It really didn’t help that Wanda was prickly and on edge and kept shooting me dark looks over the top of the paper she was skimming. Normally, I’d have tried to talk to her about whatever was wrong, but getting Wanda to talk about anything emotion adjacent was like attempting to force a furious cat into a bucket of water. So, I pretended not to notice. We had enough on our plates without me getting cursed or set on fire.

  Ignoring Wanda was starting to push the boundaries of what was believable, though. I didn’t even know that someone could shuffle papers so aggressively. She tapped her stack against the table-top hard enough that I winced. The second time Wanda shot me a glare and stacked the papers so roughly, she almost tore an entire report in half. Imani then put her own stack down with a bright smile and a lot less emphasis.

  “Well, I’m going to go grab some coffee.”

  She was up and out of her chair so fast it was almost supernatural. A spike of something that I refused to admit was fear shot up my spine, and I called after her. “Oh, um, but there’s coffee in here?”

  Imani didn’t even break stride. She turned her head enough to call back over her shoulder to me. “Different coffee.”

  The door clicked shut behind her, and it was just Wanda and me. I sighed. No more oblivious Poppy, then.

  Wanda didn’t even give me a chance to ask how she was feeling. She slapped her pile of reports down on the table hard enough that a couple sheets blew up into the air, to flutter back down like wounded birds to the ebony surface.

  “I cannot believe you,” she hissed.

  I knew I deserved it, but I still winced at the barely contained fury in her voice. “I know, I’m sorry. I was really just trying to help, and–”

  “—oh, my Goddess, spare me.” Wanda slapped her hands down onto the surface of the table, her beautifully manicured nails digging into the wood like claws. “You think I care about some run-away potion? No, Poppy, I don’t.”

  “Oh.” I blinked, really confused now. “You… don’t? Then why are you so upset?”

  Wanda’s lip peeled back, just enough to flash the slightly elongated point of one of her eye teeth, and she flipped her hair back over her shoulder with an overly aggressive swat. “Let me rephrase that. Am I annoyed that all my hard work is being undone? Yes, that is very annoying. I hate memory charms, and I’m not looking forward to doing a bunch more of them. But, so what? When you look at it, it’s just one more disaster in Haven Hollow, big deal. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been the next thing. It’s practically tradition at this point.”

  My mouth worked, but I couldn’t seem to get it to make any sounds. Wanda wasn’t upset about the potion? But it was causing so many problems! I hadn’t meant for it to, but that didn’t negate the effect. What could I have possibly done other than that had her so pissed? Even looking at her now, she was angry enough to spit fire!

  Wanda forged ahead, not waiting for me to say anything. It wasn’t a conversation yet, I figured.

  “What I am ticked about, Poppy, you insufferable do-gooder, is that you didn’t come to me and tell me that something happened with your magic!” She tapped one finger in front of me, her long nail ticking against the polished surface. “And I don’t understand why? Aren’t we supposed to be best friends or whatever the sappy expression is?”

  “Yes, of course we are.”

  “Then why wouldn’t you tell me?” she nearly yelled at me. “Why would you pretend like everything was okay for… months, Poppy! For months, you’ve been struggling with this, and you didn’t come to me? Didn’t tell me that your power was unstable? I just don’t understand why you didn’t… trust me?”

  I felt like she’d slapped me, but it didn’t negate the horrible hollow feeling in my chest. I’d hurt her, and I hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t change anything, because I still had.

  “Wanda, no—that’s not what… well, I didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it. It’s just that...” I was speaking so fast, trying to get any kind of explanation out, that I was tripping over my words. “It wasn’t about trust; it wasn’t anything like that. It’s just, you had so much going on, and I didn’t want to bother you. And what happened to my magic, well… it wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, just an odd, unsettled one. Like magic was sloshing around inside of me, more than I’d ever had before.”

  Her frown was a little lighter, so I barrelled on.

  “There were just so many things happening, and it seemed so silly to complain to you about it, especially when I didn’t even understand it myself. And, really, I didn’t think that there was anything we could do about it. It was just a weird feeling I had. But then, in the graveyard, something just went up like a bonfire.”

  Something in Wanda’s gaze sharpened. “A graveyard?”

  I paused, trying to keep up with the sharp turn the conversation just took. “Yeah, I mentioned that earlier—the potion needed to be brewed on a waxing moon, in the graveyard.”

  “Crap, I guess Lorcan is right.”

  I frowned. “About what?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I really don’t listen when I should.” Then she shook her head. “Anyway, you brewed the potion in the graveyard.”

  “Right.”

  Wanda’s expression hovered somewhere between understanding and annoyance. She tapped her nails against the table, drumming a little rhythm. “And is this the first time since you tied yourself magically to a Blood Witch that you’ve created a potion in a graveyard?”

  I could have slapped myself. I felt so silly. “Yes.” My voice came out small, embarrassed.

  “Well.” She drew the word out, a little smug. “I guess we have an idea of why your magic might have gotten a little out of hand. You should probably stick to making potions in your kitchen, or at the candy store or Build-A-Bear something.”

  I didn’t have a chance to respond before Wanda’s phone buzzed where she had it face down on the table. She had it up and against her ear before it had a chance for a second ring.

  “Lorcan? What’s wrong?”

  I hunched forward, eager to know what was happening. Wanda must have seen me crowding in close, because she put the phone on speaker and laid it out on the table so we could both hear what her vampire paramour was saying.

  “Sorry, sweetling.” Lorcan’s Irish brogue came across the line surprisingly clear. “I was trying to ring Henner but he’s not answering his phone.”

  “He’s a little busy, trying to keep little miss ‘like and subscribe’ from spilling the Hollow’s secrets across the entire internet,” Wanda snapped.

  Lorcan’s sigh kicked up static on the line. “Yes, well, she’s about to kick up some trouble near the edge of town, I’m afraid.”

  “Ugh,” Wanda groaned.

  “I don’t know how to stop her, my love, short of picking her up and throwing her in the river.”

  “You could,” Wanda said, hopefully. “You’re fast enough.”

  He chuckled. “I thought the task at hand was to give her less to be suspicious of?”

  I leaned forward, closer to the phone on the table. “What’s happening at the edge of town? Sorry, hi, Lorcan. I’m here too.”

  “Ah, Poppy, our ever-constant ray of sunshine.”

  “Well, at the moment, I’m more of a ray of anxiety.”

  Most supernatural businesses were closer to the center of town, which had partially just been luck, and partially Ophelia playing favorites for years. There wasn’t much on the outskirts of Haven Hollow that would be interesting to someone like Kenzie, unless she was going to poke around some of the old, mostly condemned places in the woods. I didn’t think anyone would try to stop her, though. The worst she could find there was tetanus.

  I wracked my brain. Calliope’s art gallery was out that way, but as a Muse, her powers weren’t the overt kind that would get views, or even notice from people who didn’t know who she was or what to look for. There was a gas station, but the only thing haunting about it was its prices. What could pull Kenzie out that way?

  “Get on with it, Lorcan,” Wanda warned.

  “I’ll keep it G rated.”

  Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile hovering around the corner of her mouth. “Just spit it out. Some of us have actual work to do.”

  “While I’m just out here sightseeing,” he teased. His voice sobered again. “There’s something going on at the hotel. It seems some of the residents have decided to host some sort of drag race in the parking lot? Which, normally no one would notice, but our problem child was tipped off about a hotel that’s sometimes there, and sometimes not, so I’m thinking keeping things quiet might be the better idea.”

  I felt faint. I blinked a few times, but still didn’t help. “A… a drag race?”

  “Yes, threw me a bit, too, I will admit,” Lorcan said. “I didn’t even know ghosts could drag race.”

  Wanda’s face scrunched up, and she looked torn between annoyed and baffled, before splitting the difference. “Are there ghost cars?”

  “Bloody hell if I know.” Lorcan did something that had the phone sputtering with static for a second. “But our problem child is about to walk right into an entire mess of nonsense.”

  I was still reeling, but I tried to pull it together. “But she probably can’t see them, right?” Most humans couldn’t see ghosts. “And it’s not like the ghosts will show up on videos or photos.”

  Well, mostly. Sometimes there were light orbs, or shadows. Of course, with my luck, Kenzie would be able to get a whole class picture of every wandering spirit that had taken up residence at the hotel Death himself had set up for them.

  Fabric rustled over the line, probably Lorcan shrugging. “I figured, why take the risk? We’ve enough problems without adding a few more. Could someone get a hold of Darla for me, and see if she can get the spooks to keep it down, and preferably, out of the public spaces for a bit?”

  Darla, the once flapper turned ghost turned living woman again by a bolt of Wanda’s runaway magic, was one of the most powerful mediums in town. Apparently being dead and a ghost yourself made for increased sensitivity to all things spooky. She’d been left kind of in charge of the hotel, once Death had needed to go on to resume his normal duties, so if anyone could keep the spooks in line, she was a good bet.

  Plus, these days, even Darla by herself was truthfully not by herself. She was acting as a channel for our late Chief of Police, Taliyah’s cousin, Cain Morgan. Between the two of them, they were pretty handy at keeping the ghosts of Haven Hollow from getting out of hand.

  I already had my phone out and was in the process of texting her. “I’ll ask her to head over there. And I’ll remind her to keep it as non-attention grabbing as she can.”

  Wanda snorted. “Ask a fish to fly, while you’re at it.”

  That was fair. A little mean, but fair. Darla had been an actress back before movies had sound other than a piano soundtrack. She’d gotten her big break when all the action was portrayed through facial expression and high drama, and she’d never really stepped away from it. Add in a penchant for slang that was a century out of date, and a need for attention that could only come from being a big, extroverted personality and, well, ‘subtle’ wasn’t really Darla’s thing.

  I gave it a shot, though.

  The response text came pretty quickly, and I read it aloud. “She says she and Cain are on it, and not to worry, she’s no quote unquote: ‘dumb Dora’. Also she said to tell Henner that she’ll be looking to cash her check later, but there’s a string of emojis that make me feel like she’s not actually talking about money.” I paused. “Yeah, that’s a lot of winky faces. I think that means everything is good?”

  “Well, now that the possibility of ghost drag racing is sorted, I guess that means Poppy and I can get back to our entirely rewarding work with every council record since the first gargoyle to settle here thought to pick up a pen.” Wanda’s voice was spicy enough that I was surprised it didn’t peel the varnish off the table.

  There was a sound across the line, like Lorcan was trying not to laugh, because he was a man who valued his undead life. “Good luck, Sweetling.”

  And he hung up. Wise man.

  Wanda heaved a sigh and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. One foot bobbed in the air, bouncing where she had one leg crossed over the opposite knee. “This would go so much better with cocktails.”

  That surprised a laugh out of me. “You don’t think we might miss some really pertinent information if we started drinking?”

  “Poppy, honestly, does it ever get tiring being the reincarnation of Pollyanna? Maybe try living a little.”

  Well, if she was poking fun, then Wanda couldn’t have been too upset with me, at least. When she was really angry, her verbal barbs tended to be the kind that drew blood.

  I opened my mouth, but whatever I was about to say was immediately washed out by a surge of adrenaline when both my and Wanda’s phones started chiming in unison. Henner had sent a red alert through the Council group chat, with a link.

  Kenzie had posted another video.

  Chapter Twelve

  The latest video was addressed to Henner.

  Well, it was actually addressed to ‘the jerk who keeps trying to censor me’, but it was close enough.

  I didn’t want to open it. Just the thought of clicking on that little icon made my stomach turn to knots and my breath squeeze down in my throat. If Henner had sent us a red alert, that meant it was going to be bad, that much was obvious. The last time we’d had a ‘code red’ had been when Janara’s army had been marching down Main Street.

  It ended up that I didn’t have to open it though, because Wanda snatched up her own phone and immediately hit play.

  Like her other videos, Kenzie was perfectly framed in the middle of the shot. Her back was to a wall that looked vaguely industrial—something made from big, gray cinderblocks instead of the usual red bricks. It was hard to tell exactly where she was, with no signs or any other indications. The lighting also wasn’t good, and didn’t give much away. From the looks of it, the sun had set a while ago.

  I didn’t like the look on her face. In spite of the title of the video, Kenzie didn’t look frustrated or angry. She looked smug. There was a nasty little smirk at the corner of her mouth, like she’d gotten something over on an adversary.

  When she held up the little glass bottle, which happened to be a very familiar purple vial, I almost threw up.

  “Okay, this has been cute, or whatever, but I’m over it,” she said as she stepped closer to the camera.

  Gone were the sweet, overly excited tones that Kenzie usually used on her followers. So, that probably meant this wasn’t a video meant for her audience, so much. Instead, I had a feeling it was meant for an audience of only one. Kenzie had taken off her performer’s mask, and she wasn’t trying to be nice about it.

  “See, I’ve been talking to people.” Kenzie smiled in the video, and she flashed enough of her teeth to make a vampire proud. It wasn’t a friendly look, by any stretch. “And all the conversations, and the wild stories, well… they all led back to one girl. And this girl told me she had a potion that could make people remember things. Sounds crazy, right? Well, she was nice enough to let me try it out.”

  I wrapped my arms around my stomach, feeling beyond ill. Niamh’s granddaughter, Jenny. That must have been who Kenzie was talking about—who else could it have been? She was the only other person, aside from Niamh and myself who even knew about the potion in the first place. Yes, this was on Jenny. She must have given the vial to Kenzie, in the hopes of trying to root out Haven Hollow’s secrets. And why wouldn’t she? Owing to all her scoffing and eyerolling, I was pretty sure Jenny hadn’t believed the potion was actually a potion, in spite of everything Niamh had told her. She probably thought it was just aromatherapy or something.

  And now, Kenzie had my potion. Son of a…What was she going to do with it?

  The only saving grace was that the bottle looked more than half empty. It must have really made the rounds at the high school. Kenzie shook her hair back, her lips screwed up into a mean little smirk.

  “I’m done with the censorship. So, here’s the deal. Someone is going to do an interview with me, and they’re going to do it on camera. What’s more—they’re going to tell me the truth about this whole stupid town, and what’s going on here. In other words, they’re going to spill the beans. Or… we can do this the hard way.”

  She panned her camera to the side, away from herself for the first time, and a sign came into view.

  Haven Hollow Water Purification Plant.

  “The little bitch,” Wanda seethed.

  I couldn’t even make a sound, I was so terrified.

  “The hard way, in case you haven’t put it together,” Kenzie continues, “is that I dump what’s left of this bottle into the water main. That way the whole town will wake up, and finally see what’s going on under their noses and has been.”

  My nails dug into the table. There was a roaring in my ears, and it made the voice coming from the video sound tinny and far away. She couldn’t. She couldn’t do that! The Hollow would be in shambles. It wouldn’t be safe here any longer. And there was no way Wanda and her coven members would be able to be all over the town at once. No, this was much, much bigger than the coven or the Council.

  “Spell,” Wanda swore. “Hellfire. That crazy little wench is going to ruin everything we’ve built here.”

  Kenzie panned back to herself, where she was standing in front of that gray, industrial wall. It was suddenly a lot more sinister, now that I knew where she was.

  “I suggest you all try being reasonable. What’s one interview? Besides, the truth is going to come out one way or another. Maybe I can give you a better spin on things, if you talk to me.” She smiled into the camera then, sharp and vicious as a knife blade. “Tick Tock. I’m waiting.”

  The video cut out.

  I sat there, so panicked I felt like I was floating outside my body. My face was numb. I couldn’t feel my feet. This was a nightmare.