“I guess I’ll find out when I get there.”

  “It’s one in the morning,” Mikey pointed out.

  Irritation flashed through me. “Congratulations on learning to tell time, only you got it wrong; it’s only midnight thirty.”

  He ignored my sarcasm. “Just saying it’s late. Most things can wait until morning, unless it’s an emergency.”

  “Your point?”

  “If you’re willing to cancel your plans and hightail it over to see them, I’m wondering just how dangerous the situation might be.” Steel glinted in his eye.

  “Down, boy. We’re probably just talking, but even if not, I won’t let anything happen to Stacey. Or Jen, for that matter. I’ve been protecting them for as long as I’ve known them.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Who’s going to make sure nothing happens to you?”

  That almost made my eyes pop out of my head. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll fall in a deep hole and you’ll only have Lorraine and Jen left to contend with.”

  He frowned. “I’m serious.”

  Sure he was. I just shrugged. Anyway, if I could take care of Jen and Stacey, I could take care of myself.

  “I swear to God if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on, my head’s going to explode,” Luke said, slapping his hand on the table.

  “How have you been protecting them?” Mikey leaned forward, studying me intently. “From what? Or who?”

  Points to him for being sharp enough to think that one through.

  “That’s none of your business.” No way was I going to tell him about life with Aunty Mommy.

  “Alright. If you don’t want to tell me, I’m going to come with you,” he said.

  “Me, too,” Luke added. “Wherever the hell you’re going.”

  I glared. “Who said either one of you is invited?

  “I did,” Mikey said.

  The temptation to tell him to fuck off and tie him up in magic whispered a siren song in my ear. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I knew, in no uncertain terms, that if I did that, I was no better than Aunty Mommy. I considered that grotesque revelation. Was it true?

  I wasn’t prepared to answer that. Nor did I have time to think about the ethics of magic and using it for my own selfish purposes with absolutely no actual consequences. Well, except for self-loathing and disgust.

  I hadn’t really thought about it before. When Aunty Mommy was alive, I’d hidden my magic, only to find out after her death that she’d known all along. I’d felt like an idiot for all of two seconds before realizing she knew a whole lot more than I did about using magic, and would have really gone after Jen, Lorraine, and Stacey if I’d tried to fight back with mine. I wouldn’t have been able to protect them. As it was, she’d used them as hostages against my cooperation. I let her torture me; they stayed alive and healthy.

  Totally worth it.

  From Mikey’s slightly concerned expression, I could tell he read me like a picture book. Maybe he was even testing me. Asshole.

  “I’m going to wait outside.” I spun around and headed for the front doors, escaping into the balmy night air. A lot of people stood outside smoking and laughing. I crossed the parking lot to where I’d parked the Highlander. Damn, but I missed my Thunderbird.

  I hopped up on the hood to wait, only to find Officer Mikey coming in for a landing, with Luke striding along behind looking both pissed and confused.

  Mikey stopped in front of me, his thumbs hooking in his front pockets. If he’d looked even the slightest bit smug, I’d have kicked him in the nuts. Lucky for him, he only looked thoughtful. I waited for him to say something. He didn’t speak. He apparently thought that I’d hate the silence and feel compelled to start blathering like some guilty suspect. He was wrong.

  I started looking at the ledger pages on my phone, trying to decipher them. Unfortunately, Mitzi’s handwriting was atrocious, and I’d never been good at Sudoku, much less the mess that was her code.

  Luke wandered over to stand beside me and look over my shoulder.

  “I’d sure like to know what’s going on.”

  “I’d sure like a bucket-sized margarita. Guess neither of us are getting what we want. Shouldn’t you go find yourself a hook-up for the night? You’ve got a club full of opportunity, and it’s not going to last long. It’s almost time to close. Gotta keep your dick happy, right?”

  He chuckled. “I’m good. Why won’t you tell me?”

  I slid a glance at him. “Okay. Earlier today I helped a psychic and her cousins deal with a homicidal poltergeist. Afterward, the psychic had a vision and said something bad was coming. Before you ask, I have no idea what that means. Just a few minutes ago, one of the cousins texted me with some disturbing pictures and told me I needed to come right away. Lindsey—the psychic—had another vision. There. Now you’re pretty much caught up. If you have questions, keep them to yourself.”

  I shot a glare at Mikey, who’d obviously been listening in, and then went back to my phone.

  Luke remained silent. Hallelujah. As far as I knew, the only way to shut him up was to put a tit in his mouth, or a cock or pussy, or maybe a ball-gag. Maybe I should start carrying one of the last in my purse for those ‘just in case’ moments, along with hand sanitizer, chapstick, and bandaids.

  After a moment, he leaned into me and rested his chin on my shoulder as he also looked at my phone.

  “Those the pictures?”

  I sighed. So much for not asking questions. “Yes.”

  “Looks like gibberish. What's all that mean?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. All I can say for sure is that Mitzi—the poltergeist—and my Aunty Mommy, did business together.”

  He lifted his head and put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed, then instantly let go as if worried I’d jab him in the stomach with my elbow. He wasn’t wrong. “Stacey told me a little about your bitch of an aunt and what she did to you.”

  “Yeah?” I doubted she’d told him any of the really bad stuff, but the not-so-bad was plenty terrible.

  “She was seriously twisted.”

  “Won’t argue with that.”

  He bumped his shoulder against my arm. “Sorry. I know Stacey didn’t tell me the whole story or even much of it, but you didn’t deserve any of the shit she put you through.”

  I knew that. Most of the time, anyhow, but it was nice to hear someone else say it, especially someone who had something of an unbiased point of view.

  “Thanks.”

  “What are you all doing out here?” Jen demanded as she and Stacey strode up.

  Stacey sparkled. Rhinestones trailed across her cheekbones and made little curls on her temples. She wore high-top purple Chucks decked out with rhinestones and rainbow LED lights. Fishnet stockings woven with silver thread wrapped her legs up to her miniskirt, which was neon pink trimmed with more rhinestones, with a blue tank top and a rhinestone-studded jacket.

  I hopped down off the car and hugged her hello. She smelled of alcohol and the industrial soap she used behind the bar, plus her favorite floral scent.

  “You okay?” she asked, holding my arms as she stood back to examine me.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Jen said you caught a ghost that was trying to kill you, and that a psychic warned you about something bad happening.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not hurt?”

  I sighed again. End up nearly dead in the hospital a few times, and suddenly your friends think you’re fragile.

  “Not a scratch.”

  She nodded, accepting my assurance. Now that Aunty Mommy and all her threats were gone, I’d promised not to withhold any information or lie to them ever again. I’d done both to protect them, and they’d forgiven me, but not again. All the truth, nothing but the truth, forever and ever, amen.

  Stacey dropped my arms and glanced at our companions. “Why are we standing around? Don’t we have somewhere to be?” She brushed past Luke and opened the front passenger seat.

  Jen climbed in the back and I headed for the driver’s side. Next thing I know, we’re out on the road, with Luke jammed between Jen and Officer Mikey in the back seat, and Stacey riding shotgun. I could have pointed out there was a third seat in the back we could fold out, but decided Mikey’s disgruntled expression was too entertaining for that. Luke couldn’t have been happier.

  “I’m starved. Can we grab a burger or tacos or something?” Stacey asked plaintively before we’d gone a mile. “Marco stays open late for the after-hours crowd.”

  “You got it,” I said, feeling hungry as well.

  I pulled into the strip mall parking lot where Marco parked his truck on weekend nights. He served a mix of Cuban and Mexican foods, with a little bit of TexMex thrown in. He didn’t have many customers at the moment, but I knew they’d pour in just as soon as The Starlight Club and the other local watering holes closed. Tonight a couple of other trucks had joined him, one Greek, the other Polish.

  All of us jumped out and ordered, taking our food and getting back in the car. I’d ordered a burrito so that I could eat and drive. Stacey had four crunchy chicken tacos and a chicken fajita burrito. She could eat her weight and was always ravenous after work. I didn’t see what everybody else got, but the car smelled delicious, and for a while, nobody spoke.

  The two men had managed to shift Jen to the middle, either to buffer their manliness or keep from getting the other’s cooties. Hard to say. I still didn’t know why they’d decided to join us, or why we’d let them. Luke had been remarkably accepting of the psychic and ghost business.

  “There’s another seat in the back,” I told Jen. “If you want to be more comfortable. I can pull over.”

  She shook her head. “We’re in a hurry. Maybe on the way back.”

  “So let’s hear the whole story,” Stacey said after she’d gobbled her tacos. She sat sideways in the seat, her legs crossed, her back against the door. No seatbelt. The LEDs on her Chucks continued to flash. “Don’t leave out the ghost wrangling part, either.”

  She gave me a questioning look to confirm that it was okay that she spoke openly in front of Luke and Mikey. Not that she hadn’t let the cat out of the bag when she’d greeted me, but Jen had probably given her a quick and dirty rundown already, so she knew the men had witnessed our conversation when Rhi’s texts arrived, not to mention my little disintegration act at the table.

  The cat had long since shredded the bag and escaped.

  After I told the story, I spent the rest of the drive to Sutton answering questions. Mikey seemed content to just listen. Shortly after I began to tell my story, Luke revealed he didn’t believe anything I’d said and started ridiculing the idea of magic. I lobbed a ball of witch light at him. From then on, he just sat and stared wide-eyed at it bobbing in his cupped palms. I didn’t doubt he was listening just as intently as Mikey.

  Luke was a slut, but he was also smart. He made his money working at a tech company that did business for the government. Whatever he did for them, they made sure he was happy, paying him well and loading him up with a buttload of perks, including paid-for trips to fancy resorts all over the world, a Ferrari, a vacation house in Pebble Beach, and I don’t even know what else.

  He kept most of his wealth a secret, unless you noticed most of his clothes were handmade just for him, or if he took the Ferrari out. Most of the time he drove a pick-up truck with all the bells and whistles you could imagine. Basically, he was down to earth and not a snob about his money.

  So to sum up: rich, slutty, and smart, but not snobby. He also had a sense of humor and frankly, the best thing about him was that for as long as I’d known him, he’d had Stacey’s back. Sure, he wanted in her pants, but he’d never force her, and he’d also do just about anything for her. I was pretty sure he’d accepted he’d never get her into bed and flirted mostly because they both had fun with it.

  Mikey, on the other hand, despite his asshole tendencies, seemed like a solid guy and smart, but he also had a judgmental streak a mile wide. Since he directed it at Stacey, Lorraine, Jen, and I, he was going to have to crawl a long way before I’d be willing to trust him. Or like him.

  I parked in the same place I had before. When we reached the shop, the front door stood open, light from the chandeliers streaming out. I went inside and scanned the interior. The girls had been busy. The salvageable stuff had been moved to one side of the shop. Fat garbage bags lined the opposite wall. Several big garbage cans held broken glass, wood, nails, and other debris.

  I glanced up to the chandelier where I’d attached Mitzi. Her pink quartz twitched and vibrated. Jen and Stacey followed my gaze.

  “That’s her?” Stacey asked.

  I nodded.

  “I thought my first ghost would be more interesting,” she said, eyeing the crystal.

  “I could let her loose, but she’d probably pull the building down on us,” I said.

  “You’re here!” Rhi hurried in from Mitzi's psychic reading room. The relief on her face was almost painful. She waved her hand. “Come quickly. She’s gotten worse.”

  She disappeared and I followed, the others trailing after me.

  When I stepped through the heavy velvet drapes, my gaze instantly went to Lindsey. She sat in one of the chairs at the glass-and-wood pedestal table. Her head hung down, her hair hiding her face. She sat stiff in the chair, arms dangling. She still wore gloves. Her breathing wheezed loud in the little chamber, alternating with sounds that could have been whimpers.

  She shuddered and her breathing stopped. Her ribs bellowed as she fought for oxygen. She threw her head back. Her eyes stared wildly at the ceiling. Her body twitched and shook, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Sweat dampened her face and darkened her shirt. She looked like she’d been working for hours in the Arizona sun. Her skin had gone bright red and her eyes looked bloody from popped capillaries. She didn’t blink.

  Lorelei stood behind her, wringing her hands as she spoke quickly into Lindsey’s ear. She glanced up as I came into the room.

  “She’s here. Do you hear me? Beck is here. You can talk to her now. Please breathe. Please.”

  Lindsey didn’t react. I strode to her and stood over her, putting my face in her field of vision.

  “Lindsey? Can you hear me? You need to breathe.” And if she didn’t, I’d have to do it for her. Mouth to mouth? Or using magic?

  “I know CPR,” Mikey volunteered.

  “Same,” Stacey said.

  When Lindsey started to bow up out of the chair, her feet on the floor, her neck pressed against the back of the chair, I bent and grabbed her hand, stripping off the glove so I could touch her skin to skin.

  A porcupine exploded in my brain. I collapsed against the table and dropped to the floor, my vision fracturing into confetti. Nothing made sense. My chest clenched down and I couldn’t breathe. I fought a panic that wasn’t mine. Lindsey’s emotions pounded through me in a cataract of frenzied fear and desperation. I heard her screaming. That I heard her only inside my head made no difference. The sound ripped through me like I’d been hit with a taser.

  Vaguely I was aware of shouting and talking and the smell of lemons and cloves. Weird. In my mind, thick clouds of greasy yellow and black smoke billowed up. I wanted to hold my breath, but that only reminded me I couldn’t breathe. Prickles ran under my skin, quickly turning to pinpricks and then scraping. I twitched and shuddered, but couldn’t rid myself of the sensation.

  Lindsey? I might have said her name aloud. I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that if I didn’t start breathing soon, Jen and Stacey were going to kill me. Come on, Lindsey. You wanted to talk to me. I’m here. What’s going on?

  I had an impression of her searching for me, that frantic energy stirring the smoke into a bubbling churn. The greasiness stuck to me like I’d gone a week without showering and then rolled around in congealed bacon fat. Eerie noises twisted around me, like they’d been pulled out of shape. It was like being in a house of mirrors, only instead of distorting images, they distorted sound.

  The feeling that I couldn’t breathe grew more urgent. My eyes swelled and my heart thundered, a bass drum playing counterpoint to the weird ribbons of noise.

  Lindsey! I put all my strength into the mental shout, then remembered I was a witch. How could I help her? She was trapped in some sort of psychic fugue and she’d dragged me in with her.

  I couldn’t separate myself. I needed another psychic. Someone who could reach Lindsey and break her free. I only knew of one other and she was as likely to help us as I was to forgive Aunty Mommy. But since I didn’t have another option, I did the only thing I could: I called Mitzi’s rose quartz prison to my hand.

  I thought I’d have to crack her bindings, but as soon as the rock hit my palm, Lindsey yanked her into her freakout, too.

  I found myself face-to-face with the woman. Except she was a ghost and this was all in my head. How that worked, I couldn’t begin to fathom, nor did I care. Somebody else could explain magical physics. Right now, I only needed to know if she could help Lindsey.

  Mitzi looked a lot like Rhi and Lorel. A sixty-year old version. She stood tall and slender, her hair dyed an orangey red. Her face appeared smooth, with few crow’s feet or other lines. But then, most lines required you to smile or laugh. From the glacial chill of her blue eyes, I doubted she understood the concept of humor. Hate, now, that one she had an expert handle on.

  Then she smiled and I realized smiles could be malicious and triumphant and didn’t necessarily require humor. If she’d been wearing a fur coat or had black and white hair, I’d have called her Cruella de Vil. As it was, Charles Manson popped to mind.

  “Looks like you’re in a spot of trouble,” she said, and her smile widened. It was a Grinch smile, exactly like in the cartoon.

  “I always knew Lindsey would choke. Just like her mom. The power was wasted on them.”