Crows of a Feather

7. Elvira has a party

Elvira grabbed a jar of shimmering black powder from a kitchen cabinet. She divided it into two empty cups and gave one to me. "Pour this stuff on all the windowsills. Try not to leave any blank spots," she told me hastily. She started pouring her cup into a neat line in front of the garden door.

I got to work. The powder smelled like a forest, with hints of something burnt. I tried not to breathe it in.

I did all the windows, even the tiny one in the attic, and double checked that I'd gotten everything. Once I got back to the kitchen, my cup empty and my brow sweaty, I found Elvira going through the notepad by the fridge that they usually used for grocery lists and reminders.

"Come here," she said distractedly.

I walked over to her. Next to the notepad was a Tupperware box filled with some sort of a paste. It was an earthy orange colour with specs of green and red. It smelled so spicy it made my eyes water.

"What is that?" I asked.

"It's something Fi made, just in case," Elvira said. She scooped up some of the goop with two fingers, and with her other hand she pushed my curls back to reveal my forehead. She then proceeded to slowly draw a line on it with the paste, like in the beginning of the Lion King. She muttered something in a foreign language; it sounded like broken Gaelic.

"What's that for?" I sniffled. I hoped I was allowed to wash it off soon. Don't get me wrong, I love spicy food, but this stuff was too much.

"It's, uh... I think it's to mask our scents or something? I honestly don't know, Fi just told me how to use it," Elvira said. She scooped up some more paste and did the same to herself.

I felt a little bit stupid standing there with orange stuff on my forehead and powder on the windowsills. "What now?" I asked.

"We just have to pass the time," Elvira said. Her voice was good-humoured, but I could tell she was anxious.

"Is everyone else gonna be okay?" I asked, thinking of Charon and Amelia.

"The sirens will be fine, I doubt they'd get bothered. Your uncle called the Highmores, so they know to take precautions," Elvira explained.

"What did that guy mean? Who's coming?" I insisted. Elvira sat down on the kitchen tiles tiredly and leaned against the cabinets. I joined her. "You have to give me something."

"His name is Clayton Cross. He leads a pack of werewolves who have been targeting witches across the country," she explained.

I made a face. "His name is Clayton?"

"He prefers his last name," Elvira snorted. "But he is dangerous. He's been mainly focusing on the East Coast, but they've been approaching California for a while now."

"What do they want?" I asked.

Elvira hesitated. I could tell she wanted to tell me. "That's something you need to talk to your uncle about," she decided.

"You know he won't tell me jack shit," I pointed out. "Has it got something to do with the prophecy?"

"How do you know about that?" Elvira said quickly, sounding almost startled.

I reluctantly told her about the crow and the dreams. I thought she tensed even more when I told her about Ewart's phone call with someone. She chuckled when I mentioned Sibyl's misty cruise ship, which wasn't an important part of the story but I felt like it needed to be included anyway.

"That old harpy," she muttered when I was done.

"You know her," I said. For once, it was a statement, not a question.