Free Autumn Thorns by Yasmine Galenorn

a lot more from that than anything or anybody except Lila herself. Are you sure you don’t want to hang around and help?”
    Reluctantly, she stood. “I wish I could, but I really do need to run some errands. And Frith and Folly are waiting for me. But what about getting together for dinner? I can bring chicken.”
    The cloud suddenly lifted as a sense of nostalgic joy swept through me. How many dinners had Peggin and I shared over the years when we were young? How many confidences had we shared? And now, I was going to have that back again. I realized how keenly I had missed having my best friend by my side . . . any friends, really. The cats were great, but sometimes I needed somebody who could talk back to me in actual words. But, not wanting to sound maudlin, I just said, “Sounds good. I’ll make a salad and bake some potatoes.”
    I saw her to the door, hugging her once more before she left. In an odd way, I had my life back. The past couple of days, even given everything I’d learned, I felt more at home than I had all the years I’d been away. I shut the door and started hunting for Grandma Lila’s Shadow Journal.
    *   *   *
    T he Fellwater house resembled a castle en miniature. The central area—the living room and kitchen, were single story, but the two wings off to either side rose two floors high. They weren’t connected—you couldn’t get to one side of the second story from the other without going downstairs first.
    To the left of the kitchen and living room were my grandfather’s den, a bathroom, a pantry-utility room, and a staircase leading up to what had been two bedrooms and a bath. The bathroom was a Jack-and-Jill between my old bedroom and the guest room, though my room had been the more spacious of the two. Still furnished with my bed and some of the things I’d left behind, it was waiting like an old friend.Grandma Lila hadn’t changed the brilliant purples and pale gold I had chosen the last time we’d painted. The guest room, however, had been redone in shades of pale gray and light blue, with a vivid royal comforter on the bed, and the furniture had been painted white.
    To the right of the kitchen and living room, the hallway led to the master suite where my grandparents had slept and another staircase, leading up to an attic and a spare room that my grandmother had used for her sewing.
    As I stood in the doorway to their bedroom, I realized just how much I’d been dreading this. Everywhere I looked were reminders. The air was tinged with the lingering scent of Grandma Lila’s favorite perfume: Lilac Orchard, a spicy floral scent. It mingled with the stale scent of Grandpa Duvall’s cigars and the acidic note of the aftershave he had used.
    I hesitated for another moment, then resolutely marched into the room. Gabby, Daphne, and Agent H sashayed their way behind me, curiosity lighting up their faces.
    â€œDon’t get into trouble, you three.” I frowned as they ignored me and promptly began to sniff their way into the closet and under the bed. I let them have at it. The bed was barely far enough off the ground for Agent H to slide under, but when I got down on my hands and knees and peeked, he seemed to be getting around okay. I just didn’t want him stuck. Maine Coons were big, and he was a good twenty-four pounds. Gabby opted for the closet, and the sound of shifting boxes and shoes told me she was working her way to the back. Daphne, however, decided she wanted to sprawl out on top of the bed, where she rolled over on her back, tufted feet hovering in the air. The blending of orange and black fur didn’t extend to her stomach, which was a blaze of white. She squirmed happily. Laughing, I leaned over and rubbed her tummy with my nose. She purped and bounced away.
    Refocusing, I headed for the bathroom. Though I’d taken my showers in there, I hadn’t really poked