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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~
“What just happened?” True asked, panicked and eyeing the man as he looked down at his body and took in his appearance with surprise.
“I lifted the veil to that place and brought him into the light,” Nana said, satisfied with her handwork. “Although, those clothes won’t do if others see him.”
“Especially tourists,” True said, eyeing the man’s outfit. He wouldn’t look out of place in the movie version of the Three Musketeers she’d watched a few months ago. The tights and little bows on his shoes made her smile, as did the puffy short pants and the lace at his neck. “They dressed very feminine back then, didn’t they?”
The man’s head shot up, and he eyed True with curiosity. He wasn’t wearing a sword like a Musketeer, but his hand did rest on the handle of a dagger in his belt.
“Fashion victim, I think you call them,” Nana said. “But it shows this man had a little wealth behind him, and I don’t think he was on the crew.”
It was no surprise to True that the man looked trapped; he was trapped. Nana had pulled him from the place between the worlds, and he had nowhere to go. He tried to step back into thereceding fog, but every step he took seemed to push the mists away from him.
“I hate to ask,” True said, but she knew she must. “Do we get to keep him?”
Nana turned a wry smile on her granddaughter, and True knew the answer – that poor ghost wasn’t going home.
“Oh, boy,” True said, rolling her eyes.
~
The first thing Evie did when she woke up was look out the window to see if Parker was still there. She wasn’t entirely surprised to see him lying on the bonnet of his truck, his back rested against the windscreen, his arms propped up his head like a makeshift pillow, and he was looking up at her window.
Evie didn’t snatch her head back this time. Yes, she was busted, but she didn’t care. She had every right to look and see who was stalking her, and she didn’t care if he saw her do it.
The man was a menace, and she knew she needed to put him in his place before the day was up – just not yet; she needed to regroup after a pretty sleepless night. During those long hours, she’d needed every ounce of willpower within her not to get up and check to see if Mr Muscles was still lurking.
Evie was about to turn and jump in the shower before she raised Jennifer from sleep when something caught her eye. Traitorous child! There was Jennifer walking towards Parker, and he snapped to attention in much the same way as Evie.
“What in the bloody hell…?” she ground out, watching, waiting and wondering if she should wrench open the window and demand that Jennifer get back in the house.
Evie took a step towards the window and stopped on a grimace. If she called out, Jennifer would likely argue the whys and buts of every word – if she said nothing, Jennifer would get bored and come inside before she was missed. Evie stepped back.
Parker swung his legs over the side of the truck and started to converse with her niece. Evie strained to hear even a word of what they were saying, but with the window closed, it was a useless endeavour.
The man didn’t look like he was about to run screaming from her niece, so she guessed Jennifer didn’t have her stroppy morning act on this morning.
The child had obviously slept like a baby while her aunt had tossed and turned all night, and now she seemed to be making nice with the enemy.
Evie felt irked. It wasn’t a betrayal because Jennifer didn’t know she was doing anything wrong, or maybe she did; she seemed to have a sixth sense about those things and tended to play on it. Still, it felt as if she had nobody on her side.
Evie stepped forward again, unsure what to do next but hopeful it was all about to blow over. How wrong could one witch be?
Parker dropped to his feet in front of the child, and Jennifer reached out her hand for Parker to take. “What?!” Evie hissed with disbelief. “Oh, don’t you dare do what I think you are about to…” She ended those words of hope on a low rumble of a growl.
“Ugh!” Evie tossed her hands up and whirled away from the window. “The little madam!” she grumbled.
Evie had underestimated her niece’s ability to miff her off when she should have given her more credit. That little pint-sized witch was leading the big bad wolf right to the damn door.
“Did she not listen when I read her Red Riding Hood twenty times in a row?” Evie grumbled, catching sight of herself in the small mirror that rested against the top of the drawers and the wall. “Oh hell no!” she said, reaching up for her bird's nest and patting it down.
“Wait!” she said, hearing the front door slam shut and knowing Parker was inside the house. “What am I doing?” she asked her reflection. “Why do I care what I look like?”
That was a reasonable question, but it was also reasonable that every inch of feminine dignity inside of her screamed to make herself look presentable and not like a hedge witch dragged back and forth through the brambles.
Evie didn’t even like opening the door to the postman without full hair and makeup, and that hunky guy downstairs was supposed to be the man she would spend the rest of her life with. “Fine,” she hissed at herself and pointed into the mirror. “You are a horrible excuse for a feminist – where’s my makeup?”
