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“Then why are you staying outside?”

“Because your mother is angry at me for lying.”

“Ooh.” Silence for a beat then Jerome said, “So, do you want to see my bugs?”

“You did not bring bugs!” Sage wailed. “Mom! Why did you have more kids?”

Nine months before I had the twins, Clark came home from a trip smelling like wind and lightning. I was asleep when he climbed into my bed and pulled me into his arms. It was dark, and he felt different, but then he called me Marigold, and asked if he could love me, and of course the answer was yes. In the morning, my perfect husband was beside me, where he was supposed to be, but in the darkness, it had felt like he was much larger than usual. It was him, but it was also a powerful sorcerer. Why would he want a suburban life when he could have power and countless women and not have to lie about who he was? He had to be legitimately insane.

I glanced over at him again, at that soft smile, the way he was looking at me like he understood and would do everything in his power to make my life easier.

I forced myself to refocus on the road. He really was Clark, the man I loved. The man it felt like I would always love.

Curses.

fifteen

. . .

Somehow, I survived bowling with Clark with his warm eyes and soft smile, every look a blatant lie. What did his face really look like when he looked at me? Who was this psychopath I’d married? Other than not a great bowler.

Sunday morning, he was in the kitchen making waffles when I came down. Seriously? The house let him in? At least he was wearing his real face with tattoos so I didn’t feel quite so torn apart when I looked at him.

“The boys asked me to make them breakfast. Would you like some?” he asked, his face an impenetrable mask of cool reserve. Also face-tattoos.

I shook my head no to the fluffy yet crisp carbs that were my absolute favorite and made an egg to go with my decaf green tea. If the house lost this package, then I’d just buy another one. And another one. And another. Forever. So far it had let me keep my box on the counter without vanishing it.

“I’ll have some of that,” Sage said, glowering at the world around her while I poured her some hot water in the dandelion tea mug and dipped the tea bag in it. After that, I went to the library and pulled down the book on Necromancy. If I was going to raise the dead, I should do it with intention. No, actually the point was to know what I was doing instinctively so I could avoid raising the dead.

Thunder crashed, and I supposed Clark was back to his front lawn vigil. That was another reason I was reading about necromancy. So I could defend myself and end his occupation of my life and lawn.

I heard the sound of a truck and went to the window. Three trucks were on the road, their name something fence and gates. Fence and gates? A team of eight guys got to work with shovels and picks in the rain, clearing out and digging. Wait. The rain didn’t quite reach where they were working on the edge of the property. What was Clark doing? Did I want to know? Defense. Of course that’s what it was.

I sighed heavily and went back to the creepy illustration of a hooded person standing in a circle of dead bodies. So creepy, but the more I read, the more I kind of understood what had happened in the cemetery. Although the amount of power I must have to be able to do that without finishing the spell properly, or magnifying my words with one of the many enhancers witches used, like crystals, or blood, or other elements…it was a lot. I had a lot of raw power that I had no idea what to do with. My hands looked the same, in need of a manicure, but not evil. Except that they could do terrible, horrible things so easily.

In the afternoon, I went to check on the kids. The boys were building forts in their room, and Sage was also in her room, but she was a lump under her blanket.

“Honey?”

“Go away.”

I sighed and walked over to perch on the edge of her bed. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m just tired.”

I rubbed her shoulder through the blanket and then stood up, no idea what else to say. “Let me know if I can help.”

“It’s fine. I just need to be alone so I have the strength to deal with life on Monday.”

“Okay. I’ll bring up some dinner.”

“Sure.”

I made a nice kale salad with spaghetti and turkey meatballs. I had James take a plate out to Clark while I took one up to Sage. I made sure James had rain boots and an umbrella, but he was still damp when he came back in with the clean plate.

“Dad said it was really good,” he said, passing me to carry the plate to the sink in the kitchen. Sage had said, mmph. I hesitated then put on the green rain boots, took the still dripping umbrella, and went out to talk to Clark about Sage. He knew how to deal with teenagers, right? I mean, he was ten years older than me. He had experience.

I headed across the porch and stepped off, walking over the squelching ground while I noticed the men still working on the iron fence around the property.