There were branches above me suddenly, and snow under my back. I realized between one slow blink and the next that I was on the ground, but I didn’t remember falling.

  The fae who’d hit me stepped closer, its pale face twisted into a sneer as it stood over me. More icy blue power twisted around its hands like frozen fog. I heard Wanda scream, a sound full of absolute fury, and a storm of dark energy blasted over my head to slam into the fae and send the thing flying. I caught a glimpse of Wanda as she came closer. She was wreathed in scarlet and black energy, her long dark hair dancing on the wind of her own power. It was easy to forget sometimes, when she was slumped at my kitchen table lamenting this or that, but Wanda was a High Witch, and that had never been more apparent than it was at this very moment.

  I opened my mouth to tell her I was okay, not to be angry, that I’d be fine. But all I could get out was a shaky exhale.

  My breath didn’t fog on the air and that wasn’t a good sign.

  Then the cold tide climbed up and over my head and pulled me down into a freezing cold lake of total darkness.

  I didn’t even have a chance to be afraid.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Everything hurt.

  My whole body ached, like I had the flu or something. Even my gums and hair hurt, which I didn’t think was even possible, but there it was. It took me two tries to pry my eyes open. And when I finally did, my lashes felt gummy, like they’d been closed for a long time.

  I lay there for a moment, staring at a very familiar crack in the left-hand corner of the room’s ceiling. How many mornings and nights had I looked at that little flaw in the plaster and made a mental note to fix it whenever I had a chance? Many, many times.

  I was in my bedroom, in my own bed, but I didn’t remember how I’d gotten here.

  Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember much. There were some jumbled memories about something cold and piercing, so cold that it ached and burned at the same time. My hand trembled when I lifted it to my head.

  “Thank Tituba, you’re finally awake.”

  I turned my head to the sound of Wanda’s voice and found her glaring at me.

  “If you ever do something so stupid and reckless again, I will hex you into next week,” she said, her voice frostier than the snow I could see outside my window.

  I turned my head to the other side, and the movement was way more difficult than it should have been. My neck muscles were trembly and weak, and the motion felt like trying to balance an ostrich egg on a teaspoon. If I hadn’t been propped up by a pillow, I wasn’t sure I could have managed it at all.

  “Poppy?” Wanda said as I turned to face her again and she wore her worry in her gaze. “Do you understand the words coming from my mouth?”

  “Yes,” I managed. “I’m not deaf.”

  “I was more worried that blasted ice nuisance had turned you into a vegetable.” Then she eyed me with amusement. “That awful creature is dead, by the way—I made certain of that.”

  Wanda sat at my bedside, her arms crossed over her chest, leg over the opposite knee as she bounced her foot in irritation. The killer heel on her boots made the gesture look like a threat. My witch BFF appeared ready for battle in her tailored slacks and deep purple blouse. Even her make-up was aggressive, all strong lines and dramatic eyes. She glared at me in silence, her lips pressed into a flat line.

  “Um, Wanda?” I asked, my voice coming out gravelly. “What… what are you doing here?”

  “Saving your little, gypsy ass! That’s what I’m doing here!”

  It took me a moment for my memory to catch up and then the images began flooding my mind like they were on fast forward. The faerie circle. Lady Evergreen. The fight. A bolt of ice meant for Taliyah. I winced and pressed a hand to my shoulder, but other than the slight ache of overworked muscles, there was no pain. I glanced over at the exact area where I’d felt the fae’s icicle break my skin but there was nothing there—not even a scratch.

  Wanda hummed, her eyes following my gaze even as her body remained stiff and still. “Yes, you’re very lucky. After that little bastard fired that ice missile at you, I managed to get you back here quickly, and between our line of medical potions and bandages, Andre, and Finn’s healing ability, you’re still alive.”

  “Finn?” My voice came out in another dry croak, because my mouth was suddenly as parched as a desert. I swallowed twice, trying to work up some saliva, but my tongue felt like sandpaper.

  Wanda heaved a huge sigh, like I was the biggest imposition in the world, and reached to my bedside table for the glass of water and straw already sitting there.

  The first touch of water against my tongue was sheer bliss.

  “Finn is fine,” Wanda said and threw her hands up into the air in obvious frustration. “Of course, he’s fine! As if I would let anything happen to him. Please.”

  I drank until the cup was empty and did my best to push it back onto the table without dropping it on the floor. Wanda rolled her eyes, but took it from me with surprisingly gentle hands and set the glass down with a light click. Then she leaned over me until her face was only inches from mine.

  “Poppy, don’t you ever come this close to dying again or as Hecuba is my witness… I will kill you myself.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think that sounds like what you meant it to sound like.”

  “Oh, it’s exactly what I meant it to sound like.” Then she breathed out a long, pent-up sigh. “You about gave me a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Wanda frowned at me before resuming her seated position and the nonstop bobbing of one leg.

  Feeling a little less like death warmed over (or cooled over, in my case), I settled back against my pillow. “What happened? After I–”

  “After you threw yourself in the way of a winter fae’s attack like some dimwitted heroine in some stupid afterschool special?” Wanda gave me a scathing look, her eyebrow lifted in a lethal arch. I was accustomed to this sort of anger from her—it was her way of showing how much she cared. If you came too close to death and she actually gave a rat’s ass about you, Wanda got angry. Very angry.

  “Yeah, after I did that.” I couldn’t help my smile because I had to admit, I found her amusing.

  She pointed to me and threw her hands into the air. “This! This is what happened.”

  “And Taliyah? Is she okay?”

  She further frowned at me. “Taliyah is the next Queen of Winter,” she said, like she was explaining something rudimentary to a particularly slow toddler. “She is exponentially more difficult to kill than you are. And she had the Prince of Autumn protecting her. And who the hell was protecting you?”

  “You?”

  “Right! Me! Only I didn’t know I needed to be protecting you or I would have done a damn better job of it!” She shook her head and that fuming look was back in her eyes as her knee started bobbing double-time.

  I gave her a big smile. “Wanda, it’s okay.”

  “What’s okay?” she nearly shouted at me.

  “It’s okay to care about me and to be afraid.”

  She paused for a moment, as if trying to understand what I was getting at. Then she got it. “I don’t do emotional—you know that.”

  I gave her another big grin, and she refused to look at me, instead inspecting her nails but I could see the smile that was wrestling with her full lips.

  “So… are you going to tell me what happened, or not?” I asked.

  She stared at me long enough that I started to worry she might actually not tell me, but then she sank back into her chair with a huff.

  “Well, after your dramatic save, the rest of our more battle-ready neighbors managed to break through the line of faeries in town. Roy and Andre led the charge, so to speak, and their arrival forced Lady Evergreen and her lackeys to retreat.”

  “Then the circle—”

  “The circle prison holding Janara still stands.”

  I let out a breath I’d forgotten I was holding. “Janara’s still imprisoned?” Wanda nodded. “And everyone else is okay?”

  Wanda hesitated, and my blood pressure skyrocketed as I tried to sit up but she forced me back down again. “Easy there, tiger.” I nodded as she took a deep breath. “Taliyah did get hurt. She isn’t very well versed with faerie duels and magical combat. But Fox took her back to Faerie briefly so she could get treatment for her wounds. She’s back home already, and she’s fine—probably better than you are.” She gave me that annoyed expression again.

  I sagged back against the pillows. “Good. I’m glad she’s okay…” Then something occurred to me. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  Wanda pursed her lips. “Almost two days.”

  I squawked. “How long?”

  Wanda smiled, poisonously sweet. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re no spring chicken. Your body needed time to recover.”

  “But, what about Finn? And my shop?” I tried to push myself up onto my arms but only made it about halfway before I sagged back against the headboard again. Even that little bit of effort left me feeling tired and a bit shaky.

  “Relax, will you? Gods, you’re like a coked-out hamster on a wheel.”

  “Wanda, is everything with the shop and Finn alright?”

  She rolled her eyes and flipped up one of her fingers, the deep purple nail polish glinting in the light. “I left a sign on the front of your store saying you were traveling for a couple of days. Marty has been picking up Finn, taking him to school, and getting him home. Astrid’s been coming over every day to make sure he gets his homework done and Andre’s been over a few times too, with that weird book that acts more like a dog.”

  “Andre?”

  Wanda looked at me. “Yeah, the dreamboat you won’t admit you’re in love with.”

  I felt my mouth drop open. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. We’re just… friends.” I cleared my throat.

  Wanda gave me a smile that would frighten most people. “Right. And I’m a cuddly housewife.”

  “Anyway,” I started. “Andre is still… in Haven Hollow?”

  “Yeah,” she answered in a ‘duh’ tone. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “And he’s been here—at my house?”

  She looked at me. “You must have hit your head on the way down.”

  “Did Andre… meet Marty then?” I wasn’t sure why but that thought left me feeling a little hollow on the inside—like it was something that had to happen, of course, but I wanted to be there when it did.

  “Do I look like the keeper of Marty’s social calendar?”

  “No.”

  “Right so don’t ask me questions I can’t answer.” Wanda then opened her mouth to say something more when there was a knock at my bedroom door.

  She stiffened, eyeing the door like it was a snake that might bite, and I realized she wasn’t just sitting here to fill me in as I woke up, but she was sitting guard. Against what? I wasn’t really sure. Probably just to make sure I was on the mend.

  Oh, she’d deny it. She might even hex me if I suggested she was worried about me, but underneath that ambitious, hard-edged, impeccably dressed exterior, there was a gooey emotional center. If you were one of the people privileged enough to get to see it, that is.

  After staring at the door for a long moment, and muttering a spell under her breath, the tension went out of Wanda’s shoulders as the door swung itself open to reveal Finn on the other side.

  My heart gave a painful twist, because Finn looked pale, upset, and worried. His eyes were red at the rims, and the smudges under his eyes were dark as shadows. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping and any sleep he had gotten wasn’t restful.

  “Finn,” I whispered, and held my arms out towards him.

  Finn made a choked sound and ran the few steps between us, grabbing onto me so hard, I thought he might knock me right out of the bed.

  “Mom.” His voice wobbled a little, but he smiled. “You’re awake.”

  “I’m awake.”

  Wanda stood up with an audible sniff and then refused to look at either of us—I had a feeling she was close to tears and that was a state she wouldn’t want anyone to witness. “Well, this smells like it’s going to get emotional, so I’ll leave you both to it.” She waved her fingers at us over her shoulder and pulled the door closed behind herself.

  “Are you okay, Mom? How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Finn tried to simultaneously fluff the pillows propping me up and slide onto the bed with me just like he’d done when he was a little boy and a nightmare had awakened him in the middle of the night.

  I scooted over to make room for him. “I’m okay. Really. I promise.”

  Finn tucked in close. He was quiet for a while before he said, “Marty said he wanted to come up to see you after I saw you first.”

  “Is Marty here?”

  Finn shook his head. “He went out to get something for us to eat, but said he’d be back in a little bit.”

  I swallowed hard and smiled at Finn. “He’s a good man.”

  Finn nodded but didn’t say anything and it took me a minute to realize that something was on his mind.

  I frowned, rubbing my hand down his arm. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

  I could see the bob of his throat when he swallowed. The longer he went without looking in my direction, the more alarmed I felt.

  “Are you mad at me?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  I blinked twice, not fully understanding his question. And the sleepy cobwebs still clogging my brain weren’t helping. But Finn’s distress was real, that much was obvious.

  “Mad at you?” I gave him a one-armed hug. It was the best I could do while lying against a small mountain of pillows. “Finn, why on earth would I be mad at you?”

  He ducked his chin towards his chest, using the fall of his blond hair to hide his expression from me. “I helped Andre heal you. I know you don’t like it when I do that, but I was really worried, and you were just so pale and cold. I couldn’t just not do it.”

  “Of course, I’m not mad at you, Finn.” I tilted his chin up so he was forced to look at me. “I appreciate what you did for me so, so much.”

  “Andre showed me how to heal you without hurting myself,” he continued, seeming reenergized.

  “I’m glad he was able to teach you that.” I reached out and squeezed his shoulders until he leaned down and gave me another hug. “I’m really proud of you, Finn,” I whispered, feeling tears stinging my eyes.

  He looked surprised enough that my heart gave a painful twist. “But… you always get so mad when I do magic.”

  “Because I worry about you. I’m afraid of what will happen to you if you overexert yourself. And it’s not because I don’t think you’re capable,” I kept talking, even when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “I’m your mom and that’s just what moms do—we worry. And even though you aren’t so little anymore, you’ll always be my little guy, and I’m always, always going to worry about you.”

  Finn glanced down at his hands, a little frown line between his brows, like he was thinking hard.

  I shifted a bit, to relieve an ache in my back. “Finn, the truth is, you have a ton of power. And it’s a power that could get you hurt, and I don’t ever want that to happen. I don’t like seeing you drain yourself down to nothing, trying to heal other people.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “But the opposite of that is also true.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that… you’re my mom and I worry about you just as much as you worry about me,” he said with a pointed glance at where I was still lying in bed—as if this situation was the exact point he was trying to illustrate. “It worries me, how often you get hurt helping other people in this town. I get why you do it, but it can be scary because sometimes I think you aren’t going to wake up.”

  My breath caught in my throat, all tangled up with the painful throb of my heart. I could see the shadow of sleepless nights and too many tears in my son’s face. Since we’d moved to Haven Hollow, I had gotten hurt, too many times. The run in with Roscoe had been the worst. I was still surprised I’d survived that one.

  A memory teased at the edge of my mind, just a flash, like the glimmer of silver fish scales at the surface of a dark pond. Someone telling me to fight, that I couldn’t give up—that I had too much to live for. I reached for the memory, but it slipped through my grasp like fog.

  It didn’t matter. Finn was what was important at the moment.

  “You’re right.” I took his hand, linking our fingers together.

  Finn gave me a surprised look, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me correctly.

  I gave his hand a little squeeze. “I see your point—it’s a double standard.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to get my pulse back under control. “I will try to be safer, Finn.”

  “And?” he asked with a pleading smile.

  “And, I’ll do my best to trust you when you say you can handle something.”

  His smile was a shy one, slowly curling up the corners of his mouth.

  “However.” I leaned forward, bumping our shoulders together. “Sometimes, I will go a little angry mama bear because I worry about you because I love you so, so, so much. There isn’t much I can do to change that.”

  Finn rolled his eyes in the way teenagers everywhere had perfected but then reached over and gave me another hug, this time resting his head on my chest like he used to do when I’d read him a bedtime story.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, nibbles,” I said, calling him by the name I’d always called him. This time he didn’t correct me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  One Week Later

  It was Thanksgiving Day, and I’d been busy cooking up a storm.

  That storm included a turkey, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry dressing—enough to feed upwards of fifteen people—all my friends who were on their way to spend Thanksgiving dinner with Finn and me.