I was in the process of pulling the casserole out of the oven when Thorn came through the front door. He’d ended up putting in a full day of work, and I wondered when he’d get the chance to make up for it. With a new dead body, it wasn’t like he’d just be able to move his day off to the next day.
“That smells good,” Thorn called from the living room. “Tater tot casserole?”
“It is,” I called back.
“Where’s Laney? Is she still with your parents?”
“She’s in here,” I said. “She was asleep.”
Thorn appeared in the dining room. “Oh, sorry,” he said, but he his smile stretched from ear to ear.
Laney wasn’t the least bit fussy about being woken from her nap. She sat up and stretched her arms out so Thorn could scoop her up, which he did immediately.
“Don’t worry, mama. I got this,” He said and gave her an Eskimo kiss.
“I’ll get dinner plated up,” I said. “Try to get her back to sleep. If not, she can just play in there while we eat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Thorn said with a mock salute.
Dinner was quiet other than the sound of Laney quietly babbling and watching us eat. By the time we’d finished our food, she’d fallen asleep again.
Thorn looked troubled, and when I was clearing the dishes was the first time I noticed. “Are you all right?” I asked.
“Just worrying about the case,” he said.
“Are you going to tell me?” I asked. “I mean, what part of it is bothering you?”
“I don’t suppose you’d let it go if I told you not to worry about it?” he asked.
“I mean, I guess I could,” I said.
Thorn let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t expect you to, and besides, you’re sort of involved.”
“Oh, wait, I’m not a suspect, am I?” I asked as I put the dishes in the sink.
“I’ll dry,” Thorn said. “And then I need to get to bed. I’ve got an early meeting with the FBI.”
“The FBI?” I asked.
“We don’t have forensic confirmation yet, but we think we have an identity on the skeleton,” Thorn said.
“Oh.”
Laney fussed a little but rolled over and went back to sleep. I nearly told Thorn to forget about it because I didn’t want to know, but I didn’t.
“She was a possible missing teenage runaway,” Thorn said. “She was a minor when she ran away from home, but she’d be eighteen now.”
“How long ago did she turn eighteen?” I asked.
“About six months,” Thorn said.
“So, she could have died before,” I said.
“She was a kid either way,” Thorn said. “Just because she crossed some magical legal line… she was still a kid.”
“A teenage runaway,” I said.
“She could have been…” Thorn trailed off and didn’t finish his sentence.
At first I wasn’t sure what he was so upset about, but then it dawned on me. He was thinking that she could have been…
“She could have been me,” I said. “Thorn, I, like, ran away and went to college. I had a scholarship. It wasn’t the same thing, right?”
“You assume too much,” he said.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I responded.
“I can’t get into this. We don’t even know for sure if it’s her,” Thorn said. “I’m sorry. I need to go to bed.”
I understood. Curiosity was burning in my chest and pricking at the back of my brain like an itch I couldn’t scratch, but there was also the part of me that didn’t want to be involved.
That night I dreamed of Samara and the ghost who had led us to the skeleton in Nora’s basement. They were joined by a teenager who looked a lot like me, but she wasn’t quite me.
The nightmare was interrupted by the sound of screaming. When the screaming stopped, Laney started to cry. It was all followed by the thunder of Thorn running down the stairs.
I’d fallen asleep on the sofa again, and Laney had been snoozing in her playpen. I’d woken her from her slumber with my screaming.
It had been months since I’d had night terrors, and I’d thought it was over. Thorn picked Laney up and she immediately stopped crying. But she was peering at me with fat tears threatening to spill over from her glassy blue eyes.
“Are you all right?” Thorn asked. “Was it a nightmare?”
“So it was me screaming?” I tried to confirm.
“It was,” he said and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You’re burning up,” he said. “You’ve got a fever.”
“That’s impossible,” I said.
But I had a splitting headache, and my body hurt almost as much. When I tried to stand up from the sofa, it felt like all of my limbs were made of lead.
“You’re burning up,” Thorn repeated. “You’ve got a fever, and from what I can feel, it’s a doozy.”
“I don’t get sick,” I said.
I’d never been sick in my life. I had no idea what to even do.
“Well, you are now,” Thorn said. “Why don’t you lie back down on the sofa. Laney’s calm, so we’ll get you some tea and medicine.”
“Meri can heal me,” I protested.
“I’ve been lying on you the entire time,” Meri said, and then he sneezed so hard, he fell of the couch.
“Is the cat sick too?” Thorn asked.
“He can’t be,” I said. “He can’t be killed.”
“Doesn’t mean he can’t get sick,” Thorn said.
“That’s got to be impossible,” I retorted. “Cats and humans can’t get the same cold.”
“Well, you’re not just a human and he’s not just a cat. I’d say there’s no precedence for this,” Thorn said. “Lie down and I’ll get you some tea and Tylenol for the fever.”
“Should I take my temperature?” I asked, remembering that’s what people on television did when they got sick. “There’s a thermometer in Laney’s things. Someone gave us a kit as a gift.”
Not all of my well-wishers after Laney was born were witches. I’d gotten some human-type gifts from people. They didn’t know that witches can’t get sick.
“Oh, no, the baby!” I exclaimed. “What if she gets this?”
“She seems fine,” Thorn said. “Besides, babies get colds. It’s not the end of the world.”
It sure felt like it.
“You need to go back to bed,” I said. “You’ve got that early meeting.”
“Oh, sweetie. I’m up now,” Thorn said with a chuckle. “That scream ensured that I won’t be going back to sleep. I’ll get you the tea and Tylenol. I’ve got to call Jeremy and see if he can handle the meeting with the FBI.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be all right. I feel like crap, but I think I can manage. The Tylenol will make the fever go away, right?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty good at that,” Thorn said.
“So some medicine and some matcha and yerba mate tea will fix me right up,” I said. “Bacon for Meri.”
“That will help considerably,” Meri said.
“I’m going to call your mom then,” Thorn said.
“No, you cannot have her come over here. If she gets sick…” I said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t expose them anymore than I already have.”
“I at least want her on standby, Kinsley. If I’m going to leave for work, I at least want to know you’ve got backup in case you get sicker,” Thorn said.
“Okay,” I relented. “But tell her not to come here. I will call her if I need her badly.”
An hour later, Thorn was gone to work and my mom was on my front porch knocking. “Mom,” I said as I opened the front door. “You didn’t have to come here. You shouldn’t have come here. I could get you sick.”
She waved me off and stepped into the house. “Please, Kinsley. You constantly forget that I grew up in the human world. I didn’t even come to Coventry unti
l I was in my thirties. My powers had shriveled into nothingness before I got here. So, I’ve been sick before. I’ve got a fully functioning human immune system thanks to having colds, flu, chickenpox, and everything in between.”
I looked at her horrified.
“Yeah, I had chickenpox.”
“You don’t think I have chickenpox, do you?” I asked.
Mom laughed. “No, sweetie,” she said and put the back of her hand against my head. “What are your other symptoms?”
“I’m a little tired. More so than usual. My body sort of feels like concrete when I move my arms and legs. Oh, and a headache,” I said.
“Where is the headache?” she asked.
“It’s around here,” I said and pointed to the sides of my nose, my eyes, and my eyebrows.
“That sounds like your sinuses. Anything else?” she asked.
“Meri sneezed,” I said. “He seems to be sick too. Oh, and I woke up screaming and scared Laney.”
“Any cough? What about your throat?” Mom asked.
“I haven’t had a cough,” I said. “There might be a tickle in the back of my throat now that I’m paying attention.”
“Sounds like it’s probably just a bad cold, but we’ll keep an eye on it,” Mom said.
“I really don’t want you to get sick, Mom. Even if it’s just a cold, I’m not sure if you should stay here and risk it,” I said.
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t want me here?” Mom asked, but her voice betrayed no emotion.
It wasn’t a manipulation. She really wanted to know, and I was certain if I told her I’d rather be alone, she would have left with no hard feelings. But that wasn’t the case at all. I really was just worried about her.
“No, Mom. I’m just worried about you. And dad too. All the Aunties. If I’m not protected, then you guys aren’t either,” I said.
“Well, I’m protected by a giant dose of elderberry, echinacea, and vitamin C I took before I came here,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve got some for you too. Oh, and I brought the stuff to make chicken soup,” she said and patted her bag. “So, you and Meri settle in on the sofa to watch a movie, and I’ll make soup.”
There was no talking her out of it, so I gave her a hug and did what she said. It wasn’t lost on me that she was getting the chance to be my mom again. I’d taken that from her when I left at seventeen. I thought I was a big-time adult making real grown-up decisions, but I’d bet she had a lot of years of mothering left in her.
And as much as I wouldn’t want to admit it to myself, it felt good to have her there to take care of me. Although, after about another half an hour, the Tylenol had fully kicked in, and I felt a great deal better.
I wandered into the kitchen where she was ladling soup into one of my ceramic bowls. “Hey, you’re supposed to be resting,” Mom protested.
“I feel better,” I said. “Thorn gave me tea and medicine before you got here, and I think it’s kicking in.”
“I’d feel better with some bacon,” Meri said as he sashayed into the kitchen behind me.
“You feeling better, buddy?” I asked.
He scowled at me. “No, but like I said, bacon would help.”
“I’ll get it,” I replied with a chuckle.
“No, I’ll get it,” Mom sidestepped and blocked my path to the fridge.
“Really, Mom. I’m feeling much better,” I said.
“That’s just because of the Tylenol, sweetie. You don’t want to push yourself too hard because you’re artificially feeling better,” she said.
Just then, Laney started to fuss a little. “I’ll change her,” I said. “You can take care of Meri and get the soup ready. Do people even eat soup for breakfast?”
“I can make you something else,” she said.
“That’s not what I mean. Sorry I teased. It smells amazing,” I said.
“Well, good. That means your head isn’t all blocked up. The soup will help with that even more.”
“Be right back,” I said.
I picked Laney up from her playpen and took her to the changing table. After a fresh diaper and some new jammies, she was smiling and making a game of poking me in the cheek. I started making a fish face and blowing when she did it which made Laney cackle hysterically.
I was about to head back into the kitchen with her when someone knocked on the door. “Grand Central Station here today,” I said.
Since I was already feeling so much better, I opened the door. I’d completely forgotten that I was terrified of getting everyone sick. Dorian stood on the other side of the threshold somehow looking both serious and excited.
“Dorian,” I said. “Come in.”
“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to give him the plague?” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Crap, right. Dorian, I’m sick,” I said. “I’ve got a fever, and I woke up feeling like crap.”
“Oh,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. “Is it serious?”
“Mom says it’s probably just a cold, but maybe you shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to get you sick,” I said.
“A cold?” he said with a laugh. “Jeez, Kinsley, your tone of voice made it sound like the plague had returned for real. It’s fine. I’ve got an immune system of iron. I’m comfortable taking my chances.”
“Well, we’re about to have soup. Would you like to join us?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “I came here to talk to you about some stuff. We can do that over soup. And coffee?”
“Coffee’s just about done,” Mom said as we walked into the kitchen. She got Dorian a bowl of soup and then took Laney from me. Mom put her in the highchair and then made her a bowl with just broth and some carrots. “I’ll feed her once it’s cooled enough.”
I got Dorian and myself a cup of coffee, and we sat down at the table. “Wait, is this your first time being sick?” Dorian asked.
“How did you guess?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a production made over a cold,” he said. “It’s sweet,” he said to my Mom.
“Witches don’t usually get sick,” I said. “At least not this close to the ley line.”
“You haven’t told me enough about what’s going on with you,” Dorian said. “Maybe we could discuss it on a little outing? You know, like we used to…”
“But I’m sick,” I said.
“I know. I should have called or texted you first,” Dorian replied. “I was just so excited that I headed over here right after Isaac left this morning. I dropped Buffy off with the neighbor that babysits her and drove straight here.”
“Your neighbor babysits your dog?” I asked.
“She loves it,” Dorian said.
“The neighbor or the dog?” Mom asked.
“Both,” Dorian chuckled. “I hate just leaving Buffy alone in the house, and Mrs. Kennedy likes having a part-time dog. She says she’s too old to have one all to herself, but getting to borrow one is the perfect arrangement.”
“I am feeling better,” I said. “What got you so excited that you rushed over here? Maybe I could use a little fresh air. I thought I read somewhere it was good for the immune system not to stay cooped up inside when you’re sick.”
Mom was giving me the eye, but she didn’t come out and say anything. I knew that no matter how silly she thought I was being, she wouldn’t pass up the chance to watch Laney. Plus, she was already at our house and had planned to stay all day. It was perfect. Other than the fever thing, but that was under control.
“So, I was listening to the police scanner yesterday, and they found the missing girl’s campsite,” Dorian said.
“What?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure or not if it was hers. Nobody has even confirmed it’s her yet, but there is an abandoned campsite,” Dorian said.
“But, Dorian, that body was a skeleton. She had to have been dead for a while. Weeks under the best of circumstances, but probably more like months,” I said. “How coul
d a campsite still be there after all that time?”
“Well, it turns out that the guy that runs the campgrounds isn’t a very good businessman. So, even though the rent on the campsite hadn’t been paid for months, he hadn’t done anything about it. She was renting a crappy site that nobody ever wanted, and the meager rent wasn’t enough for him to haul his butt down there and do anything about it,” Dorian said. “So, it’s all just still sitting there.”
Black Arts & Bones (Familiar Kitten Mysteries Book 11) Page 6
