I tossed and turned all night. By the time I woke up, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. Xi and Klaus were curled on the bottom of the bed and I leaned down to give them a quick snuggle. Thank gods I didn’t have to go into work. I thought about trying for more sleep, and although I felt achy from the restless night, my body didn’t want to stay in a prone position. I glanced at the clock. It was nine-fifteen and I was usually up by seven.
I pushed my way out of bed and stared at the exercise bike I’d bought a couple months ago. I kept it in my bedroom as a reminder, although I hadn’t managed to build up the habit yet, and I decided a little ride might perk me up. I pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and then a sports bra—exercising without one was out of the question—and flipped on the TV. I’d also decided that I liked watching television when I was in bed, and bought a smart TV that I had affixed to the wall, since Klaus kept trying to walk atop it when it was on the dresser. I flipped on Netflix and turned to The Great British Baking Show. Twenty minutes later, I had finished watching the bakers try to make mille-feuille and my joints felt looser. Xi and Klaus acted as though they thought I had lost my mind, but I felt better, and I was ready for a shower.
As I lathered up, scrubbing with a pumpkin spice–scented bath wash, I planned out my day. I had to figure out something for the Witches Guild, which was meeting at nine p.m., and then I needed to run a search on Majikoil. I also wanted to try out a recipe I’d found for chocolate thumbprints, and I needed to make sure I had enough placements and napkins for everybody who was coming.
As I walked back into my bedroom, stark nekkid, I tallied up the number of guests I was expecting for Thanksgiving. I stopped cold, frozen by fear. There was somebody sitting on my bed. I started to scream, but then I blinked and looked again and there was nobody there. Xi and Klaus were sprawled out on the bed, unperturbed, and they gave me a sleepy look. Xi arched her back, and meowed her I’m hungry mew before jumping off the bed and heading for the door.
What the hell? Esmara, are you around? I projected a frantic call to my guardian—my great-aunt Esmara, who, like all my maternal great-aunts who had passed, had joined the other Ladies who watched over the members of my mother’s line. But Esmara was nowhere to be found. Or she didn’t feel like answering—which was also quite possible.
I peeked in my closet, then even under the bed. Nothing. I reached out but couldn’t pick up on any other energies in the room.
“Maybe I’m more tired than I thought,” I muttered. I decided the hallucination was due to not enough sleep and too much to do.
I turned to my closet, and chose a full-circle black skirt, along with a vivid cobalt V-neck sweater. A wide stretchy black belt complemented the retro look, and I smiled at my reflection. I cleaned up rather sexy at that! I paired the outfit with chunky-heeled Mary Janes, and then brushed my hair back and held it with a satin headband, and put on my makeup. Staring in the mirror, I looked ready to meet the day, even if I didn’t feel like it.
As I headed downstairs, I kept an eye out for anything amiss, but everything seemed perfectly normal. The cats were impatiently waiting by their food dishes, and I doled out their breakfast, then flipped on the espresso machine. While it heated up, I studied the contents of the refrigerator, trying to decide what I wanted for breakfast. There wasn’t much that I wasn’t already planning on using for Thanksgiving, so I finally popped a frozen personal-size pepperoni pizza into the toaster oven while I made myself a triple mocha.
As I waited for it to bake, something drew me to the back porch, which spanned the entire back of the house. It was screened in, so during the summer I could throw outdoor parties without the mosquitoes divebombing us. I stepped out into the brisk morning air. There was a shimmer from the far end of my property, down by the Mystic Wood.
Frowning, I decided to check it out. I descended the porch steps and cautiously made my way across the lawn. Chunky heels were far easier than stilettos, but the ground was saturated and I still had to be cautious to avoid the muddy parts. It occurred to me that I might want to run a sidewalk down through the lawn for easy access. Or at least a path made of pavers.
I reached the border of the wood and immediately knew what had caught my attention. There, standing near the trailhead, was Rebecca. The imp had tried to kill me when I was a child, but in the past few months, we seemed to have reached an understanding. Rebecca looked like a golden-haired little girl, though if you stared into her eyes, anybody with any psychic sense could tell her looks were a glamour.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked. I still didn’t like her or trust her, but had found her to be useful, so I reined in my inclination to be snide. She had developed a taste for Killian’s barbecued baby-back ribs, and a slab of them went a long way in securing her cooperation.
“I had a feeling you might be looking for me,” she said, her gaze fluttering around.
That was a new one. Rebecca was usually focused on how she could help herself. She wasn’t what you’d call altruistic. But then again, imps were minor demons. That was standard behavior for them.
I glanced over my shoulder. My pizza would be done soon. “I’m not sure. There have been a lot of odd things going on lately. Do you have any sense of something that’s moved into the Wood? Like the Whatcom Devil?”
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, but there’s something near that feels new and odd.”
“Tell you what, if I need you, I’ll tie a blue ribbon on that huckleberry right there.” I pointed to the bush to the left of the trailhead. “Then I’ll come out here that night. So check the bush daily, if you could.” I paused, not knowing what was possessing me, and asked, “Do you like turkey?”
She thought for a moment. “You mean the big birds your kind eats every year around this time?”
“Yeah, those are turkeys.”
“Not really—they’re kind of dry.”
“All right. I’ll see you later. My breakfast is waiting.” Relieved she hadn’t said yes—I had been two shakes short of inviting her to Thanksgiving—I returned to the house. But when I glanced over my shoulder, she was standing there near the trailhead, watching.
Chapter Six
Given my laptop cord had melted, I packed up my laptop along with my tablet and a notebook, and headed downtown. I’d drop the computer off to be checked out, and then I’d hit the Garrison Library for research.
I found a parking space right in front of Byte Your Tongue. Despite the cheesy name, they were a good repair place for tech. Even better, they were open for business, and I was first in line. Hoping my lucky streak held, I handed over my laptop, told them the problem, and showed them the melted power cord.
The tech stared at the cord, then tapped away at his keyboard. “Okay, right. I think I found your problem. The cords on this model number were recalled last year. Didn’t you get a notice via email?”
I grimaced, shrugging. “I have no idea. I don’t read half the email I get. So, is it just the cord or did the meltdown affect my computer, too?”
“I’ll have to run a diagnostic on it. If you can leave me your password, I’ll get to this as soon as I can. Next week, we’re going to be missing several staff members—”