Lula lay curled on her side facing away from me. I placed my good hand on her hip and stared at the ceiling, shivering, but too hot to get under the blanket.
I blinked.
The room was darker, drenched in shadow, bars of late afternoon sunlight seeping through the curtains.
The pillow was still under my elbow. I hadn’t moved an inch.
Lula was gone.
Had she left me behind again? Was she making deals with the witches? Hunting the vampire of our nightmares without me?
Fragile.
I rubbed my hand over my face and wished I believed in a god enough to send up a prayer.
“It’s okay,” Abbi said. “She’s still here.”
The sound of running water came to me, and I rolled my head to stare at the closed bathroom door.
“Reading my mind?” I asked Abbi.
“You have loud worries.”
I rolled my head the other way. Abbi sat on the floor next to Lorde, petting the dog’s head.
“You have big ears,” I said.
She grinned. “I do. You should see them sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
Her hand paused in Lorde’s thick black fur. “Really?”
“I bet you’re a very cute bunny.”
She drew herself up. “Rabbit. And yes. I am averycute rabbit. And powerful.”
Hado, still a little black kitten, launched out from between the couch pillows, landing squarely on top of Abbi’s head.
“Help!” Abbi half-yelled, half-laughed. “I’m being attacked. Help!”
Lorde jumped to her feet, barking at them.
Abbi dissolved onto the ground giggling hard enough to snort, while Lorde licked her face. Hado growled at Lorde with the volume of a much larger creature.
I sat and watched them, bemused. Lula walked up beside the bed and paused, as if unsure if she could touch me.
I took her hand but didn’t look away from the wrestling-giggling-barking match.
“Remind me to buy a camera,” I said.
“You have one,” she said.
“I don’t think so.”
“You do. Your phone. Where is it?”
I nodded at the bedside table.
