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“You did, but I figured you’ve had time to reflect, and that maybe you decided to direct some of your anger at me.”
Her face softened. “There’s no anger, Lorelei. Not at you. A little at them.” She paused. “Maybe even a little at me, for not taking action sooner. There are days I think I could’ve prevented what happened. Then I remember what an iron will my mother had, and I laugh at my hubris. She would’ve killed me before she’d let me get in her way.”
I sipped my tea. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Not all women are meant to be mothers. I drew an unlucky straw.”
So had I, albeit for different reasons.
“The tea is very good,” I said. I’d learned to be a polite teenager, each time hopeful that the current household would be mine until I turned eighteen.
“Thank you. I’m fond of ginger. I use it in as many recipes as I do spells.”
I tapped on the sides of the teacup. “Speaking of spells…”
She smiled. “I bet you need an upgraded ward, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, that’s probably true, but not the reason I’m here.” I told her about the sleep issues.
“And you’re wondering whether a spell could accomplish this?”
“I’ve considered a few that could, but none of them seem exactly right.” Not to mention I had no idea who might be casting it and why.
She contemplated the remaining tea in her cup. “Has there been a rise in nighttime burglaries? Maybe the spell is intended to keep homeowners in a deep sleep, so they don’t wake up and catch the intruders.”
“I considered that, but to my knowledge, nothing’s been taken, and there’s been no evidence of a break-in.” It would’ve been a death sentence for the would-be burglar. The pack would’ve responded with territorial violence.
Phaedra peered at me over the rim of her teacup. “I assume you’re not here to ask if I have anything to do with it.”
“Not at all. Promise.”
She seemed to accept my answer. “I can think of a handful of spells off the top of my head that would have the same effect, but I can’t think of a motive.”
“All witch magic?”
She shook her head. “Fae and mage, too.” She set down her delicate cup. “Have you asked any of them?”
“It doesn’t seem like mage magic. That tends to be more personal.” Which was one reason they made excellent assassins.
“It could be a glitch. A spell that went awry.”
“It’s possible.”
Phaedra observed me. “But you think unlikely.”
I nodded. “If we knew the purpose, it would be easier to determine the source, but all I’ve got are a list of cranky, sleep-deprived residents.”
“Any humans among them, or are they all supernatural?”
“I’m not one hundred percent certain. Chief Garcia mentioned accidents and domestic disputes triggered by sleep issues. They could all be supernaturals.”
“Or those could be human.” Phaedra tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “What if it isn’t a spell?”
“I’ve considered that, too. Given the crossroads, the possibilities are too many to tackle on my own.”
She smiled. “The crossroads throw a supernatural spanner in the works every time. You never know if some so-called mythical creature has wandered through to wreak havoc.”
“Or been summoned.”
