Angelo, who was slumped back in his chair with his hands folded over his stomach, and who I’d honestly thought was now taking a nap, spoke up, his voice beyond bored. “It’s probably just kids pulling pranks.”

  “Theft isn’t a prank,” Taliyah snapped.

  “And neither is drawing attention to magic,” Roy said, his comment very much directed at Wanda.

  I winced as Wanda stood, her chair rolling back into the wall behind her. “I told you, you ape man, the bush prank wasn’t the coven. And good luck turning the stupid thing back into a live plant without the aid of any witches, because if you think I’m going to help you after sitting through this crap, you’re dumber than you look.”

  And then she was gone, stalking out the door with Lorcan at her heels. The vampire cast a glare back over his shoulder at Roy before following her out. I was sure he’d pay Roy a visit later—the two had never gotten along.

  Annoyed, and feeling bad for Wanda getting ganged up on, I shot a reproachful look around the table. “Wanda’s magic might be unpredictable,” I admitted. “But she isn’t a liar. If she says it wasn’t her or the other witches in Scapegrace, then it wasn’t.”

  We tried to soldier on after that, to look through more applications and get some things done. But the mood had very much soured, and we only lasted another twenty minutes before we all decided to throw in the towel and try again another night.

  I headed home for the evening, and I couldn’t help but think the streets felt a little darker and colder than usual.

  Chapter Six

  I finished the last layer of noodles in the lasagna and carefully sprinkled a few handfuls of cheese on top of it all.

  Finn was beside me, helping to throw together everything we’d need for a side salad with more enthusiasm than skill. Now all we needed to do was put the pan in the oven and let it cook until it turned into a whole lot of cheesy, saucy goodness.

  Andre was finally home and coming over for dinner, and I wasn’t sure who was more excited, Finn or me. Finn had even volunteered to help me put dinner together, something he never did. Now, all that was left was to get the garlic bread together for a quick toast in order to pair it with the lasagna when it came out of the oven.

  I was in the process of looking for a brush for the garlic butter in one of the cupboards when I realized one of my measuring cups (dedicated only to potions) was in the wrong spot. While I did both cooking and potion making in the kitchen, I had different utensils for both, and I kept them carefully separate. Potions were meant to be worn on the skin, not eaten, so it was important to have separate tools.

  I wasn’t always the most organized person, but I was pretty militant about that one rule—potion equipment in the far left cupboard and regular baking equipment on the right. I wasn’t about to risk Finn’s and my health by using the wrong spoon or bowl. So, finding the measuring cup, the purple one I only used for potions, in the wrong cupboard was definitely worrying.

  “Mom, should I put the dressing on now? Or wait?”

  Finn’s question jerked my attention away, and I closed the cabinet door. “Oh, no, we’ll wait until closer to dinner. We don’t want the lettuce to get all soggy.”

  “Okay,” he said, fidgeting a little with the bottle.

  He’d been distracted ever since he came home from school, and I’d just chalked that distraction up to him being excited about Andre finally being back, but I was starting to think it might be something else. Finn didn’t usually get distracted so easily.

  I gave him a gentle hip check. “What’s up? You seem to be thinking pretty hard about something.”

  He gave me a wilted version of his usual sunny smile. “I’m good. Just thinking about school stuff. No biggie.”

  I nodded and started brushing the garlic butter on the loaf of French bread that I’d cut in half earlier. “Anything in particular on your mind? Maybe I could help?”

  Finn fiddled with the salad bowl, turning it back and forth like it was a worry stone. “Nah. I’m good. It’s nothing.”

  Now, I didn’t have my son’s supernatural ability to tell when someone was lying to me. But I’d given birth to Finn, so my mother senses were definitely tingling. Before I could ask him anything more though, there was a knock on the front door, and Finn’s whole face lit up.

  “Andre’s here!”

  And then he was blazing through the house like a comet, and all I could do was laugh as I trailed along in his wake.

  ***

  Dinner had turned out pretty darn well, if I did say so myself. Even Finn had been focused on eating instead of playing with Ouire or peppering Andre with a million questions. Instead, the three of us happily munched on salad, garlic bread, and lasagna, while Finn washed it down with a Sprite, Andre with a glass of red wine, and me with an iced tea.

  I’d pulled up a chair for Ouire to sit on, with the understanding that he was to keep his pages off the table. I didn’t want to risk him getting tomato sauce on himself, because I had no idea how you would ever clean a magical book. There was probably a Magician spell for it.

  With everything else going on, I hadn’t had time to make a cake or an elaborate dessert, but Andre and Finn seemed to appreciate the chocolate chip cookies I’d baked, so I considered it a win. When the food was gone, Finn finally launched into asking Andre about the shows he’d done, and Andre was happy to answer him. And I was beyond happy to sit there, sipping at my after-dinner tea, as I listened to them both, their voices washing over me like a balm, soothing some of the tension from my neck and shoulders.

  “And, oh, Poppy, you should have seen the birthday girl’s face when I turned a garden stone to gold with your potion.” Andre laughed, a low, rich sound. “I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that!”

  “Then the kids liked Mom’s potion?” Finn asked excitedly.

  Andre nodded as he smiled at me. “I reckon they rather loved it. I actually purchased a few bits of Pyrite from a gem shop, so with a little sleight of hand, the children got to keep their ‘gold treasures’ from the party.”

  I laughed, imagining it. That was the kind of magic I liked best, the kind that brought laughter and joy and made lives a little better.

  “And then,” Andre said, leaning forward like he was telling us a secret. His blue eyes were dancing, the corners of his lips twitching. “Then one of the birthday girl’s guests walked up to me, really quite solemn. She tugged at my sleeve and said, ‘Excuse me, Mister Magician. But can you turn my brother into a kitten?’”

  Finn was hysterical at that and Ouire began bounding around the table, as if echoing Finn’s jubilance. The evening had turned out just as lovely as I’d hoped it would, and everything felt right with Andre back with us.

  An hour or so later, though, I couldn’t help but notice that Finn’s smile was a bit strained.

  “Finn? Is everything okay, buddy?”

  His head jerked up at my question, a slightly guilty look on his face. “Oh, yeah Mom. I’m good.”

  Andre raised a brow in my direction, as if to say he’d noticed Finn acting strangely as well and, in response, all I could do was shrug as subtly as I could so Finn wouldn’t notice. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with Finn, but something definitely was. It was the same expression he’d been wearing earlier, before Andre had returned. I loved being a mom, and Finn was the most important part of my life, but it felt really good to know there was someone else looking out for him, someone else who would try to coax out any problems he might have been having.

  By the time all the cookies were gone, Finn was mostly back to his usual sunny self and he’d decided to work off his dinner by destroying zombies in his newest video game. Andre and I, meanwhile, retired to the living room for an after dinner coffee. While I was in the kitchen, pouring our second round, I heard Finn walk into the living room.

  “Andre?” he asked.

  “Yes?” Andre prompted.

  I quietly walked to the wall separating the living room from the kitchen and watched Finn chew his lower lip, obviously thinking hard. Finally, he blurted out in a rush, “Is it possible to undo a spell?”

  Andre’s brow wrinkled, and he slowly lowered his cup back to its saucer. “What do you mean?”

  His gaze solidly on Ouire, who was standing beside him, Finn stroked a hand along the book’s spine. “Well, once you’ve cast a spell, and it’s out in the world, can you uncast it? Cancel it out? That kind of thing.”

  Andre gave the question some thought. “I don’t know. I suppose it depends on what type of magic is used,” he said slowly. “As far as I know, once cast, the spell exists separate from the one who cast it. And, a Magician’s spells are meant to bring hope to people, so I’ve never really thought about how you’d go about undoing them.”

  That clearly wasn’t the answer he was looking for, going by the way Finn’s face dropped.

  “Why do you ask?” I said as I walked back into the living room, carrying two cups of coffee.

  “Oh, I was just curious,” Finn answered, rather evasively. “I was just thinking about some of the spells the coven does and I just wondered if they could ever undo them.”

  “I imagine Wanda could,” I said as I cocked my head to the side and thought about it. “Or maybe she’d just create another spell to cancel the first one?”

  “Could we do the same?” Finn asked Andre. “With our Magician magic?”

  “You mean like a Magicless spell?” Andre asked.

  I fought back a shudder at the mention of the dark magicians. While Magicians like Finn and Andre used their powers to bring hope to people and make the world a better place, their evil counterpart, the Magicless, were those who had lost all hope and allowed it to make them bitter and cruel. One had infiltrated Finn’s school, attempting to break him and turn him dark too, but we’d managed to stop her.

  “No, nothing like that.” Flustered, Finn took a deep breath.

  “Is everything okay, Finn?” I asked.

  He looked at me and nodded. “It’s pretty late, Mom. I should probably go to bed.”

  “Where is my son and what have you done with him?” I asked on a laugh, because Finn never willingly went to bed on time. He was always begging me for one more hour.

  He gave me a quick smile and then started for the stairs, before turning around and calling out, “Goodnight, Andre. Night, Mom.”

  Ouire’s tail drooped, and I blinked in surprise as Finn’s feet disappeared up the stairs.

  Andre turned back to me, concerned. “Is everything alright? Did I say something to upset him?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s been gushing nonstop this whole week about you coming home.” I squeezed Andre’s shoulder as I slipped past him. “I’m just going to go check on him. I’ll be right back.”

  His smile had all the reassurance I needed. “Of course.”

  Finn was changed, with teeth and hair brushed and all ready for bed by the time I made it up the stairs to his bedroom. He’d just slipped under the covers, and tugged them up to his chin like he used to when he was just a little guy, when he’d had a bad dream and wanted to hide.

  “Hey, pookey,” I said, calling him by his childhood nickname, as I padded softly across the room. “I just wanted to say goodnight and tuck you in.”

  He was tense, his narrow shoulders rigid beneath his sheets. “I’m too old to be tucked in.”

  “Too old?” I hummed like I was considering it while I smoothed out his comforter and sat on the edge of his bed. “I might agree to that in a few years. Let’s say when you’re thirty-five.”

  “Thirty-five? That’s way more than a few years!”

  I laughed. “You can tuck yourself in then, but in the meantime, it’s my job. Deal?”

  He rolled his eyes at me, but at least he was smiling and looked a bit more relaxed. I just sat on his bed for another few seconds, allowing the quiet to echo between us, before I played the part of concerned mom. “Finn. Is everything alright? You don’t seem yourself lately.”

  He started chewing his lower lip, and I had to stomp down my instinct to tell him to stop. Something was clearly bothering him, but he didn’t seem to want to bring it up. Pushing wasn’t the way, I knew that. It would just irritate him, or make him defensive, but I had to ask yet again. I hated to see him struggling with something.

  I smoothed his hair back from his forehead with my palm. “You know you can talk to me, right? You can tell me anything.”

  Finn closed his eyes and took a deep breath that shuddered on the way in. He smiled at me when he opened his eyes again, going for reassuring but not quite getting there. “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. Everything is fine. I just have a heavy load at school and some of my classes are stressing me out a little.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying not to show how worried I was. “Well, if you need help, you’ll let me know?”

  “I don’t know that you’ll be able to help me with my algebra, Mom,” he said on a laugh.

  “Okay, so maybe go to Andre for that, but I can help you with everything else,” I answered on a laugh. “Anyway... sleep tight, buddy, and... don’t let the bedbugs bite!” Then I reached out and tickled him and he gave me a look like he wasn’t impressed.

  “Mom, I’m seriously way too old for tickling.”

  “Oh, excuse me!” I said, feigning affront. I stood up and pretended to leave but then rounded on him and, grabbing his foot, tickled the bottom of it as he erupted into laughter.

  “Okay, Mom!” he called out in between peals of laughter. “Uncle, Mom! Uncle!”

  I released his foot then, and he immediately pulled it back under the covers as he smiled up at me.

  “Goodnight, Finn,” I said as I pressed my luck and kissed his forehead. Finn gave a sleepy, good-natured grumble, and when I hit the light switch on my way out of the room, I looked back, only to find him smiling at me.

  Chapter Seven

  Even with worry for Finn hanging over my head like a little dark rain cloud, I couldn’t help but be in a great mood the next day.

  Andre had remained after dinner, helping me clean up plates and glasses, before giving me a very sweet kiss at the door as he headed home for the evening. It had left me all rosy warm and humming inside for the rest of the night. And, yes, I’d debated asking him to stay for the night, but somehow it didn’t feel right yet. And I didn’t want to rush things. I wanted to cherish the experience of each step of our courtship (such an old-fashioned word, but that’s what it felt like between the two of us). I wanted to savor each little step, never feeling as if I’d rushed any part of it.

  Finn had been a bit subdued when I’d dropped him off at school in the morning, but he’d still chatted happily about his friends and some plans they were working on. And he was still clearly thrilled that Andre was back, so whatever his problem was, it probably didn’t have to do with Andre. Maybe it was nothing more than just school stress. I hoped that was all it was.

  Maybe after I closed the store for the night, I’d take Finn to Stomper’s Creamery for an ice cream Sunday to see if I could coax out whatever was upsetting him. Everything went down better with ice cream, and with the cooler weather, the place wasn’t usually packed like it was in the summer months, so we’d have a bit of privacy.

  Things were hopping at Poppy’s Potions, so at least I didn’t have much time to dwell on the worry gnawing at my gut. I was too busy helping customers, refilling stock, and taking inventory of my supplies.

  It wasn’t just my store, either, that was going through a major bump in business. All of Main Street seemed to have a crowd filing in and out, and not just the stores and restaurants. The street itself was packed, to the point that auto traffic was backing up.

  It was a bit early still for these kinds of tourist crowds—Halloween was still weeks away, but maybe the town had some kind of event going on that I hadn’t heard about? I’d been pretty busy, so unless it was a council planned event, I’d probably missed it.

  There wasn’t any time to dwell on it, as I had customers to see to, including a woman a few years older than I was in a tuxedo cat sweater with lime green framed glasses, who seemed to be trying to buy out my entire stock. Multiple potions filled her basket along with twelve or so dreamcatchers and the biggest beeswax candles already anointed for dreams and pleasant sleep. She was going to town, and I was quite happy to help her do it.

  When she finally ran out of steam, and possibly breath, she plonked the two wicker baskets down on the counter with a wide grin. I reached behind the counter to retrieve the other two she’d left there for safe keeping. All were to the point of overflowing.

  My own grin was pretty wide as I plugged each purchase into my ancient cash register. My potions weren’t exactly pricey. Wanda constantly berated me for undervaluing them and myself, but this woman was still purchasing more than any single person ever had—as in, she was buying them by the armload. And that meant the relatively frugal cost of each added up quickly, especially when paired with the pillar candles and the dreamcatchers.

  There was a happy chirp in my voice when I gave the customer the total.

  “Okay, how does this work?” She fished around in her pocket for a bit. “I give you these, and you can make change?”

  I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “Here,” she said happily, laying out three gold-coated leaves on my counter—like something you might wear on a chain as a necklace.

  Now, I’d had some very interesting attempts at bartering as a way to pay for my potions in the past, especially from some of the older supernatural types in the Hollow who just couldn’t seem to grasp a fungible economy. Fae could be the worst, and once I’d been offered a pure white cow for some candles. What would I even do with a cow? Thank goodness Finn hadn’t found out about that one.

  Gold leaves were a first, though.

  I wasn’t insulted. I’d had some argumentative tourists in the past, who’d come in skeptics, not believing what my potions could do. This particular lady didn’t seem to be one of them, though. She seemed genuinely delighted with everything in my shop, so it was hard to get in a snit over it. The other reason this whole situation didn’t make me angry, was because all three leaves were made out of solid gold.