Stormy Sky Magic (Familiar Kitten Mysteries Book 9)

him in more danger. “I love you,” he finished.
“I love you too,” I said. “Call me as soon as the storm passes.”
“I will.”
As soon as I was off the phone with Thorn, I called my mother. While I was waiting for her to pick up, I went to the kitchen junk drawer and retrieved an old flashlight. I pushed the little rubber button, and it clicked on.
“Thank you,” I said to the house. I had the light on my phone, but it was always good to have a backup.
“You’re welcome,” Mom said when she picked up the phone. “For what, dear?”
“Sorry, I was thanking the house for the flashlight,” I said. “It works.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You’re okay then?” Mom asked nervously.
“I am, but Thorn is telling me to get down into he basement. At first he said to do it when the sirens went off, but then he sounded all weird and told me to go now.”
“Did you listen?” she asked.
“Not yet. I wanted to call you first. This is all so surreal. Like, we should be able to do something about the storm, right? We should be able to dissipate it or reroute it through some unoccupied section of country, right?”
“Normally we would,” her voice sounded defeated. “We’ve tried, sweetie. We’ve been trying, but we haven’t been able to put a dent in it. Well, that’s not true. All of us together, we might have lessened the storm some. When it touches down, it might not level Coventry. That’s the best we could do considering…”
“I should join in,” I said. “I’ll go outside and focus every ounce of my power at the sky. We can have everyone in the coven and every friendly witch do the same. Can you put the word out?”
“Kinsley, sweetie, do what Thorn said and go to the basement. We’re all going. Take Meri, Tangerine, and some couch cushions to cover your head. Do it now. I’ll call you when it’s over.”
“Okay,” I said. “Can you stay on the phone with me?” I suddenly felt small and alone.
“I would, baby, but you need to get the animals and those cushions. Do it fast.” There was a panic I’d never heard before rising in her voice. I realized that for the first time in my entire life, my Mom was so scared she couldn’t pretend for me anymore. In turn, icy panic gripped my chest. “Go, baby. I love you. Dad loves you.”
I wanted to argue, but I was afraid that I’d be putting myself, the baby, and my parents in danger. Not to mention Meri and Tangerine who were counting on me to do the right thing. “Love you too, Mom. I’ll text you as soon as we’re camped out in the basement.”
I slipped the phone into my pocket and set the flashlight down on the kitchen table. When I did, I glanced out the window and saw the clouds. It looked like they were boiling. The wind was so strong, it was bowing the trees over, and tons of limbs were snapping off and flying everywhere.
After snatching the cushions off the sofa, I waddled back into the kitchen, opened the basement door, and chucked them down the stairs. “Meri, get down there,” I said. “Go now while I grab Tangerine.”
I half expected him to argue with me, but Meri just nodded and darted down the steps. Tangerine was huddled under the kitchen table. I could only imagine that her little doggie storm radar was going nuts. Animals could sense those things long before humans even knew there was a problem.
When I picked up Tangerine, I risked one more glance out the kitchen window. It may have just been my imagination, but I could swear that a few miles off in the distance, I could see something reaching down from the sky. It looked like a dark, gray-blue wedge, and while it didn’t seem that dangerous from so far away, my brain knew that something wasn’t quite right about what I’d seen.
I held Tangerine tighter, and practically ran down the basement stairs.

Thorn
There was no longer a question that the creek was going to completely cover the road. I was stationed there to make sure it didn’t wash anyone away, and I felt fortunate that while I could watch the storm’s progression, I wasn’t stationed in the path. They’d left that to more experienced members of the county sheriff’s office who were also trained storm spotters and veteran storm chasers.
I’d been through the official storm spotter training, but I’d never had any desire to chase them. Of course, now that it was happening, the feeling of being chased by the storms was far worse. It was far better to be the one doing the hunting than to be sitting there waiting to potentially be hunted.
I hadn’t seen anyone on the road for a while. A few cars had gone over the bridge and into Coventry when I still felt like it was safe. That had been nearly an hour before. I’d turned away two more cars that I didn’t think would make it. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for people’s cars being swept away by the creek that had turned into a raging river. No one would drown on my watch.
In fact, I’d already gotten in my cruiser and moved it back away from the swift water a couple of times. As I was getting ready to get in and move it again, a truck approached.
The driver was a man in his late thirties. He was a big guy in a red and black flannel shirt. He had a full beard, but it was well-maintained. His skin was bronzed from working outside. I was sure that if I checked, I’d find a rifle or a shotgun behind the man's seats, but I wasn’t going to check. His demeanor told me he meant me no harm, and while the guy obviously never shied away from a day of hard