Homecoming (22 page)

“I'm glad, Bear. You deserve the best. No matter what—you must always remember that.”

Then Eleanora turned and walked down the hallway, leaving Lyse alone in the kitchen to bask in the warming glow of newfound love.

L
yse was slipping a clean shirt on when she heard a voice calling to her.

“Hello? Anyone up?”

She poked her head out the bedroom door but didn't see anyone in the hallway.

“Yes, hello?” Lyse said. “I'm up. Who's there?”

She walked down the hall, peering through the doorway that led to Eleanora's room, and found Daniela sitting up in the bed, her bright pink head propped on a mound of pillows.

“Hi,” Lyse said, uncertainly.

But in her head, she thought:
Why is Daniela in Eleanora's bed?

“You have the funniest look on your face.”

“I'm just . . .” Lyse stopped herself from adding the word
surprised
. “Well, it's been kind of a strange twenty-four hours.”

“You're blushing,” Daniela said.

“Oh, yeah, well, I don't know,” Lyse said, looking away to hide her embarrassment.

Daniela raised an eyebrow.

“From the look on your face, I'd say it was a
very
interesting night.” Daniela laughed. “Hey, is Eleanora awake? I thought I heard her moving around.”

“She's up. I ran into her earlier puttering around the kitchen. I think she was getting stoned.”

“Ha!” Daniela laughed again. “Sounds about right. She acts like she's only been doing it since the doc prescribed her that medical marijuana card, but I hear tell she and my mom used to be total hippies in the sixties.”

“Wait, where did you hear that?”

“My mom. And, I mean, they lived here. In hippie-dippie Los Angeles. In this place.” Daniela raised her arms to indicate the house. “My mother and Eleanora were blood sisters together in the Echo Park coven.”

Lyse frowned.

“I had no idea.”

“How could you?” Daniela replied. “Eleanora wouldn't have said anything. She hardly ever talks about the past.”

“I can imagine why,” Lyse said. “I think she had a pretty shitty one.”

“But then she found the coven. And from what my mother said, the time they spent with Hessika in Echo Park were some of the best years of both of their lives.”

“I wish she'd told me some of this stuff before,” Lyse said.

“Well, do you believe it now?” Daniela asked. “Because if you don't believe any of this now, as an adult, do you really think you would've been open to it as a teenager?”

This was food for thought.

“I'm right, aren't I?” Daniela continued. “You're still not sure if any of this is real.”

“I don't know what I believe,” Lyse said, leaning against the doorjamb.

“I think you have to follow your heart,” Daniela replied. “Do what feels right.”

Lyse turned at the sound of the back door slamming shut.

“Hold on. I think I'm gonna go see if I can catch her.”

Lyse took off, giving Daniela a wave as she jogged down the hallway.

But she found the kitchen empty save for Eleanora's water glass, which was drying in the sink.

Lyse opened the back door and looked outside.

“Eleanora?”

She stepped out onto the deck and called Eleanora's name again—with no response. She walked to the front of the house, but Eleanora wasn't there, either. Nor was she on the arched bridge, or the stairs leading to the street. Lyse followed the deck around to the far side of the house where Eleanora's garden was planted. The neat rows of beets, endive, carrots, artichokes, and cauliflower were bursting with color from yesterday's rain—but there was no sign of her great-aunt.

Lyse jogged down to the street, and even though it was late on a Saturday morning, she found no signs of human life, just empty asphalt and sidewalks wet with dew.

“Eleanora!?” she called, though she knew it was pointless.

“Eleanora!”

After a few minutes of standing on the sidewalk, she gave up and went back inside. There was no reason to wait for someone who wasn't there.

*   *   *

“I'm heading over to Dev's,” Daniela said when she came into the kitchen. “Join me? If you feel like going out, that is.”

Lyse was sitting at the round oak table, in the middle of her second cup of coffee. She'd used the stovetop espresso maker, and the influx of caffeine had helped to shake off her exhaustion—at least temporarily.

“Yeah?” Lyse said, looking up from the magazine she was reading. An old copy of
Scientific American
that she'd foraged from Eleanora's bathroom. “You think Eleanora will be there?”

Daniela poured herself some espresso and took the seat across from Lyse.

“Maybe. Though after the rough night we had, I'm surprised she's not still sleeping,” Daniela said, taking a sip from her mug, and making a face. “Needs cream.”

She went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of half-and-half.

“Rough night?”

“A little trouble at my house,” Daniela said. “I don't want to talk about it right now.”

“So, what's happening at Dev's house, then?” Lyse asked, deciding not to press Daniela on the other subject.

“Well, Dev's an amazing cook, and she and her partner, Freddy, do this brunch thing at their Echo Park Weekend Bar. The whole neighborhood is usually there. Free food,” Daniela said, trying to get a peek at the cover of the magazine Lyse was reading. She held it up so Daniela could see. “
Scientific American
, eh?”

“Eleanora's ‘light' bathroom reading,” Lyse said. “Hey, no gloves today?”

“Yeah, that's part of the whole ‘rough night' thing,” Daniela said, looking at her bare hands. “I gotta make a pit stop at my place to get another pair.”

“Cool,” Lyse said, nodding.

“I can totally see it in your eyes—”

“My eyes?” Lyse said.

“You're
so
curious, and you can barely restrain yourself from asking—”

“Asking about what?”

Daniela waggled her fingers at Lyse.

“The story of the gloves,” Daniela said, reaching for the creamer and pouring half the carton into her mug before taking a sip. “Much better.”

“I'm a coffee addict, and I spend a lot of time in coffee shops,” Lyse said, resting her elbows on the tabletop and staring at Daniela. “But I've never seen anyone use that much creamer. Ever.”

Daniela laughed.

“Love the caffeine buzz, hate the actual coffee.”

“So, why the gloves, then?” Lyse asked, taking the bait.

“More fun magic-related stuff,” Daniela said. “Can you handle it?”

“Sure. Hit me.”

“Well, I'm an empath,” Daniela said. She waited for a response. “Okay, you don't have a problem with that. Good. Because what I do is a little bit like seeing into someone's soul.”

She laughed as Lyse leaned back in her chair, putting space between them.

“Don't worry, I'm not an outright mind reader. I need to be touching you with my bare hands in order to see what you're thinking and feeling.”

Lyse sat back up in her chair.

“Sorry.”

“No worries, I totally get it,” Daniela said. “It freaks me out and I'm the one who can do it.”

“So the gloves protect people from you?” Lyse asked, and Daniela shook her head.

“Other way around, actually. My brain overloads when I use my gift, and I have a seizure—too many of them and my brain gets fried. Permanently.”

“Holy shit,” Lyse said, frowning.

“So I try to wear the gloves at all times.”

“If I see someone wearing leather gloves on a hot summer day, that equals empath?” Lyse asked, but Daniela shook her head.

“Not always,” Daniela said. “There aren't that many of us out there. And there are even fewer ones like me.”

“And what makes you so special?” Lyse asked.

“I'm a little . . . unusual. Where most empaths might just
feel
another person's emotions and thoughts, I can change them.”

Lyse stared at her.

“You're full of shit.”

“I'm not,” Daniela said. “I can touch you and you can see for yourself—”

“No, that's okay,” Lyse said—not wanting to risk the slight chance that Daniela might actually be telling the truth.

“I don't change things in people's minds anymore,” Daniela said.

“Anymore?” Lyse said, looking concerned. “Not sure that makes me feel any better.”

“I promise that you're safe with me—”

“If any of this is even real,” Lyse said, flipping the magazine over and staring at a random page. “Which I still doubt.”

“Believe in it or not,” Daniela said, cupping her coffee mug between her palms. “It almost doesn't matter.”

“I think we should get out of here,” Lyse said. “See if we can find Eleanora.”

“Sure,” Daniela agreed, getting up and setting her mug in the sink. “But pit stop at my house first.”

*   *   *

“I just need to stop, grab some gloves, and feed the girls,” Daniela said, crossing the street to her house. “Then we can go.”

“The girls?” Lyse asked, slipping the shawl's hood over her head to keep the chilly morning air at bay.

“Verity and Veracity,” Daniela said, opening the gate. “My cats.”

As if on cue, two large black felines appeared out of nowhere, skulking onto the porch.

“They're gorgeous,” Lyse said, unconsciously moving toward them. “Are they friendly?”

“They're whores,” Daniela said, laughing. “And their fee is cat food and heavy petting.”

The two cats made a beeline for Lyse as she knelt by the porch steps, their sleek bodies sharklike as they circled her for attention. She was surprised by their strangely human faces: elongated noses, pursed mouths, and oddly round eyes that seemed to see right into Lyse's soul. She found herself relaxing as she petted them, something about their mellow vibe rubbing off on her.

“They're so alike. How would you tell them apart if their tails weren't different?” Lyse asked, turning to Daniela.

“They're like night and day to me. I could never mix them up—tails or no tails,” she said, shrugging. “Let me go in and get their food. I'm sure they're starving as usual.”

She left Lyse with the cats and went into the house. As the door swung inward on its hinges, Lyse gasped.

“Oh my God,” she said, immediately climbing to her feet. “What the hell happened?”

“This is the craziness from last night,” Daniela said, hesitating just inside the doorway. “Someone took my place apart and was still here when I got home. If Eleanora hadn't intervened—”

“You're kidding,” Lyse said, shocked.

“I only wish I were,” Daniela replied as she picked her way through the mess, Lyse right behind her.

At least now Lyse knew why Daniela had slept at Eleanora's the night before. No one could get any rest in this chaos.

When they got to the kitchen, Daniela righted a step stool that was lying on its side and climbed up so she could reach the top of the refrigerator.

“Do you mind keeping a lookout?” she said. “This is where the asshole attacked me last night and I feel kinda weird about turning my back to the door.”

“Of course,” Lyse said, hands on hips as she kept watch. “How much of this mess was caused by the guy trashing your place versus him trashing you?”

Daniela plucked her turquoise gloves off the top of the fridge and slipped them over her hands.

“Don't think he got off scot-free. I gave as good as I got,” Daniela said, retrieving a large plastic tub of cat food from the cabinet and handing it down to Lyse. “And here's the most important stuff.”

Daniela jumped down from the step stool.

“Hmm.” She looked at the tub of cat food. “What did Arrabelle and Eleanora feed them last night? This hasn't been touched.”

“Maybe these?” Lyse said, and pointed to two empty cans of smoked oysters lying in the sink.

“They did
not
,” Daniela said, exasperated.

“Oh, yes, they did,” Lyse said, looking down at the uneaten bowl of oysters on the floor. She kicked it with the toe of her sneaker. “And I don't think the cats liked them very much.”

“You guys must be starving,” Daniela said, uncapping the tub of cat food for the two felines twining around her ankles. She set their bowls—filled to the brim now—on the messy floor, and Lyse watched the cats attack, devouring the food.

“You'd think they hadn't eaten in weeks,” Daniela said, shaking her head. “Let's get out of here.”

Lyse followed Daniela through the house and out onto the front porch. Daniela took the steps at a jog, pushing through the gate and hitting the sidewalk in two seconds flat. Not knowing Devandra's address, Lyse was forced to follow at Daniela's pace.

“It's not too far,” Daniela said.