Page 91 of At Her Will

But she knew now it was better that they hadn’t. No false hope. And she routinely reminded herself that, before those events, she hadn’t lacked for love or care. Cyn had understandable, horrific reasons for her cynicism toward religion. Vera had been raised in a loving family, with plenty of opportunities. She couldn’t deny that. Maybe that was why she’d never held a grudge against Christianity when that love had been withdrawn. She knew plenty of Christians who never would have turned their backs on their child for choosing a different path.

Wicca had its own adherents who were intolerant and disrespectful of paths not their own. That was a human trait, not a spiritual one.

The raw pain in her gut was bad enough, but it was the anxiety she really hated. Transferring the money, dealing with the bureaucracy surrounding disability care, were challenges shecould handle. The anxiety wasn’t from that. It was the old feeling of the bottom falling out of her world, the safety net gone.

She wanted to reach out to Rev, but he was at work. She’d do what she’d done before she’d met him. Pull herself together and use the strategies she’d taught herself, to rebuild the walls Palma’s cutting cruelty had just damaged. One of which was thinking about the people who cared for her, who were the foundation of her world.

Which now included Rev. She believed that.

“Vera?”

Bastion was in her doorway. His expression darkened at what he saw in her face, but she shook her head. “Just don’t. Not right now.”

Some people needed to fall apart in the company of others. She wasn’t one of them, and he knew it, so he put the bottle of Rolaids on her desk. “I’m sorry. I assume that was a family member? Snotty voice aside, she sounded like you.”

“Yes.” Emotion made her voice throaty. “I have a one o’clock, to go over a contract with Earl Livingston.”

“Should I push it to another day, or give you an hour?”

“Two o’clock is fine if that works for him. If not, reschedule to his convenience. Thanks, Bastion.”

“All right.” He gave her a hard but understanding look. “Buzz if you need anything else.”

He closed her door without having to be asked. She sank into her guest chair, and put her face in her hands. Eventually, she would try steady, meditative breaths, good thoughts, prayer. Call Rev up in her mind, in full, wonderful detail. But right now, the tears pushed forward, and she wouldn’t deny them.

A cathartic cry, for what couldn’t be helped or fixed, would give her the strength to get back up. After that, she’d fix her face, and handle the bank transfer.

“Vera.” Cyn came in without waiting for a response to her urgent knock. Seeing Vera’s tear-streaked cheeks, she stopped short. “You’ve already heard?”

“Heard what?”

Bringing her phone over to Vera, she pressed the replay button on a news video.

“…shooting at Roberts Middle School happened at 9:40am. We’re getting reports that at least one teacher has been killed. Several students and a custodial worker have also been shot. Police are holding the names of the victims until the families can be notified. The shooter was a 14-year-old male?—”

Vera bolted from her chair, grabbing her cell phone off her desk. She tried the burner she’d given Rev, but it wasn’t on. Mavis’s went straight to voicemail, no surprise. She didn’t have Beau’s number, something she’d correct later, but there was no use trying the school number. A million parents would be trying to get through.

Skye showed up at the door, using her recording software with flying fingers. “He’s at UMC.”

Later Vera would realize she’d never thought “custodial worker” meant anyone but Rev. Not that Beau was any less brave, but as she’d already learned, Rev had a way of being at the right place at the right time to prevent a tragedy from becoming worse than it already was. If he was close enough to try and protect the students, he would have stepped between the shooter and his targets, no matter that he was unarmed.

Bastion was back, the keys to Cyn’s truck in his hand. “Ros and Abby are still at their meeting in Baton Rouge, but I’ll let them know.”

“Wait until we know his status,” Cyn said. “There’s nothing they can do until we know more. Skye will handle things here.”

Vera had presided over her share of memorial services. When it was someone’s time, it was time. But right now herspiritual acceptance of death as a part of life had zero room inside her. Rage and fear had sharpened into a weapon she fired at the Universe.Don’t youdaretake him from me.

Cyn had pulled Vera’s purse from her drawer and handed it to her. When Vera reached the door, Bastion and Skye stepped aside to let her pass, though Skye gave her a brief embrace and a steady look. Bastion used the cover to snag Cyn’s elbow. “She got spun up from a call from her family a few minutes before you came in,” he said, low. “As insane as this sounds, she might need your help keeping it together.”

“I’ve been known to keep my temper,” Cyn said, her brown eyes like stone. “Except when someone needs their ass kicked. I’ll have her back, either way.”

“I know it.”

Cyn wasn’t much on PDAs, but Bastion squeezed her arm, his worried gaze following Vera. “Keep me posted. Anything she needs.”

“Yeah. And you already know?—”

“If Ros and Abby need to be called, they will be. Go, Cyn. She could run track in those heels right now.”

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