“I think you’re old enough to call me Vivian, don’t you?” Her eyes dropped to my abdomen.
“Going shopping?”
“Uh-huh.” No witch could lie to a fellow witch. Under the circumstances it was best to keep my responses brief.
“What a coincidence. So am I.” Behind Vivian two shopping carts detached themselves from the stack and rolled out of their corral.
“So you’re due in January?” she asked once we were inside. I fumbled and nearly dropped the paper bag of apples grown on a nearby farm.
“Only if I carry the babies to full term. I’m expecting twins.”
“Twins are a handful,” Vivian said ruefully. “Just ask Abby.” She waved at a woman holding two cartons of eggs.
“Hi, Diana. I don’t think we’ve met.” Abby put one of the cartons in the section of the cart designed for toddlers. She buckled the eggs into place using the flimsy seat belt. “Once the babies are born, you’ll have to come up with a different way to keep them from getting broken. I’ve got some zucchini for you in the car, so don’t even think of buying any.”
“Does everybody in the county know that I’m pregnant?” I asked. Not to mention what I was shopping for today.
“Only the witches,” Abby said. “And anybody who talks to Smitty.” A four-year-old boy in a striped shirt and wearing a Spider-Man mask sped by. “John Pratt! Stop chasing your sister!”
“Not to worry. I found Grace in the cookie aisle,” said a handsome young man in shorts and a gray and maroon Colgate University T-shirt. He was holding a squirming toddler whose face was smeared with chocolate and cookie crumbs. “Hi, Diana. I’m Abby’s husband, Caleb Pratt. I teach here.” Caleb’s voice was easy, but there was a crackle of energy around him. Could he have a touch of elemental magic?
My question highlighted the fine threads that surrounded him, but Vivian distracted me before I could be certain.
“Caleb is a professor in the anthropology department,” Vivian said with pride. “He and Abby have been a welcome addition to the community.”
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured. The whole coven must shop at the Cost Cutter on Thursday.
“Only when we need to talk business,” Abby said, reading my mind with ease. So far as I could tell, she had considerably less magical talent than Vivian or Caleb, but there was obviously some power in her blood. “We expected to see Sarah today, but she’s avoiding us. Is she okay?”
“Not really.” I hesitated. Once the Madison coven had represented everything I wanted to deny about myself and about being a Bishop. But the witches of London had taught me that there was a price to pay for living cut off from other witches. And the simple truth was that Matthew and I couldn’t manage on our own. Not after everything that had transpired at Sept-Tours.
“Something you want to say, Diana?” Vivian looked at me shrewdly.
“I think we need your help.” The words slipped out easily. My astonishment must have shown, for the three witches all started to laugh.
“Good. That’s what we’re here for,” she said, casting an approving smile at me. “What’s the problem?”
“Sarah’s stuck,” I said bluntly. “And Matthew and I are in trouble.”
“I know. My thumbs have been bothering me for weeks,” Caleb said, bouncing Grace on his hip.
“At first I thought it was just the vampires.”
“It’s more than that.” My voice was grim. “It involves witches, too. And the Congregation. My mother may have had a premonition about it, but I don’t know where to begin searching for more information.”