I sent a zap of magic into the lock. It clicked and I thrust the door open. It shoved me back and slammed shut. Fucking Mitzi.

  “What’s happening?” Lorel shouted over the angry buzzing that had swelled from a low hum to a loud grinding. Like a bunch of stone giants gnashing their teeth.

  The three women huddled close as more and more things floated up to join the slow-motion tornado. It wheeled around them and as I expected, started picking up speed. Glass shattered as items crashed through the display cases, escaping into the whirl. The razor-edged glass followed along with everything else that wasn’t nailed down. Oddly, the chandeliers didn’t even sway.

  Mitzi the bitchy ghost had more control than I’d hoped.

  Ice glazed the windows and hardened. More ran up over the door, making it even harder to escape. I turned back to the terrified women and cast a shield around them. I’d only learned how to make them recently, and wasn’t sure how long it would hold. Long enough, I hoped.

  Then things got worse, because of course they did. The scabbards on the swords slid off and the weapons started twirling like parade batons. It appeared Mitzi wasn’t going to be satisfied with merely killing us, she wanted to mulch us, too. Already the swords had started shredding whatever came within reach.

  I thought I could blow a hole in the side of the building to get us out, but she could easily follow. I needed to shut her down. Fast. The spinning had begun to speed up. I could feel pressure tugging me and my hair lifted and invisible wind plucked at my clothes. Ajax growled.

  “It’s okay,” I told him, my mind racing.

  Witches use a lot of various spells that include metals, paper, plants—you name it and some witch has probably used it—but in the end, it all boils down to the caster’s intent, determination, focus, and tolerance for pain. Okay, the last isn’t necessarily true, but pain happened often enough that I’d decided it was one of the four foundation stones of magic.

  I did all of my magic without spells because I’d never learned how to make them. I was pretty good at it, too, since I had determination—some might say stubbornness—in spades, relentless focus (ask me how to hold a grudge), and an ability to stay focused through intense pain, thanks to Aunty Mommy. Intent was the hardest part. Aka, figuring out what the hell to do.

  I didn’t have time to consider, so I went the triage route. First, eliminate the immediate threat. That meant safely grounding the flying debris first, then dealing with Mitzi. I had a feeling the first would be a lot easier than the second. Especially since I had no idea how to exorcize a ghost. Or kill one. Could a ghost be killed? They were already dead, weren’t they?

  I snorted at myself. Here I was congratulating myself on my focus and then letting my mind wander. Sometimes I wondered if I was too stupid to live.

  Easy money to bet Mitzi would attack as soon as I put a stop to her carousel of death and dismemberment. So that meant I really needed to deal with her at the same time. I’d caught her last time because I had a sense of where she was, but this time it wouldn’t be so easy.

  I scowled as I considered the options, then shook my head. I didn’t have time to ponder solutions. The tornado had accelerated and the sound had grown to a roar. We were almost out of time.

  The air pulled inward, dragging me a step forward. I cemented myself to the floor, and then flung a wad of sticky magic into the air. I told it to split up into as many strands as needed to grab all the stuff whirling in the air. And I told it not to tangle up as it whirled. Good thing magic didn’t have to make scientific sense, or the physics would never work for this. Or maybe it was supposed to and I just didn’t give a fuck about physics, and so my intent overrode the way things were supposed to work. It was my backup plan, anyhow, in case things went to hell before I could snare myself a ghost.

  With half my mind concentrating on grabbing up the flying objects, I released power in a flat wave until it reached wall to wall. I poured more in, running it up the walls and then ceiling, so that it enclosed the entire space. I started shrinking it, which was made more difficult by maintaining my other project. I was really hoping to get myself and the three women clear before Mitzi started her rampage.

  It belatedly occurred to me that I could drop the first spell and focus on collapsing the second as fast as possible instead of splitting my focus, since the second would contain Mitzie and her ammunition. In the exact moment that I dropped it, Mitzi deployed her tornado, pushing it down and out to encompass the entire space. Things whizzed past and bounced off my protective shield. I might have heard screams from Lindsey, Rhi, and Lorel, but couldn’t be sure with the noise from Mitzi’s would-be-fatal tantrum. I knew their shield remained, so they were safe enough for the moment.

  I drew hard on my magic bubble, careful to maintain its strength as I shrank its size. Damon had made me all too aware that you had to consider each piece of the spell, so you didn’t end up with giant holes in it, or worse, giant holes in yourself. The result of his teaching me this had been me seriously overthinking, instead of relying on myself like I had always done. He told me I’d been lucky. I told him I was just good. He’d rocked my confidence though, and I was doubting myself.

  The roaring sound dimmed as the whirlwind stopped moving and everything crammed together. Mitzi wasn’t happy. She shrieked. A demonic sound that sent prickles of ice down my spine. She fought hard, and I wound my magic around the entire mess, deciding overkill was the better part of glory, not to mention survival.

  I contemplated the hovering mess, trying to decide what to do next. I needed to extract Mitzi and then set all the rest of the crap on the floor, though I doubted enough survived for a decent sale. Apparently, Mitzi didn’t like her daughters consorting with their enemy cousin and planning to make her part-owner of the new business.

  A shiver ran through me and a droplet of cold water landed on my forehead. I looked up to the ceiling. Melting icicles hung like stalactites from the chandeliers.

  Abruptly the shrieking cut off. My stomach curled. That couldn’t be good.

  “What’s happening?” Rhi asked in a shaky voice.

  I flicked a glance at her. She had gone a pale shade of gray and stared wide-eyed at the hovering mass of crap. A cloud of junk. Made me think of the garbage patch in the ocean.

  “I don’t know,” Lorel replied softly.

  “It’s got to be Aunt Mitzi. What’s she trying to do?” Lindsey, this time.

  “She’s trying to kill you, and still would be if I let her,” I said a little more acerbically than I intended. Bet they believed I was a witch now. I resisted the urge to say I told you so. Barely. Instead, I said, “you’re welcome and shut up. This is only a temporary fix. I need to figure out how to send her to hell where she clearly belongs.”

  I didn’t bother checking their reactions. I didn’t have the bandwidth for them. Mitzi had begun pulverizing everything inside my trap. It didn’t do her any good. The more she made confetti, the more my bubble condensed, making her trap smaller. Unless that was the point. Maybe she wanted it smaller? I couldn’t see any reason why, but then I wasn’t a poltergeist with control issues and an anger management problem.

  “Mitzi! What exactly is your problem? You’re dead. You’ve been voted off the island. Time to go, or I’ll have to make you go.”

  She shrieked again, louder, and it actually hurt my ears and made my eyeballs vibrate in my head.

  “Well I would let you go, but you’re a menace, not to mention batshit crazy. I mean, you were trying to murder your own daughters, not to mention your niece, who, I might add, is trying to follow your will to its last shitty letter. You ought to be grateful to her, instead of throwing a murder tantrum.”

  As I spoke, an idea began to gel, but I didn’t have a handle on how to get it done.

  Then Mitzi went quiet. Too quiet.

  “So you’re ghosting us now,” I said. “Irony notwithstanding, we appreciate the quiet and feel free to leave.”

  She didn’t respond. Lindsey let out a low moan and crumpled to her knees, holding her head. She tipped sideways and curled into the fetal position.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Both Rhi and Lorel had dropped to their knees beside their cousin, but refrained from touching her.

  “She’s having a vision,” Rhi said when I repeated my question. She sounded worried.

  “Is she going to be alright?”

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t tell if that was certainty or wishful thinking. I decided I couldn’t worry about her and Mitzi at the same time, and Mitzi required my attention.

  What I wanted to do was send her off to wherever she belonged, but I didn’t know where that was, and I probably couldn’t do it anyhow. That left containing her as best I could. I decided to go with binding her to some object. If I could limit how far she could wander or affect the world around her, that would be enough. Then I could stick her in a safety deposit box, or maybe throw her in the ocean.

  I sighed, remembering that magic didn’t hold up to the elements, and I was pretty sure that ocean water would be fastest at eroding it. Not a chance I was willing to take.

  I looked around for something I could use. Metal would probably be best. More durable than any of my other choices, unless I could find a rock. My eye caught on the tall amethyst cathedrals that Mitzi hadn’t bothered with. Beside them were shelves that had held rocks and minerals. My gaze slid to a spear of pink quartz that had fallen on the floor and broke in two. One piece was about an inch by two inches, with one rough end and one pointed end.

  Ghosts had no mass, so size shouldn’t matter. I picked up the smaller chunk of quartz and rubbed my fingers over it, thinking.

  Lindsey started talking, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying. I blocked her out and concentrated on solving my Mitzi problem.

  Once again, I realized I was overthinking, and I needed to do what I did best. Decide what to do and do it. I had to have full confidence in my abilities. Damon would call it cockiness. He’d warn me not to be rash, that I had to pay attention to potential consequences and hedge against them.

  I drew a breath and let it out. Fuck all that. I knew my magic and I knew how to use it. Sure, it wasn’t conventional, but it worked for me.

  “I can do this,” I muttered, though whether to reassure myself or the absent Damon. “I’m damned well going to do this.”

  With that, I went to work. Mitzi had been caught inside my bubble. Now I just needed to extract her and bind her to the quartz. I formed a new bubble just inside the old one. This one was to allow anything to pass through it except Mitzi. Sticky anemone-style arms covered the interior, helping to immobilize her once she was caught.

  I contracted the interior bubble. It passed easily over the debris, reducing it down to a tiny ball of energy, no larger than a marble. I pulled it down to land in my empty palm. My magic was invisible, but Mitzi was a swirling drop of black, blue, and yellow. The colors twisted around themselves but didn’t mix.

  I set the chunk of quartz on top of her in my hand. Made of nothing but energy, she passed easily inside. Now I had to make it permanent. Deciding to take no chances, I created a needle and thread and stitched her inside, stabbing her over and over and wrapping the binding thread around the stone. I took my time. I made sure she’d be able to see and hear everything around her, but she wouldn’t be able to use her poltergeist powers, leaving her helpless.

  When I decided she wasn’t going anywhere, I wrapped my hand around the stone and sealed the bindings inside. I opened my hand and lifted it up to the level of my eyes.

  “Welcome home, Mitzi,” I said. “I don’t know what made you so bitter or mean, but you’re not going to hurt your daughters or niece anymore. If, by some insane chance, you should decide you want to be a helpful ghost, one who guards and protects, I’ll know, and I might just set you free. But I don’t plan to hold my breath. Few people recover from being assholes, though would taking a day or two off have killed you?”

  I tossed her into the air and she fastened onto one of the chandeliers where she’d have a good seat to see all that happened in the place. Next I lowered the hovering mass of stuff to the floor and left it in a pile in the middle of the room.

  Lindsey still lay on the floor. She writhed and her mouth opened and closed in gasps, her face twisting in pain. She no longer made any coherent sounds. Her eyes had rolled back up into her head, so now they looked eerily white, like a zombie.

  I wandered over. “She going to be all right?”

  Lorel looked up at me. “This one’s bad. I’m not sure her body can take it.”

  “Can I help?”

  Rhi shook her head. “Nobody can.”

  I looked around at the destruction around us. “Should you move her somewhere more comfortable? How long is she likely to be like this?”

  Lindsey herself answered. Her body snapped stiff and straight, her fingers curling into claws. She closed her eyes and her face relaxed. When she lifted her eyelids again, her eyes had rolled back down and appeared normal. She blinked and looked around. Her gaze settled on me.

  “Be careful. Something bad is going to happen. It’s coming for you.”

  She passed out.

  Chapter Five

  I found myself on the road an hour later and wondering just what kind of trouble was on its way. Lindsey had said it was bad, but that pretty much defined most of my life up until this point. She probably thought the Mitzi situation was bad. I’d come away unscathed, so I considered it an easy day. Of course I didn't know when or if they’d ever be able to have an estate sale with the damage done to all of their inventory, but I told them to call me when they sorted things out.

  I’d also told them where they could find Aunt Mitzi, and they'd decided to leave her hanging from the chandelier for the time being. Lorel and Rhi had both apologized for doubting that I was a witch, and both had thanked me profusely for disarming their mother and trapping her. Says a lot when your own kids want you locked up. Lindsey hadn't said much of anything after her proclamation that something was coming for me. She’d pretty much gone catatonic.

  Her cousins had helped her outside into a chaise lounge, where they forced her to drink some lemonade before she fell asleep. The cousins predicted she would remain sleeping for at least twenty-four hours, if not several days, waking only to eat, drink, and use the toilet. Not that she’d truly be awake, Lorel explained. Just that her body would recognize its needs and prompt her to care for herself. Her brain would remain off-line, however, until it recovered. Or at least that was their experience.

  I set aside all thoughts of the three women and turned my attention to bad possibilities. I really had no idea what could possibly happen. I didn't like imagining bad things, as I didn't want to invite trouble, and I had a feeling that my imagination was worse than reality could muster. I didn't actually care if something happened to me, but the idea of something happening to Stacey, Jen, Lorraine, or Damon, made my stomach knot.

  By the time I got back to town, I'd decided not to worry about it. It wasn't productive. I could worry when it happened. Maybe I’d even put it on my calendar.

  It was after seven when I returned to Damon's hotel room, after having run a couple errands. I showered and changed into black jeans, black boots, black T-shirt, and a black bra and underwear just to be consistent. Not that anybody was going to see me naked, or even almost naked. Of course I said that several times before, only to be proven wrong. It never hurts to be prepared.

  I cleaned the bite Mitzi had given me and covered it with a large bandaid. It had started to bruise. Did I need rabies shots?

  I texted the girls to make sure we were still on for the evening. Lorraine’s reply said she couldn't make it, since she had an emergency coming in and expected the surgery to last well into the morning. Apparently, there'd been a collision between a pickup pulling a horse trailer and an RV. Mostly Lorraine dealt with small animals, but several horses had been injured, and there were only two large animal vets in the area. Those were taking the more critical horses, but it was clear the animal Lorraine would be operating on was in nearly as bad condition.

  I asked her if she wanted me to be there, but she said no. I'm something of an animal whisperer. For some reason they trust me, even when they're out of their skulls with terror, or in a frenzied rage. I’d never actually worked with horses, but I never met an animal I couldn't calm. Lorraine said she might need me once the horse woke up from its anesthesia, but until then I couldn't be useful.

  I texted Jen and Stacey to let them know, and made arrangements to have dinner with Jen and afterward meet Stacey at the club where she worked as a bartender. We were on a mission tonight. One of the waitresses at The Starlight Club had an ex who had a problem letting go and had been giving her all sorts of hell. More than once he'd taken her car and abandoned it somewhere, forcing her to pay towing fees and once pay to get it out the police impound lot. He’d called the cops on her more than once, reporting her for dealing drugs, stealing from him, and vandalizing his house. Of course she had done nothing of the sort, but dealing with the hassle of it all ate her small paycheck and had caused her to lose two other jobs. In his latest move, he'd stolen her cats.

  She’d only started working at the club a few weeks ago, but once Stacey learned of her plight, she decided that she needed to do something about it, which meant we needed to do something about it. We were the sort of friends that if you called one of us to say you'd killed someone, we'd show up with shovels and an alibi and no questions asked.

  When the waitress — I think her name was Lydia – showed up one day with bruises, that had been the last straw. Stacey was not one to stand by and watch somebody get abused. None of us were. We decided to rescue the cats, teach the ex a lesson, and make sure he never hurt anybody again. What kind of psychopath steals cats anyway? Or any pets at all? That's ninth circle of hell shit right there.