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happen?” she guessed.
    He rolled his eyes and stomped out the door. She couldn’t help it; she ran to the window and watched as he stormed out, kicking up tufts of dust, then climbed into his car and roared out of the driveway—backward.
    â€œAnd don’t come back!” she shouted after him, wondering why that sounded unconvincing.

Chapter 8
    W HERE is he?” Power demanded.
    â€œYou let him get away?” Flower asked, aghast.
    Rhea rubbed her eyes. She had let him go. What was wrong with her? Other than being attracted to the man she was supposed to kill. A man who had been very, very careful not to hurt her, despite almost constant provocation. A man she almost wanted to…help? Had she gone crazy in the past week? Or had she always been crazy?
    Still and all, he sure didn’t seem evil.
    â€œAnswer me,” Power said.
    â€œWhat, you wanted him to spend the night? Have a slumber party with cookies and warm milk? I thought you’d be glad he beat feet out of here, not bummed because you don’t have a jammy buddy.”
    â€œWatch your mouth.”
    â€œThe hell . You two are egging me on to kill this guy and get killed myself. Then he shows up and not only doesn’t kill me, doesn’t hurt any one of us. Then he came back . And didn’t hurt us again.”
    â€œHe isn’t in his prime quite yet. When he has thirty years, he will be formidable. And you. You’re already distracted.”
    â€œHe said he wouldn’t fight me.”
    â€œHe’s a liar.”
    â€œHe said it’d be cold-blooded murder on my part.”
    â€œAnd he has no respect for tradition,” her mother added.
    â€œThat’s true,” she had to admit.
    â€œRhea. You can’t be fooled by his tricks and his charm.” Flower paused, then took a deep breath and continued. “I admit he’s attractive. And he seems harmless. But he’s a Mere, descended from de Meres. He. Will. Kill. You.”
    â€œAnd then one of Violet’s kids will kill his kid.”
    â€œYes, or one of your other nieces or nephews, assuming he has already fathered a child, or will in the next couple of years.”
    For some reason, that caused her a stab of anxiety right in the gut. Chris Mere kissing some bimbo? Touching her, whispering to her, caressing her?
    â€œâ€”be distracted.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou cannot be distracted. This is a trick. On top of everything else, he’s probably afraid to face you when you’re in your prime. So he showed up early and tried the de Mere charm. But it didn’t work. Right?”
    She said nothing.
    â€œRight?”
    â€œWhy do we always take people from behind?”
    Her father blinked. “What?”
    â€œI was taught to strike from the rear, every chance I could get. Even most of the practice mannequins are facing away from us. How come?”
    â€œBecause we need every advantage over a magicks user.”
    â€œMagic,” she corrected.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWell. Our family has a rep for cold-blooded murder—”
    â€œDefending the family and the town is not murder!”
    â€œâ€”we always hit from behind—”
    â€œBecause we cannot do magic!”
    â€œâ€”and we’ve been killing his family for centuries. Some of them a lot more helpless than Chris Mere.”
    â€œThat is our duty!” her father practically screamed, his bald spot turning purple with rage.
    â€œYou know what? I think we are the bad guys.”
    â€œRhea!” her parents howled in unison.
    â€œNo, really. We are. He came in peace—twice—and all you two can do is talk about how it’s some cruel trick. Because you’ll never trust a Mere.”
    â€œTrue enough,” her mother said.
    â€œBut I think I can.”
    â€œOh, Rhea.”
    â€œYou guys weren’t here. I was beating the shit out of him, and he took it. Not only did he not use magic on me, he