Casting Spells Read Online Free PDF Page B

“The woods are filled with them.”
    “Or a lovesick fisher,” he said, forcing a smile. “I spotted tracks last week in the woods.”
    “Lilith said they were repopulating. I’ll bet that’s exactly what you heard.”
    He made an upbeat comment about conservation and forestry. I answered with an even more upbeat comment about wildlife and the environment. We both ignored the fact that it wasn’t mating season. We were practically back to our pre-banshee comfort level until we locked eyes and a terrible certainty moved between us.
    Change was coming. You could smell it in the air.
    He walked me to my cottage at the edge of the woods, where we exchanged awkward good-byes. I wanted to throw my arms around my best friend and hug away the worry in his eyes, but when your best friend was also in love with you, a woman had to think twice. I squeezed his hand instead.
    “It’s nothing,” I said even though we both knew I was lying. “This time tomorrow we’ll laugh about it.”
    But once I closed the door behind me, tomorrow seemed a very long time away. This was one of those nights when the loneliness cut through me like a well-sharpened knife.
    I was glad when a loud meow rang out and my feline family materialized from their various hiding places. After an initial burst of excitement, they assumed their usual looks of disdain and I hurried to do their bidding like a good human.
    I spent the next forty-five minutes cuddling, cleaning litter boxes, and opening cans of Fancy Feast. Once I had Lucy, Pyewacket, Dinah, and Blot settled down, I popped a Lean Cuisine into the microwave, pumped myself a glass of red from the box on the counter, then plopped down onto the sofa to get pleasantly buzzed while I waited for my meat loaf with whipped potatoes to be ready.
    I guess I must have dozed off somewhere between my second glass of wine and the bag of Chips Ahoy I’d sworn I wouldn’t open until Saturday night because the next thing I knew I was startled awake by one of Renate’s beautiful daughters.
    Calliope was balanced on the rim of my wineglass, all teeny-tiny tattoos, piercings, and hot pink iPod permanently set on Stun.
    “Wake up !” she said. “You have to get to the Stallworths’ place right now or else.”
    “Calli?” I stifled a yawn. “What’s going on?”
    She shrugged and faerie glitter left over from Transition sent the cats running for cover. (That’s the thing about the Fae: no matter how hard they try, they can’t always cover their tracks.) “My mom says you’d better get there fast.”
    She vanished in another shower of glitter I would be vacuuming up for days.
    The temperature had dropped considerably in the last few hours. A wicked northerly wind slashed through my heavy down-filled coat and penetrated three layers of wool and quiviut sweaters. As much as I hated the thought of driving the icy half mile between my cottage and Town Hall, I hated the thought of walking it even more.
    It took forever to warm up my ancient Buick, long enough that I started wondering if maybe I needed Janice to devise a protective charm to keep the engine running one more year. Finally I shifted into drive and white-knuckled my way down Osborne Avenue. I slid to a shaky stop at the corner of Carrier and Osborne and saw the lights blazing at the Stallworth Funeral Home.
    Beads of sweat broke out along the back of my neck and I yanked off my scarf and tossed it onto the seat next to me. I told myself that the Stallworths were nocturnal by nature and 2 A.M. was midday to them, but the knot of cars in their driveway wasn’t a good sign. I mean, we weren’t all vampire in Sugar Maple.
    Gunnar’s banshee talk swooped in on me like a swarm of bees. Was it possible he had been right and we had lost one of our own? I refused to wrap my mind around the concept. The death of my father was the last true death I could remember. Sorcha didn’t die in the traditional sense; she literally passed from this dimension of