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“Marigold,” Clark said without opening his eyes, water sliding over his face like he was in the shower. That brought back memories.

I shut down that line of thought hard.

I cleared my throat. “Sage is depressed. Any ideas how to shake her out of it? Also, what’s with the fence? That’s got to be at least fifty thousand dollars.”

“I have a large fund of spending money. I hope you don’t mind. It’s for the safety of your children. There used to be a fence thirty years ago before they ripped it out.”

“They as in your parents?”

“Yes. Do you want to meet them?”

“No, thank you. That would be awkward since we’re getting a divorce.”

“We’re not getting a divorce.”

“You can say that, but the papers are going through.”

“I didn’t marry you with papers, but blood and will.”

I snorted. “We went to the courthouse.”

“When you were pregnant with my child.”

“Our child. And I wouldn’t ever have gotten pregnant if you didn’t have a fake face. Anyway, you don’t have any idea how to help Sage get over this thing with Donny?”

“If you could help, it wouldn’t be serious enough to need intervention.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just a font of wisdom. I thought since you were older, you’d have something useful to say.”

“I’ve only had one teenager, Sage. My sister…” His eyes narrowed and then his face went back to being a blank mask.

“What about your sister?”

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“What, she wouldn’t kill people and so the family kicked her out?”

“She killed so many people,” he murmured. “She liked it too much. She was actually part of the group thirty years ago that…” He frowned at me. “When she was a teenager, she was trained to kill. Sage’s age, maybe a bit younger. My brother and I were later, partly because of her…”

I didn’t have anything to say after that. What do you say when your husband with face-tattoos tells you his sister is a psycho killer, more of a psycho killer than you are?

“That’s a pity. I guess I’ll give Sage some space. Maybe I’ll take her shopping after school.”

“I love that you still think you’re normal. What would actually make you feel better about everything? Shoe shopping or raising the dead?”

I sighed. I seemed to do that a lot these days. “I actually have been thinking that I need a new wardrobe. I don’t think the pantsuits and loafers are really me anymore, but the emo goth thing that came with the house certainly isn’t. Maybe I’ll go sporty, all primary pastels and a nice stylish sneaker. Maybe put some streaks of red or blue in my hair.”

“That sounds fun.”

I searched the sorcerer’s face, emotionless, passive, not at all like he thought fun existed. “Yeah, and we can put some pink highlights in yours.”

“If you think it’d go with my face-tattoos.”

“If only they were pink.”

“They can be. I can be almost any color, glowing eyes and tattoos.”

I snickered. “I had no idea you had so many talents.”