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“Any headache?”
“Yeah, but I can manage it with one of the pills Dr. Fairsight gave me.” I pulled a medicine bottle out of my purse and popped one of the capsules. Those of us with witchblood couldn’t use all of the medications humans did, or the ones for shifters. This was an herbal concoction that was stronger than ibuprofen, but not so strong that it knocked me off my feet. Within minutes, the headache began to recede and I thought that I might get off lucky this time.
“Well, I need to go in early. It’s surgery day, so I’ll be late tonight.” Killian kissed me, smoothing my hair back. “If you need me, text. But I may not see it right away so if it’s an emergency, call the desk and they’ll come get me.”
“Will do, but I think everything will be okay. I’ll text you when the fire marshal calls me about the damage to the house.” I waved as he disappeared out the door, and then I finished my sandwich and latte. Xi and Klaus came running in and I kissed them goodbye and made sure that Killian had fed them, and that their water fountain was full and running smoothly.
Then, as I locked the door and crossed to my car, I stopped, staring at the house next door. While the roof was intact, the damage was evident all around the first floor, and a heavy layer of soot blackened the snow. Now the dirty gray surrounded the house like a cloud of gloom.
A thought hit me and I stopped, turning around to cross into the backyard. I headed down the lawn until I came to the edge of the Mystic Wood. As I approached the snow-shrouded woodland, there was a rustling and I could see snow falling off bushes near the trailhead.
“Rebecca?” I called out. “Are you around?” I brushed off the bench near the edge of the trail and sat down, grateful I’d worn one of my longer coats so I didn’t get my jeans wet.
“I’m here,” the imp said, peering out from between the bushes. She looked like a young girl of around eight to ten years with golden hair and a radiant nature. In reality, she was an imp—a demon who had tried to kill me when I was young.
Over the past two years, we had formed an unlikely acquaintance, and she often warned me when danger was prowling through the Mystic Wood. As thanks, I brought her barbecued ribs from Killian’s smoker, and we maintained our odd alliance.
“Did you see anything last night? Did you notice anyone in the yard who didn’t belong here?”
She thought for a moment. “You mean, regarding the fire?”
“Right. If itwasarson, any information could be helpful.” I shivered as a clump of snow fell off one of the fir branches, landing on my head. I brushed it off.
The Mystic Wood surrounded Moonshadow Bay on three sides, and it was a magical place, wild and dangerous and filled with creatures from legend—both urban and ancient lore. The dense woodland was filled with towering firs and cedars, while slender white birches created ghostly silhouettes during the twilight. Huckleberries and wild roses and waist-high ferns and brambles created a jungle of undergrowth, making passage off-trail difficult.
Within this wood, the Woodlings lived, and portals led to other dimensions and to the realm of the Overkings—the Fae. In addition, buried within this patch of the Mystic Wood was an old trunk, containing the remains of a serial killer. My grandmother Rowan and my great-grandmother Colleen had hidden the trunk there after killing the man who had murdered one of Colleen’s young daughters and stuffed him in it. They had kept the secret, and with Colleen’s death, only Rowan knew where the trunk was located. I had read Colleen’s journals and that was one of the reasons I knew about it. She had recorded their dark secret in her diary.
Rebecca regarded the house from where we were. She seldom smiled, which was for the best because when she smiled, it was more frightening than her scowls. “There was a presence last night. I sensed dark energy—angry energy. I didn’t come out to see what it was, but it was within this yard.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about it?”
She thought for a while before shaking her head. “Not really, except whatever it is, it’s steeped in chaos. And danger follows its footsteps. I do not know whether it belongs to the witchblood, or some demon or devil or other creature. But January, be careful. Whatever it is, it’s hunting, and it won’t rest until it finds what it wants.” She turned to go, then paused. “Given it was your house that was targeted, you may be the one in the crosshairs. Be wary, January. Check yourself for attachments.”
With that, Rebecca slipped away into the snowy woodland.
I waited for a moment, reluctant to leave the woodland, then finally stood and jogged back toward the driveway. I glanced back at the Mystic Wood and thought—for just a moment—that I could see Rebecca watching me.
* * *
As I headed to work,I was about to ask Jerica, the AI in my car, to call Daya’s number, then realized that it wasn’t even eight yet. Saving that task for a more reasonable hour, I tried to focus on the road instead of the fire. But Rebecca’s words kept interfering, cropping up to distract me.
It was a wonder I made it to work, and by the time I got there and parked, I thought that I’d better get my mind under control before the next time I got behind the wheel. I swept through the door to see Wren at her desk. She gave me a tired but welcoming smile.
“Hey, how are you?”
Wren shrugged. “Keeping on keeping on. You know how it goes.”
Walter, Wren’s husband, had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a year or so ago, and Tad was working with her to help her keep her job, yet have the time off she needed in order to manage Walter’s condition.
They had a home health worker now, thanks to Tad’s generosity and to a lottery ticket that I had won and handed over to Wren. The $25,000 would have been a nice extra, but the truth was that I really didn’t need it, and Wren and Walter could put it to such good use. But that would run out soon enough, and Tad was doing everything he could to find a lower-cost home health worker who was still qualified for the job for them.
Wren needed all the help she could get. There were so many aspects of their lives that fell on her shoulders now.
Tad jumped up from his desk as he saw me. “January! Are you all right? I was going to text you but then thought you were probably exhausted.”
I paused, realizing that he had somehow heard about the fire. “So yeah, my house caught on fire last night—not Killian’s house, but mine. Nobody was there, but there’s definitely a lot of damage. I’m not sure how much, but I’m waiting on a call from the fire marshal. They need to do an investigation to see what caused the fire.”
Tad took a breath. “You mean it might not have been an accident?”
