On the counter, Reagan’s phone chimed, and she scooped it up. “Cora and your gran are out getting supplies for the reading, and Dayna’s heading over now.”
She blinked, momentarily distracted at the mention of Dayna, as Reagan brandished a finger at the cupboard and muttered something under her breath. Two of the clay mugs floated down, wobbling slightly as they descended. As they reached eye level, she plucked them out of the air and set them on the table. “My magic’s been overflowing since the ascension.”
Meiner cleared her throat, trying not to let the jealousy show on her face. “Well, doesn’t sound like a bad problem to have.”
They both paused as Yemi drifted past the kitchen doorway, waving a thick bundle of smoldering sage, leaving trails of smoke and the sound of gentle humming in her wake.
Reagan’s dark brows knit together. “She said cleansing is normal before a joint reading, but I swear she’s been through the house, like, five times now.”
“You can hardly blame her after what happened.” Meiner picked up one of the knives from the counter and began toying with it, spreading her hand on the table and running the tip between the lines of her fingers.
“Abeg, have a care, Stabby Spice.” Reagan thrust her wooden spoon at Meiner. “Just because you’ve an appetite for destruction doesn’t mean I’ll let you bleed to death all over the floor. Ma just cleaned it.”
“Sorry.” Meiner laid the knife down.
The front door slammed, and Reagan straightened up. “Perfect timing.” As Dayna walked into the kitchen—wearing a very flattering gray sweater, Meiner noticed—Reagan slung one of her oven mitts at her. “You’re on pancake duty.”
Dayna caught the mitt, grinning. “Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine.”
Reagan yanked her jacket off the hook by the door. “I’ve got to collect the eggs before the chickens go all cannibal on them. Make the rest of the batch since the Callighans are going to descend on us in the next hour.” She added over her shoulder to Meiner, “Bronagh can eat her weight in pancakes.”
Dayna turned to the stove, placing the oven mitt back on the counter as Reagan slammed the door behind her. “It’s true. Last time she ate five, I counted.” She spotted the teapot and reached for it. “Oh god, I need coffee, but this will have to do.”
Meiner forced herself to smile. “How are you feeling?”
Dayna didn’t look up as she poured the tea into a squat clay mug. “My head is pounding. Where’s Cora and Grandma King?”
Meiner frowned, letting her hand drift to the knife again. “Out,” she said shortly.
Narrowing her eyes, Dayna came to sit on the opposite side of the table, setting her mug down. “Out with it.” When Meiner only stared, Dayna shook a finger at her. “Don’t pretend I didn’t tell you the most embarrassing shit ever last night. We’re a little past shyness, aren’t we?”
Meiner glanced in the direction of the hallway. They still weren’t back yet; probably they’d be a while. Meiner grimaced.
“Something got in that circle, and that doesn’t happen unless someone’s opening a doorway. You heard the conversation after the ascension. She used to do black magic.”
“And you’re worried she still does.” Dayna shuddered, wrapping her slender fingers around her mug.
“I’m pretty sure your Callighans are suspicious.” Meiner shifted, a little uncomfortable. “But they haven’t confronted her.”
Dayna rolled her eyes. “The Callighans won’t interfere with another coven, even if they suspect something’s going on. They’ll wait until shit hits the fan and then tell everyone they told them so. Classic Callighan move.”
There was a moment of silence while Meiner digested this. Dayna got up to pour batter into the pan, and then turned to lean against the stove. “And what do you think your gran is up to?”
Meiner sighed. “If you’re wondering if I know something, the answer is no. But I think she’s hiding something.”
The thought had kept her awake last night. She couldn’t shake it. The easiest thing would be to go through Gran’s room. Black magic left evidence, things Meiner didn’t like to think about.
Dayna turned to place the pancakes in the oven, and Meiner shifted uneasily on the stool, wondering what she was thinking. When Dayna straightened, her face was serious. “If you think there’s something going on that might put us in danger…it makes sense to figure out what it is, right?”
Meiner nodded. It felt weirdly gratifying to be on the same page as Dayna. “Um, your protection charm is here, by the way. Reagan said Bronagh made them for us.”
Dayna scooped the charm off the butter dish and held it between two fingers, examining it carefully before looping the cord around her neck. When she attempted to move the bone charm to the front, she ended up tugging at the cord in irritation. “Shit, it’s caught in my hair.”
Meiner stood up. “Uh, want help?”
“Thanks, I have no idea what’s going on back there.”
Meiner bit her lip, carefully pushing Dayna’s hair to one side, very aware of her fingertips grazing the back of Dayna’s neck as she untangled the leather knot. Dayna’s hair was smooth and clean under her hands, and she got a whiff of vanilla before she stepped back.
“Thanks.” Dayna turned back to face her, and she nodded. For a moment neither of them said anything, and then the fractured sounds from the TV in the living room dropped into the silence between them.
“…another of the strange symbols found at the scene…”
Dayna frowned, moving into the next room to turn it up, with Meiner following right behind her.
“Katherine O’Brien, professional poet and mother of two, was found outside popular tourist spot Kylemore Abbey. Keep in mind, the details of this story may be disturbing to our listeners. More at ten.”
“Shit!” Dayna sank down onto the couch. “This was why we did the ascension. We were supposed to find a way to stop this before he killed again.”
Meiner was frowning at the TV. “That was fast. Don’t most serial killers have…I dunno, time in between?”
“A cool-off period, that’s what it’s called. We were supposed to have weeks.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Samuel was wrong. This happened too soon.”
Another murder. Another symbol at the scene, and, Meiner was willing to bet, another missing body part. Dayna exchanged a look with her, and she could tell they were both thinking the same thing.
They needed to do the group reading now—before another day passed, and another body was found.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DAYNA
Dayna was in the living room helping the Callighans set up when Grandma King walked in, trailed by Meiner carrying a stack of cardboard boxes. “The general store had enough lights to stock Santa’s whole damn village,” she said.
Reagan rubbed her hands together. “Good, let’s do this up right. It will make a great Instagram picture.”
Faye groaned, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “This isn’t a photo op, Reagan. This is serious.”