I woke to the sounds of arguing. I stretched and yawned, looking down at Ajax, who sprawled across my legs. I scratched his ears and he made a happy sound, and promptly wriggled himself around so I could scratch his tummy.
“What’s going on, boy?” I asked with a smile.
The previous night—actually morning—I’d zombied into one of Luke’s guest bedrooms. I’d found a stock of unused toiletries and proceeded to brush my teeth before stripping down to my underwear and crawling straight into bed. I hadn’t even stirred when Ajax joined me.
The argument grew louder. I recognized Stacey’s voice and Luke’s lower rumble. Sibling spat? I couldn’t hear what the fight was about, but I knew I wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon.
I dragged myself out of bed, much to Ajax’s annoyance, and went to grab a shower. I found a canvas bag containing a pair of jeans, fresh underwear, a tee shirt, and socks in the sink. Stacey and Jen must have stopped at the hotel and raided my closet. Now if they’d only brought an IV of coffee, I’d be set.
After I’d showered and dressed, I headed downstairs. Hopefully Luke had food Ajax could eat.
Luke’s house was built in the Frank Lloyd Wright style. It nested into the hillside and surrounding oaks. Despite its size—easily ten thousand square feet—It felt cozy and warm with a lot of windows, wood floors, and mid-century modern furnishings. Luke didn’t go for chrome and steel or black and white, thank goodness. The modern look was chic, but I found it incredibly boring.
The argument had become a rumble of conversation. I wandered through several big rooms intended for entertaining crowds, pausing here and there to examine the artwork and furniture. Sunshine fell through the tall windows and splashed across the comfortable couches and chairs. I checked my phone for the time. Ten o’clock. I hadn’t planned to sleep so late.
Eventually I meandered my way to the kitchen. It was a chef’s wet dream. It had high end appliances, a six-burner stove with a griddle and a grill, a walk in refrigerator and freezer, a giant wine fridge, a vast pantry, an island that went on for days, a chunky oak table that sat twenty, plus every other bell and whistle a chef might want.
I wiped my chin to make sure I hadn’t drooled. To get a chance to cook in this kitchen, I’d have considered going down on Luke. Of course Damon would point out that I had plenty of money to create a kitchen at least this fancy. He’d also go caveman on me. What that would entail, I wasn’t sure, but it wouldn’t be pretty, and poor Luke would probably come out of it with broken bones.
I turned my attention to the tableau before me. Mikey, Stacey, and Jen sat on one side of the island. Luke stood leaned against the far counter, his arms crossed and looking defensive.
“I get tons of invitations,” he was telling Stacey, who looked furious. “Most of them are from people I don’t even know. They want me to go to this gala or this fundraiser or who even knows. Most of the time I don’t even open them.”
“You opened this one,” she shot back.
“Because I know he’s a social-climbing slime-bucket.”
She shook her head and tossed up her hands. “How does that even make sense? You open the invite because you don’t like him?”
“Maybe Luke’s from Earth 2,” I suggested with another yawn, while holding up two fingers. “I hear things don’t actually have to make sense there.” My gaze riveted on the espresso machine peeking out from behind him.
“Get out of the way, Luke,” Jen said. “You never want to stand between Beck and her coffee. You might lose your favorite appendage.”
Stacey shoed him aside. “I’ll fix it, Beck. Get some sugar, Luke. Hurry, before she goes feral.”
I’d have protested, but they weren’t wrong about me. My blood was at least three quarters coffee.
“What’s going on?” I asked. My stomach growled. I headed for the refrigerator and started digging out ingredients for an omelet. I found some ground turkey. Perfect for Ajax. I carried my bounty to the island, where the stove sat at one end. I quickly fired up the grill, made patties from the turkey, and tossed them on the heat. I then set about chopping veggies.
“Luke has an invitation to that garden party. You know, the one being held by Lydia’s asshole ex? The same guy who stole her cats, had her arrested, got her fired from several jobs, and had her evicted from her apartment.”
Stacey gave Luke a baleful look, the espresso machine starting to steam loudly. “I knew you kept crap company, but I never thought you’d be caught dead around a rattlesnake like him.”
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting out a gusty sigh. “I will say it again. I don’t know the man. He’s got political ambitions and I’m on a dozen lists he could buy to solicit donations.”
“Which you opened,” she pointed out. “Even though you don’t usually.”
“Have a look at the address. The return address,” he clarified when she picked up the envelope.
She frowned. “This is right up the road.”
He nodded. “The Robinsons used to live there. Nice people. I didn’t know the property changed hands, or that that asshole had bought it. I opened the invite because I was curious about what he’s up to. He’s looking for money to fund a run for the state senate.”
“You didn’t RSVP,” she said, turning the reply card in her fingers thoughtfully.
“Where’s Lorraine?” I asked, moving on to dicing potatoes after flipping the turkey burgers.
Stacey set the card down and brought my coffee over, which was actually six or eight shots of espresso with steamed milk and plenty of sugar. I sipped. Liquid bliss.
“She’ll be back soon. She went to check on the horse she operated on last night.”
“It went okay?”
“Lorraine was pretty confident the mare would be fine,” Jen said.
“Anybody hungry?” I asked, as I rifled the cupboards for oil and spices. I tossed a mixture of potatoes, bell peppers, and onions with olive oil and a variety of spices, then poured them on a giant jelly roll sheet and slid them into the oven.
Up to this point, Officer Mikey had remained quiet, but he added his voice to the chorus of affirmatives.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
I had to admit I looked at him like his hair was on fire. Of all the people to ask me that question, I’d have put him at the bottom of the list. Crossed off in thick black Sharpie.
“Good. Sore, but the shower helped.” In fact, I had some bruises on my hip, knee, and side, but he didn’t need to hear about those. “Where are Lindsey and her cousins?”
“Asleep,” Luke said. “When we got her into the gym she went nuts. I mean demented. Frantic. Like she was hopped up on a truckload of meth. She went to town on the walls. Pens I gave her ran out of ink in nothing flat.”
“We got here just in time with supplies,” Jen added, sipping on her orange juice. “Luke’s right. She was in a frenzy. Focused and manic. She wrote on the walls and the floor, and it was nothing any of us could understand. Diagrams and words that weren’t words. At least they weren’t English.”
“As soon as she was done, she collapsed,” Stacey said. “She was soaked with sweat and she’d broken another blood vessel. Her eyes looked like they were bleeding. I’m not sure, but she looked like she might have lost twenty pounds. Her clothes hung on her. Rhi and Lorel had been trying to get her to eat and drink, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t stop or slow down.”
Curiosity gnawed at me, but breakfast demanded I stay and eat before wandering off to look at the results of Lindsey’s fugue.
“Grate some parmesan, would you?” I asked Luke. “And some Gruyere. Mikey, make yourself useful and stir the potatoes.”
Both stood and went to work.
“Anything we can do?” Jen asked.
“Drinks, set the table, make toast. Oh, crap!”
“What?”
“I’m supposed to meet my mother for lunch today. I need to text her.” I pulled out my cell and tapped out the message, saying an emergency had come up, but we could reschedule for tomorrow if she had time. I sent it and went back to cooking.
“We should use the invitation,” Stacey announced, while buttering a batch of rye toast.
“You planning to start a fire?” Luke asked. “I know I haven’t run out of toilet paper, so you can’t be wanting to use it for that.”
She made a face at him. “Don’t be an idiot. I mean we could go to the party and get Lydia’s cats.”
“Whose cats?”
“Lydia. Carson Flannery, the asshole up the road, is her ex and he’s been terrorizing her.” She went on to explain the whole story, finishing up with, “so we’re going to take the cats back and make him stop harassing her.”
“You’re talking about theft,” Mikey said with a frown. “You could get arrested. And how would you make him do anything?”
“I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Do tell.”
She shook her head. “The only reason you’re involved in this at all is because I want Lydia to have a solid alibi. I was going to have you hang out with her after her shift last night while we did what we needed to do.”
“You thought I’d just go along with this idiocy, knowing you’re off to commit who knows what crimes?”
Mikey’s voice went so cold I could almost see the icicles hanging off his words. Stacey was unfazed.
“Actually, no,” she said. “That’s why I called Luke. Flannery has a lot of connections, and I thought an alibi from an officer of the law would be best, but Luke’s rich and well-connected, so he’ll do.”
Officer Mikey actually growled at that revelation.
“It’s not like you want to do it, so I don’t know what your damage is,” she said tartly.
“You need to keep your hands to yourself,” she said, turning to Luke. “Lydia’s fragile right now. She’s been through hell, and if her ex has his way, he’ll drag her back to his home and lock her in a basement or something. I’m not letting that happen.”
“We’re not going to let that happen,” Lorraine corrected as she stepped into the kitchen.
She was dressed in a flowing sleeveless jumpsuit, patterned with brilliant yellow hibiscus flowers on a cobalt background. Her thick chestnut hair fell in waves over her shoulders, her dramatic smokey black and blue eyeshadow and ruby lips making her look mysterious and exotic. She wore her nails short and her hands were callused. When she wasn’t working with her animals, she was digging in her garden. If Jen was an Amazon and Stacey a pixie, Lorraine was mother earth.
She tossed her handbag on the counter and went to make herself espresso. She looked over her shoulder at me. “Refill?”
I grinned. “Always. You want breakfast?”
She flashed a smile of her own. “Always.”
“What exactly do you expect me to do while you go and commit whatever crimes you have in mind?” Mikey asked, his expression turning to granite.
“Nothing,” Stacey said dismissively. “Go home and mow the lawn, or whatever you do on a Sunday.”
His lip curled, and he gave a slow shake of his head. “Are you serious or just trying to piss me off?”
She put her hands on her hips, her eyes sparking with irritation. “You want me to apologize for wasting your time? Or for getting you involved at all? You got it. I’m sorry. I should have known better. You’re too straight an arrow to help with this.” She made the last sound like an insult.
“But the police idiots have all taken Flannery’s word for everything. They won’t even listen to Lydia. She’s just the bitter ex-wife causing the poor, pitiful man trouble.” The way she glared at Mikey, it was clear she counted him among the cops who chose to ignore Lydia’s plight. “I’m the only one who listened. Since you and your cop buddies won’t do anything, we’re going to get her cats back, and we’re going to make sure Flannery stops bothering her. Besides, is it really theft if we steal back what he stole?”
“I can’t be Lydia’s alibi,” Luke said, as if she hadn’t just ripped Mikey a new asshole. “The invitation is to me, so I’ll have to go to the party. Beck would be my obvious date. She’s got the name recognition of her aunt, and everybody will expect that she’s inherited a bunch of money. That makes her welcome, and Flannery will be eager to suck up to us both.”
“What do we do about Lydia?” Jen asked. “And how do the rest of us get into the party?”
“You’re the best choice to give Lydia her alibi, Stacey,” I said with an apologetic look. I knew how much she wanted to be the one to teach the asshole ex a lesson, or at least be there to witness it. “You’re the only one of us who actually knows her, and it makes sense that you would go do something together. When the cops question her—and given their track record so far, they will—they won’t wonder why she was with strangers. Wouldn’t hurt if you had an alibi either.”
Her lips flattened and her eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms, her chin jutting. I just waited. I knew she’d be mad, but she wasn’t stupid. A minute ticked by, and I worked at cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Fine,” she spat out finally. “I’ll call her, but you remember this moment, Beck, when I use logic against you.” Her finger stabbed the air as she pointed at me.
“I’ll try,” I said, as she spun around and marched out of the room, digging in her pocket for her phone as she went.
“That takes care of Lydia, but what about me and Lorraine?” Jen asked. “You aren’t going to be able to get the cats if you and Luke are at the party. We need to get in under the radar.”
“Like as caterers or something,” Lorraine said, sitting next to Jen and casting a wary look at Mikey.
“I’ll cast a glamour,” I said, not looking up.
“What does that mean?” Luke asked, and he’d clearly not quite come to terms with magic, because his voice cracked like he’d just hit puberty.
“A disguise, right?” Jen said.
“Sort of, but in this case, I’d make it so nobody wants to notice you. They’ll see you, but they won’t pay any attention. You’ll be able to walk in with me and Luke.”
Jen grinned and Lorraine’s eyes rounded. “You can do that?” she asked.
I nodded and reached for the whisk. “As long as you don’t do something that seriously calls attention to yourself, for all practical purposes, you’ll be invisible.”
“What do you mean by ‘seriously calls attention to ourselves’?” Lorraine asked, tapping her fingers on the counter.
“And what happens if we do?” Jen added.
“The glamour essentially convinces people not to pay any attention to you. They might look straight at you but won’t be able to remember seeing you, or if they do, they won’t be able to remember anything about what you look like. That said, you can break the glamour by essentially forcing them to see you.”
“Like what would do it?” Jen asked.
I shrugged. “Stripping naked could do it, but screaming and throwing dishes definitely would. Everybody’s got a different threshold, though, so it’s best to be as unassuming as possible.”
“Oh, goody. We’re such experts at fading into the background,” Jen said. “We may be doomed.”
“You’ll just have to work hard,” I told her. The four of us had a habit of stealing the spotlight. Not that we meant to, but for some reason, when you didn’t give a lot of fucks about what people think of you, they tend to give you more attention.
“Would walking out with the cats constitute calling attention to themselves?” Mikey inserted suddenly.
I lifted a brow at him and resumed beating the eggs. “Could. Depends on how unexpected or out of place they seem, but that’s where I come in. I’ll create a distraction.”
“What kind of distraction?” He scowled, no doubt imagining me burning down the house or maybe calling down a meteor strike. If only.
I shrugged. “A swarm of bees? Cockroaches? A small tornado? I have no idea. It all depends on the situation. Hell, I could let Mitzi loose. I bet she’d love to go full-on poltergeist again.”
Just at the moment, she was in my pocket, no doubt listening to every word.
I set the eggs aside and turned on two burners, generously adding butter to two pans. I divided the vegetables between them and gave them a quick sauté.
“Okay, she and I are going to spend the day shopping and maybe see a movie and have dinner,” Stacey announced as she returned. She sat on the other side of Jen and looked across at Mikey. “What are you still doing here?”
“I’m hungry.”
“There are other places to eat.”
“I like it here.”
“I didn’t realize you were into sadomasochism. I thought you were strictly vanilla,” she taunted.
“You don’t have a clue what I am,” he shot back.
“Right back at ya, Slick,” she snapped and stood up. “And that is my cue to step off. I’ll take a raincheck on the eggs. Let me know how the party goes. Luke, can I borrow your car?”
“Stacey,” Mikey began, but she’d stalked out of the room.
Luke followed. Mikey stood as if he intended to do the same, but Lorraine stopped him.
“If you don’t want her to rip your dick off, you should probably stay here.”
“I’m not going to just let her walk out. We’re going to settle this now.” He was seething, the cold having turned volcanic.
“How exactly do you see that going?” Jen asked, tipping her head to the side.
“I don’t know, but it’s time we had it out.”
“Definitely,” Lorraine said. “Go do that. It was somewhat nice knowing you. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
He went a couple more steps and stopped, turning to look at her. “What do you suggest I do?”
“Pull your head out of your ass, for one,” she said. “Stop being so goddamned judgmental. For a guy who claims to like her, you sure treat her like something you stepped in.”
“If it’s true she has no idea who you are, ask yourself why,” Jen added. “Whose fault is that?”
“A relationship takes two,” he huffed.
I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “You know, you’re so busy handing out rules for how Stacey should act that you don’t realize how condescending and rude your demands are. She’s a grown-ass woman who doesn’t need to twist herself into a new shape just so you’ll approve of her. Or is it more that you won’t be disgusted at yourself for wanting her? Turn her into Stepford Stacey, so you don’t mind being seen in public with her? Why would she ever participate in a relationship with a man who treats her like that? I sure as hell wouldn’t.”
I set aside the vegetables, tossed more butter in the pans, and ladled in the eggs, not bothering to look at Mikey to see how he reacted to my words. I turned the heat down and went to check the potatoes as Luke returned.
“She left,” he said, sauntering over to make himself another espresso. “Hopefully she doesn’t drive so pissed she wraps the car around a tree.”
“Not likely,” I said.
“She was pretty hot.” He looked at Mikey. “Keep that up, would you? Every time you poke pins in her, she gets closer to my bed.”
“You wish,” Lorraine said.
“I’ll only make her feel good,” he said. “I’m a safe space. That jackass—” He pointed at Mikey. “—spends all his time trying to make her feel small and unworthy. I just want to celebrate her.”
“Her body, you mean,” Jen said with an eyeroll.
“Sure. I love her body, but I love the rest of her, too.” He leveled a stoney look at Mikey. “I love her just the way she is.”
Lorraine, Jen, and I exchanged a startled glance. Love? Did he mean that? Or was it a figure of speech? And if he did mean it, what sort of love? The kind he had for a favorite pair of shoes or piece of art? Or the real kind?
“Maybe you should leave, too,” Luke told Mikey. “You don’t want to be involved. If you stay, you will be.”
The other man stiffened and nodded. “I’ll call a cab.” With that, he walked out.
“And then there were four,” Lorraine said, sipping from her cup. “How are we going to do this cat burglary?”
I finished with the omelets and we ate, discussing our options. We had no idea where the cats were, or if they were even on the property.
“Is there any magic you can do to find out?” Luke asked me.
“I’ve never been able to locate things or people,” I said. “I’m sure there must be a way, but if there is, I don’t know it.”
“Then we just have to search. When you think about it, he probably isn’t hiding them. As far as he knows, the only person who might come after them is Lydia, and there’s no way she’s getting in without him or his security finding out,” Lorraine said.
“You make it sound like he’s using them for bait,” Jen said, cocking her head thoughtfully.
“He could be. Think about it. He’s harassing her, stalking her, stealing from her, reporting her to the police for things she didn’t do, getting her evicted, and making her lose her jobs, but all of those only isolate her and make her desperate. If she gets desperate enough, he can swoop in and get her under his control again,” Lorraine said.
“It’s definitely a possibility. Stacey didn’t say why she left him, or if he wanted her to go. Maybe all of this really is a ploy to lure her back. Or force her back.” I frowned. “But why would he want to have a wife who hates and fears him if he’s running for office? Wouldn’t she be a liability?”
“She’s made accusations against him, even if no one believes them,” Luke said. “His opponent would use those to attack his campaign. The accusations become a lot less compelling if Lydia goes back to his bed and even recants and says she was just angry and wanted to hurt him or some bullshit,” Luke said. “If that’s his goal, he hasn’t got a lot of time. Not if this party is kicking off his fundraising. He’ll have to declare he’s running soon, and he needs her toeing line by then.”
“Is it me, or is anybody else worried about what he might do to the cats?” Lorraine asked, setting her fork down, her face growing pale.
“How do you mean?” I asked, but I was already putting the pieces together, and they weren’t pretty.
“What if he’s holding them hostage? I know a lot of people wouldn’t sacrifice a lot for their pets, but a lot of people would.” She looked at me. “What wouldn’t you do for Ajax?”
“I’d burn the city down,” I said without hesitation. It sounded like hyperbole, and maybe I wouldn’t actually burn the city, but I’d risk my life to save his. I knew that without a doubt.
“These cats are all that Lydia has left. Flannery would know what they mean to her. So maybe he steals them and tells her if she doesn’t come back and tell the world she’s been an awful wife and lied, that now she wants to be the wife he deserves and blah blah blah, then he’ll kill them. Hell, he might convince her he’s serious by maiming one, or even killing it.”
All three of us stared at her. My mouth went dry and I reached down to pet Ajax. He’d come to lay just behind my chair. He caught my mood and sat, laying his head on my lap, his liquid gaze full of love and trust.
As far as I was concerned, Aunty Mommy had been the most evil person I knew or could imagine, but this sort of thing was next level cruel. Animals were innocent and loved unconditionally. They deserved everything wonderful in life. I’d rescued Ajax from a horrific situation where he’d been kept on a short chain, his collar chewing into his neck, his skin covered in sores. He’d been starved and scared and angry, and he’d been protecting two little girls from their homicidal father. I’d been glad when the bastard was killed. The fucker deserved it. He deserved a lot worse, and I hoped he was getting his full due in hell. But that had been casual neglect, which was awful enough. What Lorraine was talking about now was sadistic. Evil.
“That’s….” I didn’t even have the words.
Jen nodded. “That’s fucked up, insane, and hopefully way outside of reality.”
“Trouble is, it makes a lot of sense,” Luke said.
“Only if Flannery is a psychopath,” I said, hoping like fuck that he wasn’t.
“He’s a politician. Aren’t they psychopaths by definition?” Lorraine asked. “Everything for them is about power, money, and getting more of both.”
Her cynicism was well earned. Her own father had abandoned his family when she was young and had gone on to have a celebrated career, first as a federal judge, then as a senator. Years ago he’d guaranteed that success by forcing her mother to sign a non-disclosure agreement, saying she wouldn’t ever reveal he’d fathered Lorraine or that he’d abandoned her, and in exchange he’d give her a substantial payoff and would pay for Lorraine’s college and vet school, and he’d smooth the way in her career in any way she needed. She’d have to repay all the money if she or Lorraine ever revealed the truth. He’d gone so far as to have himself removed from her birth certificate, though how he’d done that, I had no idea. It hadn’t been legal, that’s for sure. He’d had their marriage nullified as well.
He was now jockeying to either get on the Supreme Court, or become the Attorney General of the United States.
Like Lorraine said: psychopath.
“Whatever his plans, he won’t risk doing anything during his party,” I said. “We’ll just have to make sure he can’t do anything after.” I picked up the invitation and glanced at the clock. “It’s already started.”
“We’ve got time.” Luke said, taking it from me. “The party will go on until late, no doubt with rivers of alcohol to loosen up the checkbooks. Most people will be fashionably late, anyhow.”
“One problem,” I said. “I don’t have anything to wear. I lost my wardrobe when Garrett destroyed my apartment. I’ll have to see if I can find anything off the rack somewhere.”
“Or…” Jen said, drawing the word out.
I eyed her, sure I was going to hate her next words. I was so right.
“You could raid Aunty Mommy’s closet.”
“No,” my mouth said before my brain even got a chance to think about it.
“You’re close enough to her size to find something, and you could probably wiggle your nose and make both the clothes and shoes fit.”
“I’d rather go naked.”
“That would certainly distract Flannery,” Lorraine said.
“It would also get you tossed out,” Jen said. She glared at Luke. “And keep your mouth shut. We already know you’d support her going naked.” She turned back to me. “Up to you, but you know you’re more likely to find something at Aunty Mommy’s than at some store. You’re stuck with whatever’s open on Sunday, which is going to be the mall and Walmart.”
I glared. I hated that she was right. I wasn’t going to say it out loud, either.
“We might be able to help.”
Rhi stood in the door. Her eyes were bruised looking and tired. I jumped up.
“How are you? How’s Lindsey? Are you hungry? Sit down.”
I ushered her to my now-empty chair, scooped up my dishes and went to make her an omelet. Ajax followed, leaning against my leg. Talk about an emotional support animal. I was supposed to be his support.
“Lindsey’s still asleep. Lorel is staying with her.”
“I’ll fix her something to eat and take it to her.”
“What did you mean you might be able to help?” Lorraine asked after I introduced her.
“Lorel and I design clothes. A lot of A-listers wear them. In fact, we’ve designed for Lydia Flannery. She’s lovely, and her husband is scum. I’d love to help her. I know we have something you could wear. We’d just have to run to our house in Sutton.”
She hesitated, looking around at all of us and flushing when she met Luke’s admiring gaze and quickly looking away. I rolled my eyes. He was such a tomcat.
“You’re looking for something special, aren’t you?” She sounded uncertain.
“For a garden party,” I explained. “I need to look rich and eager to give away my money to a hungry politician.”
“I have some things that would definitely work,” she said.
I slid the omelet onto the plate and sprinkled some gruyere and parmesan on top, and added some of the potatoes I’d left in the warming oven. I put it down in front of her and pushed the plate of toast in her direction.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Tea would be good. If you have any.”
“Luke?”
“Pantry, left side, third shelf.”
I opened the door. “Got a favorite?” I called to Rhi.
“Earl Gray or Orange Pekoe.”
I grabbed both, along with a handy diffuser and set them on the table before grabbing a cup and drawing hot water from the spigot on the espresso machine.
“Cream or sugar?”
“No, thank you.”
I set the hot water down and went to get Lorel’s plate ready.
“Should I make something for Lindsey?” I asked. “Do you think she’ll wake up soon?”
A shrug. “I wish I knew. I’ve never seen a vision take her like this. Did you see what she did?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t.”
“You need to. Whatever it is, it’s for you.”
“For me?”
Rhi nodded. “She said you were going to need it. She said….”
“What?”
She looked down and took a breath and looked back at me. “She said you’re running out of time.”
My brows stitched together. “Running out of time for what?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I’m hoping she’ll be able to say more when she wakes up, but she usually doesn’t remember anything.
I grimaced. “That’s helpful.”
“At least you’re forewarned. That’s good, right?”
“Only if the shit doesn’t hit the fan first.” Since my stars always aligned under the influence of Murphy's Law, the shit storm was inevitable. The only real question, how bad would it be? My stomach curled with foreboding and I shuddered as a shadow wrapped around me.
Whatever disaster was coming for me, it was going to be very bad indeed.