The Only Purple House in Town (Fix-It Witches, #4)(6)
Gertie probably hadn’t planned on dying alone, either. That made Iris feel closer to her, and she searched her memory, but she couldn’t recall what Gertie’s ability had been. On Iris’s dad’s side, they tended to feast on the positive emotions—anticipation, joy, excitement, and the like. She imagined that Gertie had nourished herself over her long life through joyous friendships, never taking enough to make anyone feel deprived.
Suddenly, her phone rang, making her jump. Mom’s picture flashed on the screen, like she’d summoned the woman with those thoughts. I need to put down a salt circle. Or maybe hang some garlic. If only Mom couldn’t enter without an invitation… Sadly, none of those remedies were effective at warding off her mother. Iris had heard that those old wives’ tales didn’t work on their blood-drinking counterparts, either, not that she’d met any of them. They were more reclusive than the fae.
“Hey, what’s up?” she said, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt.
New beginning. Don’t let her get in your head.
“What time will you be here?” Mom demanded.
“Pardon me?”
“The party, don’t tell me you forgot. We’re celebrating your sister’s promotion! It’s a huge deal, Iris. Do you know how rare it is for someone Rose’s age to make partner?” Sheer incredulity oozed down the phone line.
I hate my family.
No, I…love them. I’m supposed to, right?
But I hate them.
Rose was thirty-two, five years older than Iris. She was married to a judge who might run for state senate. Privately, Iris loathed her brother-in-law, Greg Connery. He was smug and pretentious, prone to name-dropping and boasting about his connections. If that wasn’t bad enough, he also watched Iris in ways that made her deeply uncomfortable, his gaze lingering on her ass, on her cleavage, while he lectured about her life choices. The one time she’d mentioned it to Rose, her sister practically hissed like a cat and threatened to tell Mom what a jealous liar Iris was.
So Rose either had no clue that her husband was a creep or refused to admit it. She fed all on the glorious negativity associated with law and politics in addition to adoring the upper-crust sound of Rose Collins-Connery, such elegant alliteration, and—
Fuck. I totally forgot about the party.
Honestly, that was typical. Iris tended to shove things she didn’t want to deal with out of her brain, and that worked fine until someone showed up to yell about how she’d let them down.
Like now.
At this point, she was pretty good at coming up with off-the-cuff lies to cover her own ass. This time, she decided to pretend this was an intentional decision, not a mental glitch. “Nobody will miss me,” she said lightly. “Something came up, so I’m not even in Ohio right now. Congratulate Rose for me, though.”
“Iris, please, just—”
“By the way, do you happen to recall how Great-Aunt Gertie’s powers worked?” If she had any.
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
“Because I’m curious, obviously.”
A long-suffering sigh slid out of her mother like a tire deflating. “Iris, tell me the truth. Are you in trouble again?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Are you boycotting this event because Lily is dating your ex? It’s not fair to punish Rose because you’re mad at Lily.”
Iris ignored that. “I have an appointment soon, so I need to go. Talk to you soon!” For once, Iris got the last word.
She disconnected while Mom was gearing up the interrogation, and that silence after she tapped the red phone icon felt like a huge victory.
* * *
Eli Reese wasn’t an internet stalker.
Which, come to think of it, sounded like something an internet stalker would say.
I should stop this.
It had been fifteen years since he first saw Iris Collins; he had been ten, and she was twelve. He had been a tiny kid, diminutive compared to the rest of his class. He couldn’t say he had a particular bully, one person devoted to making his life a living hell. But a few jerks took turns giving him shitty nicknames or knocking him over, and some of them took his stuff when he had something they wanted that he wasn’t big enough to protect. Those who didn’t participate looked away, in case they pissed someone off by standing up for him.
This was before his ability to shift kicked in, or he’d have had another means of escape. It would’ve been nice if he could’ve flown away from all the pain. Then came Iris, the rainbow after a violent storm. Honestly, it was embarrassing how clear and sharp his memory was, even after all this time. Roddy Frierson had shoved Eli down and was rummaging in his bag for Pokémon cards when an older girl strode up. She was in sixth grade, the highest level at Ridgecrest Elementary, and she had sunny brown hair in two braids, gray eyes brightened by outrage. She’d kicked Roddy right in the ass, tipping him over so he hit the floor next to Eli.
She took the bag away and handed it back. “Are you okay?” she’d asked.
Mutely, Eli had nodded, accepting her hand when she helped him up. Her hands were sticky from an open bag of gummy worms, and she offered him one. He ate it without hesitation, though he secretly thought gummy worms were freaking creepy. Bears were the way to go because they didn’t look like actual bears.