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Although she hadn’t inherited her mother’s talent for prognostication, Evangeline always tried to listen to her instincts. One never knew when a feeling might really be a premonition .
    She should renew her protections on this house .
    All the symbols she needed for home protection were stocked in the kitchen: salt, basil, fennel, dill weed, bay leaves, and olive oil to bind them together. Once she had the elements gathered in a porcelain bowl, she closed her eyes and rubbed the herbs between her fingertips .
    â€œNo harm shall enter here.”
    She repeated the command over and over, building the potential until she was breathless and gasping. Her eyes flew open, and she looked down at her work. Her ancestors would have ground this mixture into paste with a mortar and pestle. But Mrs. Unger had a Cuisinart, and thanks to Red, Evangeline had electricity .
    Minutes later, she was marking every entrance to the house—window and door—with a thin line of paste. “No harm shall enter here.” It wasn’t a perfect form of protection, but it was the best shecould do without making a permanent alteration to the house that would frighten Mrs. Unger and attract unwanted attention. Putting the library card out to request new books was one thing. Painting magical symbols on the walls was a different matter entirely .
    She had just finished and was heading for the kitchen to clean up when she heard footsteps on the porch. Evangeline threw herself into the corner of the hallway where she could see the front door, but not be seen from it .
    New Boy was at the door. He was a couple of years younger than Evangeline, with an unruly mop of dark brown hair. He knocked tentatively and peered through the glass .
    Evangeline pressed against the wall .
    The mail flap clicked open, and a folded piece of paper flew into the house, sailing in a graceful arc before landing on the floor .
    Evangeline looked at the bowl in her hands. “Some protection.”

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    HarperCollins Publishers
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6
    RILEY HAD TWO RULES regarding the girl next door. “Number one, don’t tell anyone about her.”
    â€œOf course not.” Jax stared up at the window.
    â€œNumber two, leave her alone.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œLeave her alone.”
    â€œWhat if—”
    â€œWhat’s rule number two, Jax?” Riley growled.
    â€œWhy’d you point her out to me, then?”
    â€œYou’d wonder why I was hooking up a generator to Mrs. Unger’s house. And I wanted her to know she shouldn’t be afraid of you.”
    â€œWhy would she be afraid of me? I just want to meet her.”
    â€œShe doesn’t want to meet you.” Riley flipped the switches in Mrs. Unger’s electric box. “I’ve lived here for years, and she’s never spoken to me.”
    Jax’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s never talked to you, but you’re giving her electricity?”
    â€œIt’s a courtesy. And sometimes, when she feels like it, I get a courtesy thank you. You’ll see.” Riley motioned him over. “C’mere, and I’ll show you how to do this. That way, if I ever have to be gone on a Grunsday again, you can hook up both houses.”
    Riley talked him through the procedure, and they started up the second generator. “They’re quieter than I expected,” Jax commented.
    â€œI paid extra to get the quietest on the market. Didn’t want to attract attention.”
    Jax looked around. “Who would hear it?”
    Riley didn’t answer. “The gas stove works, and we’ve got public water, so that works. But the only way to have electricity on Grunsday is to supply your own. The power companies are run by computers, and anything with a computer chip is dead today.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause processing chips measure time, but