“Come.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the small table near the kitchen. “Sit and have some tea. Get your bearings.”
She nodded and sat, looking around with confusion. “This isn’t your normal place.”
“It’s long gone. We’re not even really in London anymore.”
“Not in London?” She jumped up from the chair and went to the window, staggering slightly. I raced after her, wanting to stop her, to force her to sit and recover, but I couldn’t imagine how confused she was. If she wanted to see it for herself, I wouldn’t stop her.
And hell, she’d survived death. She’d surely survive a little stumble in my living room. She pushed the window open further, and I realized she was wearing the same clothes she’d died in. The T-shirt had a slogan on the back from a bar we liked: “For a good time, go to Sal’s.”
Sal’s had not been a particularly good time, but we’d both been broke and appreciated a free T-shirt.
She leaned out and looked around. “Holy crap. It’s like we’ve gone back in time.”
I joined her and looked out at the steeply peeked roofs, wooden beams, white plaster, and mullioned windows. “Yep. You don’t remember it at all?”
She squinted, looking hard at the roofs and clouds. “I do, actually. But mostly from above. I was…a bird? Flying through this city?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“How is that possible?”
“So you didn’t know that magic existed? That you would turn into a bird when you died?” Where the hell did I even start with the questions?
She shook her head. “Magic? As in pulling rabbits out of hats?”
“Not exactly.” So Beatrix hadn’t been a secret supernatural all along. Not that I’d really thought about it, but how had she turned into a bird? And why was she back?
I brought her back.
The thought flared in my mind. I’d been so excited about her return—about her survival—that I’d forgotten I’d used the book and my magic to bring her back.
I’d defied death.
Somehow.
I ran to the couch and picked up the book, flipping through the pages. It was undamaged, thank fates, but I still couldn’t read the strange writing. I looked up at Beatrix, who had turned to face me.
“I think I could use that tea now, thanks.” She gave a wan smile.
I snapped the book shut. “Coming right up.”
My mind raced as I hurried to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then returned to the living room. Beatrix stood near the door, her eyes glued to Cordelia, who had just walked in.
“There’s a wild animal in your house,” Beatrix said.
Who’s she calling wild?
“Calm down, Cordelia. She’s new here.” I glanced at Beatrix, who looked between the raccoon and me with wide eyes.
“Cordelia?” Beatrix asked.
“That’s her name. She arrived at our block of flats shortly after your…death.”
Death? Cordelia looked at me with interest.
I so did not have the time or ability to explain things to both of them. Especially since I barely understood what was going on.
“Cordelia, you can have any snack you want if you’ll give us a few moments to talk.” I looked at Beatrix. “And we’re going to get to the bottom of this.” I walked to her and gripped her hand. “But I am so happy you are here.”