Witch (Supernatural #2)

16: Hellish Talks

Chat, noun.

1. informal conversation.
2.  a real-time conversation, as between two or more people or between a representative of a business and a customer, over the Internet or other networks.

***

The January air was cold on my face. Because I hadn't planned on taking a stroll through St. Faith, I hadn't bothered with anything other than my coat. A decision I came to regret now. It would have taken very little magic to summon my hat, scarf, and gloves from where I had left them in my room. However, with the Order out in St. Faith killing witches and warlocks who were performing magic - and considering I already had two strikes - I thought it best not to.

As I walked, I wasn't sure where I was going. My mind was elsewhere and didn't want to meddle with the decisions my feet were making. Every turn seemed random. Maybe it was best not to think about where I was going; if I did want to think about it, where would I go? Back to the hellhounds, hoping Noah was still there with the car? Yeah, I think not. Home, where Noah was likely to be now? And if he wasn't waiting for me then Grandma surely was.

Wandering the town sounded like the better option, even if I was freezing.

I walked and walked, heading into Starbucks to get a drink before I walked some more. The drink warmed me for as long as it lasted. Then I was back to being cold and trying to convince myself that I wasn't. I had no idea how long I walked because I had no idea at what time I had run off. I just kept going.

Until I had enough, then I stopped and looked to see where I had ended up.

At first, I didn't recognize the residential neighborhood. It looked nice, the driveways both empty of snow and of cars. Everything else was covered in a layer of snow though, and Christmas decorations still graced the front lawns. Then I recognized the lone ash tree and the reindeer by the front door. Somehow, I had found my way to Ken's house.

That was quite a feat considering I hadn't really paid attention when he had driven us here, so I had no real idea where he lived.

Meaning I had no idea how to walk home from here either, leaving me with only one option.

I walked up the path to the front door and knocked. It took a few seconds, but then Mrs. McDaniel opened the door. She looked at me surprised for a second before she smiled broadly. "Isla, what a nice surprise!"

"Hi, Mrs. McDaniel, is Ken home?"

"You're in luck. He usually heads out as soon as he comes home. And I told you to call me Astrid."

"I tried. I prefer calling you Mrs. McDaniel."

She laughed at that one, stepping to the side so that I could come on. A wave of heat hit me like an excited pet that couldn't wait to greet you. I hadn't realized just how cold I had gotten when I paused in the hall to pressed my frozen hands against the heater.

"Go on up, dear. Want me to make you a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you."

She frowned but watched me head up without another word. The door to Ken's room was the only one that was open, showing him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. His head turned my way when the top stepped creaked; he was up and across the room by the time I made it to the actual door.

"Isla? What are you doing here? You know, when I asked you to call, I meant a phone call, not this kind of call."

"I can go if you don't want me here. I don't even know why I'm here; maybe I should go. I just... I..."