on.
The bright white light made her blink. She’d tried it a few times at Elena’s house while reading the morning paper and it hadn’t seemed this bright. That’s because everything else was so much brighter. At Elena’s the sun had been shining and the windows open, the warm air perfumed by the blooming orange tree next to the deck.
Meaghan could feel the grayness sinking back into her brain. She shivered. She was always cold, deep in her bones, and her brave words about dealing with her fear mocked her now as she sat in her brother’s kitchen, clutching the warm coffee mug in her hands. Spring would never come and John wouldn’t wait much longer and people were still keeping secrets and—
You done yet? Or are we doing the full pity-party checklist?
“Go make toast, little Miss Pathetic,” she said to the empty kitchen. Relatively immune to self-pity, the rational part of her mind might annoy her from time to time, but it had kept her going through the difficult winter. That was the part she needed to nurture, she knew, but sometimes, the dark was so seductive.
Bread sliced and in the toaster, she went back to the light box. She sat for a whole ten seconds before realizing that she hadn’t seen any signs of anybody in the house but her and John. Where were the witches?
The elf. Where is the elf?
Meaghan, now wide awake, her heart pounding, crept to the cabinet near the stove where Russ kept his smaller pans and skillets. She found her favorite saucepan, the one everyone called the wizard beater, and pulled it out as quietly as she could.
Taking a deep breath, Meaghan eased open the cellar door and stared down into the darkness. The light should be on. She listened. She heard a gasp and then silence. Too much silence. As she stood on the top stair, her finger on the switch, pondering what to do, she heard a loud bang and a whoosh.
Meaghan yelped and hit the light switch.
The furnace, idiot. That was the furnace.
Realizing that the element of surprise was long gone, she yelled down the stairs, “Who’s down there? I got a saucepan and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Wow. Some threat. I’m sure the elf is terrified now.
“Holy shit, Meg, what the hell?”
“ Owen? What are you doing here?”
“Guard duty.”
“Where’s Natalie?”
“Um . . . I’m down here, too,” Natalie said, sounding out of breath. “What’s wrong?”
You mean besides you being in the dark in my basement with a leprechaun?
“Just wondering where everybody was,” Meaghan said, her face growing pink, realizing she’d interrupted something. “You want me to turn the light off?”
“Yes,” Owen said.
“Everything okay with the elf?” Meaghan called as she flipped off the light switch.
“Gretchen got tired of listening to it whine,” Natalie said. “She zapped it with a sleep spell. She went home after Owen got here.”
No one said anything for what seemed like a very long moment.
“Um, okay,” Meaghan said. “I’m shutting the door now.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Owen called back as Natalie started giggling.
Meaghan shut the door and set the saucepan on the counter. She finished making the toast and warmed up her coffee, trying very hard not to listen. Or think.
“That was something I could have lived my entire life never knowing about,” she mumbled.
Why? Because he’s short?
Meaghan snorted and chomped on a slice of toast. She was arguing with herself again. Hey, he’s taller than John used to be. A lot taller. The giggles took her then and segued into big belly laughs. She grabbed the dishcloth from the stove handle to try to muffle the sound.
It didn’t work.
She was snorting back a laugh when John stepped into the kitchen, wearing only sweatpants, with Meaghan’s eyebrow tweezers in his fist like a tiny dagger.
“What are gonna do with those?” Meaghan asked through her laughter. “Pluck somebody to death?”
He stared at her, confusion on his face. “It was the only steel
The bright white light made her blink. She’d tried it a few times at Elena’s house while reading the morning paper and it hadn’t seemed this bright. That’s because everything else was so much brighter. At Elena’s the sun had been shining and the windows open, the warm air perfumed by the blooming orange tree next to the deck.
Meaghan could feel the grayness sinking back into her brain. She shivered. She was always cold, deep in her bones, and her brave words about dealing with her fear mocked her now as she sat in her brother’s kitchen, clutching the warm coffee mug in her hands. Spring would never come and John wouldn’t wait much longer and people were still keeping secrets and—
You done yet? Or are we doing the full pity-party checklist?
“Go make toast, little Miss Pathetic,” she said to the empty kitchen. Relatively immune to self-pity, the rational part of her mind might annoy her from time to time, but it had kept her going through the difficult winter. That was the part she needed to nurture, she knew, but sometimes, the dark was so seductive.
Bread sliced and in the toaster, she went back to the light box. She sat for a whole ten seconds before realizing that she hadn’t seen any signs of anybody in the house but her and John. Where were the witches?
The elf. Where is the elf?
Meaghan, now wide awake, her heart pounding, crept to the cabinet near the stove where Russ kept his smaller pans and skillets. She found her favorite saucepan, the one everyone called the wizard beater, and pulled it out as quietly as she could.
Taking a deep breath, Meaghan eased open the cellar door and stared down into the darkness. The light should be on. She listened. She heard a gasp and then silence. Too much silence. As she stood on the top stair, her finger on the switch, pondering what to do, she heard a loud bang and a whoosh.
Meaghan yelped and hit the light switch.
The furnace, idiot. That was the furnace.
Realizing that the element of surprise was long gone, she yelled down the stairs, “Who’s down there? I got a saucepan and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Wow. Some threat. I’m sure the elf is terrified now.
“Holy shit, Meg, what the hell?”
“ Owen? What are you doing here?”
“Guard duty.”
“Where’s Natalie?”
“Um . . . I’m down here, too,” Natalie said, sounding out of breath. “What’s wrong?”
You mean besides you being in the dark in my basement with a leprechaun?
“Just wondering where everybody was,” Meaghan said, her face growing pink, realizing she’d interrupted something. “You want me to turn the light off?”
“Yes,” Owen said.
“Everything okay with the elf?” Meaghan called as she flipped off the light switch.
“Gretchen got tired of listening to it whine,” Natalie said. “She zapped it with a sleep spell. She went home after Owen got here.”
No one said anything for what seemed like a very long moment.
“Um, okay,” Meaghan said. “I’m shutting the door now.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Owen called back as Natalie started giggling.
Meaghan shut the door and set the saucepan on the counter. She finished making the toast and warmed up her coffee, trying very hard not to listen. Or think.
“That was something I could have lived my entire life never knowing about,” she mumbled.
Why? Because he’s short?
Meaghan snorted and chomped on a slice of toast. She was arguing with herself again. Hey, he’s taller than John used to be. A lot taller. The giggles took her then and segued into big belly laughs. She grabbed the dishcloth from the stove handle to try to muffle the sound.
It didn’t work.
She was snorting back a laugh when John stepped into the kitchen, wearing only sweatpants, with Meaghan’s eyebrow tweezers in his fist like a tiny dagger.
“What are gonna do with those?” Meaghan asked through her laughter. “Pluck somebody to death?”
He stared at her, confusion on his face. “It was the only steel
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