“Back in a minute—!” I shout around a mouthful of cookie.
Refusing to dwell on this newest mortification, I dash from the kitchen. Only when I’m safely in the foyer and free of the Warlock’s heavy stare do I swallow the godforsaken cookie and check my phone.
Erg. Speak of the Hugo Boss devil. After Oris Webb’s visit, I don’t have the patience for another man wasting my time right now, especially my mom’s (not gonna happen) replacement. But I can’t look the Warlock in the eye just yet. Or ever again.
“Hey,” I answer, hoping it sounds likeThanks, goodbye.
“Hi—wait. Do you actually have my number saved as a real contact now?” Silas’s voice comes through, recognizable but staticky.
“… Maybe.” I already regret answering. F minus in avoidant millennial, Frost.
“Does this mean we’re friends?”
“Are you even allowed to make new friends in your thirties? It’s probably breaking a rule of some kind.”
“You are in your thirties, remember?” he drawls.
“Andthatkind of language is why we aren’t friends.”
“Listen, I’m outside Knight Manor but can’t get close enough to the doorbell to ring it. The house seems to have warding, like Carolina has around your mom’s room—”
“We have a doorbell?”
“Honey.”
“Right, sorry, one sec.”
Once again, I find myself the unintentional sentry of the farmhouse’s increasingly busy entryway. Silas Key stands at the base of the front porch steps, a few paces from his parked hybrid. He’s in yet another three-piece number, even on a Sunday evening. Pinstripes.
I cross my arms. “Estate planning couldn’t wait until Monday?”
“Please, I don’t spend my waking hours nudging your mother toward death’s door. You do a fine enough job at that yourself.” His eyes stick to the gloomy exterior of the farmhouse. It does look pretty menacing at dusk.
“I’m perfectly safe here.”
“Right. Listen, if this Warlock has answers that might help Marigold recover, you’ve got my full support. But do not ask me to lie to your mother. She even knows when I haven’t paid for parking. She can smell deceit.”
His vote of confidence is unexpected. Appreciated? But it also means there’s no denying how desperate we are, howlast chancethis last chance really is.
“I’mfine. And she knows this is just a temporary position. Thatpays.”
“Ah. I’m guessing you’re thinking of the latest hospital bills.”
“Did you know health insurance is a scam?” Then it occurs to me Silas is here, in person,on a Sunday. Panic slaps a shiver right across my neck. “Silas, my mom—”
“She’sfine. Relatively. You know, I don’tonlyshow up for bad news.”
The nervous adrenaline thins in my veins.She’s okay, she’s okay. The relief tastes better than any animal cracker.
“I came to give you a heads-up, off the record. Pastor Webb is using the Widow Witch’s absence to get folks riled up, and everyone’s more nervous than ever. I’ve heard his sermons are leaning hard against magic.Allmagic. He’s taken to preaching out in the town square.”
“That isexactlybad news, Silas. Why didn’t you just tell me this over the phone? Afraid my mom is tapping our cells?”
“Do you think your mom knows how to tap a phone line?”
Good point. “Next time, text me.”
“Would you have answered?”
