Lorde had given up on smelling the baseboards and flopped down on my feet under the table.
“We came here because we need some information,” I said.
“What? Not for my delightful company? I am shocked.”
“I get it,” I mumbled.
“You are the first person who’s ever rolled in and had a question they wanted answered.”
“Regretting the whole thing now,” I said.
“I might just have to get my diary and put little hearts around the date.”
“Let the pies burn, Lu,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
Ricky chortled and held out her hand. “No. Not the pies! I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Nope, it’s decided. We’re leaving.” I made to stand, and Ricky’s laugh turned deep and hissy.
“All right, all right.” She patted the air, telling me to sit. “Stay. What information do you need?”
“The Hush,” I began.
Ricky held her finger up, her eyes wide. The tattoos at her wrist flared, glowed, and seemed to trigger rolling fire up her arm.
“Wait.”
Lu stopped searching cupboards. She regarded us both. “I can turn the oven off.”
“No.” Ricky stood. “It’s fine. Just give me a minute.” She walked the edges of the room, stopping at intervals to press her fingers into the walls, the door frames.
Symbols flared to life, fueled by the magic she carried under her skin, the old magic of this place, of all the things in it, filling her blood.
Once she had finished the circle, I felt her magic spreading through the house like a circulatory system. Runes and spells written on the old bones of the structure, the weird and weave, stretched like muscles holding safe all within it.
Everything outside this room felt more distant. Even the song on the radio was quieter.
“All right,” she said, wiping her hands on her thighs, dragging sparks across the denim. “Tell me what you know about the Hush.”
“They attacked Lu. And they were in my dreams. Maybe more than dreams.”
Ricky glanced at Lula, and after an extended moment, Lu touched the watch hanging under her shirt. “I don’t know if it was the Hush who attacked me, but they wanted this.”
“The watch?” Ricky asked.
Lu slipped her fingers under the chain and pulled. Hanging next to the watch like a bolt of frozen lighting, was the silver crow feather key. The key that would unlock the book the hunter had stolen from us.
The book Cupid wanted.
Ricky muttered something that sounded like a curse.
“Do you know what it is?” I asked.
Her body shifted toward me, but her eyes remained on the feather key, like it was a snake about to strike. “Do you?”
“We know it opens a book. A magic book.”
She nodded, still unable to look away from the key. “Do you have it? Have you seen the book?”
