“She used her magic and the portals, and brought Cliff and Abi to her mother, Ni’eve. And I couldn’t stop her because I was stuck in my wolf.” Tanner blew a long breath out of his nose. “Calliope, change of plans. I’m coming to you first. Cliff and Abi are with my teacher. They’re getting extraordinary care, better than anything any of us could provide. And it’s going to take some time before the other druids I contacted for help to get back to me.”
I wanted Cliff and Abi home, in their own beds, in familiar surroundings. I wasn’t so sure today was the day to hash out relationship parameters with Tanner. “I’ve got a class at noon and a houseful of people.”
“I’ll keep myself busy until we can talk,” he said. “Please, give me a—”
Our call was cut off. I was staring at my phone’s blank screen when a shout of “Tanner!” came from the backyard. I swung my legs off the bed, stripped it of tea-stained sheets, and stuffed them into the washing machine. I even managed to whip a fresh bottom sheet onto my mattress. I left the top sheet for later.
That was fast. Proper incentive was everything.
I ducked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee and walked out of the house and into the chaos of men, building materials, and flat-ship boxes from Ikea. Tanner was at the crabapple tree, embracing Wes, with Thatcher waiting his turn and Christoph waving from the back of the truck.
Tanner’s gaze met mine. There was nothing wishy-washy about the message.
I was next in line for a hug. I kept it brief. Both of us, barefoot on the ground, connected our bodies in a familiar way, but I wasn’t ready to tug on the desire flickering between us.
“Breakfast over?” he asked.
“Nothing made or served yet,” said Christoph. “If I can get an extra hand or two, I’ll put on the apron and we’ll see what an old bird can rustle up.”
“Would you like to shower?” Tanner’s usual scent was masked by all the other scents he’d picked up on his travels, and my nose wasn’t happy.
“Yeah. And I need clean clothes.” He plucked at a shirt I’d never seen him wearing, sniffed, grimaced, and pulled it over his head. “And what’s all this?” he asked, waving the shirt toward the house and the truck parked on the grass to the side of the driveway.
“I think Casa Calliope is about to get a bunkhouse.”
“I don’t want to sleep in a bunkhouse,” he said, affecting a shudder. “What’s a guy got to do to sleep in the house?”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Shower, shave, and brush your teeth, for starters.”
“I’m on it.” Tanner shot me a tentative grin and loped to the house and up the porch stairs. I wanted to latch on to this easygoing, playful version of him, but when we’d parted ways at the Pearmains’, I wasn’t at all clear about what would happen the next time we met. I still wasn’t.
“I have class today starting at twelve,” I said to Wes. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”
“Expecting any other visitors?” he asked.
“No, but not expecting visitors doesn’t appear to mean much around here.”
Wes laughed and returned to his clipboard and the pile of lumber. I took a long inhale as I passed the newly stacked two-by-fours. They smelled of possibilities and fresh starts.
Christoph was in the kitchen, aproned and at work.
I slid onto a stool to fill him in on my day. “I let Wes know I have my first video class today, noon until six or so. I’ll be in my bedroom. Come find me if you need anything.”
“What’s the topic?” he asked. My grandfather was getting to know my kitchen, judging by the ease with which he was sorting bowls and ingredients.
“Blood,” I answered. “I think the official title is something like How to Use Blood in Spellwork.”
He raised his bushy eyebrows. “Very much a witch thing. And shamans.”
I leaned my belly into the counter’s edge and planted my elbows. “The night of my party, before you flew down off the roof, Meribah said her blood was in the wards protecting the house, which was one of the reasons they split apart for her so easily.”
“I’m listening,” he said, cracking eggs and separating the whites into a stainless steel bowl and the yolks into a glass container.
“My house talked to me last night.”
He cracked the fourth egg. “Was that the first time?”
I shook my head. “House showed me a couple of images too. The first one communicated very clearly she will not approve any alterations to her underlying structure. A bunkhouse is fine. Lots of guests are fine. But no messing with her bones.”
“Duly noted. What else?”
“Meribah’s blood is also in the root cellar.”
“How did it get there?”
“I have no idea, but I need to know,” I said. He handed the metal bowl and a whisk to me, and I beat the egg whites while I continued. “You can’t imagine all the places my mind has gone, wondering if Meribah knew my mother or my aunt or had anything to do with Mom’s death.”
Bringing egg whites to stiff peaks was a good way channel the frustration that had been building over the many unanswered questions roiling in my head.
“Let me help you,” Christoph said, gently prying the whisk from my grip. He peeked into the bowl, declared my job done, and folded the egg whites into the waffle batter. “Do you have a plan?”
“At work, I take soil samples. Lots and lots of soil samples. I’m going to do the same thing in the cellar: map out a grid, take samples, label where I got them, and get them tested.”
Christoph nodded while deftly pouring batter into the waffle iron. “And your class, what time does it start?”
“Noon.”
“You better grab breakfast and get going,” he said. “You don’t want
