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“Mom, that was so cool when you rode the tiger!” James said, bouncing on his heels. “Can I ride him?”

The tiger grabbed him by the back of his shirt and started running, my boy dangling from his mouth. James shrieked but didn’t sound too upset by the kind of ride he was getting.

Jerome bounced up and down. “Me next! Me next!”

I shook my head and refocused on putting squirrels to sleep. Seriously, I didn’t want any more undead creatures waking me up in my bed. Ever again.

“So, what’s for dinner?” Sage asked.

Seriously? Couldn’t she see that I was mentally burying an army of vermin? I guess it was back to reality already. Almost.

“We’re ordering something fast and unhealthy,” I said then looked up at the man with his glowing face-tattoos. They were pink. So ridiculous but almost charming. “Unless you have moral views against it.”

My husband shook his head. “We need to talk.”

I squinted at him. “I’m putting squirrels to rest. We can talk later.”

“Let me take you to dinner and the kids can order in something unhealthy.”

“I can make healthy food,” Ray of Sunshine said, pulling his shoulders back and offering a tentative smile. Yes, look at me, I am the caretaker of Hoar House.

Donny rolled his eyes. “The healthiest food you make is pork-and-beans and corn.”

Ray’s usual scowl came back. “I found a cookbook in the library.”

“You’d trust a cookbook from the house?” Donny snorted.

Sage grabbed Ray and Donny and dragged them towards the house. “You don’t get it. When she offers junk food, you grab it and run. Thanks, Mom! I’ll order and use your credit card while you go out for a nice dinner with Dad. You should wear something that isn’t covered in mud.”

“What’s wrong with mud?” Uncle Claw said, with the undead monkey once more on his shoulder, but it was stiff now. Good. My laying-to-rest internal chant was working.

I refocused on the squirrels until they were all tucked beneath the earth, and then I let Scilla pull me into the house and up the stairs on slightly shaky legs.

“Take a bath, and I’ll find you something nice to wear,” she said, pushing me into the bathroom where the tub was already full with steam rising from the water. A cup of tea was sitting next to the tub on the small table, and for a second, I stood there in the bathroom, covered in mud but not blood.

That whole thing could’ve gone so much worse. His sister. He’d killed her just like that. I didn’t like her, but death was so permanent. Says the person who can raise the dead. But they’re not really themselves. Could I bring her back? No, I shouldn’t even think about that kind of thing. I wasn’t going to become the huge threat that so many people feared. Not a chance. So I’d have to let her lie and focus on getting slightly presentable.

I stripped and bathed, drank my decaf green tea, and tried not to think about pregnancy and twins and all the stress that would follow. But Clark wanted to talk. Had he decided that a divorce would actually work for him after all? Had killing his sister made him realize that he couldn’t be involved with another psycho witch? To be honest, this entire situation was utterly psychotic.

I took my time dressing, choosing a red dress with a black jacket and red heels. I used a dark red lip and felt like I was trying to find men to seduce. I wasn’t. Of course not. I’d already found the only man I’d ever want. Even if he had face-tattoos. And what did that say about me? How the mighty have fallen? Maybe something about me learning to accept who people were on the inside instead of external appearances. Or maybe how tired I was that I’d stopped caring about what other people thought. Yes, probably the last one. And I was going to be tired for the next twenty years.

I sighed and walked down the stairs and found Clark, or Peregrine, or Mr. Teeth with his face-tattoos, small eyes on his cheekbones in the cross point of two bisecting glowing lines that ran up over each cheek. He was also wearing a sports coat that made him look almost civilized. Was I getting used to face-tattoos? Impossible, and yet, what about my life was remotely possible? Pregnant? I couldn’t even.

“Have fun, stay safe, don’t drink and drive,” Uncle Claw said, leaning out of the kitchen to wave at us.

I stared at him. “Are you sure you won’t kill everyone while we’re gone?”

“In your house after your husband spent however long feeding life and strength into the old thing? Hardly. Also…” He gestured at the bear in his position beneath the stairs, arms raised and ready to attack.

I frowned at Clark.

“If he didn’t kill you, he won’t kill them.”

Was that comforting? Maybe. I expected to take the car, but Clark swept me up in his arms, summoned the same pearlescent oval from earlier, and then stepped through, coming out in an alley around the corner from my favorite restaurant.

We came here for most anniversaries. He set me down abruptly and turned, walking ahead of me toward the sidewalk before I got the chance to catch my breath. He wasn’t wearing his Clark person, just this other…and he got noticed.

The waiter took one look at him and didn’t ask if we had a reservation. “Right this way, sir,” he said, and led us to a very nice table tucked into a corner where we could see both entrances.