Then that world crashed down. She’d lost her father and her mother within hours of each other, her brother, her husband, and all of his family, too. In the weeks that followed, alone, grieving, terrified, she’d fought to survive for the lives inside her.

She’d come to believe she’d survived because of the lives inside her.

Now she walked along the sidewalk of a community built by survivors and based on hope. Smoke curled from chimneys into a sky of hard, clear winter blue. She saw no sign of a coming storm, but didn’t doubt the twins’ forecast.

If Tonia handed her an umbrella on a sunny day, Katie took it.

She walked toward the town center, past the house where her former roommate, the town doctor and Hannah’s mentor, lived with her husband—Katie’s hero—and their kids.

And there was the house where Arlys and Will lived with their family.

Lana and Max had lived there once, she remembered, with Poe and Kim and Eddie in the attached apartments.

Now Poe and Kim had a house a block off Main, two kids of their own. And the odd, sweet couple of Eddie and Fred had their little farm on the very edge of New Hope’s boundaries.

And Fred, the cheerful, indefatigable faerie, was expecting her fourth child.

Did Fred worry when Eddie went off as he did today, to scout? Raiders still cruised, Purity Warriors hunted, hard-line factions still cast nets. So much to worry about outside New Hope. And not little to cause concern within.

It looked calm, peaceful, like a small town might in any history book. She saw the open sign on Bygones, the supply shop Bill Anderson ran; the closed sign was still posted on Cut, Color, and Curl, the tiny barber and beauty shop created and operated by a beautician, a barber, and a witch.

The sandwich shop, converted to the community’s police station. The chief of police, Bill Anderson’s son, Will, would be leading the morning’s hunting party. Deputies included a former cop, a shapeshifter, and an elf.

Part-time work for the elf, as Aaron also worked as an instructor at the academy.

A balance, she thought. That was part of the plan, an essential element of the blueprint drafted years before in the living room of her home. A mix of the magickal and non in all aspects, creating a sense of unity.

Most often it worked.

In fourteen years only five people had ever been sentenced to the community’s ultimate punishment. Banishment.

She’d served on the panel for two of the five, and prayed with all she had she’d never be called to do so again.

She paused to watch the dash of a fox, a slinky streak of red through the snow. Then she crossed the quiet street to the old building—once a house, once a real-estate company, and now town hall.

She let herself in, switched on a single light. Power conservation remained a town ordinance.

The mayor went to her office, one she’d chosen for its window overlooking Main Street, sat at her desk, opened her briefcase. And got to work.

Within the hour the town planner arrived with her agenda, and the town clerk with his.

She had reports to read on the converted laptop their head of IT and communications had built for her. Without Chuck, they’d likely need town criers. Or smoke signals.

Supply requests, submitted by various community entities. The schools, the kitchen, the gardens, the clinics.

Refuse reports, power reports—and requests to expand power to areas outside the current grid.

The school and former furniture store—kindergarten through high school—needed more updating and, as always, more supplies. Fifty-eight kids currently attended, she mused, but there would be more.

The town council would meet, discuss, debate, and, she determined, find a way.

The town planner, an energetic woman of seventy, rapped knuckles on Katie’s open door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure. What do you need, Marlene?”

“It’s what we all need. A good cup of coffee and chocolate.”

“Marlene, why do you torture me?”

With a quick, cackling laugh, Marlene walked in on her scarred Timberland boots and sat in one of the wingback chairs Will and Jonah had hauled in for her when she’d taken the office.

“Here’s the deal. Fred, Selina, Kevin, and some of the others think they can do it this time. They think they know what went wrong before.”

Katie had heard this song before. “Attempting to create a tropical climate within a designated space inside a mid-Atlantic climate—what could go wrong? Oh, yeah.” Katie tapped a finger to her temple as if just remembering. “Several tornadoes.”

“Really small ones,” Marlene said with a smile. “And minimal damage.”

“We lost six trees.”

“More firewood.”

“One of them fell on Holden Masterson’s garage and started a fire.”

“A really tiny fire, which Kevin put out right away. And Holden didn’t need that garage. They’ve worked out the kinks in the spell.”

Katie stared up at the ceiling. “Kinks.”

“Honey, I don’t know any more about spells and all that than you do, but Fred’s pretty high on the idea.”

“Fred’s pregnant and hormonal and wants chocolate.”

“That may be. I’m not pregnant and hormones haven’t been my problem for a long time. I want some damn chocolate. More than that. Lemons, oranges, bananas—and not the little guys they’re growing in the greenhouse. Sugarcane. Pepper—more than we’ve managed from what the group brought in from down south. Medication,” Marlene continued, ticking off items on her fingers. “Our herbalists and holistic groups are all for it.”

Kim chaired the holistic group, and no one was more sensible to Katie’s mind. But still. Tornadoes.

“And, Katie, Fred says if they can do this, they can do other climates. We could find a way to mine salt so instead of having to send people farther and farther out to scavenge for those basic needs, we’d generate our own.”

The salt stung. Salt had been a top priority on the scavenge list when Austin had died.

But as mayor she had to put that aside, handle the right now.

“I’ll take it up with the town council. I will, but I can tell you that Fred and her group are going to have to come in and make the case. Make a strong case.”

“I’ll let them know. And I should let you know they think they have a secret weapon. The twins.”

“My kids?”

“ ‘Power boosters,’ Fred said. She thinks they have enough, but she claims with Duncan and Tonia, they’ll have a better shot at making it work.”

“Has she said anything to them?”

“Katie, you know she wouldn’t without talking to you. She’s a mom, too.”

“Okay, all right.” Katie pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I need to process, and I need to talk to the council. Then we’ll talk to Fred and her group of climate wizards. God.”

“You wanted the job, Mayor.”

“Did I?” Katie gave the ceiling another wistful look. “I can’t imagine why.”

“How about I have LeRoy zap you up some of his energy tea? It ain’t a good cup of joe, but—Hey there, Arlys.”

“Hi, Marlene. Would LeRoy have enough for two cups of that tea?”

“Don’t see why not.” She pushed to her feet. “Have a chair.”

“I will, thanks. Got time for me?” Arlys asked Katie.

“Which hat are you wearing?”

Arlys smiled. “All of them.”

“It’s a shame because your hair looks fabulous.”

“Carlotta’s a genius.” Arlys gave her short, sleek brown bob—with subtle highlights of bronze—a fluff. “Plus, Fred popped in while I was in there.”

Now Katie sighed. “So you know about Project Tropics.”

“I do, and I won’t report anything on it. Yet.”

“Appreciated.” She paused as Marlene came back with two steaming mugs. “And ditto, Marlene.”

“Happy to serve. Want the door closed?”

“Do we?” Katie asked Arlys.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“No problem.” Marlene went out, shut the door.