Why are you surprised? I asked myself. You already knew all that.

  I sighed as I realized I should have known better than to call her—for anything. Staring down at the phone, I wondered what I was supposed to do now?

  “At least we know Dev isn’t a warlock,” Marty said.

  I rolled my eyes upward. “If you can believe her, that is.”

  “Are you saying he is a warlock?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “Then?”

  I breathed out an impatient sigh. “It could be as simple as Mother not knowing there’s a warlock running around.”

  “Hmm.”

  I nodded. “One thing I do know is that whatever he is, he used some kind of magic on me because I normally would never… act like I have been.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like a warlock to me.”

  “I don’t know.” Then I huffed out a breath and felt completely and totally exhausted and overwhelmed. “I’m going home and then I’m going to call Poppy.” I scooped the denim pieces into a bag. I could finish sewing them at home where maybe I could think straight.

  “Good idea.”

  I shoved Marty out of the shop and then locked the door behind us. I left all my closing chores undone and allowed Marty to walk me to the Escalade. Yes, I was driving Lorcan’s SUV, mainly because I really hated the Vega.

  Of course, Marty commented on it, and I was reluctant to tell him it was Lorcan’s because I didn’t want him to think there was anything going on between the two of us. Marty was too polite to suggest otherwise, but I was more than sure he had his suspicions.

  “And that is exactly why I didn’t want to drive you, Escalade,” I said to myself as I started the engine and putting it into reverse, eased out of my parking spot.

  Chapter Ten

  On the drive back to the duplex, I went over every detail I could remember about Dev. The simplest explanation is usually the right one and the simplest explanation was that Dev or someone else was using magic on me—magic that was making me act completely unlike myself and having vivid sexual dreams about both Dev and Lorcan.

  But, the question remained: why would anyone want to do such a thing? The same question continued to haunt me. If someone was bewitching me, why would they bewitch me to be more attracted to Lorcan? Because they wanted Lorcan to turn me fully? But, then why was I also so completely out of my mind when it came to Dev? Hmm... Of course, I was only out of my mind when Dev was near me. The second he left, my obsession with him faded, and I found all my thoughts turning to Lorcan, even to the exclusion of thoughts of Dev.

  The only reason someone would want to make me more attracted to Lorcan and vice versa would be to push the two of us together. Someone wanted Lorcan to give me his Kiss and finish what he’d started when he gave me his blood that day I lay dying in the street.

  Who would want to do that? Only one name came to mind: Rupert.

  Rupert had been hounding Lorcan to give me his Kiss ever since the accident that turned me into a Blood Witch first occurred. Rupert was even more insistent than Mother that a Blood Witch could not be suffered to live.

  I had to claim sanctum, that was all there was to it. Claiming sanctum was the only solution. If Lorcan didn’t agree to sell me my half of the duplex or one of his other many properties, I’d have to find some workaround. I couldn’t let myself become a vampire. Furthermore, I’d put too much work into trying to break this cursed existence just to give up now.

  No, you’re not going to give up, Wanda, I told myself.

  ***

  After calling Poppy and getting her voicemail, I left her a message about hopefully getting together later and then drove home. When I arrived, I found Astrid in her room. She had her headphones on and a bunch of textbooks open before her on the bed. She didn’t hear me ease the door open to peek in on her so I said hello, asked her if she wanted to order in for dinner and she heartily agreed.

  Then I shut the door just as quietly and went to my room. There, I worked on Dev’s clothes for an hour before Poppy called me back and said she was on her way over.

  Why did I work on Dev’s outfit? Because it was a good way to keep him coming around so I could figure out what he wanted from me and, more so, who had hired him. Better to act as if I didn’t suspect anything—that I was under his spell, just as he assumed I was.

  ***

  Two hours later, Poppy was back at her house and I was hopeful that all the potions she’d anointed me with were enough to break the thrall of Dev’s magical hold on me. Of course, I’d still have to pretend like I was under his influence when I saw him next, but that was easy enough.

  Poppy wasn’t sure how well her potions would work against blood sigils but she did everything she could, anointing me with Dragon Protection Oil which was meant to call on the dragon’s power of protection, Flying Devil Oil which was a special Voudoun uncrossing oil used to overcome the power of a strong hex and Conquering Glory Oil which was meant to help me gain power over Dev. After anointing me, Poppy asked me to write Dev’s name on a piece of paper, then I placed the paper underneath a purple candle anointed with the Conquering Glory Oil. After lighting the candle, we both held hands and I pulled my death magic forth, chanting a hex that was designed break the hold Dev had on me.

  Hopefully it was enough.

  ***

  In the middle of the night, I realized I was dreaming again—but this time I was somehow lucid and, in being lucid, I took control of my surroundings as much as I could.

  I saw myself walking from room to room in the duplex, while debris, knickknacks, books, dishes, food, and dust flew all around me. Gravity didn’t appear to be a governing principle as objects sailed through the air, pelting the windowpanes, slamming into the walls and shattering the plaster. Furniture uprooted itself and overturned, falling into the walls and breaking through the windows.

  There was no sign of Astrid, or Hellcat.

  I glided a few inches above the carpet while a tempest kicked up everything in sight. It tossed my hair and ripped at my clothes, as if trying to blow right through me. But, I didn’t try to stop it. I spread my arms to both sides and channeled more and more of the power of the storm, taking it into me.

  I turned down the hall and the front door slammed open on its hinges. All of a sudden, animal corpses poured across the threshold and lurched from room to room, suddenly animated as they mewed and barked and others flapped their featherless wings, taking flight through the house. They clawed and bit everything in sight, mauling the couch to shreds, scrambling up the bookshelf and kicking off all the books, while others fought with each other on the floor, tearing and biting ravenously.

  I soared over their rotted heads and rotated back toward the living room. All the while, a strange, foreign yet insatiable rage consumed me. Rationality didn’t enter into my thoughts or the dreamscape. I only cared about destruction and death.

  I summoned even more power from the storm and it raged more strongly. I’d never dare use this kind of power in real life, but in the safety of the dream, all safeguards switched off. I could do whatever I pleased. And so I did.

  The front door smashed shut and dozens of ghosts vaporized through it, looking like a sea of mist. They drifted through the walls and rose through the floor. Their screams and howls joined the screeching wind, but I wasn’t afraid. No, I understood they were my creatures—entities I had brought forth.

  Somewhere in the chaos and confusion, I heard a voice. And the more I honed in on the voice, the more I recognized it. Libby. She was yelling something, but I couldn’t make out her words. What was more, I didn’t want to. All that mattered was this delicious fury.

  The front door vibrated with what sounded like someone slamming their fists against it. Someone was trying to get in, trying to get me to control myself. Facing the door, I sent an extra blast of power towards it. The power barred the entrance so no one could get in. I didn’t want anyone interfering or telling me I shouldn’t satisfy this thirst for power. I was so much more powerful than I ever knew, than I’d ever thought.

  I could feel something else burning within me—the vampire part of me. Reaching in, I accessed the power lying latent in Lorcan’s blood. I never dared to do so before, but it suddenly felt so impossibly good—so murderous, destructive, and hateful. I drank it to the dregs and fed it back to the dead animals rampaging beneath my feet.

  They snarled and bit and shredded everything in their paths, including each other. They clambered over the remains of Darla’s gramophone and attacked the contents of the fridge. Half-rotten dogs, cats, ferrets, opossums, birds and coyotes were suddenly clawing, spitting, and fighting on the kitchen floor.

  All around me, I destroyed the life I hated so much. None of this was worth spit—this small duplex, all the furnishings, the sad Vega parked just outside. This was no way for a witch to live. This was no way for me to live.

  The dream dissolved long before I finished enjoying myself. I woke up with a start, but strangely I felt refreshed and relaxed, even though it was only five o’clock in the morning. The sun wasn’t completely up, but the sky was getting light in the east.

  Considering the wild dream, I was surprised I felt so good—so energetic, so full and vibrant. I stretched my arms to the ceiling, savoring the gorgeous sensation of well-being and ease. Feelings of power continued to flow through me and I felt ten pounds lighter, even though I didn’t know why.

  Today was Friday, the day Lorcan traveled to Seattle to visit Rupert. When Lorcan returned, we would finish Betanya’s theorem. And that meant, hopefully, I wouldn’t be a Blood Witch much longer.

  I got dressed and then brushed my teeth, thinking I’d make Astrid a special breakfast to reward her for all the good work she was doing at school and in her potion brewing lessons with Poppy. Maybe I’d even take a crack at helping her with her homework if she needed it, even though I was useless with that sort of thing.

  I opened my bedroom door, but it caught on something. Pushing hard against it, a revolting stench of rotten flesh hit me full force in the face. Peering around the door, the hall was carpeted with dead bodies—cats, dogs, coyotes, birds, opossums…

  My stomach lurched violently as my heart started thumping in my chest.

  It couldn’t be. That dream… it was just a dream. I didn’t really…

  I couldn’t stand here wondering.

  I had to squeeze out of the slim opening in the door and then pick my way through soggy, festering, decomposing corpses on my way to the living room.

  The walls had been battered to the wooden framing underneath. The plaster and sheetrock hung in broken sections. Gnawed books lay in a jumbled heap under the bookshelf—luckily Betanya’s journals were at the very top of the bookcase and, as far as I could tell, unmolested. Most of the shelves had been broken off, and the couch was one giant snowfield of scattered stuffing and torn fabric.

  I swallowed hard.

  No. Goddess, no. Don’t let the dream have been real. I couldn’t have destroyed my own house. I didn’t mean to….

  I turned toward the kitchen. Dismembered animals lay in pieces on the kitchen linoleum. The fridge light shone through the broken door. The shelves had all been knocked down, and the food devoured. What would I make Astrid for breakfast, before school?

  Astrid! Great Goddess!

  Astrid had been in her room when I went to bed, but now…

  “Astrid!” I bellowed. “Astrid!”

  I stumbled over corpses in my urgency to get to Astrid’s bedroom. Reaching the door, I grabbed the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. Astrid’s door locked from the inside, but the handle still turned when it was locked. She must have done some sort of spell to keep the animals and destruction from getting inside.

  I passed my hand across the door frame and gleaming wards and sigils appeared. They glowed from inside the wood. She’d warded her room to protect herself… from me.

  I inhaled a tortured breath.

  She wouldn’t want to see me, not after what had happened, what I’d done. I’d be the last person she would want to see after… that. I almost looked down the hall toward the living room, but stopped myself in time. I didn’t want to see that… that carnage again.

  My thoughts returned to Astrid. I had to talk to her. I had to explain that I hadn’t meant to raise all the animals and destroy the house. I had to explain it was all just a dream that had somehow become real, that I hadn’t intended for any of this to happen.

  I concentrated on the wards. They weren’t very strong. She still had some developing to do before she could stop me from getting past them, but I had to work slowly. I concentrated on each one, willing myself to break it down.

  “Boundary, boundary in my way, allow me to cross without delay,” I whispered. “Such is what I desire, so mote it be!”

  Each symbol flashed and then faded. The door was clear. I had to force myself to take hold of the handle and then summon my will to turn it. But, I hesitated because I was scared. I was scared of the look that would be in Astrid’s eyes, scared of the accusation that would undoubtedly appear in her expression.

  I forced myself to take a step inside, and my vision blurred with tears when I saw Astrid curled in a fetal position on her bed. She’d wedged herself as far into the headboard as she could and her whole body shook with sobs.

  “Go away!” she called out.

  I opened my mouth, but no sound would come out.

  Astrid. My little cousin. The only person who had ever meant a damn to me.

  A tear streaked down my cheek when I thought about how I’d endangered her life with my unpredictable magic. And that was when something dawned on me—Astrid wasn’t safe here. She wasn’t safe with me.

  “Astrid,” I started.

  She shook her head. “Please… just go away.”

  I cared about Astrid more than anyone else in the world—more than I cared for myself—but I would need to send her away for her own protection. That thought led to others, namely: what was happening to me? I really was degenerating. I was beyond degenerating. I was rotten. I was a force of evil. I was worse than a vampire. I was everything I’d tried to avoid becoming when I moved to Haven Hollow. I’d completely reversed my very self—I’d become something I didn’t recognize, something evil.

  I inched closer to Astrid’s bed, but I couldn’t think of one decent thing to say to her. Nothing would make this situation better—not now, not ever. My throat swelled shut so I couldn’t speak, no matter how hard I tried. I sank down on the mattress, staring at her through a haze of tears.

  “I’m so sorry… I didn’t know what I was doing,” I started in a hollow voice. “I was dreaming and everything I dreamt came true.”

  My hand migrated toward her, but I didn’t want to touch her. I was just… so afraid. Afraid that if I touched her, I might do even more damage or that she’d pull away from me in horror. And I couldn’t face that look in her eyes.

  I closed my fingers around her ankle and squeezed. “I’m so sorry, Astrid!” I croaked. “I am so, so sorry!” Goddess, how pathetic those words sounded, but they were the only words I could manage.

  She only sobbed louder. Screwing up her forehead, she turned her face away so I couldn’t see her. Her body rocked with her sobs and she pulled her leg away from me.

  Just then, a car horn honked from outside.

  “Wanda!” a distant voice called, the sound carrying through the window. “Wanda! Are you in there?”

  I sniffed back my tears and stood up, starting for the door. When I reached the hall, I turned back to face Astrid. She was still huddled on her bed, still hiding her face. “I promise you, on my life, that I will never, ever let this happen again, Astrid,” I said in a soft voice. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe, even if it means we can no longer live together until I get rid of whatever this is inside me… until I can reverse this curse.”

  She didn’t respond.

  I had to figure out a way to break this curse. I owed it to Astrid, as well as to myself. But, first, I had to search for Hellcat. I was more than sure he was still alive because I could feel his energy still thrumming through me—as my familiar, my magic animated him and that meant I could feel him, his life force.

  Strangely enough, knowing he was alive was a relief.

  Chapter Eleven

  “The cavalry has arrived!” Marty announced from where he stood in my driveway.

  I stepped out of the duplex and blinked at the cars that were already skidding into view from all directions. Poppy, Finn, Darla and Libby hopped out of Poppy’s Jeep Wrangler. Henner, RJ, and Marty were standing in front of Marty’s hearse and all of them headed towards me with expressions of concern. Lorcan’s Porsche was just behind the hearse and he was the only one in it.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded. “It isn’t even five-thirty in the morning.”

  “I called them.” Lorcan said, as he strode toward me.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Libby came to my office a half an hour or so ago, talking about how you were out of control and raising all sorts of dead things.”

  “So he called in the big guns,” Henner finished for him, motioning to himself.

  “I was going to offer to take Astrid back to our house,” Poppy chimed in as she put her arm around Finn, forever playing the role of mother and protector. “She can stay with us until you’re ready for her to come back.”

  I hung my head and blew a shaky breath into my cheeks as I realized this was all for the best. This situation—it was too big for me to handle now. “Thanks. Just…” I jerked my thumb toward the house. “You should probably take Astrid out through the back door. I don’t want her walking through… the mess in the kitchen.”

  “Leave it to me!” Poppy said as she told Finn to stay in the Jeep, but he was already arguing with her. In the end, she managed to keep him put with the help of Libby, who had taken on the role of his second mother. Pretty soon, Poppy disappeared into the house, by going around the back.