Amidst the whole sorry scene, my mother’s house pulsed with a feeling of safety I’d always taken for granted.
“Come on.” I tugged Veronica, getting her to move faster again.
“Penny, you are not telling me something big, and I want to know what it is. Something definitely has you spooked.”
“Yes, fine, but not right now.” I glanced behind us. A flicker of movement caught my eye, but I couldn’t tell if it was a tree waving in the wind, or someone ducking into a yard. “Almost there.”
I dragged Veronica across the street by her wrist, sighing in relief as soon as my foot landed on our property. The sense of dread that had been growing in my body muted. I looked out at the quiet neighborhood. Nothing moved.
Had it all been my imagination?
With a last glance down at our property line, I pulled Veronica up the walk and to our porch. “Just come in really quickly, okay? I want to see what my mother has to say.”
“Oh, I’m coming in. I don’t care if I have to choke down your mother’s burned roast—I want to know what’s going on.”
I turned the handle and pushed, part of me terrified the door would be locked and I’d be trapped outside. After it swung open, thankfully, I dragged Veronica inside and gave her a little shove away from the door so I could shut it and lock it. As soon as it gave a satisfying click, I peered out the window. A car rolled by, the driver looking straight ahead. A light clicked on in the front room window across the street. Lewis Timmons stared over at our house for a moment before raking his gaze along the street. His curtains were pulled shut a moment later.
The breath entering my lungs felt cleansing, and I realized I’d been holding my breath.
My mother stood over the stove in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. She glanced up when we walked in before going back to it. “Did you fix everything?”
Veronica looked at me with her eyebrows raised. Apparently I would be spearheading this conversation with my mother. And while that had initially been the plan…now here I was. Theory was much better than reality when it came to this type of thing.
“We probably missed a couple. I thought we’d best head back.” I drifted toward the counter, suddenly conscious of my awkward body posture. I had the sinking feeling of a kid who’d broken a window with a baseball.
“Oh?” My mother stirred for all she was worth, clearly making gravy. “I haven’t known a little rain to distract you two from grammar-policing the neighborhood.”
While my mother was a decent cook, I certainly didn’t get my natural affinity for it from her. I grabbed the spoon from her and took over. “It wasn’t the rain.”
She pulled open the fridge and started digging through. “Do you want a salad tonight? Veronica, are you staying? What about a salad?”
“Yes, I will, and that’s fine,” Veronica said, her eyes still on me.
“Great. You can make it.” My mother deposited a bundle of green items on the counter.
“Awesome,” Veronica mumbled dryly.
My mother poured herself a glass of water before leaning against the counter, watching me work. “What happened? Was it that troublemaker Billy Timmons? Because I will march over there right now and drag that little creep out of his house by the ear. I will not abide his taunting you.”
“He sucks,” Veronica said, clearly still angry she’d been robbed of her comeback. “But he’s not worth Lewis calling the cops on you again.”
“You think they’ll get anything on me? They won’t. It’ll be their word against ours, and you know Peg never gets involved. The police will have nothing incriminating. In the meantime, he’ll get a red ear, and by George, you will get an apology. Have I ever failed to deliver?”
I took a deep breath, glancing out the large window over the sink at the darkening backyard beyond. Shadowy shapes and blotches shook and swung in the wind.
“Have I?” she pushed.
“The time you marched onto the quad at lunchtime was my favorite,” Veronica said, chopping lettuce. “He was so shocked when you picked him up by the scruff of his neck and dragged him over to Penny. I died laughing.” She stopped what she was doing and chuckled. “Then you ate his sandwich!”
“Peg makes a mean sandwich.” My mother nodded. “As the head of this household, it is my job to protect my daughter. And I will do so, even from little jerks like that Billy Timmons.”
I slowed in my stirring, those words slamming into me. I’d heard them all my life. My father had always said he’d protect his family at all costs, and my mother had proudly taken up the mantle. I’d always figured it was just something all parents said, but now, after the last couple of days, they had a different ring to them. They merged with the feeling of safety emanating from the house, countering the threat that I might have imagined outside.
“It’s not Billy,” I said, lowering the heat on the stove before checking the roast. I immediately pulled it out of the oven. “It’s my temperamental third eye. That, or my imagination.”
“You do have a pretty extreme imagination,” Veronica said, popping a square of cheese into her mouth.
“Your temperamental third eye?” My mother’s gaze sharpened. Again, that was something I’d grown up with. The focused gaze she leveled at me when I said certain things. I’d always ignored it, but now…
I set the roast to rest, wondering how much to tell her. Certainly not about the New Orleans trip, but something told me I’d better spill about the stranger. At least parts of it, like his visit to my booth and seeing him standing in the street with a ball of black between his palms.
No need to mention running over the dead people—a girl had to have some secrets, after all.
Veronica would hear everything, too, of course, but I’d promised her the truth anyway. And this wouldn’t be the first time she heard me talk about magic.
I opened my mouth and the words just started to spill out. When I finally finished, my mother stood at the sink with her apron stretched over her front and a frown stretched over her face. Silence filled the kitchen, only interrupted by the patter of raindrops outside.
“And you thought you saw someone around this neighborhood?” she finally said, her gaze boring into me.
I shrugged, uncomfortable. I’d hoped she would laugh this off, as she usually did when it came to my temperamental third eye. That was how it had gotten its name, after all. But this time, she was as serious as the grave.
“I thought I saw movement, or someone darting out of sight,” I said. “And the street was unnaturally quiet.”
“That’s true.” Veronica nodded as she popped another piece of cheese into her mouth. “The street was quieter than normal. Could’ve just been the weather.”
“Did anyone see you try to gun down the man in the street?” my mother asked. The rest of her body stayed frozen. Each word dripped with an anxiety I’d never heard from her before.
Fear unfurled in my stomach. The hair stood up along my arms. “I—I don’t think so.”
Her gaze stayed rooted to mine. “What aren’t you telling me, Penelope Bristol?”
Veronica slowed in her chewing and turned toward me, her eyes wide.
Without meaning to, I blurted out the part about getting out of the car and seeing the men fighting each other with what I believed to be magic.
My mother’s whole body sagged. Worry clouded her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“I…I sound crazy. It sounds crazy. And someone…someone died. I think. Maybe a few people.” I clamped my mouth shut, determined not to spill anymore.
“You went by there this morning?” she asked.
“Yes. There wasn’t even a trace. But this wasn’t my imagination. It sounds crazy, but it wasn’t—”
Suddenly my mother was striding from the room, her back straight and fire in her eyes. “They will not take my daughter. Not while I walk this earth or beyond. I will be damned if those vultures come for my flesh and blood.”
“Did she just swear?” Veronica asked with cheese still in her mouth, the need to chew apparently forgotten. “What’s happening?”
I shook my head lamely, at a complete loss.
A moment later, my mother strode back in with a worn leather book. She set it on the table with a solid thunk. “They won’t be able to come in here without studying the ward first. Your father was the best around, and all these years, I’ve continuously fed his spell. Those goons will head back to their books, you mark my words. We have some time to figure out how to get you out, Penny. A couple days, maybe. But Veronica’s house will need some protection, too. They’ve seen you two together. She’s not safe. She could be used as bait.” Her brow furrowed as she opened the book. The musty smell of old paper greeted me. The words lining the pages called to me. “I’m not a great mage, but I’m good enough to buy us some time.”
Chapter Fourteen
Had speech been possible, I would’ve broken my mother’s rules and let a whole bunch of four-letter words spew from my mouth. As it was, all I could do was stare. The stare of a child who’d believed one thing her whole life, only to discover her parents had believed something entirely different.