“And something on the other side was knocking.”
She stilled. “Crap. That thing in the room with the claws?”
“Yes. The entity.”
“With claws, right?”
“It was slow at first. The knocking. Not the entity.”
“Have we figured out what kind of entity it is?”
“The knock was steady.”
“Can we go back to the entity?”
“Knock… knock… knock.” I added dimension and realism by knocking on the table.
She grabbed my hand. “I get it.”
“Then it got all fast and loud and aggressive.” I knocked faster with my other hand.
She grabbed it too, just as someone, in a moment that was both serendipitous and inspired, knocked on the front door. Annette almost jumped out of her skin. I did too, and if not for the fact that I almost toppled over my chair, no one would have known.
Ice queen.
“What are the odds the entity is at the front door?” she asked.
Five
You know you drink too much coffee if:
You haven’t blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
—Meme
Minerva slept through it all, and I considered checking for a pulse the moment I got mine under control.
Annette pressed a hand to her chest to calm herself, then checked her watch just as Gigi came up from her hidey-hole in the basement. The chief followed her, his massive body dwarfing hers, his uniform starched and badge polished. Since he hadn’t been wearing a uniform when he showed up last night, I could only assume he kept an extra here. Handy and scandalous. I’d have to rib Gigi about it later. Do my due diligence.
“You know you don’t have to sleep in the basement,” I said to her, guilt assaulting me again as I repositioned my chair.
She’d given up her room for me, but it wasn’t like we didn’t have others. I would sleep in the pantry if it meant she would be more comfortable.
“And risk someone seeing me through the windows?” It was true. The bedroom windows, all thirteen of them, were massive floor-to-ceiling things, but that was what blinds were for. “And you know I love it down there,” she added, referring to her room of herbs and dried flowers and all manner of magical concoctions.
She walked over to inspect the damage from the night before, and I couldn’t help but be dazzled by her once again. Her elegance. Her grace. Gigi defined shabby chic. With her bob freshly coiffed, the blonde radiated youth and vitality. She wore a gauze dress, a cream bohemian with gold threads weaved into the tattered handkerchief hem. A gilded vagabond. Of course, the fact that she could make a potato sack look chic did nothing to boost my self-esteem. I clearly got my assets from my father’s side of the family, whoever that might be.
The chief joined her, wrapping a hand around her slender waist as someone knocked again.
“It’s a little early for visitors,” Annette said.
I eyed her with wary suspicion. “I swear, if my office hours start this early, you’re fired.”
Gigi shook her head. “Could you get that, dear? That’ll be Serinda.”
I hesitated a moment longer, hoping Roane would come up, too. We had a lot to talk about. When he didn’t, I started the long journey to the front door, which was neither long nor much of a journey, when Annette shouted, “Would you really fire me?”
Sure enough, Serinda McClain, a member of Gigi’s coven and one of her oldest friends, stood on the other side, her fiery red hair glistening in the early light.
“Defiance,” she said, her breath fogging on the air. She seemed surprised I’d answered, and if I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn she bowed her head to me.
I decided to ignore it. “Hey, Serinda. Gigi’s expecting you.” I held the door wider for her to come in.
“Wonderful. Oh, hello, Houston.”
The chief walked up behind me. “Hey, Serinda.” He offered her a warm smile before looking at me. “I’m off to work, Daffodil. Don’t hesitate to call if anything seems… off.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Chief.”
He hurried past Serinda, tipping an invisible hat as he gestured her inside.
“Gigi’s in the kitchen,” I said.
“Actually, I’m here to see you.”
“Me?” We’d only met a couple of days earlier when Gigi had set up a meet-n-greet with the upper echelon of the coven. “Well, come on back. It’s a bit of a mess, but we have coffee and breakfast sandwiches.”
“From Red’s?”
“Yep.”
“I’m in.”
To Serinda’s credit, she barely blinked an eye at the damage. The oven door hung off its hinges, and that part of the kitchen was still covered in black soot, but the tile was coming along nicely. Clearly, Gigi had told her what happened.
Serinda rushed over to her and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. I was downstairs.”
She set her at arm’s length. “Trapped?”
“No, there’s an escape route I could’ve used had I needed it.”
Appeased, Serinda poured herself a cup of coffee and chose a cheese croissant out of the box of sandwiches. We sat at the small table and worked around Minerva’s prone body to doctor our respective elixirs. Minerva never moved. Ah, to be twenty again. Carefree. Resilient. Flexible. If I slept like that, my head would be stuck in the same position for a week.
Serinda swallowed a bite, took a sip of coffee, then focused her attention on me. “I wanted to thank you, Defiance. I don’t know what you did, but my granddaughter is a different person.”
Her granddaughter, Belinda, was the ultimate skeptic. So much so, she and her brother were seconds away from trying to have Serinda, one of the most lucid people I’d ever met, declared incompetent and put in a home. I’d shown Belinda what we witches were capable of, especially since her grandmother swore Belinda was one herself. Apparently, it worked.
“I don’t even know how to describe it,” Serinda continued. “Something about a crystal elephant?”
I nodded from behind my cup and took a quick sip before answering. “Yes. It was very special to her. Had been missing for decades. I simply told her where to find it.”
Serinda pressed a hand to her chest. Her expression of awe would’ve been more appropriate had I parted the Red Sea. Finding a crystal elephant just didn’t seem worthy of such reverence. “I can’t thank you enough, Sarru. It’s as if she’s enjoying life again. Like all of the doubt and worry and skepticism drained out of her in one fell swoop. And”—she grinned at Gigi—“she’s no longer denying her sensitivity to the spiritual realm. To the energies around us.”
I decided not to ask about the word sarru and why she would call me that, though it sounded oddly familiar. I’d heard it before.
Gigi’s joy shined through her lovely face. “Serinda, I’m so happy for you. You know how much I love that girl.”
“And she you, darling.” She turned to me. “I don’t know what you did, Sar—Defiance, but I am forever grateful.”