She was forthcoming with information about my father—an older sister who adored her younger brother. He was the best painter. A wonderful potion maker. His runes were precise—whatever that meant—and he could grill a good piece of meat.
Laurel was much less forthcoming about my mother.
“You never knew her at all?” I pried.
“Your father fell in love when he was at college in Georgia, and we never visited. When they moved back here, she was already pregnant with you. We were ecstatic. I thought Casey was going to have another cousin to play with, but then they moved up to Wisconsin soon after. She wasn’t happy here, and they decided that this wasn’t the life they wanted for you.”
“Why? Because of the magic? The werewolves? Something else?”
My aunt looked to her husband. The unspoken answers between them hung in the air. Finally, she turned back to me. “It was all of it, really. It broke our hearts to have them leave, but I would have given up a little of my soul to keep them and you safe and happy.”
Truth.
I bit my lip as sorrow washed over me. I tried to muster the strength to ask her more, but my cell rang. Alma. She wouldn’t call unless it was important.
“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” I said, then rose and ducked into the other room. “Hey, Alma. Everything okay?”
“Absolutely, honey. Are you all right? Someone put posters all over town that say, Missing: Savannah Caine, last seen on her way to Chicago.”
“What? Is the sheriff an idiot? I’m not missing.” I pushed my palm to my head. Could he be more incompetent?
“He said he didn’t put them up. I asked him to take them down, but he hasn’t yet. I just don’t understand how he knew where you were headed. I didn’t tell anyone you’d left.”
“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” I rubbed my forehead. Just what I needed: a bunch of road signs pointing the werewolves right to me, if they hadn’t already figured out where I’d gone. Since my attackers had been hunting Magica, they’d probably assumed that I’d flee to the biggest magical city around. This didn’t help the situation.
I would have chatted longer, but Alma hung up quickly in case someone was tracking our phone call.
“Everything okay?” Laurel asked when I slipped back to the table.
“Just my godmother checking in on me.”
“She must be worried. You haven’t told her the truth, I assume. Magic Side is a secret, and it is forbidden to tell outsiders who aren’t Magica.”
“She thinks I’m being chased by the men in black. Honestly, I’m probably more worried about her. If those werewolves go after her to get to me…”
My breath stilled, and my heartbeat picked up. I hadn’t really considered the risk Alma might be in.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” my aunt said unconvincingly.
Concern wormed into me, but the problem sparked an idea. An opening.
It was time for a gambit.
I set down my chopsticks and muttered, “I wish there were a way I could check in on her. She doesn’t always answer her phone, and I get worried. Is there any form of magic that, oh, I don’t know, lets you look in on someone?”
I tried to keep my breathing steady.
Laurel raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” said Casey, chewing noodles. “It’s called scrying. Like peeping without permission. It’s totally illegal, probably immoral, and you can get in big trouble.”
“It’s also dangerous,” Laurel noted.
Damn it all, Jaxson.
“Oh,” I said, and dejectedly turned back to my dinner.
“Hey, don’t give up so easily,” Casey leaned forward, whispering, though everyone could still hear him. “Our family happens to be really good at scrying. Kind of one of the things we do.”