Emme shot me an optimistic glance. I didn’t comment, refusing to give them false hope. Taran knew the witches wouldn’t back down. Her attempt was made to ease our sisters’ fears. But as much as I hated them being on edge, the tension would keep their guard up, and hopefully keep them safe.
I retreated to my bedroom, my brain muddled with how to handle the witches and their flying monkeys of doom. Beings of magic guarded their proprietary secrets carefully. It’s not like a “Wicked Spell-Casters R Us” website awaited us with answers. Who could I call? Danny, my dear friend and genius extraordinaire, had become enthralled by the supernatural world after I helped protect him and his father against Mafioso-like vampires years ago. Since then, he’d researched the mystical world just for fun, shocking the bejeebers out of me. Personally, I thought he’d take up knitting a strait jacket after that nightmare experience. If anything, his near-death occurrence fueled his curiosity about the superbeasties and what made them go bump in the night.
Danny and I had dated briefly as teens. He’d ended our relationship just before he left Jersey for Stanford, claiming he wasn’t what I needed. It took me a long time to understand what he’d meant, and even longer to admit he’d been right. We’d stayed in touch because aside from my sisters, he’d been my one true friend, and one I could trust with our lives.
My sisters and I, while technically supernatural, didn’t fall under any mystical category. Therefore, we didn’t quite belong . . . anywhere. And although mortal, once the backfired curse kicked in, we no longer thought of ourselves as fully human. We resigned to fly under the radar, as much as our uniqueness would allow. And even though Danny was human, he knew more than us and was frequently our go-to guy when we had questions about the world we’d done our best to avoid. I called him so he could ease my fears, tell me my concerns were ridiculous, accuse me of being neurotic.
Danny answered my call on the second ring. It surprised me given he was immersed in his doctoral studies at Stanford. “Hey, Celia! How’s it going, pretty girl?”
“Taran picked a fight with a witch last night in a public bathroom. We destroyed her talisman and burned down the building. I think her coven plans to retaliate and turn us into gophers . . . or kill us. One of the two, for sure.”
A long, long pause was followed by: “Holy crap. Celia, you have to get out of there!”
So much for easing my worries. “We can’t, Danny. This is home now.” I stood and paced my bedroom suite, spilling the details of our rip-roaring night. “What can we expect?”
“Hang on.” Fumbling ensued on the other end followed by what sounded like books falling from high places and pages flipping open. “According to The Brown Book of Magic, in destroying the witch’s talisman, you’ve cut her power by half.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.”
The pause on the other end told me I was very much mistaken. “Ah, Celia, witches are born with magic in them.”
“I know, Danny. That’s what differentiates them from humans.”
More pausing. More trouble, I presumed. “They spend their lives building their magic into their talismans—staffs, rings, necklaces, etc., to amplify the magic they’re born with. Apparently it’s a lot of work and takes years of grueling effort.”
I stopped pacing. “Um. Okay. So what does that mean?”
“Ah, well, you basically stripped her of her position and she will likely never regain the power she’s lost. It’s the equivalent of a general being reduced to private status.”
“Well, that’s not too bad—”
“After he’s publically whipped before the entire army.”
“Um, no one saw—”
“And peed on by feral dogs.”
It was my turn to pause. “So, there’s nothing we can do. Her coven will come after us?”
Danny’s shaky breath answered for him. So did his ominous tone. “They’ll basically form a circle around the witch who provoked you at the next gathering. She’ll focus on your or Taran’s face. They’ll call forth a location spell and find you to answer for the insult.”
“But she came after us.”
“Even if you could prove to the head witch she started the trouble, it would likely only earn her a slap on the wrist. After all, she technically kept the fight shadowed from the patrons. And while that bouncer walked in on everything, she could have easily altered his memories with a simple spell.” He flipped through more pages. “Hmm.”
“Good hmm, or bad hmm?” He didn’t answer. “Danny?”
“There is something that may protect your family, but I’m not crazy about the idea.”