Page 30 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“No. Lila’s. She performed the spell on a day when she knew her tenants would all be at Ms. Berry’s service, called you knowing you were too far away to stop her, and had Margaux convinced that she needed to stay away because what she was doing would harm the coven.”

Nothing Ida was saying was new to me yet laying it all out like that made it seem different, somehow. “You think Margaux was another of Mom’s victims?”

“Victims?” Ida’s kind blue eyes grew sad. “I’d never put it like that. Lila was doing something dangerous. She protected her friends in the best way she could. The only person who might be considered her victim is you. If I’m being honest, I was pretty annoyed with her for a long time for what she did to you. A last-minute text message to me would’ve saved you the trauma of finding her body.”

“It’s best it went down the way it did. If I hadn’t seen her myself,I might not have believed she was really gone—though the saguaros dying would’ve cemented it, I suppose.”

We sat in reflection for a long moment. The radio played a song I didn’t recognize, which was unusual.

Ida spoke first. “Have you ever asked Margaux exactly what happened?”

“No.” I’d been far too pissed to listen to any of her weak sauce explanations, so I hadn’t bothered.

“It occurs to me that if you want to know what’s motivating Margaux now, it might be smart to find out what motivated her not to come to your mother’s aid that day.”

“She’ll lie to me. Liars lie.”

Ida’s gaze went all the way through me to the other side, seeing everything, as usual. “If you believed that, you wouldn’t have taken that hex bag to her today.”

I brushed biscuit crumbs into a small pile on the table. “As I told Bronwyn, if I hadn’t been forthright with Margaux, I would’ve had to face down the coven. That’s not something I can handle.”

“Utter bunk. Bronwyn might’ve bought that excuse, but I don’t. I wouldn’t be your bestie if I didn’t call you on your bull.”

“Bull?”

“If you thought for a minute that Margaux Ramirez wouldn’t be rightly appalled at Desmond Mace’s behavior, you wouldn’t have gone to her.” Her penetrating gaze grabbed mine like a fist and squeezed. “The minute Cecil brought you that hex bag you’d have nabbed Maya Reeves and damn the consequences. It’s not in you to ignore someone in need, and if saving that woman meant you had to take on every witch within a hundred-mile radius, you’d have done it.”

I twisted uncomfortably in my chair as Ida’s truths wrung me dry.

“You went to Margaux because something in you believed that when it came down to it, she’d do the right thing.”

Chapter

Seven

Ispent the rest of the morning in my garden room, putting together thelucidusandsleepspells. The magic I’d absorbed from the soil flowed from my fingertips into the herbs as I assembled the charms.

My technique had been handed down by Lennox witches through the centuries, changing as ingredients became easier or more difficult to find. I chanted over a delicate assemblage of organic ingredients—usually medicinal herbs, crystals, and soil—and used my natural magic to seal them between two layers of glass, which I then soldered using lead-free foil, low-odor flux, and my mom’s old soldering iron.

Since my reconnection with the soil, my magic had been on an upswing. Before, when it was weaker, I’d had Cecil check every charm I made before using or selling it. Now, I didn’t need to. The earth here was no longer draining me. It wasn’t powering me as much as it should, but as I’d assured it and myself last night, we’d get there.

The charms finished, I placed them in velvet bags andtucked them into the pocket of my tote, which was really a classic black Kate Spade bag that I’d had tailored to add tons of inner pockets.

“Hey.” The low, growly voice floated through the open doorway. Startled, I dusted a pile of herbs off my workstation. A sprig of rosemary landed on Fennel’s furry head.

“Ronan?”

Some security system I had.

Fennel was snoring in his bed under the planter containing his namesake, and Cecil was nowhere to be seen. The park protection spell wouldn’t alert because I’d given the man a stone key and permission to enter, but a heads-up would have been nice.

He leaned against the door frame. He was wearing his work clothes and given the time of day and the dark circles under his eyes, I wasn’t sure if he’d changed into them before coming here or hadn’t yet slept. “Sorry I didn’t call first. I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to do it in person.”

“You’re already canceling Friday’s date? You asked yesterday. This has to be a new record.”

I patted my hair. I’d braided it to keep it out of my way while I was working, and some had come loose, forming a halo of frizz due to the humidity in the room. I was wearing shorts and an old T-shirt and my feet were bare. My face, too. My moisturizer wasn’t even tinted. I’m sure I looked glorious.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

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