Page 3 of Coven of Corpses

The small house didn’t have a good gathering place other than the table that took up most of the dining room, so nobody lingered too long after dessert. Amelia and Otis had offered up their guest room to Cody’s parents. Cody’s youngest brother Brady and his wife, Hilari, and their four-year-old daughter, Erin, were staying with their brother Dave and Ollie at their apartment.

Roman and his family had, of course, opted to stay in a cozy Airbnb somewhere in town, with no offer of having room for anyone else. Such a dick.

Roman left first, as expected. He gathered his family and, with a perfunctory one-armed bro-hug for Cody and a shoulder squeeze for Demmy, he ushered them all out the door. Dave and Ollie were next with Brady and his family following. Amelia and Otis sat chatting with Cody’s parents at the dining room table, getting caught up on local gossip, and Demmy was helping Grant and Mac find something for their kids to watch on TV. Cody took the opportunity to slip out the side door, carrying a large bowl of raw vegetable remnants.

A sharp chill in the air felt good after the stuffiness of too many hours of the oven and burners running, and definitely too many bodies jammed inside the house. A lopsided moon peeked through the bare branches of the trees. It was waning, a few days past full, which was something they tracked now, just in case, and another fucking reason for his new-found anxiety. The moonlight threw long shadows across the backyard. Everything familiar seemed unusual, a hint of a threat. Though the air was chilly, he could smell the dampness of the earth and the soon-to-be-awakening spring flowers. They might get another snowfall, most likely an ice storm just before Easter, but the warmer rains would fall soon after, and the plants would return in earnest.

He smiled at the quiet rustling followed by an excited chirp. Even though he couldn’t see Trevor, Cody could perfectly imagine the raccoon sitting back on his hind legs, waving his front paws.

“Yeah, I hear you. I’ve got some food for you, you tubby freeloader.”

Cody walked onto the grass at the side of the detached single car garage and set the bowl on the plank of wood Demmy referred to as Trevor’s patio. Trevor lumbered over, a big, round furry shadow in the moonlight, and reached into the bowl. As Trevor ate, Cody crossed his arms against the chill and once again considered the moon.

He tried to stand still and just be at peace, but his entire body seemed to be thrumming with the need for motion. He clenched his toes inside his wool socks which were stuck inside his slides. He tightened and relaxed his fingers on each bicep and followed the same pattern with his arms. In the past, after having a big meal at the house, he would be putting together a plate and taking it over to Felicia. He’d be checking in on her, talking with her, listening to her go on about whatever dimly lit mental hallway her brain had led her down that day, trying to gently lead her back to reality. But now…

Loss blossomed in his chest. He felt the cut of each sharp leaf, the brutal stab of its blood-red bloom as it surrounded his heart.

Before the tears could come, he heard the squeak of the storm door. It was either Demmy or Grant, and he really hoped it was Demmy.

“Hey, Codes.”

All hope was lost. He sent a silent ‘fuck you’ up to the moon, then said without looking around, “Don’t call me that.”

“Dems said you might be out here⁠—”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Feeding Trevs.”

Cody put his face in his hands and blew out a breath. No matter how justified, killing family members is still homicide.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“I appreciate that. I’m good. Just getting some air. Big meal and all that, you know?”

“Yeah, great big meal.” Grant stood beside him. “Which you barely ate.”

“I had a lot of appetizers.”

“Mom and Dad brought those, and they were running late.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and tipped his head back to look at the clear sky full of stars. “You were Grams’s favorite, you know. Always had been, even when we were smalls.”

Cody looked up at the stars. His throat ached with the effort of holding back the full strength of his grief. He was afraid if he let it out, he might never get out from under it. He heard the flick of a lighter, and a gentle golden, glow lit the space between them. When he looked around, Cody found Grant pulling a deep lungful of smoke from a tightly rolled joint.

“I see why you and Mac drove here.” The distraction helped push the grief down once again.

“Had to have the good stuff with me,” Grant said as he held the smoke in his lungs, his voice strained. He released it in a sweet-smelling cloud that dissipated in the moonlight, then he offered the joint to Cody. “Want a hit? One of my specialties.”

Cody lifted a hand and shook his head. “I’ve sampled your specialty weed before. I’m on call with work and need to be lucid.”

“Oh, right. You got that job with that guy you and Dems used to work with.”

“Jugs, right.”

“How’s that going?”

“Living the dream.” Cody looked at the moon again.

“Cool, cool.” Grant took another hit. “You probably feel pretty lost now that Grams is gone and your company shut down. You never really told us all what happened with your last job. The one working with the city.”