“What’s up?”

  I rooted around in my purse, searching for the reason I’d come. “Okay, so, I found this amulet, and, um, I was wondering if you could tell me... I don’t know... maybe what it was for?”

  Wanda’s dark brows went winging towards her hairline when I handed her the clay charm, and she frowned as she turned it over in her hands. “You found it?” she asked as she looked up at me, her eyebrows knitting together. “Where did you find it?”

  “That’s kind of a strange story.” One that involved me maybe taking evidence from a crime scene. I chewed my lip, thinking about how much I wanted to admit. “Does the location matter that much? It was hidden.”

  She thought about that for a few seconds before giving another negligent shrug. “Hmm... hidden.” After a few minutes of examination, Wanda ran her fingertips over the symbols etched into the clay.

  “Do you know what it is?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I waited a few seconds, but when she said nothing more, I continued. “Can you tell me what it is?”

  “It’s meant to ward off curses.”

  Okay, well, I was really confused now. Why hide something like that? And why hide it in such a random place?

  Imani stopped working on Olga’s hair and the two witches walked over to Wanda, each of them studying the amulet with interest.

  “It’s got some interesting bits of spell work twisted up here,” Wanda said—more to them than to me. Her dark eyes shone as she turned the clay pendant over like other people might admire a diamond, watching the light sparkle through it. “There’s also power from the grave bound up in it and the magic... hmm, it feels familiar somehow.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “That the person who made it was a Blood Witch,” Betanya answered as she appeared from the hallway and walked over to our little group. I gave her a quick smile and an even quicker ‘hello’ before returning my attention to the amulet again.

  “A Blood Witch?” I repeated. “Aren’t those rare? The only Blood Witch I know of are you two,” I continued, tentatively. I really didn’t know much about magic, other than what I’d picked up here and there, listening to people.

  “Very rare,” Wanda said, her voice short. Wanda’s Blood Witch status had gotten her kicked out of her coven and forced her to come to Haven Hollow, so I understood this might be a bit of a touchy subject.

  Betanya was an older witch, her long red hair streaked with gray, but other than a few lines at the corners of her eyes, and a few bracketing her mouth, you’d have never known she was a couple centuries old. At least, I was pretty sure she was. She hadn’t been in this world for all of them, though.

  Let me back up.

  Betanya had been kicked out of her own coven however many decades ago when a vampire tried to turn her, and she ended up a Blood Witch herself. She moved away to Haven Hollow, thinking that would keep the vampire from following her while she tried to figure out how to undo his hold. The vampire had followed her and she’d found herself under siege in the town.

  I didn’t completely understand what had happened next, but from what I’d pieced together from cocktail night gossip, Betanya had made a kind of pocket universe, one that ended up trapping her and the vampire, Roscoe, in a place that wasn’t actually a real place. It was a spot outside of time. And then Wanda and Poppy had come across it, and now Roscoe was gone, and the coven had a new member. Well, that was the short of it, anyway.

  I gave Betanya a quick smile and turned back to where Wanda was offering me the amulet back.

  “Okay, thank you. Um, while I’ve got you all here, is there anything magical about this?” I fished the old watch out of my bag and offered it to Wanda.

  Wanda’s brows snapped down as she took the watch, turning it over and over in her hands. She even opened the front, looking over the inscription inside. “What the spell? Where did you even get this?”

  “I believe it came from a cemetery.”

  Wanda nodded. “I can feel the pull of the graveyard on it—that’s why I asked.”

  “What have you got there?” Betanya asked, but her attention wasn’t on the watch—it was on the clay amulet in my hands. She plucked the amulet from my fingers and looked at it in shock. “I never thought I’d see this again.”

  Wanda’s brows rose. “You know it?” It was a question, but she didn’t actually sound very surprised. More like Wanda had just confirmed something she was already thinking.

  “I made it,” Betanya corrected her.

  All I could do was stare at her. “You made it? When and how?”

  “Oh, it was a long time ago. When I’d first come to the Hollow.” Betanya rubbed her thumb idly over the marks etched into the clay. “But I recognize my magical imprint on it—it’s still there.”

  “I recognized it too,” Wanda said with a nod. “I thought the magical signature felt familiar.”

  “So, what is it?” I asked.

  “Well, there was a man whose bloodline had become cursed and so he came to me, looking for a solution,” Betanya started as she narrowed her eyes, as if she were trying to remember the particulars.

  “Cursed?” I repeated. “What sort of curse?”

  Betanya nodded. “I believe they had been cursed to become ghouls.”

  .

  .Chapter Ten

  “Ghouls?” I looked between them. “What’s a ghoul?”

  “They are undead monsters. Much like vampires,” Betanya said, her lips thin.

  “Not like vampires.” Wanda shook her head before turning to face me. “Ghouls are kind of a gray area between life and death. They don’t age or grow once someone turns into one—sort of like a zombie in that respect.”

  “Repulsive creatures,” Olga said, shaking her head in obvious disgust.

  “Yes,” Wanda nodded. “And they can spread disease. They also eat corpses, and from what I understand, they aren’t too picky about how they get their meat, or what kind it is they’re eating.”

  A sour taste filled my mouth, and I made a face. “That’s horrible.” I faced Betanya again. “And the guy you charmed this for... he was turning into a ghoul?”

  Betanya nodded, still looking at the amulet. “He’d already started his transformation when he came to me. He was desperate to keep from becoming a monster. So, I made this amulet as a kind of lock on his bloodline curse.”

  “The amulet protected him then?” I asked.

  She nodded again. “The curse was too powerful for me to unpick entirely, but so long as he wore this amulet, the curse wouldn’t take hold. Not on him, nor on any of his descendants yet to come.”

  Betanya blinked, like she was waking up from a dream. She offered me the amulet back, and I took it, still shocked by the importance of the talisman. It was meant to ward off a curse... so how in the world had it ended up in Mrs. Petryka’s wall?

  “He wore it religiously, until he died,” Betanya continued. “I was under the impression he’d been buried with it—I’d instructed him to include such directions in his will, anyway.”

  I felt queasy, and I had to swallow twice as I debated whether I should tell them the whole story.

  “What about this? Have you seen it before?” Wanda held up the watch.

  Betanya frowned, smoothing out the dark fabric of her dress. “No. But…” She reached out and took the watch, running the pad of her thumb over the glass face. “It’s been touched by your power. So has the amulet, for that matter.”

  “That’s what I was sensing, too,” Wanda said, grimly.

  “Wait, what?” I looked between them, suddenly lost in the conversation. “They both have Wanda’s magic on them?” How was that even possible, especially if she’d never seen them before?

  Wanda fixed me with a look that was all High Witch of a coven, and not the Wanda I’d gotten tipsy with on a number of occasions. “Fifi, where did you get these things? You said they came from a graveyard, but I need to know which one.”

  “Well...”

  “The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” Wanda said, her left eyebrow reaching for the ceiling. “So help you goddess.”

  I swallowed hard and then nodded, figuring it was time I let the cat out of the bag. “I found them both from two of the properties I’m representing,” I hedged. “They were hidden in weird, out of the way places. But…” Hmm... how was I going to put this? “I think each one was placed there after being stolen from some local graves from the cemetery in between Poppy’s house and your townhouse, Wanda.”

  There was a beat of silence, and I cringed.

  “Oh.” Betanya said, as mild as ever. “Well, that explains it, then.”

  Out of all the reactions I’d imagined, that hadn’t been one I’d been expecting. “It does?”

  Wanda rolled her eyes, but I could have sworn there was a little tinge of pink high up on her cheekbones. But that wasn’t possible, because I was pretty sure that Wanda had had her sense of shame surgically removed, so it was probably just a trick of the fire light.

  She dangled the pocked watch from one finger, bouncing it in the air. It cast little golden shadows onto the pretty rug.

  “When I first came to Haven Hollow, I sent my magic out into the land. It’s a quick way to make sure other witches know that the area is claimed, and to keep their hands to themselves.”

  I was lost. “What does that have to do with–”

  “Listen and I’ll tell you,” Wanda snapped. The pink had spread most of the way down her cheeks.

  “Sorry,” I said, glancing down as I felt like a child who’d just been scolded.

  The toe of Wanda’s shoe started tapping an agitated rhythm against the carpet. “Anyway. A Blood Witch’s magic is intrinsically tied to the dead, thanks to the bumbling, idiotic vampires that infected them with their blood. So, of course, the graveyard in the backyard of my townhouse would have the closest connection to me, and be full of my power.”

  “Okay,” I started, and then frowned. “I still don’t get why the thief hid each item in empty properties, though. Why not just get a safe?”

  “Oh!” Olga clapped her hands. “I zink I know. Zieves hide caches in empty places, so zey are not caught wiz zee items on zem, and if zee items are found, no one can link zee items to zee zief!”

  Her accent was so thick, that it took me a moment to figure out what she’d said, and then I blinked in surprise, because it made sense.

  “How the spell did you come up with that?” Wanda demanded.

  Olga primly folded her hands on her lap, looking innocent. “I had a life before I came to your coven, ja?”

  There was nothing to say to that, so I just shook my head. “But then why do both objects feel so… I don’t know... Angry? They just have this hum of electricity emanating out of both of them.”

  Betanya and Wanda exchanged a look.

  “I’m surprised you picked up on that.” On someone else, it might have been a put down, but Betanya made it sound like mild curiosity. “Wanda claimed the graveyard, and by doing so, her power seeped into the ground and the bones resting there, including whatever items were buried with those bones.”

  I looked at the watch and the talisman. “Items like these?”

  Betanya nodded. “Items like those items. Once they’re claimed in such a way, the items almost carry their own understanding—they know they’re steeped in death, that they belong to the grave. And they wish to be returned to their place, hence why they’re buzzing.”

  All the hair on the back of my neck prickled, standing on end. The idea that objects could desire things, could want to return to the earth where they’d been laid to rest, it creeped me out as not much else did.

  But it did explain why I’d sensed the watch and amulet from their hiding spots. I might not be a witch, but I was a demon and that meant I was sensitive to energies, even some that weren’t tied to lust. I must have picked up on the latent death energy that each object had put off.

  “Okay.” I shook the feeling off. “Okay. So, wait, you said the curse didn’t take hold on the rest of this guy’s bloodline because he had the amulet you made for him, right? Because he was buried with it?”

  Betanya nodded.

  “This amulet?” I held it up, the clay charm slowly spinning on its brittle leather tie. “This one in my hand, which is clearly no longer buried with the guy.”

  Wanda rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, we know what you’re getting at, Fifi, jeez.”

  “Sorry.”

  Betanya shook her head as she looked at me. “Now that the amulet has been removed from the man’s body and is no longer in contact with him, it’s likely that anyone from the man’s bloodline might be starting to feel the effects of the curse.”

  “Then the curse would be activated again?”

  “I believe it would be,” Betanya answered with a clipped nod.

  “Then how do you reverse the curse? Return the amulet to the grave?”

  Betanya shook her head. “Now that the talisman was removed and the man is no longer living, the next of kin would need his own amulet created to ward away the curse.”

  “Then burying the amulet with the body wouldn’t do anything?”

  Betanya shook her head. “Once it’s separated from the body, then it stops working.”

  I grimaced at the thought.

  “It’s possible the man in question simply has no family remaining,” Betanya pointed out. “I don’t recall if he ever got married or had any children.”

  “That feels like something that should be looked into, at least,” I said, much preferring the job of research to the job of unearthing a body.

  Both witches gave me pretty pointed looks.

  I sighed. “Yes, I get it. The Council will look into it.”

  I didn’t point out that Wanda was also on the Council, as I didn’t really feel like ending up hexed myself. She was still sitting in her cushy chair with the air of a settled cat who wouldn’t be budged by man nor god. And definitely not by reluctant demoness.

  I wasn’t exactly looking forward to a night of combing through ancestry records, and internet stalking. Heaven help me if anyone involved had changed his or her last names.

  “You wouldn’t happen to remember the man’s name, would you?” I asked Betanya, mentally crossing my fingers.

  Betanya motioned for the amulet again and then, holding it in her palm, closed her eyes. She tapped one finger to her bottom lip, then opened her eyes and proceeded to gaze at the fire in the grate as though it might hold the answers for her. Finally, she made a little sound in her throat and nodded.

  “Ah yes,” she said. “Novik. His name was Novik.”

  ***

  Okay.

  So, the man with the bloodline curse that could possibly turn him into one of the corpse-devouring undead, also happened to be the great-grandfather of one of my clients. That was just a coincidence, right? I mean, Donovan was clearly not a ghoul, so maybe the curse really had been stoppered by Betanya’s amulet? Maybe it hadn’t been triggered into later members of Antoine’s family.

  And I was sure it was also a coincidence that the person I’d possibly unfairly, but strongly suspected, was a grave robber, just happened to be found murdered on top of said would-be ghoul’s grave.

  I let my head drop down onto the cool surface of my kitchen table, narrowly avoiding the cup of coffee sitting there.

  Why would someone go to so much trouble to restart the Novik family curse? The being who laid the curse on them in the first place, or a rival, or maybe a bitter ex? Or was it really just dumb luck that a thief saw the thing and decided it was worth stealing?

  I groaned against the table, my cheek mushed to one side. The better question now was: what the heck was I going to do about it?

  The way I saw it, my best option at the moment was to grab a shovel and try to put the amulet back into the grave myself with the hopes that it would just start working again, to hell with what Betanya had said. But that just wasn’t going to happen. Not just because the idea of it gave me the heebie-jeebies, but because I was positive that I’d never be able to pull off something stealthy. I’d get spotted in the graveyard in an instant, and since all those grave robberies still hadn’t actually been solved, it wouldn’t be a good look. And there was always the chance that Betanya was right and the thing was no longer powerful, so what would be the point in going to all that trouble?

  And frankly, the only thing I could imagine that was worse than digging up someone’s final resting place, was having to explain things to Taliyah when I inevitably got caught. Not telling her my suspicions, not handing over what might turn out to be evidence, poking into things when she pretty much told me not to.

  Yeah. No. Hard pass.

  How did I get myself into these messes?

  I thumped my head gently against the table, and strongly considered going to grab the bottle of cinnamon rum I had in the cupboard. A few cocktails wouldn’t make anything better, but they also probably wouldn’t make anything worse.

  But I didn’t make any motion to stand up. Instead, I sat back, staring at the ceiling while my forehead throbbed. Thank hell that Angelo was out of town. I didn’t need him walking in on me at the moment. Whether he decided to help or to mock, his presence would just make everything worse and a whole lot more complicated.

  I rolled my lower lip between my teeth as I thought about what I should do next. I could just give the amulet to Donovan with the instructions that he needed to get it powerfully attuned to him or maybe just get a new one altogether. That would keep the curse from setting in, I was pretty sure. But that opened up a whole new set of problems. And the most likely scenario would be him politely humoring me, and then throwing the old, stained, mouldering bit of clay into the nearest garbage can, and then what the heck would I do? And there was the biggest problem of all: I couldn’t explain anything to Donovan, because he was human.

  Part of my job on the Council was to keep all the supernatural business away from the mundanes. The Council was meant to protect our community, their privacy and their physical safety. We didn’t run across them much, but Hunters still existed in the world, and not all of them worried about whether the supernatural they were hunting was dangerous or just living his or her best life.