Diana spun around when I tapped her shoulder and I could see she’d been crying. But she smiled and said, “Isn’t it great that so many people came to say good-bye?”
I nodded, and Vi gave her a hug.
“I got worried earlier that maybe with all the talk about people arguing with Rafe that not many would show up, but look at this.” She held her arms out toward the crowd and I remembered how much she had loved Rafe. I had begun to think of him as just another victim, and a not very nice one at that, but Diana had seen another side of him and I was glad for her that so many people agreed with her. However, I was picking up a tense feeling from the fringes of the crowd. They didn’t all have their solemn funeral faces on. In fact some of them appeared to be heckling the crowd. One clump of boys in their early twenties had clearly been drinking and were still passing a couple of brown bags around, taking sips, and getting louder.
Then I looked the other way, down the street, and saw a small group of people with hand-painted signs: PAGANS GO HOME! REPENT! FEAR GOD! WICCA: SATAN’S LIE! My chest tightened. Protesters.
I tried to usher Diana inside before she saw them, but I was too late.
“What are they doing here?” she said.
“Who? What?” Vi said and looked around.
“There’s Skye,” Seth said, and pointed.
Skye, dressed in a long black robe with a hood, approached the crowd with her hands up. The group stopped. Skye spoke to the woman standing in the front of the group.
“Is that her mother?” I said to Seth.
He nodded. “I think so.” Seth’s phone buzzed. I glanced over his shoulder and saw a text from Faith: Have things gotten interesting yet?
He switched off his phone with a disgusted snort. “She knew,” he said to me.
28
The sound of breaking glass caught everyone’s attention. Someone had thrown a rock through the front window of the Reading Room. I spun around, ignoring the protestors for the moment, to focus on the gang of drinkers.
Lucan Reed pushed his way through the crowd, shoving people out of the way if they didn’t move fast enough. He approached the clot of rowdy twenty-somethings. Vi, Seth, and I moved closer to them to hear what they were saying. I clutched Diana’s hand in my own and dragged her with us.
“That’s going to cost you, son,” Lucan said to a lanky kid with sandy brown hair that fell into his eyes. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and the rest of his friends backed away.
“Owen! What are you doing here?” Skye left the protestors, circled the crowd, and ran up to Lucan and his prisoner.
“Why do you have to hang around with these freaks?” Owen said to Skye. Lucan gave him a little shake.
“Lucan, you can let him go. He’s not dangerous,” Skye said.
“Oh, is this your new boyfriend?” Owen slurred his words and stumbled a bit when Lucan let go of him. “The old guy kicked off so you’ve moved on already.” He flung his arm in Lucan’s direction. “I know you’ve been meeting him in secret.”
“Owen, go home. We’ll talk later.” Skye had her hands up and was trying to calm him down, but Owen was on a roll.
“I’m not afraid of him, Skye. Everything was cool until you got into this . . . group.” Owen stepped forward and took a wild swing at Lucan, who easily sidestepped him and placed him in a headlock as the kid spun around.
“Wicked,” Seth whispered next to me.
“Oh, no,” Diana said.
I heard muttering from the small group of activists and turned to see Charla approaching from the police station.
“All right, that’s enough.” Charla pushed her way through the throng and approached Owen and Lucan.
I noticed some of Owen’s confederates on the outer edges of the crowd peel away and walk back down the street, the way they came.
“What’s going on here?” Charla directed her question at Lucan.
“Thish guy attacked me, offisher,” Owen said to Charla.
Lucan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He pulled himself to his full six-foot-plus height and glowered at Owen. Owen slid behind Charla.
The signs had disappeared, and the anti-Wiccan activists murmured amongst themselves. Charla walked toward them and said, “Move along now. Unless you’re here to pay your respects, you can just keep moving.”
Bea’s lips pressed into a thin line but she turned away with the rest of her group and within a minute only Owen and Lucan remained.
“Someone threw a rock through the window and it looks like there may have been a demonstration planned,” Lucan said.
“No. I had nothing to do with them,” Owen said. He waved his arm toward the retreating group of demonstrators. “I came here for Skye.”
“Okay, no one’s been hurt, that I can see,” Charla said. She pulled out her pad of tickets. “I’m giving you a citation for disorderly conduct.” She ripped it off and handed it to Owen. “And you can pay for the window.”
“Oh, man,” Owen whined.
“Is there anyone here who can get you home?” Charla asked. “I better not catch you driving yourself or you’ll spend the night at the jail.”