“What do you want, Darla?” I snapped, angry she’d startled me and still angry she’d been a nuisance last night. Mostly I was just grumpy because I hadn’t slept and everyone had seen me before I was ready to be seen.

  Darla kept her eyes sheepishly on the ground, unusually contrite. I didn’t trust her for a second. She was a consummate actress, and she usually reserved the kicked puppy routine when she wanted something… big. Last time she’d pulled this skit, she’d wanted me to allow her to stay in this house (she’d hitchhiked from the LA house to this one by attaching herself to a pencil case).

  “I just came to apologize,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to break your potion, honest, I didn’t. You’d ah thought I was zozzled.” ‘Zozzled’ meant drunk. “I didn’t know it would bring something into the house, honest, I didn’t.”

  I paused, still struggling with the jeans. I’d managed to hoist them over my hips and was forcing the button to snap when she’d dropped her little bombshell.

  “What?” I started, staring at her hard. “There’s something in the house?”

  My mind flashed immediately to Frank, Darla’s ex-lover and the bane of Finn’s existence.

  Please God, don’t let it be Frank, I thought to myself, hoping and praying such wasn’t the case.

  But, there was no way… it was impossible for Frank to return. I’d exorcised him from the LA house, and there was no way he could come back.

  Darla twined her fingers together, keeping her eyes on her nail beds. She breathed out for a count of three and then breathed back in for a count of three, before looking up at me and pouting. Her smile was wobbly, ready to drop off her face.

  “I can’t do nothin’ right.”

  “Darla, what is in the house?” I demanded. “A ghost?”

  She nodded, but then paused. “I think so, but, whatever it was, it was only in the house for a second or two before it blew right on out!”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Sure as I am that the last time I saw the big house was from a Gooseberry lay.”

  I shook my head because I had no idea what she was talking about. The ‘big house’ meant jail, but…

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, the last time I saw the inside of a caboose, it was ‘cause me an’ this dame named Jenny were out stealin’ clothes from a clothesline—that’s what I meant by a ‘Gooseberry lay’,” she started, shaking her head as she held up her hands. “You gotta understand, times were tough. An’ Jenny… well, she weren’t no good influence on me neither…”

  Good thing for Darla she’s already dead, I thought, all the while trying to calm myself down. Just breathe, Poppy, just breathe.

  “Darla, I don’t care. Talk to me about the ghost. You’re sure it’s gone from the house?”

  She nodded. “Cross my heart. You ain’t gotta worry that pretty little head o’ yours none. That ghosty went right out the window the second you closed it.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t like the idea of a spook dropping in for a visit, even if it was temporary. Though most ghosts were trapped at the location where they died, some were migratory. But those who could move from location to location were seriously powerful. It wasn’t an easy feat to leave the place where death tethered you. No, the power involved in doing so was nearing witch-levels of magic. Most spirits couldn’t manage to cross into a home uninvited, even for a few seconds. The threshold of a home kept out most negative spirits and magic. And my home should have been even more difficult to enter because I’d warded the place with protection potions and crystals, for exactly this reason.

  So, how was this even possible?

  Could the ghost have been sent by Wanda? I was immediately ashamed with myself that I’d even thought the words. Just because Wanda wasn’t exactly friendly didn’t mean she was trying to plague me with ghosts.

  Don’t forget she’s a witch and she probably wants you out of here.

  She also came to Haven Hollow to find a better life for herself, just like you did. So, give the woman a break.

  Regardless, without a significant power base to build on, like a coven, Wanda could only draw magic from her environment. That was still a lot of magic, true. She was a witch, after all. More than that, she was a Blood Witch—a witch whose magic was tainted and unpredictable. But trying to do big magic without her coven would be too difficult, even for Wanda.

  So, whatever this thing was… if it could enter my house...

  I shuddered. This was bad. Very bad.

  “What in the heck did you put in that potion that woulda brought a ghosty in?” Darla insisted.

  I shook my head. “It couldn’t have been the potion.”

  She looked at me, one eyebrow drawn. “I ain’t tryin’ to argue none with you, but the second that potion hit the floor, the window blew wide open.”

  “Right,” I said, nodding as I remembered the particulars. “The Mystic Veil might have been responsible for blowing the window open, but it wasn’t responsible for summoning whatever that… ghost was.”

  “So, what does that mean?”

  “It means the ghost was already outside… lurking. The potion just gave it a way in.”

  “So why wouldn’t the ghosty have come in before? Like when you opened your front door any o’ the thousands o’ times you have?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, shrugging because it was a good question. I looked up at Darla and took a deep breath. I hated having questions with no answers. “Keep an eye on the house,” I said, idly stroking the silver locket around my neck.

  The locket depicted a pair of apple-cheeked cherubs wrapped around each other, engaged in an ardent liplock. It was Darla’s means of traveling outside the house because there was a piece of the pencil case on which she’d attached herself within the locket. That way, if Darla had to alert me to something, she could.

  I kneaded my temples, trying to ward off the headache I could feel forming. It was Christmas. I should not have to deal with this, on top of the usual trials my relatives posed.

  “Can do,” Darla said, giving me a solemn salute.

  “And don’t tell Finn,” I warned her, tugging on my emerald blouse as I started buttoning it. “If you ruin Christmas for him, I’ll find an industrial strength shop vac that will make the Hoover look like a dream. Got it?”

  Darla shuddered. Yes, it might have seemed like the threat was going overboard, but Darla had a big mouth and the last thing I wanted was Finn freaking out about yet another thing that went bump in the night.

  “Got it,” she said.

  I nodded as I checked my reflection. The blouse gapped a little, the buttons screaming around my cleavage, but it wasn’t anything a safety pin couldn’t fix, and the jeans didn’t look half as tight as I feared.

  “Today is going to be a good day, Poppy,” I said as I looked at the doubt in my reflected eyes. “Today has to be a good day.”

  My reflection did not look convinced.

  Chapter Four

  “What do you mean, no one’s seen them?” Roy asked in what I thought was supposed to be a furtive whisper. He was standing in the corner of the foyer, with one finger in his ear and his phone held up to the other one.

  If he was trying to be unobtrusive, I had bad news for him. His voice carried over the sounds of my uncle’s heckling in the living room. His would-be private conversation was audible to anyone who might have been attempting to listen. Well, anyone outside of the living room, that is.

  I paused in the hallway as soon as I walked out of my bedroom. I’d been planning on getting the coffee going and then I had to glaze the Christmas ham, but now I wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like I’d meant to eavesdrop but... when someone says something like that, how can you not listen?

  “I mean, no one has seen them since the Winter Solstice,” Ophelia answered, her crotchety voice carrying up the stairs. Ophelia was the head of the preternatural creatures council in Haven Hollow, and she was a piece of work and then some.

  “This is bad,” Roy answered, sighing into the phone. “Tell me again what happened?”

  “Shelby Stomper was building snowmen with her step-daughters four days ago. She went inside to grab a few carrots to make the noses, and when she came back, the children were gone. Poof. Not a trace of them anywhere.”

  Oh my God, I thought. That poor, poor woman. And Stanley!

  I couldn’t bear to think what they were going through.

  “And no one has seen them since?”

  “Right.”

  My heart skipped a beat and then resumed double time, cold fear tracing a finger down my spine. I wasn’t sure why, but my immediate first thought was of the spirit entering the house when the window had blown open. Usually, paranormal things didn’t exist in a vacuum—they were followed by more paranormal things. And children were the first targets of a haunting, mainly because they were the easiest to target.

  Children were more sensitive to the supernatural on a whole and less capable of defending themselves. Most magical abilities didn’t even express fully until the user reached his or her teens. Finn would grow into his powers, though he’d never have as much ability as a female gypsy or a witch. He had just enough power to get himself into trouble, but not enough to get himself out of it.

  “Has anyone checked the woods?” Roy asked. “The Stompers live right beside a forest.”

  “Of course,” Ophelia answered in her condescending tone that was like fingernails on a chalkboard. “So far, we’ve brought in a few werewolves to reconnoiter the place and Lorcan. They attempted to sniff the girls out with their advanced sense of smell. But, no good. It’s as if the girls… simply disappeared.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “So it would seem.”

  Roy paused for a moment. “How is Stanley?”

  “Both Stanley and Shelby are frantic, as is to be expected.”

  “Has anyone alerted the human police?” Roy demanded, voicing the question I also wanted answered.

  “We’ve been good about keeping everything under wraps,” Ophelia answered, her tone clipped and short—as if she had things handled and was irritated he’d asked.

  Under wraps? I thought, my anger growing. I couldn’t stand Ophelia on the best of days but this…

  “And Shelby hasn’t asked to get them involved?”

  “No, she knows the rules. Supernatural business needs to remain in the supernatural community. We can’t afford to let this get out. Besides, what would she tell the police? That her step-daughters are missing and they’re this many hands tall, with four legs? One’s a Cleveland Bay and the other’s a Palomino?’” Ophelia scoffed.

  “I get the point, Ophelia,” Roy grumbled.

  The honest truth was I didn’t think he liked her any more than I did, but he was forced to deal with her because he was the second in command in the council.

  “What about the girls’ teachers and the pupils at school?” he asked. “Won’t they notice the girls are missing?”

  “No,” Ophelia insisted. “The girls have been home schooled all their lives, owing to their… condition.”

  Roy chuckled at that. “Their condition… as in the fact that they’re centaurs?”

  “That’s correct.”

  He took another deep breath and shook his head, as though dealing with Ophelia was painful.

  “Poppy’s Confusion Oil might allow the girls to play at the park now and then, but it won’t allow them to interact with the public for any length of time,” Ophelia added.

  “Then word still hasn’t spread from the supernatural side of Haven Hollow? No humans have been asking questions and neither have the police?”

  Ophelia paused for a moment. “I have heard the human ghost hunter has been nosing around and he might know or suspect something.”

  “Marty?” Roy whispered into the phone, this time being extra careful his voice didn’t travel because Marty was still sitting in the living room with RJ and Henner… well, as far as I knew.

  “Right,” Ophelia answered.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about Marty opening his mouth.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because he’s sworn to secrecy, as you’re well aware.”

  “As long as he abides by the contract.”

  “I don’t see him breaking it.”

  “If he’s smart, he won’t.”

  “He doesn’t strike me as stupid.”

  “On that subject, we have differing opinions.”

  God, I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. How she’d managed to retain her position as head of the council was a questionable subject, considering no one liked her. Yet, I suppose being council head wasn’t really a popularity contest…

  “It doesn’t seem like we’ve done or are doing enough to find the girls,” Roy continued, his tone of voice like steel. “There has to be something else we can do.”

  Ophelia sighed and sounded put-out and impatient when she spoke again. “You know how these things have to go, Roy. We need to keep this whole situation under wraps. We can’t let the human population know what’s going on.” She paused. “And that means you don’t breathe a word of this to that gypsy girlfriend of yours.”

  Excuse me? I seethed.

  Not breathe a word of this? Just who did she think she was?

  I felt my breath catch in my throat and my heart started to pound. How dare she make such a request! That should have been his decision, not hers!

  “I’m well aware of that, Ophelia,” Roy said, and his words sounded like acid.

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Roy was agreeing with her? He was agreeing to keep this from me? Something this important?! Something I could help with? No, I wasn’t exactly a member of the supernatural Haven Hollow community, but I also wasn’t purely human. I possessed magic and as such, I walked the line. Regardless, I could help them. At least, I thought I could. I wasn’t surprised to know Ophelia didn’t trust me, but Roy? My own boyfriend?

  Don’t jump to conclusions. The reasonable voice in my head sounded conspicuously like my mother. Maybe Roy is still planning on telling you, but just wants to wait for the right moment. I’m sure he doesn’t want to ruin Christmas. Not to mention everyone’s still here, so it’s not like he can tell you now…

  That was a good point. Now I just had to give Roy enough time and space to come to me because he had to know I could help.

  “Hey, Roy!” Finn called to him as he appeared in the foyer and Roy nearly dropped his phone. He held it away from him and turned to face my son, who was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses.

  “What’s up, Finn?” he asked.

  “Guess what RJ got me?”

  Roy looked at the glasses. “A pair of aviator sunglasses?”

  “Not just any sunglasses!” Finn responded as he shook his head. “These are special sunglasses that can detect BigFoot!”

  “You don’t say,” Roy answered with a wide grin.

  Finn nodded repeatedly. “RJ told me BigFoots can actually hide from humans ‘cause they’ve got some sort of… cloaking ability, I think he called it. But with these glasses, we should be able to see them through the trees!”

  I couldn’t help my smile as Roy chuckled. “That sounds pretty darn cool,” he said. “You about ready to open my present?”

  “Sure am!”

  With that, Finn wheeled around and ran back into the living room.

  “Listen, I’ve gotta go,” Roy said as he held the phone back up to his ear.

  Then he hung up with Ophelia and turned around, his heavy footsteps echoing through the house as he started for the living room. I pulled away from the wall outside my bedroom and tried to will my heart to calm down. Gripping the banister at the top of the stairs, I took a few deep breaths, and started down the stairs, my heart still in my throat.

  ***

  The Next Day

  While Finn was playing with his Christmas presents upstairs, Marty, Henner and I were sitting in my living room, where we were discussing the missing children. I kept looking up the staircase, to make sure Finn wasn’t going to surprise us and overhear anything he shouldn’t. But by the sounds of Uncle Joey and Uncle Tobias laughing and cheering him on, I was fairly sure they were all playing Fortnite.

  “Wow,” Henner said as soon as I explained everything I’d overheard from Roy’s conversation with Ophelia.

  Marty and I were sworn to secrecy from exposing supernatural information to the human population of Haven Hollow, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t discuss it amongst ourselves. And Henner, gifted with his own abilities and a descendent of a witch, knew the town and the townspeople like the back of his hand, which made him valuable to this case, as far as I was concerned.

  Roy still hadn’t volunteered what was going on, and to say I was frustrated was an understatement.

  “There must be something we can do,” Marty said.

  “As long as Ophelia runs the committee, we have to do things her way,” Henner argued, shaking his head as he breathed out a long sigh. “I don’t like it either, but that’s the way things go. If you want to petition for further action, you have to go to her.”

  “Ophelia hates me,” Marty answered.

  “And she’s not exactly fond of me either,” I added.

  Henner nodded as he looked from me to Marty. “Right. I think she’d sooner wear your skin as a belt than let you have any say in the affairs of the supernatural community. You’re a human mundane, and not technically supposed to know about any of this.”

  “Okay, what about you?” I asked, facing Henner.

  He shook his head. “I doubt she’ll take any suggestions from me, either. I’m the next best thing to human, though my witch blood elevates me from bottom feeder to regular old pond scum in her eyes.”

  Marty’s mouth stretched into a smile, but there was no real humor in it. Behind the brilliant blue of his eyes, however, the cogs were beginning to spin, his big, business-oriented brain trying to churn out a solution to the problem.

  “I’m going to go over there and give her a piece of my mind,” he said. “Someone really needs to stand up to her, and if I have to become a lampshade in Ophelia’s living room before anyone does something, so be it.”