Supernatural 2 - Witch's Canyon by Jeff Mariotte

Author:Jeff Mariotte
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-05-21T04:00:00+00:00

Wanda Sheffield was disappointed to see that the snow had stopped during the night. She'd curled up under her down comforter the night before, hoping that when she opened her eyes again a blanket of white would cover the land, flocking all the trees and creating the winter wonderland effect that would help put her in the Christmas spirit.

Christmas was Wanda's favorite time of year. She loved the music, the decorations, the general good cheer. She even liked shopping in crowded malls, as long as the stores were dressed for the holidays. She wore bright clothes, heavy on the reds and greens, and she seemed, on those occasions, to have a perpetual grin on her face, like some kind of happy idiot.

This year the mood hadn't quite caught her up yet. It would, she had no doubt of that. And it was early in the month yet.

Still, a good heavy snowfall would have set her nicely down the Christmas road.

She would survive the disappointment, she figured, one way or another. To that end, she brewed a small pot of fair trade organic French roast and put a couple of croissants she had picked up the day before in the oven to warm. She got some boysenberry jam from the refrigerator, along with a container of heavy cream. If one intended to pamper oneself, she had long believed, half measures weren't worth the trouble. From a cabinet, she took a real china cup, the kind that came with a saucer and seemed so out of vogue these days, and she put a spoonful of sugar into the bottom of it.

Wanda didn't like a lot of clutter around, so although she would decorate for the holidays, she hadn't done so yet. She kept her home, a 1970s A-frame, neat and clean, and as she worked in the kitchen, she put used utensils and dishes into the sink and ran a little water over them. After sitting at a pine dining table and consuming her breakfast, she carried those dishes back to the sink, rinsed them, and put the whole lot in the dishwasher.

While she was straightening up after bending over the dishwasher, she thought a shadow passed across her back window.

She closed the dishwasher's stainless steel door and walked over to the window. It looked out onto a quarter acre of flat yard, then a thick expanse of trees. A few birds—the kind she called LGBs, for "little gray birds," because she didn't know their real names—jumped and flitted about on yesterday's snow, pecking through it for bugs or seeds or whatever it was they ate off the ground. Grass poked through the snow in tufts here and there, and one scraggly bush, its reed-like branches bent toward the ground by late fall's snow and ice, offered shelter to a couple of the tiny birds.

None of those looked big enough to have cast such a shadow on the window. Wanda pressed her face against the cool glass, leaving an oval of steam

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