Page 54 of Last Call at the Doghouse

As they walked away Mitch told the girls to get to school. Then he looked at her, squeezed the hand he held, and said, “Maybe you aren’t willing to step aside, but by God if I can find another shield to do this…”

He didn’t have a chance to say more because they turned a corner and almost ran into a pack of three women out for a brisk walk. None of them even glanced in Armi’s direction, a clear sign that the pall had not yet been lifted. All three of the women had an obvious splash of color in their hair, much like Armi’s. Red, white, dark purple. The appearance of these streaks was the subject of conversation.

One of the women was Travis’s wife, Eve.

CHAPTER 18

Mystic Springs celebrated everything, including each equinox or solstice. It was a part of the town, something Armi remembered from her childhood, but she’d forgotten how intense the festivals could be. The precise time of the solstice was 8:04 p.m., but the celebration had begun early in the day. Businesses were closed, even though Saturdays were normally the best day of the week for sales. There would be food, music, dancing, and displays of magic. This year there was even a bouncy house for the little kids set up on The Egg front lawn.

Armi and Mitch had taken a morning walk through town, watching the preparations for the day. There were a few solemn faces in the crowd, but most Springers had no idea what would happen at the end of the day. They’d always been divided on the subject of keeping magic in or letting it fly free. No need to reopen the debate.

Some felt so strongly, Armi couldn’t guarantee she’d live to see the equinox if the plan was common knowledge.

They stopped by the mural and found a complete mess. What had once looked like a Grandma Moses painting was now more like Grandma had given birth to a baby with Jackson Pollack. A few human-like figures were there, but frankly, the painting was a mess. Figures were indistinct. Colors seemed to be splashed randomly here and there.

She could make out the birds, though, lots of them. Those birds were small and large, brightly colored and gray. There were so many they blotted out one entire side of town.

What did that mean?

What did it matter?

Armi didn’t feel much like celebrating. After a stroll through town, she and Mitch walked back to the little cabin and spent the rest of the morning enjoying the solitude and each other. Mitch still thought running away was an option, or he had until somewhere around lunch time. After that he’d gotten quiet. Too quiet. She knew the way his mind worked. He was trying to come up with a plan to save her.

She’d given up on the idea of a fix. Maybe there were other shields who could take her place, but how could she ask someone else—maybe someone who had their whole lives ahead of them, children, husbands, friends—to make a sacrifice she would not? She had children, but they were grown. And ass that he was, they’d still have their father. She had friends. Not many, but Mitch and Stella would miss her when she was gone. Maybe Mary, too, but that likely depended on whether or not Sonny’s hold on her lived on after tonight.

She was at peace with what was meant to be, but it was clear Mitch was not.

The couch in the main room of the cabin was old. It sagged in the middle, but she didn’t mind that. It just meant when she and Mitch sat there, they had no choice but to drift closer. His arm draped snuggly around her; she leaned on him.

“Promise me you won’t do anything drastic,” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like drugging me and throwing me into your truck to make a getaway before 8:04. Locking me in a closet. Tying me up in the kitchen.”

He growled, a little. “A couple of those ideas crossed my mind.” He looked down at her, kissed her, and finished with, “But no matter how much I hate this, it’s your decision and I won’t take that from you.”

The seconds dragged, ticking by in slow motion. She didn’t want to die; she’d never thought of herself as the sacrificing kind. But it was time.

“Let’s go,” she said, extricating herself from Mitch’s arms and rising. “The Milhouse Brothers are playing this afternoon. They’re pretty good, and some music before…” She hesitated. “Music would be nice. Maybe you’ll even dance with me.”

“I’m a terrible dancer.” Mitch stood slowly and took her in his arms. He kissed her again and she reveled in it. His kisses were stellar. They were the best mental getaway she’d ever experienced. When he broke the kiss he said, “I’m not ready to lose you.”

“I’m not ready to be lost,” she whispered.

She wasn’t ready, but it was almost time.

* * *

Mary watched Sonny pace. He’d stop now and then and stare into the fire, then curse and stomp his feet like a child having a tantrum.

A couple of times he muttered, “Nothing has changed. Why hasn’t anything changed?”

She’d been in and out of the downstairs parlor several times since getting out of bed this morning, but with Sonny in such a bad mood she didn’t care to stay close to him for long. His mood had not improved as the day wore on. If anything, it was getting worse.

But she was bored. She hated to be bored! When she’d suggested a little afternoon delight might take Sonny’s mind off of unpleasant things, he’d almost hit her.

Almost. In the end he’d simply shrugged her off, pushed her away.