Wanda let out a breath that sounded more like a hiss than anything else. “That’s a very good question.” Then she threw her hands into the air. “Spell if I know. How would we even begin to track down exactly who might have taken this super charged potion and had their memories altered? We can’t just go door to door asking.”

  Betanya hummed, watching the flames that crackled in the grate. “If you can track down the people that have taken the potion, and there can’t be that many—I mean, how much could a single bottle hold—then re-doing the charm might be enough. As long as more potion isn’t applied, then the charm should hold. It’s finding who needs a re-cast that’s the struggle.”

  There was a knot in my stomach, and it pulled tighter with every word. There had to be a way to fix things. I worried my lower lip, thinking hard. It was then that a thought came to me, even if it was a long shot. But a long shot was better than nothing. “What about the Council records?”

  Wanda blinked at me, looking startled. “What now?”

  It was a struggle not to pick at the chair’s arms, but the wrath I’d have faced from Wanda for ruining the velvet wasn’t worth the relief that fidgeting would bring. “The Council records? Taliyah is always after us to write down reports of all incidents, right?” Everyone in the room nodded in unison. “So… maybe the names of the victims, for lack of a better word, are in the records?”

  The names should have been there, for all rights. Taliyah was a real stickler for details when it came to things like that, and as soon as she’d joined the Council, she’d insisted on new rules. The reports from before her time might be a little shoddy, especially since Ophelia seemed mostly interested in covering things up.

  Still, it was a start. And it was better than standing around here, wringing my hands and hoping the damage wouldn’t be widespread and lasting.

  Wanda tilted her head to the side, considering. “The names just might be in the records.” She sighed. “What’s more—it’s the only plan we’ve got, so we might as well start there.”

  She tossed her hair back over her shoulder with a practiced motion. “Good thing Taliyah is out of town. What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt us. Let’s head for–”

  Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the unusually loud chime of both of our phones going off at the exact same time. It was strange enough that Wanda actually paused, before fishing her cell out with a frown. I did the same, and what I read had my stomach plummeting towards my feet like a lead weight.

  Henner had set up a group chat for all the Council members. It was a good way for us to keep up to date with things and give each other the heads-up on situations between the monthly, in person meetings. I’d avoided mentioning this whole potion problem in the group chat, hoping it was something the coven could mop up, and then I could explain what had happened once it was already taken care of. But it looked like that chance was well and truly gone.

  Because there was one new message in the chat, from Henner himself. All it said was, ‘we have a problem.’

  And then there was a link to a video.

  Wanda and I exchanged a grim look before hitting play on the video. The other coven members gathered around, watching over our shoulders as the tinny, distorted sound from both phones echoed through the room.

  The second the introduction credits started rolling across the screen, the knot in my stomach turned into nausea. ‘We have a problem’ was a bit of an understatement, Henner.

  There were panning shots of graveyards, old and abandoned houses, and an overgrown drive-in movie theater, all with the bright white letters of ‘Chasing the Paranormal’ blazoned across it.

  When the music died down, the video turned to a closeup shot of a young woman who was standing in front of a brick wall. She was in her mid-twenties, her light blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her makeup was dark and dramatic, her smirk carefully outlined in a wine-red lip stain.

  “Hey there, everyone,” she chirped, and I thought Wanda was actually going to wretch at the painfully fake cheeriness. “Kenzie Chase here, with Chasing the Paranormal. And have I got a fun treat for you all today.”

  She eased the camera back, until I could see more of exactly what was going on in the background, and I slapped a hand over my mouth so I didn’t make a truly upsetting sound.

  Because I knew that brick wall. It was part of a building I’d left just over an hour ago. Kenzie Chase, who was infamous for her expose videos on the supernatural, was standing in front of the Haven Hollow Hospital.

  “That’s right, Chasers. I’m back in Haven Hollow, the small town with the spooky reputation.”

  “It only has a spooky reputation because of you,” Wanda said, frowning.

  Kenzie had blown into town a few months back, trying to expose some kind of gold curse. It wasn’t a curse at all, just a bully of a teacher who got a bit of the wrong potion on his hands and ended up Midas-ing his way through town. That had been partially my fault, too, come to think of it. I was going to have to start getting Wanda to approve of all my potion making at this rate.

  Kenzie had launched a reign of terror in Haven Hollow as she attempted to get proof of everything paranormal that was going on in our town. And all of us, meanwhile, had just been trying to figure out who was turning everything into gold, while also trying not to get caught on camera. Meanwhile, Henner was scrambling to keep Kenzie from uploading anything too damaging to the internet. Scrubbing her digital footprint hadn’t exactly been an easy feat.

  Kenzie returning really didn’t bode well. But what would she be doing at the hospital?

  “After my last visit, where the signs of a supernatural curse was being actively repressed by the people in power here in Haven Hollow, I decided to stick around. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the next thing popped up, and look at that, I was right.”

  Kenzie’s smirk nearly took up the whole screen.

  Olga huffed. “I vant to slap zat face. Vhat a rude child.”

  Kenzie tossed her head, making her ponytail flip. “So, what’s going on this time, you ask? From my initial investigation, we might be looking at paranormal events, hidden magic, and a cult that might even be erasing people’s memories.”

  All of us exchanged a horrified look before my eyes were dragged back to the video playing on my phone.

  “It sounds crazy, I know.” Kenzie grinned at the camera. The flash of white teeth reminded me more of a hunting hound than a smile. “But I’m at the local hospital, looking into the stories from one girl—stories that the hospital staff seem to think are just the rants of someone unwell. Or could she be telling the truth? This fifteen-year-old girl is telling anyone who will listen that she was attacked by a witch, and then had her memories stolen from her.”

  “A Magicless, not a witch,” Wanda snapped at her phone. “Goddess, it’s infuriating enough that Kenzie’s here again—but get the facts right!”

  I was so horrified my lips felt numb, because Kenzie was at the hospital to interview Alicia. But what was more concerning was that Alicia had seen Finn face down a Magicless. She’d seen him save his whole class, and then Miss Rose, too, for that matter. And that meant she knew his secret—would Alicia tell that secret to Kenzie?

  “So, get ready, Chasers,” Kenzie chirped with another fake smile. “I’m going to head in, and then I’ll be live streaming as I try to get to the bottom of all of this. It will give the conspiracy less time to try and shut me down or mess with my devices like they did last time. So, until we meet again, I’m Kenzie Chase, with Chasing the Paranormal.”

  Wanda groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hell fires.”

  My mind was reeling—busily dragging up ideas, plans, just to toss them out immediately. Driving to the hospital to confront Kenzie wouldn’t do any good, and I knew it. But I didn’t know what else to do.

  Haven Hollow was our home. Finn and I had built a life here, and I wasn’t about to let that all get torn away. And if the supernatural got exposed to the rest of the world, then would anywhere be safe?

  But I didn’t know how to stop Kenzie. She didn’t seem to be the kind of person who listened to reason, only to likes and subscribers. Just asking her to stop wasn’t likely to get us anywhere.

  Another message popped up in the chat from Henner.

  I can disrupt the livestream for now, but you need to figure out how to fix this. Like yesterday.

  I took in a long breath and held it until the panic started to ease down, then I let it out in a slow trickle.

  Wanda looked grim as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Let’s get to work, then.”

  Chapter Eleven

  For the next few days, the Council chat kept blowing up.

  Every time my phone dinged with a notification, my stomach twisted into a tighter knot.

  Henner posted the videos that he managed to take down and scrub from the internet, as much as anything could be removed from the web, but that wasn’t going to work forever.

  Henner’s Technomancy, his ability to deal with technology and build and shape things that really shouldn’t have worked in the first place, along with the magical rapport he had with computers… well, he still had his limits. As it was, he was glued to his laptop so he could pounce when Kenzie threw up the next horror show, but the man had to sleep and eat (or so we kept reminding him). And his range was limited.

  If she saves her videos as hard copies, and then takes them out of town to upload them, there’s only going to be so much I can do, he’d warned us after taking down yet another video about Big Foot.

  I couldn’t even blame Roy for that one. The Sasquatches Roy had brought into town (pretending to be Fifi’s harem so her well-intentioned family would back down) had been an absolute handful. Luckily, Fifi’s extended Succubus family had eased up on their anti-monogamy standpoint a little, so they hadn’t been invited back.

  I can remove videos, but not the source unless I get access to Kenzie’s camera and phone. And I can’t do much if someone saves a copy before I take it down.

  At the rate things were going, I was chewing my fingernails down to the quick.

  Another video popped up that afternoon titled: ‘sketchy old man trapped in a mirror’. I frowned as I played it, indulging in some morbid fascination. In the frame was a bored looking Kenzie being rambled at by an elderly man in an extremely cluttered space. She let him go on for a few minutes before completely losing patience and cutting him off.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Just to clarify; you were trapped on the inside of a mirror by a magic horse—is that what you’re telling me?”

  I squinted, leaning closer to the screen. “Wait, isn’t that the man who owns the pawn shop over on–”

  “—Poppy, focus,” Wanda snapped, looking oddly red through the cheeks. “We need to track these idiots down and get them properly re-enchanted. Then the interviews, and the videos, for that matter, will dry up, and that little menace can see herself off, preferably with a hex up the backside.”

  “How can there be so many reports, and so many of them are totally unhelpful?” Imani leaned back from her hunch over the conference table. She held up one sheet of paper that was almost entirely obscured by what looked like lines of black sharpie. “Who redacts their own records?”

  “That was back when Ophelia was the head of the Council,” Fifi offered apologetically. She’d brought another carafe of coffee with her, and what looked like a box of doughnuts to go with it, and I was so grateful I could have cried. “I’m actually surprised there are records of that time at all. Ophelia really just did what she wanted to, at the end of the day. Only Roy could stand up to her.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” Wanda sat back, shoving a pile of file folders out of her way so she had a clear view of Fifi. “The woman had detailed notes on exactly what kind of lawn decorations people put out, but not about which humans came across supernatural situations?”

  Fifi shrugged, helplessly. “Honestly, before a few years ago, we didn’t have many magic leaks to the human citizens. I don’t know if it was just that the population was smaller, or if everyone was just too scared of Ophelia and her magical NDA, but it was pretty smooth sailing.”

  I happily snagged a vanilla donut with rainbow sprinkles, grateful for any kind of food. We’d been at it for hours, and we weren’t making much headway. “What would Ophelia have even done about a leak?” I asked. “I mean—that was before Wanda lived here and without Wanda, there were no witches to cast any memory charms, right?”

  Fifi winced, tucking a strand of platinum blond hair behind her ear. “I’d rather not think about that.”

  The donut tasted dry as sawdust on my tongue, but I forced myself to chew and swallow, anyway. My stomach would be happy for the calories, if nothing else. Ophelia had never struck me as a nice person, even when she’d sold me my house. She was a Night Hag, and they had an odor of decay that withered everything around them. It still caught me off guard to think of her as a murderer, though.

  Sorting through all the Council records was both slow and tedious. There were boxes of the things, just reams and reams of paper. Nothing was digital, partially for security, and partially because when the reports started, even typewriters hadn’t been invented yet.

  Fifi had been kind enough to open up the meeting room of her Real Estate offices, Hallowed Homes, for us to spread out and go through all the town’s files. What there were of them anyway. Before Taliyah came to town, keeping records of incidents didn’t seem to be a major concern or a concern at all, really. There were a couple that were written by hand on what looked like rolled parchment, and sounded like something from Masterpiece theater. I found one that looked like it had been scribbled onto a bar napkin.

  At least at Hallowed Homes, we had space to spread out and not be on top of each other. There was good lighting, and frankly, the leather office chairs were amazingly comfortable. If we’d tried this at the farmhouse or my shop, people would have had to sit on the floor or folded up like human pretzels. And those who weren’t members of the coven weren’t allowed into the coven house, so here we were. And I was happy for it, because we had a nice conference room with a huge table made of glass and brushed steel. There was plenty of light, and even a potted plant in the corner.

  Fifi had really done well for herself. It was good to see her so happy. When I’d first moved to town, she’d been struggling to find her place. As a succubus, Fifi had been expected to flit from man to man, from party to party, feeding off sexual energy to sustain herself as a demon. Much to her family’s confusion and major disappointment, Fifi was a one-man kind of woman at heart. She wanted the husband and kids and house with a white picket fence out front.

  Now, she was dating Roy, and as a Sasquatch, he had more than enough energy to sustain her without him even noticing it going missing. Or maybe it was because they were soulmates? She had her business, and with all the people flooding back into the Hollow, it had to be booming. And even in this pretty stressful time, Fifi was practically glowing, looking effortlessly gorgeous in her red silk blouse and black pencil skirt. I didn’t know how she and Wanda wore heels that tall. I’d have sprained my ankle just looking at them too long.

  Fifi made a vague gesture with her hands, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do about the information we did have before us. Her nails were painted the same color as her blouse, deep red under the fluorescent lights.

  “If there’s anything else I can get you, just let me know.”

  Wanda slammed another stack of dusty file folders onto the table, sending a cloud up into the air. “If you really wanted, you could grab some of these, and… and she’s gone.”

  It was remarkable how fast Fifi could move. I’d barely even seen the red flash of the soles of her shoes. In her defense, while she’d graciously opened up her offices to us in our time of crisis, Fifi still had an office to run and a bunch of listings to show. The world wasn’t about to grind to a halt just because I’d messed up, big time.

  It wasn’t like I’d planned for it, either. I hadn’t even considered that one little potion could undo a charm like it had. It normally wouldn’t have, I was pretty sure. More and more I was certain that the surge of wild magic that I’d experienced in the graveyard was responsible for everything that had come after. I’d need to run tests, of course, but I was pretty sure the potion normally wouldn’t be able to manage what it had. Gypsy magic just didn’t work like that—it wasn’t that strong.

  Of course, with Taliyah out of town, we were down two of our biggest guns when it came to dealing with a disaster in Haven Hollow—not only Taliyah, but also Maverick. That meant the Council was shorthanded, and currently running itself ragged trying to keep up with all the people suddenly regaining their memories. It wasn’t all that many, honestly. But it was way more than I thought could be possible from the amount of potion out there, and each person who remembered was such a very big problem on their own that it seemed like more.

  We’d decided to divide and conquer, to try and stem the tide. It wasn’t working as well as we’d hoped, and Henner was having to slap down more and more of Kenzie’s attempts to slip videos, emails, or data out of the Hollow. It was a losing game, and unless we confronted Kenzie directly, which none of us wanted to do, no matter what Wanda was suggesting, this was the best we could do.

  Wanda, Imani, and I were going through the boxes of old papers that made up Council records, while Betanya and Olga, along with their familiars, were trying to figure out a way to repair the memory charms so that even if someone took another dose of Memento Mori, it would hold. I’d given them what was left of my vial, so they could examine it. Maybe they could even figure out what the surge of wild magic had done to the potion.

  Meanwhile, Roy, Lorcan, and a few others were out in the streets. They were trying to keep the madness to a minimum, and steer people, who suddenly remembered odd things happening in town, from going back to the scene to poke around. The fewer people who ended up lost in the woods, the better.