“Earlier you said your mom would get headaches when you were growing up,” Gordon reminded her.
Cordelia mentally kicked herself. “Right.”
“It’s genetic then?” he asked.
“I guess,” she said, daring a glance into his gold-brown eyes. “Listen, you can’t tell my sister about this. Eustace has been through a lot recently. She doesn’t need one more thing to worry about.”
He looked dubious. “I already called to tell her we were on our way.”
Cordelia moaned as her sister came running down the porch steps, opening the door. “I’m fine, Eustace,” she said, stepping out. “Just a case of low blood sugar.”
“Like hell you’re fine,” Eustace argued, insisting on helping Cordelia up the stairs and into the house. She deposited her on a sofa in the library.
Gordon brought her a glass of cold water after unloading the groceries in the kitchen, where Eustace was now quickly putting them away. Cordelia took it and eyed him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He shrugged and gave her a small smile, maybe the firstrealsmile he’d let her see. “Turns out I’m a pretty nice guy,” he said. “For someone withhell fireprinted across his knuckles.”
She rolled her eyes.
She had to wonder why he was even there, in the place where his mother had died horribly, with the family everyone in town thought were murdering cannibal recluses. He’d defended her today to Gladys. And he’d tried to help her calm down in the grocery store. She believed him when he said he was a nice guy, despite the tattoos and the black clothes and the metal-band past. But she had the distinct sense that underneath all of that, he had a reason for being there. Quite without knowing it, she and her sister had come to Bone Hill looking for answers. Maybe Gordon had too.
Then again, given her track record, she could be completely wrong.
Eustace stomped back into the room, face creased with worry.She pressed a cold compress to Cordelia’s head, and not gently. “I can’t decide if I’m more angry or more concerned.”
“It shows,” Cordelia grumbled.
“Gordon told me about the headache. How long?” she asked, foot tapping.
“Don’t,” Cordelia told her. “It’s not like Mom.”
Her face fell. “That long then?”
Gordon rose to his feet as if to leave.
“You never picked up the phone, not even once, to tell me?” Eustace shot at her.
Cordelia furrowed her brow. “Okay,pot.Nice to meet you. I’mkettle.”
The doorbell rang, saving Cordelia from having to say more.
“That’s Dr. Mabee.” Gordon looked grateful for the excuse to leave. “I’ll let him in.”
Cordelia stared up at her sister as he left the room. “There’s something you should know.”
Eustace sat down. “I’m listening.”
“We aren’t exactly beloved by the locals.” She gave her sister a pointed look. “Our family has a history of being generally eccentric and standoffish. And that has not gone unnoticed over the—oh, I don’t know—centuries? So, yeah. People here pretty much hate us.”
Eustace dug her fingers into her wild curls, pushing them back from her face. “So, we’re like the Boo Radleys of Bellwick?”
“I mean…” Cordelia searched for the right way to put it. “Werewolveshas been tossed around.Vampires. Satan’s concubines.That kind of thing.”
Eustace dropped her shoulders. “And I thoughtwitcheswas bad.”
“Yes, well, that’s been mentioned too,” Cordelia told her. “I just thought you should know before this doctor comes in. In case…”
“In case he treats you with holy water and three Hail Marys?” she supplied.
