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“Yes. I think we all were. Salem is not a good place to be right now.”
“I talked to Shane McTavish this morning . . . you remember him from high school?”
At Rowan’s blank look, Abigail made a face. “He played football with Kellen. The wide receiver?”
Rowan shrugged, and Abigail made a disgusted sound. “How can you not remember him? He was the most gorgeous guy in high school. Tall, with long dark hair and the most amazing eyes.”
“He sure as heck made an impression on you.”
“Hell yeah. We necked at a victory game party once. It was the highlight of my night, but he was so drunk that he didn’t even remember me the next day.”
Ah, football and beer rarely mixed well.
“So what about him?”
“Anyway, he’s on the police force now if you can believe it, which is weird because he was always in trouble.”
“Must be why you liked him so much.”
Abigail guffawed, a wholehearted laugh that filled up the emptiness in the room. The sound lightened Rowan’s heart a little. “He was the guy that stole the Griphon’s mascot, remember? No? Well, whatever.”
Rowan smiled, listening to Abigail. One thing about most James women—they liked to talk.
“I ran into him at the coffee shop this morning on my way back here. He told me they had more calls last night than ever before, and a lot of them were violent . . . domestics, etc. He also said several women had been raped.” She shook her head. “It’s really, really bad out there, and Samhain is still over a week away. How are we going to keep all these people safe until then?”
“We’ll do it the old-fashioned way—the Buffy way. By patrolling every night and killing anything that isn’t human.”
Abigail nodded, her hands still stroking the satisfied tabby, and Rowan knew this wasn’t the reason for her cousin’s need to chat.
“So, I had tea with Auntie Marie a while ago.”
Rowan’s lips tightened. Here we go. “And?”
“Well, she seems . . . good. Really good. Her mind is clear.”
“For now.” Anger unfurled within her gut. “Until she decides that the bottom of a vodka bottle is something she needs to see again.” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth, but she was helpless to control it. “We’ll see how long this lasts.”
Abigail frowned. “But isn’t that what you want?”
“I only care about its lasting until Samhain.”
Abigail sat up, and the cat meowed, unhappy with the sudden lack of attention. “Rowan, that’s an awful thing to say. She may have screwed up a lot in her life, but she is your mother, and everyone deserves a second chance.”
“You’re right. Except Marie-Noelle passed her second second chance years ago.”
“Rowan, what did she do that was so bad? The woman had an addiction problem. A lot of people have addiction problems. It’s not that uncommon.”
Rowan stared at her cousin, suddenly weak from the emotion pummeling away inside her. “You have no idea,” she whispered. “No one does, not even Kellen.”
Abigail was silent for a moment, twirling the piece of pink hair between her fingers. “Then tell me.”
Rowan sighed and glanced out the window. “It wasn’t just that she had an addiction. It’s what she did because of it.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection and closed her eyes. “She stole from Nana. Performed illegal magick for drug money. She sold our clothes, our furniture.” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she whispered, “She sold herself.”
“Ro—”
Rowan wiped at her face angrily and turned to face her cousin. “She tried to sell me to a goblin who wanted to bed a virgin. He’d promised her unlimited access to the drug of her choice.”
Shock swept across Abigail’s face like a lightning strike. “Oh, Rowan.”
