* * *
Weeks later, Iris stood in the driveway of what was now her house.
So freaking wild.
Her car was packed to the brim. She had no furniture, just clothes and bedding, various personal effects, and some kitchen items. Great-Aunt Gertie had accumulated a lifetime of stuff, and dealing with it was Iris’s problem. She had mixed feelings about that responsibility because she wasn’t good at detail management, but it had to be done, whether she liked it or not. At least she’d gotten an inventory list from Mr. Davis, so she knew exactly what the house held in store.
By selling Gertie’s car, Iris had gotten enough cash to pay off her roommates in Ohio, freeing her to hit the road. Two weeks ago, she’d been forced to turn off her cell phone; first order of business, get a prepaid SIM with some data and minutes on the cheap. She’d probably donate more plasma to install Wi-Fi. She couldn’t live without that, and her prospective roommates would expect to use it too.
The long drive had given her lots of time to think about the future, at least. Iris had a vague idea about renovating the place and turning it into a bed-and-breakfast, but she was wary of her own enthusiasm. Just look at the boxes of jewelry-making supplies in my trunk. With a sigh, Iris stretched, popped her back, and started unloading.
As she stacked boxes near the porch, a woman cut across an immaculate yard that was somehow still emerald green even though summer was over. Idly Iris wondered if they paid to have the dead grass painted. The woman was tall and statuesque with carefully curled hair, and she beamed a smile that alarmed Iris for some reason.
“Hey there! So good to get some fresh blood in the neighborhood!”
“Right,” said Iris, hoping she wasn’t about to meet her first real-life sanguine vamp.
“I’m Susan Calhoun. You must be moving into Crazy Gertie’s place. So glad she’s finally out of the way. Now you can spruce up the place! That porch is positively a death trap. I told her so many times that the mailman would fall through someday and then she’d get sued.” Susan clicked her tongue against her teeth. “But did she listen? Of course not!”
Before Iris could get a word in edgewise, Susan took a breath and kept going. “Anyway! I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I would’ve brought a casserole, but these days people are so picky. ‘I don’t eat meat, don’t eat dairy,’ and don’t get me started on people who think they’re allergic to gluten.”
Yelling at her new neighbor probably wasn’t the way to go, so Iris mumbled something noncommittal. She was actually kind of impressed at how wrong and awful Susan had managed to be in the space of two minutes. “Uh, thanks. I need to get my things inside, so…”
Susan didn’t take the hint, peering at Iris with judgmental eyes. “Hmm. At least you look normal. I was scared to death that a real weirdo would move in next door. You know, one of those types,” she added.
“I don’t follow,” she said.
The other woman shot her an incredulous look. “You must’ve read the news! Humanity is under siege. Witches have been intermingling with us secretly for years. They’re a major threat to our way of life. And I’ve read that—”
“Sorry to cut this short. If I don’t get these boxes inside soon, I’m afraid they might get rained on.”
“Right! We’ll talk more later. I do appreciate someone who knows the value of hard work. I’m expecting good things from you, oh, what was your name? You didn’t tell me.”
You didn’t let me.
“Iris Collins. Gertrude Van Doren was my great-aunt,” she said deliberately.
Susan let out a nervous cough. “Right. Well, I’m sure you knew she was a few hot dogs shy of a picnic, so it’s not like I spoiled the ending of a good movie. TTYL!”
“Who says TTYL?” Iris mumbled, hoisting a box and hauling it into the house.
She wished she’d put Susan in her place, but at this juncture, she couldn’t cope with additional problems. Once she got settled in, she’d make it clear to that awful woman just where Iris stood on all that bigoted BS. It took her an hour to drag everything inside, and she left it cluttering up the foyer, too tired to put anything away after the long drive.
Like the last time she’d visited, it was late, but at least she had the utilities sorted out. The power, water, and gas were in her name, thanks to some guidance from Mr. Davis.
Iris couldn’t bring herself to sleep on any of the mattresses because who knew how long it had been since they were cleaned. Maybe never. And while she wasn’t ordinarily that picky about housekeeping, there was something unnerving about being in a house by herself that had belonged to someone who’d passed away.
Yeah, I can’t let myself think along those lines. My imagination will kick in.
Before the world changed and the witches stepped out of the shadows, sometimes she’d even imagined she caught glimpses of the elusive fae while walking in the woods. Since her family was…unusual, she’d believed in ghosts, unicorns, and mermaids too. To Iris, it always seemed strange that her sisters didn’t wonder at all about the other paranormal communities that might be quietly coexisting nearby, hidden in plain sight just like her family. But no, instead of being curious, her sisters used to wind her up with far-fetched stories, which usually ended with Iris in tears and Mom scolding her for being difficult and dramatic.
Good times.
Her phone pinged, and Rose popped up in the notifications. Until now, nobody had messaged her since she’d skipped Rose’s party, and if she was honest, she’d welcomed the silence. Things hadn’t been the same since Iris brought home her boyfriend of two months …and her sister Lily had snapped him up.
She hadn’t been in love with Dylan, but in her view, both he and Lily were wrong. He shouldn’t have flirted with her sister, and Lily damn sure shouldn’t have gone along with it, even if those two were a better fit. Now everything was awkward, and Iris couldn’t help feeling resentful toward everyone currently enabling that relationship.
It felt like she didn’t even have a family anymore, frankly. She wished she could opt out, like people did with newsletters they didn’t want anymore. But there was no button to press that would get her out of those blood ties. Iris sucked in a calming breath, wishing that she was enough for someone. Anyone. Without changing who she was or—
She could practically hear her mother’s admonition—Get your head out of the clouds. Dreams won’t get you anywhere. It’s all about hard work. Look at how well Rose is doing.
Mom usually didn’t add the last, unspoken sentence: Why can’t you be more like your sister? But Iris didn’t have to hear the words to know Mom was thinking them. Pretty much everyone believed that Iris was wasting her life.
It was yet another layer of disappointment that Iris was so…average, unable to share in the family legacy or even know what it was like to…feed. Which was a gross way to put it, but her family seemed to look on most humans as a snack pack rather than individuals with their own hopes and dreams. Olive was the only exception, as she genuinely cared about others. Iris should be able to relate better to humans, but her sisters were experts in mental and emotional manipulation; they had…well, minions seemed like the right word to Iris, even if Lily and Rose called them “friends.”