Through the tether: Zara’s sharp alarm. And anger, though not directed at Ramona, but lingering from outside.
Ramona’s mind raced. She needed something believable to excuse her being in here.
“I was looking for blessed salt,” Ramona said smoothly. “Iris mentioned you keep some in here for quick warding. We had an incident at the apartment. I wanted to be prepared.”
Eleanor’s expression shifted — anger to concern. “What kind of incident?”
“Some kind of spirit. Attached to an artifact Kashvi was studying.” Ramona kept her voice steady, pulling the lie from somewhere deep down. “It’s been handled, but it made me realize we should have basic protective materials on hand.”
“You should have warded that apartment when you moved in,” Eleanor said, moving into the room with that purposeful stride that meant a lecture was coming. “This is exactly what I’ve been saying for years. You don’t plan ahead. You wait until something goes wrong and then scramble to fix it.”
“I know, I just?—”
“Always reactive instead of proactive.” Eleanor was already at the cabinet, pulling out a jar of blessed salt labeledSacred Ground. “Here. Take this. Though frankly, if you’ve already had one incident, you should be doing a full cleansing.”
She pressed the jar into Ramona’s hands with more force than necessary.
“Maybe try thinking ahead occasionally,” Eleanor added, voice sharp. “Instead of waiting until you’re in crisis mode. As always.”
Ramona took the jar, face burning.
“Mrs. Greenbriar,” Zara said, voice carefully even. “I hardly think that is necessary, given our… very recent conversation.” Ramona could feel Zara’s distinct disgust through the tether.
Eleanor turned to Zara, something complicated crossing her face.
“We should go,” Zara continued. “We don’t want to impose upon your day.”
“Of course.” Eleanor stepped back, still clearly tense from whatever they’d argued about.
They moved through the house in silence. At the door, Eleanor paused. “Be careful,” she said. Nothing more.
Ramona tried not to look at her mother like she’d grown another head, though she was pretty sure she was unsuccessful in that.
They walked to the car. Got in. Ramona started the engine, glancing sideways toward Zara, who was staring straight ahead with tension in her jaw.
Neither spoke until they’d turned onto the main road.
“What happened?” Ramona asked. “Are you okay?”
Zara’s hands tightened in her lap. “I’ll explain it later. I was mostly trying to get her to raise her voice so you’d know we were coming upstairs.”
“Is everything okay?”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Zara glanced at her, but her dark eyes were softening already. “Did you get it?”
Ramona pulled the key from her pocket.
“Got it.”
Zara’s smile was fierce. “Good. The others should already be at the convergence point. Let’s go confirm what the fox showed you, then we can plan the actual break-in.”
Ramona laid the key in her lap as she drove, felt the enchantment thrumming. “I just lied to my mother’s face and stole from her,” she said quietly.
“How does that feel?” Zara asked.
Ramona thought about it. About Eleanor’s lecture, about the blessed salt pressed into her hands like proof of inadequacy, about taking something back that had been kept from her.
“Not as bad as I thought,” Ramona said. “Maybe a life of crime was my calling all along, and I just needed a little demonic influence to see my true path.”
