol of, oh, I don’t know. Having the courage to fly. Well, I fly all the time. I didn’t need an insect on my back to help me. I’ll probably be the only hawk with a butterfly on its back. All the other hawks will laugh at me.’
He was smiling. ‘It’s beautiful. And so small. I really like the color’
Dee turned, trying to see. ‘Color? It’s black.’
‘It’s green.’
Which made Dee shake her head. ‘Of course.’
She tugged her clothes back up. ‘We’ve gotten off topic, Da
He flailed a bit, shoving his hand through his hair. ‘You’re asking a lot, Dee.’
‘I know.’ She was asking everything. ‘Believe me. Will you come to the house?’
‘Of course.’
She nodded. He took her hand again and they walked on. The trees were begi
They reached the house to find it dark and empty. Lizzie had obviously cleaned, because there wasn’t anything out of place. The only thing Dee heard was the throb of complete silence.
Something was wrong, though. Off. Dee stopped in the middle of the living room floor, but she heard nothing but her own steps echo off the hardwood. She thought to call out, but Lizzie’s door was closed. She looked hard into the shadowy corners without seeing anything. She took a sniff.
Ah, that was it. It was the power signature in the air. She caught Mare’s licorice and a whiff of Lizzie, gardenia and roses. And there, underlying it, a new scent. A tang of spices that made her think of something ancient and powerful and beautiful. She looked toward the bedrooms. Even though she couldn’t hear anything, she felt it. Power. Hell, there should have been waves of purple wafting out from beneath the door.
Was Lizzie here? Was she okay? Was it this Elric she was sensing?
‘She’s fine,’ Da
Dee turned on him. ‘Could you at least wait for me to say it out loud?’
‘You did.’
‘No, Da
‘I hear it. Like I heard the witches. This gives me a good feeling. A… hmmm, wow. Whatever she’s been up to, she’s enjoying it.’
‘Well, thanks for putting that image in my head.’ His grin was impish. ‘You wanted me to believe I can hear things.’
‘I just don’t want to hear what you’re hearing. Not about my little sister’
‘From what I saw of her, she’s not so little.’
Dee physically turned him for the stairs. ‘Come on. I brought you here to see my studio. Not eavesdrop on my sister’
Dee’s studio shared the second floor with Mare’s bedroom. Fourteen steps up and a slide of the hand along the banister from the outside world to hers. She had no control over the outside world. The downstairs rooms were kept fairly anonymous. Even her own bedroom was nondescript. Pale gray walls, black duvet, and thrift store dresser. Zen, Lizzie called it. Disinterested was the truth. What was the point of decorating a room that would see such uninspiring use? Dee saved all her whimsy for her studio.
She climbed the fourteenth step and led the way into her room. She flipped the light and held her breath.