It was a moment when my life seemed . . . complex. A few drops of rain splashed on my windshield as I pulled out of the parking lot. I hoped I had enough milk for breakfast, because I sure hadn’t checked before I left the house. Did I have some bottled blood to offer the vampires? Just in case, I stopped at the Piggly Wiggly and got some. Grabbed up some milk, too. And some bacon. I hadn’t had a bacon sandwich in ages, and Terry Bellefleur had brought me some early fresh tomatoes.

I slung my plastic bags into the front seat of the car and dove in after them, because the rain abruptly slammed down in earnest. The back of my T-shirt was soaked, and my ponytail hung sodden on my neck. I reached in the backseat and pulled my umbrella into the front. It was an old one my gran had used to cover her head when she’d come to watch me playing softball, and when I looked at the faded stripes of black and green and cerise, I felt a smile on my face.

I drove home slowly and carefully. The rain drummed on the car and bounced up from the pavement like tiny jackhammers. My headlights hardly seemed to make a dent in the rain and the gloom. I glanced at the dashboard clock. It was already after seven. Of course I had plenty of time before the Victor Murder Committee met, but it would be a relief just to get to the house. I considered the dash I’d have to make from the car to the house. If Dermot had gone out already, he would have left the door to the back porch locked. I’d be completely exposed to the rain while I fumbled with the keys and my two heavy bags of milk and blood. Not for the first or last time, I thought of spending my savings—the money from Claudine’s estate and the lesser sum of Hadley’s legacy (Remy hadn’t called, so I had to assume he’d meant he truly didn’t want her money)—in getting a carport attached to the house.

I was thinking of how I’d situate such a structure, and wondering how much it would take to build it, as I pulled up behind the house. Poor Dermot! By asking him to go out tonight I’d doomed him to a miserable, wet time in the woods. At least, I assumed he’d think it would be miserable. Fairies had a whole different scale than I did. I could lend him my car, and he could drive to Jason’s, maybe.

I peered through the windshield, hoping I’d see a light on in the kitchen signaling Dermot’s presence.