I had to dig through some boxes from my move to find any makeup beyond mascara. Flashes of Morgan’s overly made-up eyes had me hesitating as I assessed the situation in the mirror. Barring colored contacts, there was no way to disguise the different-colored eyes. They were very different and I thought it made my face look like a composite of two different people. Sisters, certainly. I didn’t resemble Frankenstein, but still, the asymmetry meant that even if I met that mathematical ideal all the magazines talked about, something always appeared “off” about my face. Mac obviously knew about my eyes, so trying to disguise them would only serve to draw attention. I pulled my brown hair out of its usual ponytail and fluffed it. I always hoped Diana’s curls would rub off on me, but no luck.
Jeans, a long-sleeved, slightly clingy shirt, and a leather jacket would have to do for a seductive outfit. I never wore skirts. But I chose an old pair of high-heeled boots because I knew Mac liked them. I heard Mac’s four-beat knock before I could rethink my outfit or change my shoes. Before I answered the door, I reached for my phone and turned off the volume—no one would be interrupting us tonight.
Mac’s blue eyes grew dark when I opened the door. “You look fantastic.”
He glanced around the living room and up the stairs.
“Seth’s at my parents,” I said.
“That’s very good news.” He pulled me to him and we celebrated our few moments of privacy. Then my stomach growled.
Mac laughed. “Hungry?”
I shrugged and nodded.
“Let’s go,” he said. Then he leaned toward me and whispered, “I don’t want you weak from hunger.”
My feet wobbled in my boots as I followed him out the door.
We ended up in Grand Rapids. I didn’t want to take any chances of being seen by anyone who would report back to my family.
We spent the next couple of hours happily anonymous at one of the new restaurants downtown that featured multicourse dinners. The benefit was that it took a while and the pace of the evening slowed. I felt my shoulders relax and knew that this is what I had desperately needed. We avoided any mention of Rafe Godwin or Dylan. I didn’t want to argue with Mac tonight and even though I did think he could do more to help Dylan, I knew he was doing his job and wouldn’t let any personal feelings get in the way of that.
I told him funny stories about the festival and some of the crazy stuff I had seen at the booths. When I got to Morgan and her revenge spell kits, Mac did a dramatic shiver and steered the conversation away from black magick.
By the time the check arrived, we had finished a bottle of wine and were laughing about old times. I leaned on Mac on our way out of the restaurant, feeling unstable on the unfamiliar heels. In his car, we spent a few minutes steaming up the windows until some kids from the art school wandered by, hooting and catcalling. Mac put the car in gear and we headed south toward home.
*
We were just outside of Crystal Haven, listening to oldies on the radio and looking forward to the rest of the evening, when we came around a bend in the road and Mac’s headlights caught a light-colored lump on the side of the road. At first I thought it was a dog that had been hit by a car. But it wasn’t.
“Shit,” Mac said.
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and jumped out to check on the person—because we could see now that it was a person—lying on the shoulder.
Mac reached the crumpled form first and I saw him check for a pulse.
“Clyde, call 911.”
I had already dialed and was waiting for them to pick up. The person was large, with dark red hair pulled into a ponytail. He was wearing running gear and even as my mind pushed the thought away, I realized it was Lucan.
Mac knelt next to him. “You’re going to be fine. We’ve called for help.”
Lucan groaned softly.
“Don’t move, just stay where you are,” Mac told him. We both knew it was best to keep him still in case he had suffered a neck or back injury.
“Big SUV,” Lucan said.
Mac and I exchanged a worried look.
“A car hit you?” Mac asked. But Lucan didn’t answer.
Mac felt for a pulse again. “Where’s that ambulance?” He glared down the road as if that would bring it more quickly.
Lucan moved his head and coughed.
“Lucan, can you hear me?” Mac said.
“Should we take him to the hospital ourselves?” I said.
“Lucan, can you move at all?” Mac said.
Lucan raised his hand and started to try to sit up. He cried out in pain and lay back down.
I noticed his leg was at an odd angle. “Mac, I think his leg is broken.”
“He’s breathing okay and I don’t know how we’ll be able to move him,” Mac said. “It’s probably best to just wait for the ambulance. You stay here with him. I have some flares in my trunk. I’ll put them along the road so we don’t have any more accidents.”
Feeling completely useless, I sat on the gravel shoulder and watched Lucan.
“It backed up,” Lucan said quietly.
“What? What backed up?”
“Car.”
“The car that hit you backed into you?”
I thought it must have been going pretty fast in reverse to do this kind of damage.
“Drove over . . . legs.”
I gasped. “The car that hit you backed over you?”
He nodded and coughed again.