“He saw me at Grapes and basically invited himself to sit down with me. But he was the one who convinced me to go to you and tell you what happened, and yeah, I was glad to have him walk with me. After what I saw, I was kind of spooked, you know?”
Her expression gentled. “I do know. I only felt traces of…whatever it was…and that was enough for me.” She came out from behind the counter and moved toward me, pulling me into a quick, fierce hug before she let me go. “I won’t lie and say I’m not worried, but things do seem quiescent for now. Still, Angela, if anything like this happens again, come to me at once. I don’t care if you have to pull me out of bed with Tobias. Understood?”
My cheeks flamed at the thought of having to interrupt my aunt having sex with her boyfriend. “That’s a mental image I didn’t need.”
She shot me a warning look.
“Okay, okay. I know. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. Too many things coming at once, I suppose.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t offer any more remonstrances, but only nodded. “Well, I think we’ll both feel better after a good night’s sleep. The house is cleansed, and safe. There isn’t anything here that need worry you.”
I still wasn’t completely confident on that point. Voicing my misgivings probably wouldn’t be all that productive, though, so I allowed myself to nod and then said, “You’re right. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
Never mind that it was barely nine-thirty on a Saturday night. Right then I only wanted to sleep. I didn’t even want to dream of him. My thoughts were roiling enough as it was.
* * *
My Great-Aunt Ruby summoned me the next morning.
I say “summoned” because that’s what it felt like — a summons to the royal presence. I was sure she’d heard about all the events of the day before…and maybe my run-in with Perry at Main Stage on Friday night, too. Part of a prima’s responsibilities included keeping tabs on her clan members, especially the girl who happened to be the prima-in-waiting.
Since I’d gone to bed so early the night before, I was up before eight on Sunday, and had toast and instant oatmeal before Aunt Rachel had even come downstairs. She wasn’t much of a morning person, and since the store didn’t open until eleven on Sundays, she tended to sleep in then even more than usual.
Nothing so prosaic as a text or email or even a phone call to let me know Great-Aunt Ruby wanted to see me. No, I heard her voice in my head, saying, Angela, I want to see you. That was her particular power, to be able to reach out to any of us mentally whenever she needed. I thought it was probably a little more useful than being able to talk to ghosts.
At any rate, I didn’t dare ignore that voice. And I also took a little more care than usual with my appearance that morning, ditching my jeans and cowboy boots for one of my few skirts, a long sequined piece from India, and a pair of ballet flats. Nobody in their right mind wore heels in Jerome, unless their plans only included walking a few steps from their car to a restaurant or something.
The air was cool that morning as I let myself out, the sky dappled with clouds. I didn’t see a lot of people out on the streets yet; most shops in town didn’t open until eleven or twelve on Sunday, and while there were a few places that offered breakfast, the tourists generally came up for lunch or dinner. I paused for a minute or two on Main Street, letting the wind ruffle my hair, breathing in deeply and feeling the air currents as they moved and shifted around me.
No sign of the shadowy presence that had manifested itself the night before. Not even an echo of that unearthly chill, or the laughter I thought I’d heard but must have imagined. It was just a clean, bright Sunday morning, the sun warm but letting me know the seasons were shifting, and winter wasn’t far off.
I shook my head, then began the climb up to Great-Aunt Ruby’s house.
The large Victorian house she occupied had once belonged to one of the mine’s overseers. How exactly it came to be the residence of all the McAllister primas since then was somewhat murky. I don’t want to say that long-ago overseer was exactly coerced into giving it up, but I had gotten the distinct impression that he’d sold it for a song without recalling exactly why he’d been willing to let go of his beloved home for so little.
When I was younger, my great-aunt frightened me a good deal, not simply because she was the prima and therefore in charge of the whole clan, but also because she had seemed so very old to me. My grandfather was the youngest of Randolph McAllister’s four children, and Ruby the eldest, with almost fifteen years separating them, so she was much older than my grandparents would have been…if they were still alive.