Page 24 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

With that boost of confidence, I held out my dusty arms and waited for the burn as the soil vaporized and was absorbed. It came like a skulking thief, stealing my breath. My blood boiled with magic. I grounded myself one last time, taking care to keep the power in check.

Last thing I needed was to accidentally unleash it on Margaux and start a war with the entire coven. Taking on Desmond Mace would be trouble enough.

Cecil hummed, and I sang along with Freddy Mercury when Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend” came on the radio. The gnome had pretty good pitch.

“Starting to think they gave the empath DJ the day off,” I said, when the song switched to “Sentimental Lady” by Bob Welch and then Carole King’s “You’ve Got A Friend.”

Cecil didn’t appear to hear. He was too busy singing along with Carole.

Coven Mother Margaux lived in a two-bedroom bungalow on the poorer side of a rich part of town. There was new paint on the outside of her house and freshly planted marigolds in the garden.

They were wilted.

Like Bronwyn, Margaux was a taught, or made, witch. Her official title was “certified white magic witch.” Some elementals looked down on made witches. I wasn’t one of them, and neither my mother nor grandmother had been, either.

I recalled a porch swing chat with Mom late one winter night.

“Made witches are every bit as dangerous as an elemental. Possibly more. They chose to study magic where it was thrust upon us. Never underestimate a taught witch—especially one with aspirations.”

Margaux was definitely a witch with aspirations.

My polite knock was met with a melodic, “Be right there.”

Behave yourself, Betty. Best behavior required.

My mother’s words.

Don’t punch Margaux in the face, no matter how punchable her face is.

Those words? All mine.

I glanced down at the depressed marigolds, pushed a little magic into the soil, and watched the blooms lift their ruffled faces to the sky.

A breeze lifted the ends of my hair, cooled my back and shoulders. The sun was high in the late morning sky, but it wasn’t the summer orb of fire. This was spring sunshine, the desert summer’s kinder, gentler cousin.

“Couldn’t resist, could you?”

Margaux stood in the doorway. I hadn’t heard the door open. I’d bet a thousand bucks she’d used a muffling spell to hide the noise so she could sneak up on me. It felt like something she’d do.

“It wasn’t a slight. I saw the flowers suffering and was compelled to help.” I’d thought the comment equitable, considering the powerful hatred I had for the witch standing before me.

Margaux Ramirez was Cinderella’s stepmother, Snow White’s evil queen, and puppy-fur-coat-wearing Cruella de Vil all rolled into one.

Her skin was pale olive, her hair glossy black with a streak of silver at her temple. She was only forty, but looked older in an over-polished, cold sort of way. She was gloom to Bronwyn’s cheer, and diabolically pragmatic where Bronwyn was sweetly practical.

Margaux was suspicious of everyone but, if the look in those cruel hazel eyes was any indication, especially me. That was fair, because I would’ve loved nothing more than to see her pay for what she’d done to my mother. Or, rather, what she hadn’t done, which was come to her aid when she’d needed help most.

“What brings you here? Is this the day we finally square off?” Her dark red lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. “Have you come to challenge me?”

“Aww, have you been waiting for me to come for you?” I gave her a snide grin. “Sitting here trembling in your silent house with only your treasonous witches and dying marigolds to keep you company?”

Cecil gripped the hair at the back of my neck. He didn’t seem to like Margaux, which showed the gnome occasionally had good sense.

“Treasonous witches? In my coven?” She ratcheted up the evil queen vibe and added an eye roll. “Perish the thought.”

I inwardly sighed. Margaux was steeling herself for whatever bullshit she thought I was bringing to her door. I needed her not to do that. I needed her to listen to me.

“Look, as fun as it is to verbally spar with you, I do actually have an issue you need to be made aware of.”

---