“Here.” Meiner started forward, suddenly so close that Dayna jumped. She was tall enough that Dayna had to tip her head back to meet her eyes. She froze as Meiner seized her wrist, pressing the tea into her hand.
“Go on, then, it’s yours.”
For a second, the taller girl held on, fingers loosely wrapped around Dayna’s wrist, and Dayna blinked up at her, startled. Then the girl let go, stepping back with a smirk.
“Uh, thanks.” Dayna held on to the tea a little tighter than necessary. She hadn’t expected Meiner to give in so suddenly, and now she felt a bit silly. She’d really been ready to fight with a stranger just now. Over tea. What the hell is wrong with me?
Her face felt hot, and she opened her mouth—she wasn’t sure what she planned to say—but Meiner was already turning away. The others followed without a backward look.
The awkwardness wasn’t over, though, because she realized a moment later she couldn’t just walk out. She had to pay, and she could already hear them at the counter.
Their voices drifted down the aisle, first the low, raspy tones of Meiner and then the higher, sweeter voice of Margery.
“I believe I’ve got overstock in the back. I’ll check for you, love.”
Dayna snorted. The idea of calling that girl love…
Her phone chimed, and she winced. She hadn’t meant to stand in the aisle waffling, but now it was going to be obvious she hadn’t moved from the spot.
She glanced down at Reagan’s message, irritated.
Get your ass over here, the coven is waiting. Interesting developments.
Dayna frowned, typing back a quick OMW before turning for the counter and nearly running into Meiner again, who smirked and brushed white hair off her shoulder. She held up her own satchel. “Guess they had some. Day saved.”
“Well, great,” Dayna said automatically. Her phone pinged again.
Bronagh is freaking out. Def something she’s not saying.
“Uh, see you around.” Dayna left the frowning Meiner standing in her wake as she hurried to the counter.
She was so preoccupied that she bumped into a muscular blond boy on the way out. He caught her arm, steadying her, and she got a strong whiff of cigarette smoke. The scent made her inhale sharply, and she forced herself to concentrate on the moment, instead of the thought of the smoke entering her lungs.
The boy grinned, a toothpaste-commercial smile, and Dayna mumbled an apology before hurrying to her car.
Even completely preoccupied with forcing her thoughts into line, she couldn’t help thinking about Meiner. She was effortlessly confident. Down to the way she held herself, like she couldn’t care less if you disapproved.
It was a trait Dayna found particularly annoying.
CHAPTER FOUR
MEINER
The last thing Meiner King wanted was to return to Carman, to this goddamn backwoods village in the middle of nowhere. So, of course, that was exactly what her coven asked her to do.
They’d driven four hours to get here, and it was just beginning to get dark. They’d gone from the moss-draped forests and white-capped rivers of Limerick County to long stretches of flat countryside broken only by scrubby, uneven walls of shrubs and punctuated by cattle and clumps of dopey sheep. As they drew closer to town, houses cropped up here and there, tiny and picturesque, peak-roofed bungalows with old-fashioned stone siding.
Meiner had driven on, silently hating every one of them.
Finally they’d passed the Welcome to Carman sign, the streetlights illuminating a green-and-white-trimmed board surrounded by wilted geraniums. Seeing it brought back a flood of unwelcome memories.
That, together with thoughts of the girl from the store, distracted her enough for the car to drift toward the other lane. She jerked it back just as Cora said from the passenger seat, “God, Meiner. Do you mind not trying to kill us?”
This was followed by the pop and snap of gum, and Meiner tightened her grip on the wheel, her entire being pulsing with annoyance. “Shut the fuck up, Cora.”
Cora snapped her gum defiantly. “Sure and I will, if you’ll stop being a miserable bitch.”
Meiner clamped her mouth shut, nostrils flaring. She was at the very end of her thin rope of patience. Stomping down on the gas made the car rattle beneath her, and the engine gave a satisfying roar. In the passenger seat Cora stiffened. “You’re going too—”
A thunderous snore from the backseat interrupted her. Since the car was crammed with luggage, Grandma King was wedged against the door, but it didn’t seem to bother the old woman. She’d fallen asleep the second they’d left the shop, face pressed against the window, gray curls falling in her eyes. Her mouth was open, quivering wider with each uproarious snore.
In waking life, Grandma King was a refined elder, one of the most powerful witches in Ireland. A woman who ruled her coven with iron-fisted dignity.
In sleep she was a sloppy mess.
Meiner snorted in disgust, refocusing on the road. Well, she had been a powerful witch. The truth was, Meiner wasn’t sure what her grandmother was now. A doddering senior, maybe, if appearances were to be believed.
She glanced at the woman in the rearview mirror, eyes narrow. Grandma King’s face was peaceful in sleep, an unusual expression for someone normally in the middle of saying something biting.
“This is a terrible idea.” It had to be the tenth time Meiner said it, and it didn’t get any less true. She hated this hick town, with its dirt roads and empty fields and the church that overshadowed everything. Places like this weren’t just boring, they were poisonous. Dangerous to people like her, both as a witch and a queer girl. Neither part of her was welcome.
Cora leaned forward, peering at clusters of idyllic, thatched-roofed houses. The homes were surrounded by neat garden beds and carefully cultivated trees. “Maybe, but at least it’s something to do. This is the town you lived in before your gran left her old coven, isn’t it?”
This was delivered in the sly, underhanded way Cora had when she knew she was poking a sore spot. Meiner’s temper was never far beneath the surface, and Cora seemed to pride herself on pushing her.
Even knowing Cora was deliberately trying to aggravate her was enough to start her blood rushing in her ears. Meiner didn’t answer, only clenched her teeth and stared at the road. She wished she were back home where she could retreat to the basement and batter herself senseless against the punching bag. Expend some of this restless, buzzing energy.
“So why’d she get kicked out?” Cora snapped her gum again, and Meiner glanced over, annoyed.
“She didn’t say she got kicked out, just that she left.”
Cora snorted. “Right. That’s why you guys up and skipped town.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t want to admit she’d guessed the same thing a long time ago. Gran didn’t talk about Carman or her last coven, and Meiner had never dared ask.
Cora didn’t jump when Meiner slammed her fist into the steering wheel. “Gran has one vague premonition and we go running back to this place to join a bunch of strangers.”
A wheezing groan from the back made Meiner stiffen, knuckles white on the wheel. She turned, dismayed to see her grandmother blinking around the inside of the car. “Where the bloody hell are we?”