Without a word, she turned the dial to the Americana station I favored, apparently believing Alison Krauss would be more soothing than the Sex Pistols. I tried to lose myself in the bluegrass, letting the fiddles wrap themselves around my agitated mind. Genuine peace might elude me, but I needed to find some approximation of that emotion. I closed my eyes and focused all my attention on the sound of a bow sliding across strings, blocking out thoughts of my mother, Mac, and my own actions at Diane’s house. There would be a price to pay. I knew that. I could already feel something within me shifting, the various parts of my magic repositioning themselves. Whatever I’d started, it wasn’t over—but it wasn’t time to face that. Not yet. As we neared Truckee, Sera turned to me, face stoic and voice quiet. “Where are we going?” I heard the question underneath. The shifters, including Mac, needed us to visit Dana first.
