And just like that, they were gone.
Well, not exactly gone; he could hear them arguing on the stairs and in the courtyard and out on the sidewalk, but the store practically echoed with their absence.
Allie took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she closed the distance between them, slid her arms around Graham’s waist, and rested her head on his shoulder. “That could have gone worse,” she admitted as his hands spread warm and comforting across her lower back.
And all at once, the store was full of aunties again—down the stairs, in from the courtyard, spilling out of the bus and back in through the front door. Barely daring to breathe, Allie lifted her head and met Auntie Jane’s gaze. She couldn’t see a demarcation between pupil and iris. She could barely see any whites.
Auntie Jane’s lips curled into the second scariest smile Allie had ever seen.
“Well, well, well,” she said.
Then the aunties were gone again.
“Okay, that was weird.” Katie’s voice pulled Allie out of the circle of Graham’s arms although she kept her hand in his. “Any ideas?”
Allie shook her head. “I was going to ask you.”
“Not a clue. But hey, still third circle, what do I know. Hi, I’m Katie,” she directed a slightly harried grin in Graham’s direction. “Just so you know, if you were just fooling around with Allie, I’d be open to joining in because, seriously, those are a pair of fine looking shoulders and my breasts are larger, but since you clearly aren’t just fooling around, it’s nice to meet you. Now, please tell me Rol’s upstairs running interference for that poor kid.”
It took Allie a moment to realize the poor kid referenced was Jack. The Dragon Prince.
“He should be.” Allie turned to Graham who nodded, looking a little stunned.
“Charlie’s there, too,” he told them. “I think she’s teaching Jack how to download Torchwood.”
“She’s probably teaching him how to surf for porn,” Allie sighed. “Just as illegal but more likely to piss off Auntie Jane.”
“Either way,” Katie sighed, “we need to get up there.”
“Rol can hold them for a few minutes.”
“Roland?” Graham asked.
“You’ve only seen the geeky lawyer in the sweater vest,” Allie told him, searching the store for Joe. “When a Gale boy turns on the charm, even the aunties pause to appreciate…” She managed to keep the girly shriek down to a single syllable since she’d half expected Joe to fade in behind the counter—and there he was. “Are you okay?”
His cheeks were flushed, and his lower lip was full and red like he’d been biting it. “Your Auntie Gwen kept groping me.”
“She could see you?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t seem to matter, did it?”
Allie glanced over at her cousin who responded with the universal eye roll of how the hell should I know? “If you tell her to stop, she will. But you have to tell her flat out.”
“Yeah, well…” Joe shrugged again.
“Are you…?” Allie waved a hand, indicating the store, the counter, and the possibility of selling another yoyo.
“Oh, I’m good down here.” He gripped the edge of the counter with both hands, and Allie suspected it would take all three of them working together to break his hold.
As they passed the mirror, their reflections walked by the writhing body of a white Dragon Lord being pecked to pieces by crows. Allie’s reflection suddenly became a feminized version of the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. When she spread her arms, just to see what would happen, the crows flew away.
“Not exactly subtle,” Katie pointed out. “And why isn’t Graham naked?”
Graham’s clothing began to fade. Allie touched her fingertips to the glass. “Stop it,” she said quietly, and Graham’s clothes returned. Plus a parka, a toque, snowmobile boots, and a pair of enormous, gauntleted ski mitts. “Thank you. How did you know the mirror would do that?” she demanded of her cousin.
Katie sighed. “Gran’s mirror.” The “duh” remained unspoken but present. “And if I hadn’t already known you were crossing, that would have given it away.” She started up the stairs. “Second circle is so possessive it’s a bit creepy.”
“I’m not…”
“Allie, you’ve written mine on a leprechaun. And Graham. And Michael, again. And, I’m guessing, on a Dragon Prince.” Leaning back, she stuck her head around the corner into the lower hall. “You’ve been here a week. If that’s not possessive, I don’t know what is.”
“Preemptive.”
“Potato, potahto, Allie-cat.”
When Katie waved and disappeared, Allie returned her attention to the mirror. “Don’t worry,” she told it, lightly gripping the frame. “I won’t let them destroy Jack.”
“Are you sure,” Graham began, touching his hair with a bare hand while watching his reflection poke at the hat with a mitten tip. “… that’s Jack?” he finished as Allie shot him a look that said, Don’t undermine my authority with the mirror. She knew he’d been going to say, “Are you sure you can?” and was impressed he’d understood her message.
“If it’s possible to prevent it, I’d rather the aunties didn’t eat any of the Dragon Lords alive.”
“Are they likely to?”
Linking her fingers with his, she tugged him toward the stairs. “Depends.” With any luck he wouldn’t ask depends on what? “You didn’t happen to count the crows did you? The ones in the mirror?”
“No, why?”
“Well, it was hard to tell since they were never still, but as they flew away, I could’ve sworn there were thirteen.”
“Is that important? Thirteen crows?”
Allie glanced back, lower lip caught between her teeth. “It means something,” she said slowly. “I’m sure of that, I’m just not sure what.”
“In Mesoamerican divination, thirteen is the number of important cycles of fortune and misfortune. Loki was the thirteenth guest at a banquet where he killed Baldur beginning Ragnarok. Thirteen nodes make up the Metatron’s Cube.” When Allie stopped climbing and turned to face him, he grinned. “I wrote an article on Triskaidekaphobia for our second issue.”
“I keep forgetting you have a secret identity.”
“Had.” The grin flattened. “He might have moved out of the office, but he still runs the paper.”
“Remember, it isn’t over until the fat lady sings.” She brushed a strand of hair back off his face. “In this case, that would be Auntie Kay. If she starts in on Andrew Lloyd Webber, run.”
Graham frowned. “Why?”
“She’s really, really bad.”
They entered the apartment just in time to see Roland step in front of Jack and say, “Auntie Bea! He’s thirteen!”
Since Jack looked more intrigued than upset, Allie decided she didn’t need to know the context. And anyway, Auntie Jane stepped forward before she could say anything, moving around Roland—or possibly moving Roland, Allie couldn’t be positive which—and pinching Jack’s chin between thumb and forefinger.
“Oh, yes,” she murmured, turning his head to the right and then to the left. From where Allie was standing it looked very much like she was peering up his nose. “You’re family, all right.”
Allie rolled her eyes and pushed her way through the crowd of aunties—and six aunties were more than capable of seeming like a crowd. “He’s family because I claimed him, Auntie Jane.” All the charms but the one on his forehead were covered by clothing but should have made no difference to an auntie.
“He’s family because of blood, Alysha Catherine.”
“Blood?” Her cousins, standing together behind Jack in a show of generation unity, returned I have no idea what she’s talking about expressions. “We’re related to the Dragon Lords?”