Spells Trouble (Sisters of Salem #1) - P. C. Cast Page 0,31

am your auntie.”

The front door echoed with vigorous knocking. “We have no choice,” Mercy told Hunter, and she hurried from the kitchen. Her body felt strange—numb and ultrasensitive at the same time. If she didn’t have to answer the door—to talk to people—she would just sit. And stare. And wish with everything inside her that she could go back twenty-four hours and wrap her arms around her mom and never let her go.

She opened the door to see her quarterback boyfriend, hair wet and disheveled, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, fist raised to knock again.

“Oh, babe! Come here.” Kirk moved into the house and lifted her up in a hug. Mercy pressed her face to his chest and closed her eyes, hoping the scent and feel of him would erase the rest of the world, if only for a few beats of her broken heart. Then his arms unwrapped from around her and he stepped forward—toward Hunter, who was just coming into the living room. “Hunter, I don’t know what else to say except I am so sorry.” He scooped Mercy’s twin into a gentle hug and patted her back. “Really. I’m here for you—for both of you. Anything. Anything at all I can do I will.”

“Boy, you embrace the wrong twin.”

Kirk released Hunter and took a step back as Xena, carrying a steaming mug of tea and a truffle, slunk past him and into the living room, where she resumed her perch on the arm of the couch.

“I—I know,” he stammered. “I was just telling Hunter sorry, too. Who are you?”

Mercy took Kirk’s arm and led him to the far end of the couch—away from Xena—as she said, “This is our Aunt Xena—from the East Coast.” She sat beside him and Kirk put his arm around her, pulling her comfortingly close to him.

Hunter nodded and sat in one of the several chairs adjacent to the couch in their big, comfortable living room where everything faced an enormous fireplace framed by a mantel ornately carved with triple moons. “We called Aunt Xena last night and she caught the red-eye to Chicago. She just got here.”

Kirk’s shoulders sagged. “So, you’re moving to the East Coast?” There was no way Hunter, or anyone, could miss the genuine distress on his face.

“No!” the three women said together.

There were two quick knocks on the door and then it burst open as Emily and Jax spilled into the room.

“Ohmygod! I just—I just can’t. I can’t!” Emily flew across the room and collapsed on the couch on the other side of Mercy as she took her best friend’s hand. Her eyes were puffy and red and mascara was smeared down her tearstained cheeks. “What can I do? How can I help?”

Mercy clung to her hand. “You being here helps.”

Jax went to Hunter and pulled her up out of the chair. Wordlessly, he took her place and then cradled her on his lap so that her head rested on his shoulder, childlike. His voice was gravelly and his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

Mercy forced herself to sit up straight. She wiped her face on her shoulder. Kirk held one of her hands and Emily the other. She tried to pull strength from them—tried to form the right words. What was it she and Hunter had decided to tell everyone? Her anger at the sheriff’s callousness and then the shock about Xena turning into a person had moved her forward earlier and allowed her to think normally, but it had drained away the second Kirk pulled her into his arms. Now her brain felt wrong—like she was trying to think through mud.

“There was a fire. Dear Abigail got the girls to safety, but it caught her and killed her.”

Everyone turned to face Xena.

“Hello,” said the human cat. “Emily and Jax, it is lovely to formally meet you.” She looked down her nose briefly at Kirk. “I am the twins’ Aunt Xena.”

Kirk peered up at Xena, his brow furrowed. “You mean like their cat?”

“Yes. Exactly like their lovely feline.”

“Abigail has a sister?” asked Jax.

Hunter slid off his lap and moved to the thick arm of the chair, keeping his hand in hers. “No, Xena is Mom’s cousin. We’ve mentioned her before.”

“Sorry, I didn’t remember.” Jax nodded at Xena. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms.…”

“Call me Auntie or simply Xena.”

“Oh, wait. Are you who Abigail used to visit on her trips back to Salem?” Emily asked.

“Yes,” the three women lied together.

“I will

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