if he was capable of committing cold-blooded murder. I didn’t want to think so. Didn’t want to think someone I’d found likable and pleasant could have a darker side. But I also knew people were complex and complicated. Nothing was black-and-white. No one was perfect, and heaven knew we could make mistakes. And hide who we truly were, good or bad. Or both—I’d certainly been fooled before.
And well, wasn’t I hiding, too? I was a witch. It had been almost too much to comprehend at first, but as the days slipped by and I used my powers more and more, the truth of who I really was had begun to slowly sink in. Not that I could tell many about it.
Tilda swatted my face again, this time with a bit of claw and a sharp
rrreow
.
Apparently I’d been fooled again, this time by a fluffy white and gray Himalayan in need of an attitude adjustment. “Just when I was beginning to like you,” I said to her.
Tilda stared at me with an air of superiority before hopping off the bed. She pranced to the door, threw a look over her shoulder, and let out a sharp, insistent, thoroughly ticked-off
rrreow
.
It was a familiar meow. She was hungry. (She was always hungry.) Odd that Ve hadn’t fed her already…usually it was the first thing she did every morning.
I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand—I was in no mood to deal with my contacts—and pulled my hair into a loose ponytail. After slipping on a pair of shorts, I zipped up a sweatshirt, brushed my teeth, and finally followed a prissy Tilda along the upstairs hallway to Ve’s room.
The door was open wide, and her bed hadn’t been slept in, which meant she probably never came home last night.
The wood floor creaked under my feet, which roused Missy from Harper’s room across the hall. Whereas Tilda was reserved, Missy was all enthusiasm. She charged through the doorway, her feet nearly flying out from under her, an out-of-control snowball. She lost her footing and slid straight into Tilda and both bumped into the wainscoting. Tilda shrieked and hissed and started swiping, claws fully extended. Missy, perpetually optimistic, licked Tilda’s ear and then yelped as claws made contact with her nose. More hissing ensued before Tilda gave one final swipe and took off.
“You certainly know how to make an entrance.” I rubbed Missy’s curly-topped head and checked for damage. A small scratch ran across her nose, but it wasn’t too bad. I was glad to see some of her former wild and crazy attitude come through. Maybe her shift in personality was just a result of growing up. I supposed that made perfect sense, and I felt no vet appointment was needed after all.
Harper stuck her head out the door. “Everything okay out here?”
I noticed her hair was wrapped in a towel—she’d been up for a while apparently. “Fine. Missy had a little run-in with Tilda. You’re up early.” She rarely woke up this early voluntarily.
“I start my new job this morning, remember?”
In the midst of all that had happened last night, I had forgotten. Harper had a new job at Spellbound Books. I opened my mouth, but before I could get a word out, she said, “And don’t try to talk me out of it.”
I snapped my mouth shut, reconsidered my choice of words, and said, “Is the bookshop even open today? After what happened last night?”
The murder. I didn’t want to say the words aloud. Ididn’t even like thinking them. My mind flashed to the image of Alexandra in the back alley, and my stomach rolled.
And to think that I had considered the Enchanted Village so safe. How wrong I’d been!
Harper leaned against the doorframe, her eyes filled with curiosity. “Did you get a really good look at the body?” She’d always had a morbid interest in forensics. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and maybe there’s a clue on Alexandra’s body as to who really killed her. Because it couldn’t have been Sylar.”
“No, I didn’t get a good look,” I lied, very clearly picturing
And well, wasn’t I hiding, too? I was a witch. It had been almost too much to comprehend at first, but as the days slipped by and I used my powers more and more, the truth of who I really was had begun to slowly sink in. Not that I could tell many about it.
Tilda swatted my face again, this time with a bit of claw and a sharp
rrreow
.
Apparently I’d been fooled again, this time by a fluffy white and gray Himalayan in need of an attitude adjustment. “Just when I was beginning to like you,” I said to her.
Tilda stared at me with an air of superiority before hopping off the bed. She pranced to the door, threw a look over her shoulder, and let out a sharp, insistent, thoroughly ticked-off
rrreow
.
It was a familiar meow. She was hungry. (She was always hungry.) Odd that Ve hadn’t fed her already…usually it was the first thing she did every morning.
I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand—I was in no mood to deal with my contacts—and pulled my hair into a loose ponytail. After slipping on a pair of shorts, I zipped up a sweatshirt, brushed my teeth, and finally followed a prissy Tilda along the upstairs hallway to Ve’s room.
The door was open wide, and her bed hadn’t been slept in, which meant she probably never came home last night.
The wood floor creaked under my feet, which roused Missy from Harper’s room across the hall. Whereas Tilda was reserved, Missy was all enthusiasm. She charged through the doorway, her feet nearly flying out from under her, an out-of-control snowball. She lost her footing and slid straight into Tilda and both bumped into the wainscoting. Tilda shrieked and hissed and started swiping, claws fully extended. Missy, perpetually optimistic, licked Tilda’s ear and then yelped as claws made contact with her nose. More hissing ensued before Tilda gave one final swipe and took off.
“You certainly know how to make an entrance.” I rubbed Missy’s curly-topped head and checked for damage. A small scratch ran across her nose, but it wasn’t too bad. I was glad to see some of her former wild and crazy attitude come through. Maybe her shift in personality was just a result of growing up. I supposed that made perfect sense, and I felt no vet appointment was needed after all.
Harper stuck her head out the door. “Everything okay out here?”
I noticed her hair was wrapped in a towel—she’d been up for a while apparently. “Fine. Missy had a little run-in with Tilda. You’re up early.” She rarely woke up this early voluntarily.
“I start my new job this morning, remember?”
In the midst of all that had happened last night, I had forgotten. Harper had a new job at Spellbound Books. I opened my mouth, but before I could get a word out, she said, “And don’t try to talk me out of it.”
I snapped my mouth shut, reconsidered my choice of words, and said, “Is the bookshop even open today? After what happened last night?”
The murder. I didn’t want to say the words aloud. Ididn’t even like thinking them. My mind flashed to the image of Alexandra in the back alley, and my stomach rolled.
And to think that I had considered the Enchanted Village so safe. How wrong I’d been!
Harper leaned against the doorframe, her eyes filled with curiosity. “Did you get a really good look at the body?” She’d always had a morbid interest in forensics. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and maybe there’s a clue on Alexandra’s body as to who really killed her. Because it couldn’t have been Sylar.”
“No, I didn’t get a good look,” I lied, very clearly picturing
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