Two Ghosts for Sister Rachel by Kim Harrison

Author:Kim Harrison [Harrison, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-08-05T02:42:06+00:00

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Chapter 6

The cabbie drove away from my house slowly, the sound of his car muffled from the piled snow. In the Hollows there would be bonfire parties and neighborhood howls, but here, on my street, it was quiet. Pierce's steps were almost silent next to mine as we left prints on the walk to the porch. It had stopped snowing, and I looked up at the red-bottomed clouds through the cold, black branches of the maple tree I had planted for my dad upon his death. My throat closed and I touched it in passing. I was glad he was at rest, but it would have been nice to have had him back again as solid as Pierce was—even if just for the night.

Pierce hung back as I went up the three cement steps and twisted the knob to no avail. "My mom must be out," I said, swinging my bag around to look for my keys. The porch light was on, and her prints showed where she had gone to the garage and not come back. Maybe some last-minute shopping? Maybe down to the I.S. tower to pick up Robbie? I had a bad feeling it was the latter.

"This is a very beautiful house," Pierce said, facing the neighborhood and the bright lights and snowmen keeping guard.

"Thanks," I said as I dug in my jeans pocket for my house key. "Most witches live in the Hollows across the river in Kentucky, but my mom wanted to live here." Finding my keys, I looked up to see a faint bewilderment in his gaze. "Both she and my dad were in high school during the Turn, and I think she likes passively making trouble when she can get away with it—like living in a predominantly human neighborhood."

"As is the mother, so the daughter?" he said dryly.

My key was warm, and I slipped it into the lock. "If you like."

Only now did Pierce come up the steps, giving the street a last look before he did.

"Mom?" I called when I opened the door, but I knew from the dull glow of light in the hall coming from the kitchen that the house was empty. Glancing at Pierce on the threshold, I smiled. "Come on in."

Pierce looked at the gray slush on his boots. "I'm not of a mind to soil your rugs."

"So stomp your feet," I said, taking his arm and pulling him in. "Shut the door before you let all the heat out."

The shadow of the closing door prompted me to flick on the hallway light, and Pierce squinted at it. I hated the green color my mom had painted the hallway and living room. Pictures covered the passage to the kitchen: pictures of me and Robbie, slices of our lives.

I glanced back at Pierce, who was still staring at the light but clearly making an effort to not say anything. I hid a smile and wondered how much longer his efforts to not look unimpressed would win out over his curiosity.

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