“Off limits?” Wanda repeated. “Why?”

  “The potions are a little more… difficult to make, for lack of a better description. They tend to be full of hard to find ingredients or, in some cases, unstable ingredients. Anyway, I’ve always been a little… wary about them.”

  “You still haven’t told us which one you’re making or why,” Fifi cut in again.

  “Well, why don’t you come into the kitchen with me and find out, if you’re really that interested?” I headed back to the kitchen. To my surprise, they all followed.

  They gathered around the counter, all looking at me like baby birds looking up at their mother. Wanda sat down on her stool and pulled out her notebook again. She wasn’t going to let this naming idea of hers go.

  “What about ‘The Tipsy Trot’?”

  “No!” chorused five voices in unison.

  Wanda read from her page again. “‘The Old Bag Blotto’?”

  “Old bag? Really?” I asked, frowning. “Each name gets worse.”

  “What about the ‘Dizzy Dames’?” Darla asked.

  I cocked my head and thought about it. “You know, that one isn’t so bad.”

  “Hey!” Wanda glared at me, snapping her notebook shut. “You reject all my ideas, but you go with the first one she mentions?”

  Darla shrugged. “Clearly, I’m better at this than you are, dollface.”

  “If you’ll allow me to offer my strictly professional opinion,” Hellcat drawled from next to Wanda’s glass.

  “No one cares,” Wanda cut in.

  “I mean… Wanda’s not wrong,” Bailey added with a shrug, and Hellcat shut right up.

  “I veto ‘The Dizzy Dames’,” Wanda said. “And all of us have to agree on the title.”

  “You’re only vetoing it because someone else came up with it,” Bailey argued.

  Wanda ignored her. “‘Mixed Drink Midlife’.”

  “No!”

  “‘The Sauced Sorceresses’?”

  Laughter answered her, and I turned back to my experimental potion.

  Chapter Three

  After turning on one of the stove burners, I stirred the crumbled cinnamon stick into the copper pan along with the other ingredients for my experimental potion. I had to add exactly the right amounts or the whole thing would go kaput in a very loud, messy sort of way.

  Without warning, Libby bumped into me, trying to wedge herself in front of the oven again. “Excuse me, darlin’. This is the last batch of cookies and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  I forced myself to draw a shaky sigh and steady my hand. It wasn’t her fault she was trying to out-domestic Donna Reed. It also wasn’t her fault I was on edge from tinkering with forces beyond my comprehension.

  A crash startled all of us. I looked behind to see Fifi staggering away from the bar. She fell into another stool and toppled it before Bailey caught her arm and steadied her.

  “Take it easy, babe,” Wanda said. “You’re three sheets to the wind.”

  “She can’t be,” Bailey countered. “Succubuses are practically immune to alcohol.”

  “The word,” Hellcat sniffed, “is succubae.”

  “What?” Bailey asked, frowning.

  “The plural of ‘succubus’ is ‘succubae’. It is Latin,” Hellcat continued. “If you cretins received any passable education in this backwater excuse for a town, you would already know that.”

  “Does it really matter what you call her?” Bailey replied with a shrug. “Fifi isn’t human, so her system treats alcohol the same as any other harmless substance—like it’s water.”

  “Apparently not,” Hellcat grumbled, going back to licking his paws. “The succubus appears to have finally found her limit.”

  “How much did she actually drink?” I asked, turning to look at Fifi with concern.

  Bailey steered Fifi onto a chair at the kitchen table and then peered behind the bar. “Well, there were seven bottles here to start with and now we’re down to two.”

  “Two—two bottles!” Wanda cried. Her shock seemed more focused on the fact that our rations had been so nearly wiped out, rather than concern over Fifi’s wellbeing.

  “That’s impossible,” I said.

  Wanda groaned and cradled her forehead in her hand. “What are the rest of us going to drink now?”

  “Might I suggest you join the ranks of those refraining from future imbibement?” the cat sniped.

  “And why would I want to do that?” Wanda snapped.

  “Oh… I don’t know… perhaps because you are an adult and, thus, should someday start acting like one.”

  “Who invited him?” Wanda called out.

  There was a chorus of “I didn’t” that sang throughout the house.

  Hellcat didn’t seem to notice. “I believe you should accept your given charge of driving this motley crew to their respective homes, and us back to that dingy hovel we call home.”

  “We just got started!” Bailey hiccupped.

  Hellcat didn’t pay her any attention, and kept his fierce green eyes narrowed on Wanda. “If you enjoy throwing your own life away, at least consider what my coat would look like after I am summarily thrown through the windshield.”

  “It might be an improvement.” Wanda bowed over her notebook again. “And, besides, it’s not like we have to go far. We live across the graveyard.”

  “You were the one who chose to drive,” Hellcat pointed out

  “I didn’t want to get my shoes dirty by walking,” Wanda answered.

  In over two hours of continuous drink and debate, we still hadn’t come up with a title for our little group that everyone could agree on—not that you heard me complaining. I was happy with, “How about we get together at my place on Friday night?”

  “If I dared to hope that repeated doses of highly concentrated toxic concoctions would improve your mental faculties,” Hellcat went on, “I would not scruple at you drinking day and night. Under the circumstances, however, I can personally attest to the fact that that (and he pointed to her Martini) particular libation produces a marked decrease in your penetrative acumen. Consider that the next time you infuse your bloodstream with a known contaminant and neuron suppressant.”

  “Was that English?” Darla asked as she looked at Libby, who just shrugged.

  Hellcat, meanwhile, stalked off, flicking his tail in annoyance, and left Wanda stewing over her notebook. I honestly didn’t think she’d heard a word he said, and if she did, she might not have understood him either. I was fairly sober and his words were still floating above my head, completely out of grasp.

  He picked his way between bottles, jars, and tubes. I saw him inching towards my drink, but I couldn’t stop him because I had my hands full measuring ingredients. I did manage to keep my eye on him while I checked and double-checked the recipe in the book.

  Next thing I knew, I looked up to find Hellcat sticking his nose into the mason jars lined on the counter. I swatted at him. “Go! Shoo!”

  He reared back with a hateful hiss. Just then, the potion started to foam. This was a critical step in the process, and I had to take the concoction off the fire immediately before it boiled over and all my hard work was for naught. I snatched the pan off the burner and set it aside to cool.

  Now I had to mix the second part of the potion. Once I finished that step and the combination in the copper pot had cooled, I would add them together to make the final product.

  I measured a cup of turpentine and started counting drops of Nigella extract. I checked the book whenever I wasn’t sure about what to do next until, finally, after a good ten minutes of intense and steady work, the mixture turned a faint pink the way it was supposed to.

  I took the concoction back to the counter where I’d left the first part. Grabbing a clean mason jar to mix the two together, I watched as Hellcat jumped up beside me, clearly going for my drink again. In response, I accidentally bumped the pot of potion against my cocktail glass which then spilled into my Mai Tai, the liquids mixing and turning a dark brown color as a puff of smoke sailed up from the glass. I didn’t have time to be disappointed, angry or anything in between because it was at that exact moment that Hellcat leaned over and, gripping the straw between his teeth, sucked up the now tainted drink.

  “Hellcat, no!” I yelled and tried to knock the concoction away from him but I was too late.

  After apparently getting a foul taste, Hellcat reared back with a shriek of disdain. He scuttled backward and rattled several other jars lined up behind him. He would have toppled them off the counter if I hadn’t shoved my containers into place and grabbed them before they could fall.

  He shook his head, sneezing and spitting, between howls of indignation. He scooted back again and plowed five more jars nearly off the counter. “Hold still!” I cried. “You’ll wreck everything!”

  “You foul prestidigitator!” he yowled at the top of his voice, apparently once he could speak again. He’d been mute for a good five seconds and now I was sorely missing that elapsed time. “You pretentious assassin!”

  “What are you going on about?” Wanda asked, not looking up from her notebook.

  Hellcat turned to face her. “She’s killed me! She’s exterminated me! I’m extinct! I’m defunct!”

  Wanda closed her notebook, all her group names apparently forgotten. But she didn’t exactly look that concerned. “Serves you right for being so nosy and inviting yourself to our shindig and then trying to steal everyone’s drink.”

  “This hobgoblin of dissipated prudery has assailed my sovereign mien in the most heinous possible desecration! Encroachment! Defilement! Violence!”

  He succumbed to another fit of spluttering. Wanda shook her head and, opening her notebook again, started jotting down more notes.

  Afraid he was going to crash into more of my finished potions, I reached out for the cat, but he sidestepped me and sneezed again. In slow motion, I saw a cloud of droplets spray from his nose and mouth. The cloud enveloped him in a fine spray of mist and, in front of my shocked eyes, he… just vanished.

  I stared at the spot where he’d just been in disbelief.

  “Um, Wanda?” I asked as I turned to look at her and found her already looking at the spot where Hellcat had just been a second or so ago.

  We both blinked, but Hellcat still wasn’t there. I kept waiting for him to reappear, but he didn’t.

  Bailey looked up from her mixology book. “Um… did something just happen?”

  “I… uh…” I glanced over at Wanda, to find her looking back at me with the same blank expression. “My potion just made Hellcat disappear.”

  “Was the potion supposed to do that?” Bailey asked.

  Wanda shut her mouth and the stunned look evaporated. She picked up her pencil. “It’s all right.”

  “How can you say that?” I demanded, my heart riding up my throat.

  “Because Hellcat isn’t your garden variety housecat. He’s a familiar. He soaks up magic like a sponge and channels it along with his own power.”

  “So?” Bailey asked.

  Wanda looked at her with indifference. “So… the potion must have saturated Hellcat’s corporeal form, so to speak. It might take a while to wear off, but he’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, shaking my head as bouts of guilt and fear continued to plague me. The last thing I wanted to do was harm the little guy. Granted, he wasn’t my favorite creature by any stretch of the imagination but... “I’ve never seen a potion do that before. Not to mention… this one was experimental.”

  “Well, what was this experimental potion supposed to do, anyway?” Wanda asked.

  “It’s called Sacred Light Oil and it’s supposed to allow the spirit to release itself from the body in order to travel to other planes.” I swallowed hard.

  Wanda cocked her head to the side. “Hmm, that might make things interesting.”

  A disembodied sneeze startled everyone in the room and we all gasped as, in unison, we spun around to look toward the sound, and Hellcat blipped back into being. He hung suspended in mid-air for just the shadow of an instant. The next second, he tumbled end over end to the floor. He yowled and the sound was loud enough to wake the dead. No disrespect to Libby… or Darla.

  I dove in to catch him, but before I could reach him, he sneezed again. The force of that sneeze twisted him head over tail, and he disappeared in another puff of smoke.

  “I don’t think… this is good,” I breathed as I looked at Wanda in question. “What should we do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Wanda insisted. “He might sneeze himself all the way to Albuquerque before that stuff wears off.”

  Her lack of concern was starting to get to me and I had to wonder if she thought I’d just done her a favor. It was no secret that she couldn’t stand Hellcat—maybe almost as much as he couldn’t stand her. “You just want to let him cartwheel around between here and… wherever?” I asked, shaking my head as my voice picked up in pitch. “What if he ends up somewhere… you know…”

  “Somewhere like where?” Wanda scanned her notebook again. “He’ll be fine. Trust me. He always is.”

  “He could wind up anywhere or… or nowhere! That Sacred Light Oil means he could be traveling to other planes of existence, Wanda!”

  “He probably is,” she answered on a shrug. “And I’m sure he’ll have lots of exciting stories to tell us about his travels when he returns.”

  Another sneeze popped Hellcat into view over by the bar. He gave a few infuriated screeches before he vanished again. I lunged for the counter, shoved several bottles out of the way, and scrambled for the Uncrossing Oil as an idea started to form in my mind.

  “What are you doing?” Bailey asked.

  “The Uncrossing Oil might be the answer to this dilemma because it will reverse the spell as long as….”

  The hellish shriek of a stricken cat came from the living room. Libby and Bailey both tried to race through the doorway, but they collided because it wasn’t wide enough for both of them. Libby rubbed her arm as Bailey gave her an exasperated expression, but neither was any closer to arresting the missing cat.

  “What’s this about Uncrossing Oil?” Wanda asked, giving me a curious expression.

  “I have to anoint Hellcat with the Uncrossing Oil the next time he appears,” I panted. Even if Wanda wasn’t concerned, I was. Furthermore, it was my fault the cat had even been able to consume the potion in the first place. No matter what, I had to make this right.

  Bailey finally forced herself through the log jam and dashed into the living room as another crackle and pop came to my ears. Then she turned to face me with a frown and a shrug.

  “I think… I think… He’s gone.”

  Chapter Four

  “Damn!” I charged back to the kitchen, but this time, I snatched my handbag from the hook and started rifling through it until I found what I was looking for.

  Wanda sighed. “Like I told you before, you’re freaking out for no reason, Poppy. Familiars are impossible to get rid of—trust me, I’ve already tried at least thirty different times.”

  “If you cared at all about your cat,” I fired back, irritated with her calm demeanor when I felt like my heart was ready to explode from my chest, “you would help me instead of obsessing about a name for a group that doesn’t need a name in the first place.”

  “I do… er… care about him,” she answered, but the words seemed strange on her tongue—as though she didn’t trust them. “I just don’t think he’s in any danger.”

  Just then, Hellcat appeared again, this time, above the kitchen table. I cranked off the top of the Uncrossing Oil and spattered him with it before he vanished with another infuriated howl.

  Libby and Bailey exchanged glances.

  “Was that potion supposed to do something?” Darla asked, “Because it looked like a dud to me.”

  I smacked my lips, as much in annoyance as guilt that my first attempt didn’t work. Not only that, but now I was fresh out of ideas. And it wasn’t like Wanda was much of a help.

  “Whatever it was that the little kitty-cat swallowed, it must have been pretty powerful,” Libby said, her eyes going wide as she looked over at me.

  Wanda scratched her scalp with her pencil point, but she didn’t look up. “Poppy said it was an experimental potion. What did you expect?”

  “How can you be so blasé about this?” I asked, glaring at her. “Your cat’s life is in danger!”

  “It’s not,” she answered on a yawn. “Which is what I’ve been trying to explain to you since this whole thing happened. Once the potion wears off, he’ll be back to his awful, little wretch of a self.”

  “Well, I don’t want to wait and find out if you’re right or not!” I answered, not meaning to sound like I was losing it, but I sort of was.

  “What would you like me to do about it, Poppy?” Wanda asked, like I was a petulant child.

  I shook my head because I wasn’t sure what she should do about it. Thankfully, something then occurred to me. “Why don’t you cast a tracking spell on him? Then, maybe we’d actually have a decent chance of finding him?”

  “What for? Hellcat doesn’t need to be found. We already know where he is.”

  “We don’t know where he is because he keeps blipping in and out of existence!” I practically screamed at her. “And if we don’t hurry up and do something, he could get hurt or worse!”

  “A tracking spell won’t work if he’s crossing an interdimensional boundary,” Wanda answered on another yawn. “You should know that.” She yawned again, and I half wanted to shove my foot in her mouth! “And if he never came back, he’d be doing me a favor. That cat has been the bane of my existence for…”

  I froze, staring at her as her words started to repeat themselves through my mind. “Interdimensional boundary? That… doesn’t sound good. At all.”

  “Yeah, that really doesn’t,” Bailey agreed.

  Wanda smiled at us both. “You both need to relax—my gosh, you’ll give yourself apoplexies.”

  “Maybe we need to give ourselves apoplexies!” I railed back.