Page 74 of The HalloQueen

That made me chuckle, “What? You mean my dear old Grandma was out there growing nightshade in her window planters or something? Is that why Mama hides in books? So she could identify if that awful woman was trying to poison her?”

She snorted, “No, but there was a reason you were never allowed behind the outbuilding. She wasn’t dumb enough to keep nightshade in the house and her whole piece of the woods behind her property was filled with nasty plants that kids had no business being around.”

I closed the book, sighing, “This is too much. How am I supposed to reconcile who everyone is with who I thought they were?”

“No one is different, baby. We’re just a little…extra. Someone just seasoned our stew better or something.”

I shook my head, “Or something.” Picking at my cuticles, I continued, “Mom, what if I want to have kids? Are there rules? Is it safe? Am I dooming my kids to be babysitters for the creature from the black lagoon if they’re female? Are we all stuck as Coalition minions? What if they identify as female? Is this a body part thing or a gender identity thing and -”

She smiled, “One, Frasier’s a nice guy, I have never found that he requires much looking after, and two, don’t overthink it. The earth gives us gifts in their own time and way.” She paused, shivering, and turned to the front door, assessing it before the doorbell rang, “Speaking of…we have a visitor. They tripped the wards so they aren’t mortal.”

“At least we know it’s not Monique. Thank you, sunshine for stopping the bitey ones from coming out during the day.” I groaned as she walked toward the door, “Is it normal?”

“As opposed to…” She laughed, heading toward the entrance.

“Something that wants to kill me? Or eat me? Or lie to me? Does it have wings or fur or anything that a month ago would have bothered me?” I hollered and she opened the door, her laughter stopping immediately.

“Bonjour garidenne, my name is Thomas Corbin. I am looking for Annabel, is she at home?”

My heart froze. He found me? He looked for me? Just as I was about to feel the warm fuzzies, my mom slammed the door in his face and yelled, “Am I inviting the rat-with-wings inside, or is this a safe zone?”

I laughed, loving that my Mom had my back. “He’s a raven, not a pigeon. And no, don’t invite him in, have him walk around the house and I’ll talk to him on the patio.” Standing from the wicker loveseat, I closed the book and laid it on the cushion, knowing it didn’t matter what page I was on since I wasn’t understanding any of it anyway. I stepped out into the sun from the back door and sat on one of the chairs surrounding my mothers’ fire pit, which I wasn’t entirely sure was just for marshmallows anymore, and willed my heart to maintain its rhythm while I heard her give him my instructions.

My mother’s backyard had always been peaceful to me. They owned a large historical home and we had a postage stamp of a yard that was lined around the perimeter with an extra tall privacy fence. They’d built a ton of raised garden beds in the yard and created a brick patio and walkway through the plants. While it meant that I didn’t have a “yard” per se during my childhood, I was always flooded with memories of stealing blackberries off the tree in the northwest corner, or painting shallow terra cotta pots and making little toad homes for the garden’s “tenants” whenever I visited home. I hadn’t had a normal upbringing, though that made much more sense now, but it wasn’t bad. No, the shriveling plants surrounding me reminded me of all the afternoons picking seeds from sunflowers and reading poetry in the hammock. It wasn’t typical, but it was good, and it was mine.

Thomas walked around the back of the house, his shoes crunching against the leaves that had just begun to fall onto the brick pavers, tearing me from my memories, and paused when he saw me. He looked oddly at home in my mother’s yard, his dark slim cut jeans and Bowie shirt emphasized his slim frame while also drawing my attention to his delicious shoulders which were flexed from the large raven plant he held in his arms. His dark eyes widened briefly at the red and angry-looking tissue that was healing on the crook of my elbow and immediately flashed to my side, crouching between my knees and placing the plant at his side.

“Fuck, I forgot how fast you are,” I gasped.

His hands were all over my body poking and prodding for physical and emotional damage while muttering under his breath in french, “Mon coeur, are you okay,ma fille? I-”

I felt him knock against my mind and I leaned back, disconnecting the tie between us, “Hi Tommy.”

Fingers flexing, feeling the loss of my touch, he spoke softly, “are you well? Are you whole?”

My anger flared, “Whole? That’s an interesting choice of words. Like someone maybe, I dunno, took a fucking bite out of my arm?”

He at least had the grace to flinch, “I tried to find you, I tried to call…I had no idea she would hurt you until I saw her, and by then you’d already stopped speaking to me and -”

“You walked away and didn’t come back. You didn’t warn me, Tommy. You didn’t ever tell me she could be a danger to me. You were all, ‘they’re gone and there’s nothing between us,’ which is definitely not the vibe I got from her when she attacked me. Jesus, I wouldn’t have chatted with her on a dark beach if I’d thought I could be her dinner.”

“I know. I know.”

“How did you find me?” I asked, indicating for him to sit, but he continued to hover.

“Shannon.”

“Ah. That Benedict Arnold.”

“I was so scared, Bels, I didn’t know where you were, or if you were okay…I thought you’d just dropped off the planet because you were angry with me. You said you hated me! I wanted to give you space-” His speech accelerated, his panic coming off him in waves so potent I didn’t need to be a vampire to feel them.

Part of me enjoyed watching him spiral. Part of me loved that he was so worried about me and uncertain of our future. The other side of the coin wished I’d never walked into that Halloween shop and that my life had remained simple. I sighed and stuck out my hand, “You must be hungry.”

He took my hand immediately but I didn’t feel a pull, “Fuck that, Bels - I was-”

“It isn’t November and I made a promise. I told you you could have me until November as long as you didn’t harvest from anyone else. Have you?”

He dropped his hand and shook his head, “You were gone, Bels. I was getting sick.” He looked at me imploringly, “If I go without for too long, I could turn too. If I needed to be able to find her and contain her I couldn’t go in weak and risk-”

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