about Sugar Maple.” She reached out her hand to me but the look in my eyes stopped her cold. “I don’t mean to be harsh, honey, but even if she had the option, I don’t see Guinevere riding in to save the day.”
Everything Janice said was true. My mother had loved me but not enough to stick around for the long haul. And not enough to find a way to ease my pain. The idea that she would suddenly show up in my life in time to save me from meeting an untimely end at a highway rest stop in central Massachusetts was pretty ridiculous.
But the smell of her perfume . . . the sense of being surrounded by love . . .
Nobody could tell me that wasn’t real.
From that point on, it was clear sailing.
The Buick drove like a Maserati. The few gallons of gas Luke procured at the rest stop somehow kept the tank filled. Penny the cat slept, yawned, demanded head skritches, and didn’t require the litter box.
I handed the driving over to Luke about eighty miles outside of Salem. The traffic had picked up, along with the pace, and since I don’t drive over thirty miles an hour unless I have to, I considered it a humanitarian gesture on my part.
I’m not sure whether or not Luke believed my story but he had my back just the same. Which was one of the many reasons I loved him. The whole parallel-dimension thing had to be tough for a literal-minded cop to process. Before my powers kicked in, I would have had a tough time with it, too—and I had grown up in Sugar Maple, surrounded by magick.
About thirty miles outside of Salem, I lowered the window a few inches and breathed deeply.
“I smell the ocean,” I said.
Both Luke and Janice laughed.
“I smell pollen,” Janice said.
“Give it another twenty miles,” Luke advised. “Then you’ll smell the ocean.”
“Seriously,” I said. “It’s all briny out there.”
“Lorcan claims he can smell the ocean from our back porch,” Janice said. “He says—” Her voice broke and she buried her face in her almost-finished sock.
I unlatched my seat belt and scrambled around to face the backseat. My powerful, beautiful friend looked small and fragile and painfully vulnerable. I rested my hand on her shoulder.
“Damn it,” she said. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”
“Nothing wrong with crying,” Luke said.
“He’s right,” I agreed. “Let it out.”
She fumbled around for a napkin then blew her nose. “Screw crying,” she said. “We’ll be in Salem before we know it. What are we going to do once we get there?”
Luke clicked on his left-turn signal and moved smoothly into the fast lane. “Whip the bad guys’ asses and save Sugar Maple.”
It sounded like a plan to me.
13
LUKE A FEW MILES NORTH OF SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS
“There’s a Target a few miles ahead,” I said. “We’ll stop and pick up clean clothes, toiletries, and a cat carrier.”
“I don’t think we’ll need it,” Janice said. “Penny’s back to her old self.”
“Luke’s right,” Chloe said. “Why take any chances?”
I’d climbed enough trees for one day.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Disposable cell phones.”
“Cell phones?” Janice made a dismissive gesture I caught in the rearview mirror. “We have blueflame.”
“Luke doesn’t. If we don’t have cells, too, he can’t reach us.”
“I’d ditch the blueflame unless you’re sure you’re alone.” Their method of communication rocked, but speaking into a handful of blue fire wasn’t likely to go unnoticed.
Chloe took down her ponytail, ran her hands through her hair, then gathered it up again and caught it in one of those colorful scrunchy things. “How do you know there’s a Target coming up?” she asked me.
“I grew up here, remember?”
“I totally forgot,” she said. “How close are we to your old hometown?”
“Couple of miles,” I said. “About halfway between the Target and Salem.” I worked summers schlepping tourists back and forth to Cape Ann for the whale-watching
Everything Janice said was true. My mother had loved me but not enough to stick around for the long haul. And not enough to find a way to ease my pain. The idea that she would suddenly show up in my life in time to save me from meeting an untimely end at a highway rest stop in central Massachusetts was pretty ridiculous.
But the smell of her perfume . . . the sense of being surrounded by love . . .
Nobody could tell me that wasn’t real.
From that point on, it was clear sailing.
The Buick drove like a Maserati. The few gallons of gas Luke procured at the rest stop somehow kept the tank filled. Penny the cat slept, yawned, demanded head skritches, and didn’t require the litter box.
I handed the driving over to Luke about eighty miles outside of Salem. The traffic had picked up, along with the pace, and since I don’t drive over thirty miles an hour unless I have to, I considered it a humanitarian gesture on my part.
I’m not sure whether or not Luke believed my story but he had my back just the same. Which was one of the many reasons I loved him. The whole parallel-dimension thing had to be tough for a literal-minded cop to process. Before my powers kicked in, I would have had a tough time with it, too—and I had grown up in Sugar Maple, surrounded by magick.
About thirty miles outside of Salem, I lowered the window a few inches and breathed deeply.
“I smell the ocean,” I said.
Both Luke and Janice laughed.
“I smell pollen,” Janice said.
“Give it another twenty miles,” Luke advised. “Then you’ll smell the ocean.”
“Seriously,” I said. “It’s all briny out there.”
“Lorcan claims he can smell the ocean from our back porch,” Janice said. “He says—” Her voice broke and she buried her face in her almost-finished sock.
I unlatched my seat belt and scrambled around to face the backseat. My powerful, beautiful friend looked small and fragile and painfully vulnerable. I rested my hand on her shoulder.
“Damn it,” she said. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”
“Nothing wrong with crying,” Luke said.
“He’s right,” I agreed. “Let it out.”
She fumbled around for a napkin then blew her nose. “Screw crying,” she said. “We’ll be in Salem before we know it. What are we going to do once we get there?”
Luke clicked on his left-turn signal and moved smoothly into the fast lane. “Whip the bad guys’ asses and save Sugar Maple.”
It sounded like a plan to me.
13
LUKE A FEW MILES NORTH OF SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS
“There’s a Target a few miles ahead,” I said. “We’ll stop and pick up clean clothes, toiletries, and a cat carrier.”
“I don’t think we’ll need it,” Janice said. “Penny’s back to her old self.”
“Luke’s right,” Chloe said. “Why take any chances?”
I’d climbed enough trees for one day.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Disposable cell phones.”
“Cell phones?” Janice made a dismissive gesture I caught in the rearview mirror. “We have blueflame.”
“Luke doesn’t. If we don’t have cells, too, he can’t reach us.”
“I’d ditch the blueflame unless you’re sure you’re alone.” Their method of communication rocked, but speaking into a handful of blue fire wasn’t likely to go unnoticed.
Chloe took down her ponytail, ran her hands through her hair, then gathered it up again and caught it in one of those colorful scrunchy things. “How do you know there’s a Target coming up?” she asked me.
“I grew up here, remember?”
“I totally forgot,” she said. “How close are we to your old hometown?”
“Couple of miles,” I said. “About halfway between the Target and Salem.” I worked summers schlepping tourists back and forth to Cape Ann for the whale-watching
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