“Every stop is a chance to save the world.” Wilson moved to his sister next. She wasn’t as willing, eyeing the garlic long enough for him to set the bowl in front of her, leaving her alone in the hesitation.
“I don’t know about saving the world.” I laughed a little at Wilson’s assessment. At some point, I would have believed in it. Nowadays, saying I or anyone else in the Guild had come close to saving the world felt too egotistical. “But making lives a little easier, sure.”
“You’re modest,” he noted.
Octavia choked. I looked up from the last set of silverware I put down to find she hadn’t even touched the garlic yet. She avoided my gaze, turning her attention to folding linen napkins. Her ghost of a smile made my own lips curve upward.
Wilson passed out the rosemary next. I watched Esther and him down it.
“I can’t work unless you take them,” I told Octavia as I took a seat at the table.
“Wouldn’t you know if I were possessed by now?” She claimed the seat across from me, pulling the bowl of garlic and rosemary in front of her. “Didn’t you say there are obvious signs?”
“Most times there are. But there’s more evidence every day that some of our methods of detection are not as effective as we once believed. I don’t like to just trust my eyes.”
“Because sometimes people look like they’re possessedwhen in actuality, they’re on something,” Octavia said. “Drugs can dilate pupils and cause erratic moods.”
I nodded slowly, not sure where she was trying to go. “Sometimes.”
“And sometimes people get sick. Get rashes that look supernaturally awful but are just extreme reactions.”
“Sure.” I offered a half shrug. “And sometimes they’re being torn apart inside, and on the outside everything appears normal.”
“How did you all come to the conclusion that garlic and rosemary were the litmus test for possession?” Octavia picked up the rosemary, turning it around to inspect the thin leaves.
I tracked her finger rubbing up and down the leaves. Her movements were gentle, as if she didn’t plan on doing anything other than returning the plant to the earth. “I’ve been told the rosemary was accidental. A woman in the country with a greenhouse and a daughter who came home from school possessed. The garlic information was passed on by a shifter who wanted to help.”
Octavia picked up a piece of garlic, holding it up to the light as she inspected the thin lines stretching along its sides.
“I don’t blindly trust what’s in front of me,” I said. “I’m glad you don’t either.”
The comment urged a subtle softening in Octavia’s eyes. She studied me for a moment, trying to pick past my exterior in the same way I wanted to do hers.
She slipped the garlic into her mouth. I watched as she chewed quickly. Her throat bobbed as confirmation slid down. I was so caught up with how soft her lips looked while her mouth parted for the rosemary that I didn’t realize the others had joined us, filling the table withpots and plates of warm food. Octavia kept eye contact with me as she finished chewing.
“Clear?” she asked. Her lip twitched slightly in one direction, an almost smile that harbored knowing.
I blinked, coming back to myself and a room that was too warm and too crowded.
“All clear.” I nodded.
Now, we could get to work.
FIVE
The storm passed through,leaving behind a dense, red glow in the evening sky. I stared out the living room window, studying the overgrown front yard and trying to keep my breathing steady.
My jaw ached from how hard I’d been clenching my molars since stepping back onto Elmwood premises. I massaged my fingers, a poor attempt to ease my restlessness.
It shouldn’t be like this.The phrase repeated in my head, some frustrating teenage version of myself moping about how unfair life was. How, after defying all the odds of owning a place of my own, I faced the possibility of losing it.
“I’ll get Octavia to show you.” Wilson was in the kitchen, throwing questions at our guests. He’d even tugged out a legal pad at dinner, scratching down their responses between bites.
Once dinner finished, everyone lingered at the table, sitting in front of their empty plates, exchanging jokes and getting as warm and comfortable with one another as the stove was with the rest of the house.
“Via?” Wilson wheeled into the living room, his face still bright from a laugh he’d just had.
I turned away from the window, tugging my hand away from the loose end of my loc.
