“Well, maybe you should ask Roy what he wants to do? He’d probably like to stay home instead of putting on a performance for the whole town too.”

  I nodded, but then sighed. “I’m just not sure if Roy and I… have a future.”

  “Just because you’ve been arguing?”

  I shook my head. “There’s more to it.”

  “What more to it?”

  “Are you sure you want to listen to this?” I asked, trying to give her another out. “I know you hate anything slightly emotional.”

  “While that is true, I am trying to learn how to be a nicer person…” I smiled at that. Whatever Wanda was or wasn’t, she was definitely amusing. “And, I have to admit, your love life going to pieces is quite… interesting.” I gave her a look and she shrugged. “Hey, I’m just being honest.”

  “Anyway, getting back to your question… Roy is only middle-aged for a sasquatch and he’ll live a lot longer than I will.”

  “Oh, come on!” Wanda chided. “You aren’t that old, and it’s not like you’re going to die anytime soon. I mean—you’ve got at least… what, ten years left?”

  I laughed. “More like forty, but okay.” Then I sighed. “Roy has at least a hundred left. Not to mention the fact that he never had kids and still wants them.”

  “So push out another one… big deal.”

  I gaped at her. “Are you serious?”

  She shrugged. “Having children is the mark of any successful witch,” she answered with a shrug. “We pride ourselves on our ability to procreate.”

  “Yet you don’t have any children of your own.”

  She nodded and appeared a bit dejected in the way she glanced down at the floor. Instantly, I felt bad. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have, Wanda.”

  She looked back up at me and shook her head, her smile back in place. “Don’t be. Children aren’t in the cards for everyone and I don’t regret it that they weren’t in the cards for me. I’m happy with my life. Besides, with Libby and Darla, it’s like I’ve got twins.”

  I laughed at that and then remembered our conversation and my laugh died quickly. “I don’t want any more kids. Finn is nearly twelve and the idea of pregnancy and dealing with toddlers and all that stuff… I’ve been there done that and I have no interest in repeating any of it.”

  “I don’t blame you. I’ve never been there, but I’m sooooo done with that.”

  “The point is that Roy should find someone he can have a big family with—it’s what he wants.”

  “This isn’t about what Roy wants. It’s about what you want.”

  “Well, I definitely don’t want to have another child—let alone a bunch of them.”

  “A bunch?”

  I nodded as she made a face. “He wants to have a lot of kids.”

  “I have nightmares about that sort of thing.”

  We both laughed until the front door opened again and Fifi walked in.

  As soon as she saw Fifi, Wanda snatched her potions, basket and all, and immediately started for the front door. “Will you look at the time! I’ve gotta go! See you around, Poppy. Put these on my tab, okay?”

  Wanda practically knocked Fifi over in her rush to get out of the store. Fifi gave her a look because it was beyond obvious Wanda was making herself scarce. Ever since Wanda had inadvertently filled the duplex (Fifi used to be her neighbor) with self-propagating mold (that apparently spoke), she and Fifi had been on rocky ground. Not that I blamed Fifi necessarily. I imagined it couldn’t have been easy to live next to Wanda with her unpredictable magic. Once the mold took over the building, it had to be leveled to the ground and both of them had to move out. That was enough for Fifi to decide she’d had it with being Wanda’s neighbor. Now she was living in town somewhere.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked.

  Fifi looked right, then left. She shuffled her feet and knit her fingers together. Finally, she stammered out, “I… uh…. I need your help.”

  Chapter Two

  Fifi was a succubus and she magically charmed everyone in the vicinity into losing their minds each time she came around. It wasn’t her fault—it’s just what she was. Her effect on the male of the species was hardwired into her. Interestingly enough, the only men who didn’t appear to be affected by her were Marty and Roy. Maybe they were just used to her overwhelming sexuality after living in the same town with her for years.

  “Okay. What’s the problem?”

  “I… uh…” she mumbled. She looked right and left again. For a second, I followed her gaze. I just wasn’t sure what she was looking at, and it was a little unsettling.

  “Yes?” I encouraged her.

  “I’ve got a… big problem.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. We’re having a Valentine’s Day Special.” I swiveled around the counter and headed for the nearest shelf. “If it’s a problem with a love interest, you might want to try…..”

  “No!” She lunged for me and grabbed my arm. Her fingers dug into my flesh so hard, I winced. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she said as she dropped my arm and I took a step away from her, rubbing the offended appendage. I’d never seen her like this before—like she was completely scared out of her mind. “None of those will work,” she finished in a softer tone. “It’s not that kind of problem.”

  Hmm, this was interesting because where Fifi was concerned, it was always that kind of problem. Even though Fifi was a succubus, she was absolutely useless when it came to men and couldn’t hold on to a relationship to save her life.

  She went back to rubbing her palms and fidgeting. “I need something special—something different... something that will actually work.”

  “Okay, well, if you tell me—”

  “And… I’ll pay any price. I mean it. Anything.”

  “Okay... well, if I knew what the problem was, I might know what to do about it.”

  She looked around again—as if she was expecting someone to magically appear out of the ether. And, who knew, maybe she was? “Not here. I can’t tell you here.”

  “Fifi, it’s just the two of us,” I pointed out, looking around. “No one else is here.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said staunchly, shaking her head. “It’s too… out in the open. Too obvious. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Where and when would you like to talk then?” I wanted to help her—I really did. As a gypsy who brewed potions for people’s ailments, helping people was in my blood—it was what I did. And Fifi was no different, even if I was still fairly sure whatever was troubling her was probably going to be… ridiculous.

  “Later—tonight.”

  “I close up shop at five and then I have to…”

  “No!” she blurted out, startling me into silence. “We can’t meet here. We can’t meet anywhere in town.”

  “Okay…”

  “I’ll… I’ll meet you at your house tonight… at nine.”

  “Nine!” I repeated, shaking my head. “That’s late, Fifi. I mean… Finn has school tomorrow, and he’s usually in bed at nine.” Not to mention, I was usually in bed around the same time. Man, I really sounded like an old lady or like Sandy when she was wearing that yellow outfit…

  Hmm.

  “Perfect,” Fifi answered with a clipped nod. “Finn needs to be asleep so we won’t get interrupted.”

  “Okay,” I said, figuring that was a good point. Then I considered another good point. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, Fifi, I don’t want to bring that trouble to my house or to my son.”

  “No, we’ll be safe. No one would think to come to your house.”

  Before I could ask who ‘no one’ was, Fifi gripped my hand.

  “You can’t tell anyone about this. You can’t tell anyone I came in here or that I talked to you.”

  “Okay,” I said, frowning as she released me. Before I could say anything else, she turned around and hurried to the front of the store. She called over her shoulder, “I’ll meet you under that weeping willow east of your house.”

  “That’s right next to the… graveyard.”

  “Right.”

  And then she was gone.

  ***

  It was nearly closing time and I’d already served over twenty customers. It was looking like the day would be a successful one, and I was nearly through my stock of Courting Oil. I’d have to whip up some more tonight.

  As it was, I was currently waiting on one of my favorite of Haven Hollow’s residents—our very own handsome vampire, Lorcan Rowe.

  “Lorcan,” I started in a warning tone as I handed the bag across the counter, almost pulling it back again. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Lorcan Rowe, Haven Hollow’s resident Michelangelo Greek vampire statue, grinned at me and pressed his ivory hand to his non-existent heart. He was strikingly handsome, but I’d never been attracted to him. Instead, we had a wonderful friendship, for which I was very grateful.

  Besides, Lorcan was completely obsessed with Wanda—part of that obsession was owing to the fact that he hadn’t turned her into a vampire completely—she was still a witch, but now had the added benefits of death magic, provided by Lorcan’s blood. Apparently, when a vampire bestowed his ‘kiss’ on someone, if he didn’t fully see to her transition, it would eventually drive him crazy. At the moment, Wanda and Lorcan were trying to figure out a way to return Lorcan’s kiss to him, without Wanda needing to become a vampire in the process. She detested that idea, and I didn’t blame her.

  “Of course it’s a good idea!”

  “Lorcan, I really don’t think,” I started but his vehement ‘tsking’ and head shaking interrupted.

  “‘Tis the season to be smarmy and what better way to be such than to shower the lady of my affections with the attention she deserves? It’s the perfect Valentine’s Day idea.”

  “Okay, but… Amore’ Oil is a very strong potion, Lorcan, and it’s not out of the realm of possibility for people to start obsessing about you and following you around.”

  Lorcan leaned in closer. “My dear, I desire nothing more than for Wanda to obsess over me, follow me around and basically haunt my every moment.”

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed the bag into his grasp, not really having any other options. I mean, he’d already paid for the potion inside. “Just so we’re clear, Lorcan, I won’t be able to keep this a secret from Wanda.”

  “Come now, Poppy dearest,” he started, but it was me shaking my head that interrupted him this time.

  “Don’t try and pull that stuff with me.”

  “Oh, I would never!”

  “Wanda is a friend of mine and I won’t lie to her about you using one of my potions to soften her affections towards you—if her affections can even be softened—which is debatable.” I took a deep breath and continued. “If I don’t tell her, she’s going to think she’s temporarily taken leave of her senses—or permanently taken leave of them, depending on what your plans are.”

  “Well, then, by all means, Poppy, my dear, tell her post haste!” he exclaimed just as sincerely, which didn’t put my mind at rest in the slightest. “I would never ask you to keep a secret from Wanda, or from anyone else, for that matter. Your character is unassailable as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Now you’re making me nervous.” I couldn’t help laughing at the sheer lunacy of his desperation to get Wanda to like him more than she currently did. And as to how much she actually did like him? I wasn’t really sure. I knew he drove her nuts, but he drove everyone nuts. At the same time, though, he was charming and he was handsome and I’d caught her giving him the eye on more than one occasion. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

  He shut his eyes, bowed from the waist just like the gallant undead gentleman he was, and headed for the exit. “Thank you again, Poppy, dearest.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I called after him. “Good luck.”

  I almost turned back to the counter to finish wrapping a bunch of potion bottles in bubble wrap. Since I’d opened my store, I’d gotten quite a few mail orders to different parts of the state and even farther afield. It felt good to know word about Poppy’s Potions was spreading.

  I almost turned back to the counter, that is, until Fifi blasted through the door, hard enough to tear it off its hinges. The bells that told me a customer arrived didn’t just jingle, they practically shattered the glass of the door as they were thrown against it.

  She charged the counter and almost hurdled right over it. “I have to talk to you, Poppy! This is an emergency!”

  “What happened to meeting tonight where no one would overhear us?”

  Fifi shook her head and did her best to catch her breath. “There’s no time to lose! I have to talk to you now—this minute!”

  I was more than sure this ‘emergency’ had something to do with another failed date. I glanced at the clock. “Can’t you wait fifteen minutes? I’m about to close up.”

  Her features spasmed, and she cast a desperate glance around the store. “Can… can you close early? There’s no one here.”

  I shrugged as I considered it. “It’s almost closing time, anyway. I might as well.” Then I walked over to the door to lock it and turned the Open sign backward, as I called over my shoulder, “Closing up won’t take me too long. I just need to balance the register and clean up a few things.”

  But Fifi rushed me and seized my arm again. “I don’t have time to wait for you to close up! Hurry, Poppy, please! It’s a matter of life and death!”

  I shook her off and took a step back, because I still wasn’t sure what to make of all this business. Fifi and I were just casual acquaintances—we weren’t close by any stretch of the imagination so her randomly showing up, twice in one day, and demanding my help was… strange, to say the least. And, I still wasn’t sure how involved I wanted to get. Word on the street about Fifi was that she was nice enough, but she was like a sponge for drama. And that was the last thing I wanted in my life. I was definitely of the belief that it was best to surround oneself with positivity and positively minded people—just like that old saying goes—you are the company you keep.

  As a gypsy, I was very, very susceptible to people’s moods—it’s like I absorbed them. So, I had to be careful about just what I was absorbing. I looked at her and frowned. “You said that earlier, but don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?”

  “No, I’m not!”

  “Fifi, you survived the day, so I think you can survive another ten minutes while I close the store.”

  “No! I need your help now!”

  I almost put my foot down. You learn a few things from raising a child for eleven years. Dealing with histrionic tantrums, so-called life-and-death emergencies, and demands for immediate intervention are just a few of those things. I could safely call myself an expert in telling Fifi (or any other hysterical person) to take a massive chill pill, but when I noticed the expression on her face, I changed my mind.

  Her left cheek spasmed and she bit her lip as she attempted to hold back tears. She kept searching the store as if she were looking for something—but whatever that something was, it wasn’t there. She really did look like she was dealing with a life-and-death emergency—or her latest romantic catastrophe, which might pass for life-and-death if you were a succubus.

  She was really upset—much more upset than I’d ever seen her before. She might not be my first choice of social companion, but I couldn’t ignore such a desperate plea for help and she did keep saying I was the only person who could help her.

  “Come on. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

  The minute I said as much, she burst into tears. I led her behind the counter, where I kept a box of Kleenex. She covered her face with both hands so I had to steer her like a blind woman, but her sobs didn’t slacken. If anything, they got worse—as though she’d been holding them in for a long time.

  Most people would have probably considered Fifi to be a ruthless soul-crusher with little to no feeling. What else could you think of a succubus—a demon—who preyed on men as they slept and sucked their sexual passions against their will?

  A pang of guilt stung my conscience when I admitted to myself that maybe I, too, had been guilty of this type of stereotypical thinking—I mean, she was a demon! Yet, I’d never really considered how hard it must be to live her life: to be so attracted to men (your life literally depending on that attraction) and yet, not be able to keep a steady boyfriend… ever?

  I took her to my tiny back office, parked her in my chair behind the desk, and locked the door. Then I sat on the desk and braced myself. “Okay. We’re alone now. No one can hear us, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  Fifi raised her head and ran her wrist across her nose. Her bloodshot eyes streamed with tears, but even so, she was still beyond gorgeous. She never wore makeup, as far as I could tell, but she didn’t need to because her skin was flawless, minus the few lines around her eyes. Fifi was in her late thirties or early forties, but she could have passed for early thirties. She had this aura of natural beauty that surrounded her—like nothing was fake, not even her ample bustline. Or her impossibly silver hair that reached her waist. And her lashes really were that long... Her cheeks were pink, her teeth white and straight, her lips plump and perfectly shaped.

  “It’s my brother, Angelo. We’ve been fighting for weeks.”

  I felt my eyebrows lift of their own accord because I hadn’t expected this situation to have anything to do with family. “Fighting? How do you mean?”

  She sniffed and started talking faster. “You know how I’m in the process of buying out Ophelia’s stock in Hallowed Realty?”

  I nodded. Fifi was a realtor at Hallowed Realty while she also worked as a waitress at Roy’s restaurant and bar, the Half-Moon Grill. Once Wanda had done away with Ophelia, Fifi had decided to take over Hallowed Realty. So, none of this was news.