“No,” I answered, my voice muffled by cotton stuffing.
The side of the futon sank. I rolled slightly with the weight of a body determined to take away my covers.
“I know you’re awake,” Tanner said, “and I know you started to bleed.”
I ran my hand over my hip and around one side of my butt in an attempt to tuck my nightgown closer without getting blood on it. “I’m hiding.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
I shook my head, pouting. “I want tea.”
“Be right back.”
Before I could plot an escape route out the window and to…to where, I had no idea, Tanner returned, accompanied by the pungent aroma of a strong batch of Assam. The warm washcloth he put into my hand after setting a mug on my desk broke my stoicism. “Thank you”.
He nodded. “Take your time, but when you’re ready, you have to call Rose.”
“I know.”
“There’s a towel on your desk,” he said, tilting his head to the right. “Harper and Thatcher took the Jeep to work, and they’ll be back this evening, right after they’re done at the market. James is coming to pick up Leilani. As soon as he does, Kaz and I will head over to help Cliff.
“I’ll be in touch later.” He patted my hip, stood from the crouch, and left, closing the door behind him.
I rolled onto my belly and pressed the warm washcloth to my forehead. Feeling slightly less petulant, I called Rose to give her my good news.
“We’ll do the ceremony tonight,” she informed me. “I’ll text you the location. No, I’ll have Belle pick you up. Around nine.”
No. No, no, no. “Wait, Rose, tonight is too soon. There’s an investigation I’m conducting as part of my job, and there’s been some trouble here at my house.” I took a deep breath through my nose, let it out slowly. “I have to make sure my kids are safe. Tanner and Kazimir are helping.”
Rose took her time responding. “I understand there are times when family comes first, Calliope. And another twenty-four hours does give me more time to extend an invitation to witches who live farther away.” Her voice trailed off before she came back and took charge of my calendar with renewed vigor. “Tomorrow night, then. August first. Which is also Lughnasadh…”
Rose disappeared again; all I heard was distant breathing and the shuffle of papers.
“Lugh what?” I asked, hoping to call her back and settle on a plan so I could get myself to the bathroom before I bled through to the futon covering.
“I keep forgetting how much you don’t know,” Rose harrumphed. “Lughnasadh is one of our eight sabbats. We bring together covens and other practitioners of magic who have a kinship to the festival. We’ll just be a little more seat-of-the-pants and prepare for holding your Blood Ceremony first, and once you’re in the Mother Tree, we’ll continue with the scheduled celebration.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Unless you hear otherwise, Belle will escort you to the ritual ground.”
“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” How was I supposed to prepare to be “in a tree”?
“No baths while you’re bleeding, only showers. And do not use tampons, only pads.” She continued as though reading from a printed list of instructions. “Tomorrow morning, do not eat after breakfast. You may have water and herbal teas only, nothing with stimulants. Wash your hair and oil your skin. Prepare yourself as though you were going on an important date. Try not to get angry or upset, and most of all, rest. It’s going to be another long night, and you’ll manage better with the after effects if you’re rested when we begin.”
That didn’t sound scary.
“Thank you, Rose,” I said, knowing the witch on the other end had hung up. Rose was beginning to remind me of my aunt. I’d make it through today and tomorrow and let Belle nurture me on the drive to wherever the ceremony would take place. I texted Rowan to give her the good news, had more of the tea, and strategized how I was going to get to my bathroom without leaving a bloody trail.
Cleaned up and flushed out, with a pad tucked into my underwear and garbed in a flowy, ankle-length cotton dress, I made my grand appearance in the kitchen.
No one was there. I served myself a bowl of sliced pineapple, bananas, and grapefruit, sprinkled shredded coconut on top, and headed to my garden.
If it weren’t for the solace offered by an old chair under my butt, warmed soil underfoot, and strong sun already warming my scalp, I wasn’t sure I could settle myself enough to be ready for whatever lay ahead, let alone be an open and willing participant.
Waving a persistent honey bee away from the fruit, I spooned another bite into my mouth, delighting in the contrast between cool and juicy on my tongue and the dry breeze feathering over my bared arms. I found it strange to be bleeding again. I’d only skipped two, maybe three cycles, and I had to admit I missed the familiar weightiness in my body and the physical and mental clarity that would come a few days after.
The vines I had called on to trap Doug and Roger broke through my musing, reaching out for affirmation and guidance. I offered the mental image of a flexible fence marking off a space around their invasive stalks, and asked that they confine their activity to a few small spots on the property. Their natural propensity for rapid propagation made it a hard vow to keep, but I gave them tacit permission to assist with future trespassers and thanked the vines again for answering my call. That seemed to cool their roots.
And it was time to go to work.
Kerry was probably wondering what all had gotten into me. I hadn’t left her much to do, and she was prone to adding her opinions to
