Emily showered first. Although shifting between human and Owl was finally flawless, there was still that crawling feeling on her skin every time she shifted, as though she had a second scaly layer on it. She needed a deep scrub to get that feeling off of her. When she was done, she changed into a comfy sweater and sweatpants.
There were all sorts of beauty products in the drawer, too. Everything a girl would need. Emily took her time, savoring the fresh smell of jasmine and the subdued light that gave a relaxing feel. For once, she wasn’t shackled by the feeling of impending doom. For once, there wasn’t a terrible, thundering noise outside. For once, there wasn’t anyone actively trying to kill her.
It had been too long since Emily painted her nails or did her makeup. And even though it was late in the night, and she was going nowhere, she decided to do it anyway. Nothing complex. Just a layer of powder on her face, lip gloss, and a little eye shadow. She flashed a toothy grin at herself in the mirror.
The sweater she wore said UMass. It was one of the universities Emily hoped to get admitted to. She wondered if perhaps Aunt Anastacia went there.
It was sort of a weird question for Emily, though. So far, she had seen her aunty first as a lunatic, then as a witch. This powerful rove who knew a lot about the supernatural. What would the woman need with mundane knowledge? Yet, it was a cogent question.
What was Aunt’s childhood like? What college did she attend, if she even attended college? Why didn’t she have a partner or a husband or something? Not that it was Emily’s business in the first place.
Emily didn’t even know how old her aunt was. She knew Aunt and Mom were in the same age bracket. Maybe a couple years between them, or less. And Mom was in her early forties when she got killed. That put Aunt Anastacia in her early to mid forties maybe. Certainly still young.
So why did she behave like she’d been alive for a hundred years? Emily thought to herself.
A soft knock echoed on the door.
“Who is it?” Emily inquired.
“It’s me,” Michael replied.
Emily’s heart climbed her chest. She checked to make sure nothing embarrassing was in sight. Then she went to the door and opened it. Only a bit, at first.
Michael stood there with a tray of food in his hands. A simple sandwich and a mug of milk.
She opened the door wider and took the tray. She looked at him. Michael had freshened up as well. And he smelled nice.
“Thanks,” Emily said. She was about to shut the door, when Michael stuttered. She paused. Michael was blushing and avoiding her eyes.
“Is there something else?” Emily prodded.
Michael shook his head. “Aunt Anastacia isn’t forthcoming with the plans,” he said. “She says we’ll have a roundtable meeting in the morning. By nine.”
Emily nodded. She thought as much. It was one of the hardest things to do: nothing. It was hard to sit idly by when every cell in your blood wanted action. Maybe that was why Michael appeared so anxious. For the past several hours, they had been on the run, in danger of being accosted at any point by three magicians who wanted nothing good from them.
Now, they were safe. At least for a bit. They could shut their eyes and expect to wake up in seven to ten hours in one piece. And what did they want to do? Yeah, they wanted to go out again. Emily suspected this was how one developed PTSD.
“I don’t know if I can sleep,” Michael admitted. “Every second we waste here is one second that Rina and Joanna come closer to being killed.”
Emily nodded sympathetically. She felt the same way.
“I don’t know what I'd do if I can’t save them,” Michael confessed. “I know you all came to save me. I got out, and they got caught. I have to rescue them. I have to.”
Emily could see the makings of a rebellious spirit. If Michael knew how to get into Aunt Anastacia’s safe house, surely he knew how to get out. If he knew how to get out, what was to stop him from going after Rina and Joanna himself?
Emily realized they had to be smart now. If she was right, the Alfred seniors were still knocked out. They needed another twenty-four hours or so before they woke from their sleep. That means they had as much time to attack the castle while it was at half strength.
They didn’t need a half-baked or impulsive plan. They needed to be strategic. They needed all hands on deck. They were only going to get one shot at this. In other words, Michael had to stay put. Emily had to ensure it.
“Look, no one wants them safe more than I do,” Emily started. “But even I understand Aunt Anastacia’s worry.”
“So we cower here in fear?”
“No,” Emily replied with a firm tone. “We’re not cowering in fear. We’re replenishing. We’ve been on the road all day. We’re exhausted. If we rush into the Alfreds’ castle now, they’re going to pick us off like unsuspecting sheep for slaughter.”
“I’d like to see them try,” Michael cut in.
“You’re feeling like that now,” Emily replied, “because there’s a lot of adrenaline coursing through your body. You’re not going to feel like that when you stand facing Alice—or Marion, for that matter.”
Michael opened his mouth to say something, and then he frowned and shut it again. Michael knew there was nothing he could do now to defeat the Alfreds on equal footing for the time being. Even Aunt Anastacia, as old and advanced as she was, would have a hard time defeating the Alfred kids in the current state of things.
“So what do we do?” The tone of desperation in Michael’s voice appealed to Emily’s conscience. She knew that all this was for her friends. She, too, was worried for
