by Joy Preble
Ethan stays quiet while Mom and I banter back and forth. “You ready?” he asks eventually.
I nod, stand up, and brush a few stray pieces of grass off my jeans. We’re going on real date, Ethan and I. Lincoln Park Zoo. Pizza at Pequod’s. Maybe a walk on Oak Street Beach, although we both feel a little edgy about that. Last time we were at the beach, we both almost died. Correction: one of us did die, and I had to save his ass by making my bargain with Baba Yaga. Maybe we’ll just stop after the pizza.
Mom stands too. She smiles at Ethan. “Have fun,” she says. Then, “Call if you’re going to be late.” There’s just the slightest edge to her tone. This doesn’t surprise me. I’m dating a guy who’s on his second lifetime. She’s got due cause to be a little touchy about the whole thing. On the other hand, her boss, Mrs. Benson is still MIA—and possibly now a rusalka. Her birth mother’s a mermaid. Her daughter has magic powers. And she’s seen a witch named Baba Yaga. My relationship with Ethan probably gets lost in the shuffle of crazy.
“I want to start with the monkeys,” I tell Ethan as we settle ourselves in his car. “Then maybe the lions.”
“Penguins,” Ethan adds as he pulls out of my driveway. “And those meerkats. Do you like meerkats?”
“Who doesn’t?” I lean back in the passenger seat, happy to be making small talk with him here on our first official date that, as yet, doesn’t involve mortal peril. In the back of my mind, I know we’re just pretending at normal. Nothing’s settled yet in my world, not even in the romance department, since Ben continues to call me—how can I not talk to him when he almost died a couple weeks ago because of me?
My cell buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Tess.
Beware of Russian hotties. Have fun in the bear habitat.
I choose not to text her back. For now, I’ll play at normal.
Ethan reaches over and squeezes my hand. I entwine my fingers with his. The magic inside me still feels different when we’re together. Is that love? Or something I don’t yet understand? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
“Polar bears,” I say. “And otters. I love the otters.”
“Otters it is,” Ethan agrees.
We drive toward the city. Destiny can wait a while.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, it took a village—possibly two or three.
To Jen Rofe, for absolutely everything, but especially your cowgirl wisdom. Yeehaw!
To Dan “Mr. Tiger Beat” Ehrenhaft, for knowing I could do it and making sure I had the opportunity to prove it.
To the Sourcebooks team, especially Paul, who masterminded the Dreaming Anastasia blog tour that ate the world; Kelly, who leaped to my editorial rescue, and with whom I had many lively debates about the best Chicago pizza and hot dogs; Kristin and Matt for lively copyedit commentary—I have no earthly idea what I would do without you. I see many cupcakes in your future.
To Cathleen Elliott for hitting another fabulous cover out of the ball park! Your artistic vision inspires and awes.
To my dearest tribe of friends, colleagues, physicians, writers, editors, and assorted wandering minstrels who stuck by me when the trenches got a little, um, trenchier—I thank you with every molecule.
And to Rick and Jake—what can I say? Guess you’re stuck with me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joy Preble grew up in Chicago and moved to Texas where she learned to use the phrase “y’all” without any hint of irony and developed a passion for country music and barbecue. Joy has an English degree from Northwestern University, teaches high school students when she’s not busy writing, and is married to the guy she met her first week in college when she mistakenly served a volleyball into his stomach rather than over the net. Haunted, the sequel to Dreaming Anastasia, is her second novel. Visit her at www.joypreble.com.