The two spells detonated in a devastating flash of energy that bowled me head over heels onto the stretch of grass in front of Wanda’s duplex. It sounded like a bomb had gone off and my ears couldn’t quite get with the program—everything suddenly sounded blurry, like sound in slow motion.

  And then that blurriness faded and I heard someone bellowing my name.

  “Get up, Poppy! You have to get up!”

  I didn’t want to get up. I felt like a wet dishrag and everything hurt. I didn’t even have the energy to open my eyes.

  “Get up, Poppy!” the voice thundered. “Get up now!”

  I summoned all my resolve and peeled my face off the pavement. Looking up, I found myself staring at a magical battle to end all magical battles. Roscoe fired blasts and curses at the duplex, but they bounced off the Sanctum Spell. They never got anywhere near the porch.

  Meanwhile, Wanda and Olga lambasted him with hexes and blood bolts from the other side. He deflected most of them, but they still managed to hold him at bay and stop him from killing me. Wanda and Olga laid into Roscoe with unimaginable power.

  “Get up, Poppy!” Wanda was the one calling to me. “Get up now!”

  I braced my hands and feet against the ground and forced myself up. Roscoe took notice of me and laughed that awful sound.

  “Now, Poppy!” Wanda yelled, and I forced my feet forward, aiming for the stairs that would lead to her porch.

  Once I reached the stairs, I’d be safe…

  I dove under another blast from Roscoe… or tried to. The impact struck me between the shoulder blades and I toppled onto the grass—but the grass meant I was inside Wanda’s property line. Now Roscoe couldn’t touch me.

  I looked up to see Roy as he reached down and grabbing me under the arms, pulled me the rest of the way into the duplex. Then he looked down at me and shook his head.

  “That was way too close.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I opened my eyes and looked around myself and instantly didn’t recognize my surroundings. It took me another five or so seconds to realize I was lying on Wanda’s couch and the room was illuminated by a single lamp beside the couch. I glanced out the window and noticed it was dark. Trying to sit up, I immediately wilted again. My head felt like a lead balloon and I struggled to breathe.

  “How long have I been out?”

  Wanda sat down on the cushion next to me. “About six hours.”

  Six hours?!

  “Oh, no!” I yelled, trying to sit up, but finding it inordinately difficult. “I never called to check on Finn,” I explained, shaking my head. “He must be worried sick.” I made another heroic effort to sit up but didn’t get far.

  “Keep still,” Wanda told me. “I already checked on both Finn and Astrid an hour ago. They’re happy at Marty’s gorging on root beer floats.”

  “And Fifi is there with them,” Roy added as he walked into the room and leaned against the doorjamb, studying me as he did so.

  Florence hustled over to me and pressed a cold, wet towel to my forehead. “You’re feverish. I’ll make you some soup.”

  “I don’t want soup,” I answered as I faced Wanda. “What… what happened?”

  She shrugged and then shook her head. “One second you were here and the next you were gone.”

  “Gone?” I repeated, not understanding.

  She nodded. “First you were here and then, blip, you were gone.”

  “And then we saw you outside with Roscoe,” Florence added.

  “Getting my butt kicked,” I finished on the exhale.

  They all nodded. I looked up at Wanda then.

  “The Jeep?”

  “Is destroyed.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t… I don’t understand how that’s possible! I was in the astral plane! Nothing should have happened on the physical plane.”

  “Zee lines between zee astral plane und zee mortal vorld vere blurred,” Olga explained.

  “Then it wasn’t just a dream?” I asked.

  Wanda and Olga shook their heads and Wanda responded, “The dream world and the real world intersected, just as Olga said.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to understand, tried to wrap my brain around how this was even possible.

  Just then, a crushing boom struck the wall to my left, and the whole building shook. I jolted out of my skin, but still couldn’t sit up.

  “What was that?” I asked, my mouth dropping open because no one seemed to notice the sound, or if they did, didn’t seem very concerned by it.

  “It’s just Roscoe.” Wanda waved behind her. “He’s been at it for hours.”

  I listened to one pounding quake after another. Then I looked up at Wanda, who shook her head.

  “He can try all he wants to get inside, but he won’t be able to break the Sanctum Spell.”

  “Remember, Roscoe isn’t just a vampire,” I started and just the effort to speak took a toll on me. “Since he’s been absorbing witch magic for decades, he’s absorbed some of Betanya’s… abilities. That’s how he hid himself from your tracking spell.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Was that how he did it? I wondered.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure that’s how he was able to muddy the line between the astral and physical planes, as well.”

  “Ya,” Olga said with a nod.

  “He’s immune to sunlight, too,” I continued, as another crash made me look toward the front door. “But I guess you already knew that.”

  “Ya,” Olga answered again, with another nod.

  “I wonder what else he’s immune to,” Roy said.

  I shrugged. “Maybe everything. Maybe we won’t be able to kill him at all.”

  “Now that doesn’t sound like the Poppy Morton I know,” Wanda said with a smile as I shook my head and then breathed out deeply.

  “I feel like hell.”

  “It’s no wonder. Your astral body was almost completely drained and then the astral got confused with the physical so, yeah, you’re probably a complete mess at the moment.”

  I felt like a complete mess but didn’t want to dwell on it.

  “How is Betanya?”

  Wanda shook her head. “She’s completely out of it. If Roscoe’s little temper tantrum doesn’t wake her up, nothing will.”

  “She’s still very weak,” Florence added as she appeared in the hallway.

  Wanda nodded. “She’s likely to be out of action for a while.”

  What blood I had left drained from my face. “How long is a long while?”

  “Who knows?” Wanda responded with a shrug. “I’ve never dealt with this vampire stuff before. But, I’d bet Betanya had to have been incredibly close to death, otherwise Lorcan’s blood would have perked her up by now.”

  “And Lorcan?”

  “Should just be waking,” Roy answered.

  “Well, what are we going to do about…?” Another withering smash hit the building, followed by several more. “Roscoe could keep us barricaded in here forever.”

  “That won’t happen,” Wanda answered.

  “And how are you so sure about that?”

  She shrugged. “We’ll find a way to deal with him, and as soon as Betanya is well, she’ll be the first in line to squash his pin head.”

  I sagged down on the couch again. “I don’t feel good at all.”

  “Understandably so—you were nearly killed.”

  I nodded as Wanda looked over at me again, as if studying me to see how badly off I really was. She reached out and patted my arm. She really had changed from the prickly, anti-social witch she was when she first moved to Haven Hollow.

  “Everything is going to be all right,” she offered but I didn’t think she believed her own words. I certainly didn’t.

  I reclined on the couch, and every limb felt like it weighed a ton, but the despair settling over me was a thousand times worse than the exhaustion.

  Everything was definitely NOT going to be all right, not with one of the most powerful vampires assaulting the duplex. I shut my eyes and gulped down the lump in my throat.

  I just couldn’t shake the feeling that the sky was falling—that everything around me was going to hell in a handbag. I couldn’t remember feeling this bad—ever. Even when Janara, the usurper of the Faerie Court of Winter, kidnapped Finn, I’d never felt this need to just give up. No, back then, I’d done something. I’d fought back.

  Wanda sat up and her tone changed to a brisk, business-like clip. “While you were out, Roy, Olga and I figured out a plan.” She cocked her head to the side and then shook it. “Well, the beginnings of a plan anyway.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “We have to find a way to weaken Roscoe.”

  “Betanya,” I started, but Wanda shook her head.

  “We can’t rely on Betanya… we don’t even know if she’s powerful enough to defeat him at her strongest. He nearly killed her inside the void, after all.”

  “So?”

  “So, ve need your potions, Poppy,” Olga said as she walked into my line of sight and took a seat in the armchair beside me.

  I sank back into the cushions. “All my potions are at my house or my store.”

  Wanda nodded. “We figured as much.”

  “So we’ll have to go get them,” Roy said.

  “No,” I answered and shook my head. “I think it’s a bad idea. I mean, I barely made it here in one piece and I don’t have a Sanctum Spell on my house or my store.”

  “All good points,” she answered on a sigh. “But we have to get ahold of those potions because I don’t have any here and, furthermore, I don’t have any of the necessary ingredients here either.”

  I shook my head. “Wanda, what if none of my potions work against Roscoe? He’s insanely powerful.”

  “How do you know they won’t work?” she demanded, shaking her head. “The Fiery Command Oil worked against that wendigo. Why wouldn’t it work against Roscoe?”

  “Because Roscoe has reinforced himself with blood magic,” I answered. “And as you’re well aware, blood magic… death magic… is unpredictable.”

  Wanda nodded as she chewed on her lip. “Good point.”

  “So, what’s Plan B?”

  She sat back and settled in at my side. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

  I frowned up at her. “Why am I always in charge of coming up with our plans?”

  “Because you’re way better at planning than I am. You always seem to come up with a way.”

  “Great,” I groaned.

  “You’ll think of something.”

  “Not this time, I won’t. This time, I’m a casualty of war.”

  “Nonsense. You just need a little pick-me-up, and since we don’t have any of your potions to rely on here, we’ll just have to substitute with the next best thing.”

  She left the room and headed for the kitchen, and I could hear her discussing something with Libby. I turned my attention to Florence, where she sat across the living room, apparently only half-listening to our conversation. Instead, she was busy reading a fashion magazine.

  When Wanda returned, she placed a half-full bottle of Gentleman Jack in front of me, like it was my birthday or something.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You actually drink that stuff?”

  “I keep it around in case of dire emergencies—and I think this definitely qualifies.” She walked over to the booze cabinet and returned with two shot crystal tumblers.

  I watched her out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t think drinking alcohol is a good idea for me right now.”

  “It’s the best idea. If we had some of your potions at our disposal, we wouldn’t need this, but since we don’t, it’s my job to heal you with my own… personal brand of magic.”

  I snorted. “I can’t wait.”

  “Of course you can’t.” She dumped the Gentleman Jack into each glass and shoved one at me. “Bottoms up.”

  “Wanda, I’m not drinking… whatever that is.”

  “Oh, cool your panties,” she answered on a frown. “I reinforced it with a healing spell.” Tossing the drink back, she downed the contents in a couple of gulps. Then she banged her tumbler onto the coffee table as the building trembled under another crash from Roscoe.

  “Hmm,” I started, as I reconsidered the shot before me.

  “Forget it!” she yelled toward the door. “You aren’t coming in!” She turned around and blinked at me as soon as she realized I hadn’t made any motion to even taste mine.

  “Drink it. What’s the matter with you?”

  I sniffed it. To my surprise, the heady fumes somehow made me feel better. On an impulse, I threw the glass back and swallowed the whole shot, hoping her spell would do the trick.

  Heat and vitality flooded me, even as the bitter liquid burned my throat on its way down.

  “You see?” Wanda dolloped another inch into my glass. “I told you I’d bring you back. I’m a witch, after all. I might not be as good at potions as you, but I’m not completely without skills.”

  “I see that.” I took the tumbler from her, but when I glanced over at Libby, I found her scowling at both of us.

  “Aren’t you going to offer the rest of us any?” Roy asked.

  Wanda looked at Olga and held up the bottle. “Olga?”

  “Nein, danke,” Olga answered and held up her hand.

  “Libby?” Wanda offered, full well knowing Libby didn’t drink.

  Libby raised a judgmental brow at Wanda. “I wouldn’t drink that poison if you paid me. My father was an avid prohibitionist. He always said liquor was the devil’s cocktail and he was right. It releases humanity’s worst inclinations—inclinations better kept buried. We have law and order for a reason.”

  “You’re darned tootin’, it releases them.” Wanda took a third shot and offered the bottle to Roy, who downed a few swallows directly, not bothering with a glass.

  “Swallowed like a true mountain man,” Wanda said and gave him an admiring glance.

  Then she put her tumbler down again, thank the stars. Mopping her up off the floor wasn’t my idea of fighting Roscoe.

  Everyone was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed with gratitude that whatever was in the Gentleman Jack seemed to be doing its job—as the seconds ticked by, I started to feel better and better.

  Wanda looked at me. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “How’s that gut rot doing?”

  “Actually, I do feel better.”

  “Good,” Wanda answered on a smile. “So we can go and kick some vampire ass.” Then she looked at me. “What’s the plan?”

  I couldn’t say my mind was on formulating a plan at the moment, though. I faced Wanda and frowned as I cocked my head to listen. “It’s gotten very quiet out there.”

  Wanda was silent for a moment before she nodded. “You’re right. I wonder if Roscoe gave up finally and left?”

  “I doubt it,” I answered.

  She nodded. “Anyway, back to my original point… I’m waiting.”

  “On what?”

  “You!” she answered.

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  She frowned at me. “I already told you. We weaken him with one of your potions…”

  “Which one?”

  “I don’t know. I suggested Fiery Command Oil and you said it wouldn’t work.”

  “That’s not what I said,” I argued, shaking my head. “I said what if it doesn’t work.”

  “Then we can use Confusion Oil.”

  I shook my head again and sighed. “Forget it. Potions won’t work against Roscoe. He’s too strong—he’s too full of blood magic. My potions would just piss him off.”

  “Hence the need to weaken him,” Wanda said as she chewed on her lower lip.

  “Weaken him?”

  She nodded. “We don’t have to defeat him. We just have to soften him up so Betanya can finish him off.”

  “You know,” Olga started as she faced Wanda. “Ve vould all be much more powerful if ve formed a coven.”

  “A coven?” I repeated.

  Wanda sighed as Olga nodded. “Vitches in a coven are much more potent zan vitches vizout a coven.” She took a breath and continued. “Vitches in a coven pull zeir power from each ozer, zus maximizing zeir abilities.”

  “Hmm,” I said as I thought about it and as I thought about it, considered something else. “And now that Betanya is alive again, she’ll probably want to move back into her house.”

  “So?” Wanda asked.

  “So, there’s just the little problem of transferring ownership—or re-transferring ownership.”

  “She won’t be able to transfer ownership,” Wanda answered.

  I nodded. “Right, because you’re the resident witch in town, now that you’ve claimed Sanctum. That means Betanya won’t be able to own property in Haven Hollow again.”

  “Und neizer vould I,” Olga added.

  Wanda frowned. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “What will you do?” Florence chimed in, her expression one of sudden concern. “Will you drive us out of town?”

  “Calm your tailfeathers.” Wanda answered as she rubbed her chin. “I have no interest in pushing you out of town just like I had no interest in pushing Olga out of town.”

  “Und I zank you for zat,” Olga said.

  Wanda nodded, but her mind seemed elsewhere.

  “Damn it all,” she said as she shook her head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Maybe I will have to form a coven. It’s the only way all three of us can continue to live in the same town.”

  “Und it vould strengthen each of our magic,” Olga said.

  Wanda frowned at her. “That’s debatable.”

  I wasn’t sure if it actually was debatable or if Wanda just didn’t want to form a coven.

  “We don’t know if Betanya would want to be in a coven with you,” Roy pointed out with a shrug, reminding me that he was still there.

  “She might want to take over as High Witch,” I said to Wanda, following Roy’s lead. “I mean, technically she is your senior, and she claimed Sanctum in Haven Hollow long before you ever came here.”

  “And that Sanctum has long since expired,” Wanda responded, propping her hand on her hip and frowning at me. “As far as anyone is concerned—I’ve laid my claim to Haven Hollow.”