“Don’t think like that,” he chided. “They’re not bitter. Like I said, they’re good people, and you carrying twins just makes their day. You could stay here as long as you wanted—you and the kids—and they’d be delighted. There’s nothing they won’t do for you.” His words sent a disconcerting reminder of Dorian’s constant What wouldn’t I do for you? quip.
I wondered if Roland had known about the Reeds’ childless state when he’d decided on this location for me. Had he guessed their situation would add an extra level of protectiveness?
“I don’t know what to say. I just don’t feel like ... I don’t know. I’m just kind of overwhelmed by it all. I don’t think I can pay them back for this.”
“Just accept it and let them take care of you,” Evan said with a wink. “That’s plenty of payback for them, believe me.” He moved toward the door and stifled a yawn. “I’ve got to head out before I fall over, but I’ll give you a call soon if you do want to go check out the space center. And if you don’t, then just say so. Don’t let Candace pressure you.”
“No,” I said truthfully. “It sounds like fun.”
Evan left, and the rest of the household began winding down. Both Charles and Candace went out of their way to make sure I didn’t need anything else before going to bed. I assured them I was fine and then finally shut the door on my little room. With a sigh, I stretched out on top of my bed.
“What have I done?” I murmured, staring up at the pine slats. One day I was the queen of a fairy kingdom, commanding armies and wielding powerful magic. The next, I was out in the country, the darling of a good-hearted family whose only motivations were kindness and affection to others. It left me confused and unsure of what exactly I wanted in the world. And weirdly, for the first time since I’d left the Otherworld and begun my manic journey, I truly felt alone. I’d abandoned a lifestyle that—while dangerous—was familiar and beloved. Now, I was in a much simpler, easier world ... but I questioned if I’d ever truly feel like I belonged in it.
Dorian’s face played through my mind again, and I forcibly pushed him away.
A small fluttering in my stomach made me jerk upright. I sat there in disbelief, staring around foolishly. What was that? Had that been ... ? Tentatively, I rested a hand on my abdomen, waiting for a repeat. There was none. I tried to remember what the doctor had said about the babies moving. I remembered the fish analogy and—most importantly—her comment that it wouldn’t feel like something trying to kick its way out of me.
When nothing else happened, I lay back on the bed. That could have been anything, I decided. Too much pot roast. A muscle spasm. I’d almost convinced myself I’d imagined it when another fluttering in a different part of my stomach left me wide-eyed. I nearly stopped breathing, then told myself that wouldn’t be healthy for any of us.
I used no magic but instead expanded my senses so that I could feel the air and water around me. I could hear the hum of insects outside and smell the leaves of the trees outside my window. The world fell into a comfortable harmony as I clasped my hands and rested them carefully on my stomach again. Another flutter answered me, and I realized that maybe, no matter how radically things had changed, I wasn’t alone after all.
Chapter 8
I’d thought my biggest obstacle in exile would simply be adjusting to a new area and new people. I was wrong. As it turned out, boredom soon became my greatest enemy in the following weeks.
The Reeds continued to be open and loving in their acceptance of me. For all intents and purposes, I was a member of the family. Evan made good on his promise to take me to the space center and went out of his way to show me all sorts of other interesting sights in the area. Still, he couldn’t entertain me nonstop. Even though he was on summer break, he still had lots of home projects of his own to work on during the day, as well as a number of volunteer jobs. Likewise, Charles and Candace had their own commitments to preoccupy them. When evening came, they were quick to gather us all together, but the long daylight hours were left to my own devices.
Surprisingly, jealousy soon became an issue for me as well. Candace might maintain her breezy down-home style and tendency to over-mother while at home, but it was obvious that when it came to her shamanic work, she was all business. Her work sometimes took her quite a few hours outside of Huntsville, and I learned that this region was particularly active for ghosts. Old spirits had a hard time leaving familiar haunts. For whatever reason, gentry and other Otherworldly creatures weren’t such an issue, so she rarely used her magic to touch the Otherworld. Her work was mostly restricted to banishing, which made her more of a Ghost Buster than a shaman.
She frequently came home with cuts and bruises from particularly troublesome spirits, and that was what drove me crazy the most. She never complained and took it in stride as part of the job, and Charles would patiently patch her up each time. She was always able to take down anything that came her way, but each time she returned home injured, I just kept thinking that if I’d been with her, we probably could’ve dispatched those ghosts without a scratch. It took every ounce of my willpower to stay silent and let her do her job the way she always had.
I’d wondered initially if Evan knew what his aunt did for a living. Sometimes the shamanic trade was kept undercover. I quickly learned that not only did Evan know about her job, he also occasionally helped. His skills were pretty minor, but she believed it was good to have a backup. Her profession was well known to a lot of the community as well, who took ghosts and the supernatural as an accepted part of life. The area was rich in history, and a lot of the residents—particularly those in remote regions—had at least one ghost story to share.
Candace found me one afternoon, on a day she’d finished up early. I was reading on the porch, trying with mixed luck to get into a book I’d recently checked out. I hadn’t actually used a library in years, but with all my free time, now had seemed like a good time to try to get back into the habit. They helped break up the time when I wasn’t working on jigsaw puzzles, which were another old and neglected hobby.
“I was wondering if you could help me out with something,” she said, wiping sweat off her brow. The drought hadn’t lifted, which also drove me crazy. Charles worked diligently to keep his garden watered and alive, and I had to rein myself in from using magic to help him out. I would’ve gladly assisted with the manual labor instead, but he wouldn’t allow that in my “state.”
At her words, a brief surge of hope flared within me. Maybe she wanted me to come help her with a case! Then, as quickly as the thought had come, I promptly dismissed it. I was fairly certain Roland had made it emphatically clear that I was not to assist under any circumstances, and Candace was protective enough to uncompromisingly adhere to that.
“What do you need?” I asked. I racked my brain for any household tasks that needed tending but could think of none that were low-key enough for me to be allowed to do.
“Business is picking up,” she said. “And I’m getting lots of calls and e-mails. It’s hard for me to keep up with them. Charles tries, but he doesn’t always know enough to tell what’s a priority and what’s not.”
A secretary. She wanted me to be her secretary. I was so dumbfounded that I could make no response.
Uncomfortable with my silence, she added, “I figured with your experience, you’d be able to sort everything out and schedule it the right way.”
“Of course,” I said at last. “Whatever you need.”
My acceptance came more from a sense of obligation to this woman who’d done so much for me than any real desire for clerical work. Don’t get me wrong—I respected that trade immensely. Back in Tucson, I’d had an administrative assistant named Lara. Her witty personality was enough to make me miss her, but she’d also been amazing at sorting out the day-to-day details of my life and job. Yet, as awesome as I felt she was, my own pride was hurt at being downgraded to phone calls and e-mail. I was one of the most powerful shamans around. I could do things that most of my peers couldn’t ... but this was what I’d been reduced to.