Page 60 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“Stay with me, okay, Fennel? I need your skills to help me find the witches and Ronan.” I forced myself not to add the words, dead or alive, to the sentence. It was implied, though.

Fennel head bumped me.

“Thanks. Thatdeath sleepspell is bothering me. I really don’t like the idea of going in without knowing more about what it does.”

“Meow,” Fennel agreed.

“Good thing we have a resource to tap. Cecil, shut down Angry Birds. I need to use my phone.”

Chapter

Thirteen

Icrossed my fingers he’d be in. It was noon, and he sometimes went out for lunch, as he put it, “sans cell phone.”

“Hey, Betty.”

“Beau. You’re there. Thank the gods.”

“What can I do for you?” The owner of Beau’s Oddities sounded extra chill this morning. He was either high or laying it on thick for someone in the store. My bet was on the latter. He might own a head shop, but I didn’t think I’d ever seen him high.

“I need to know what adeath sleepspell does.”

There was a swishing sound, like the phone being stuffed in a pocket, and a hollered, “You have a good day, too, dude.”

The swishing sound was followed by a bell. The one on Beau’s door, I’d bet.

“Betty, what the hell are you doing?” He’d dropped the “Stoner Beau” persona. His voice was now clear and firm. “When I gave you that book on protection spells, this is not what I had in mind.”

“The spell isn’t from the one you gave me. It’s from theWeret-hekau Maleficium.”

“Even worse. I told you I don’t mess with Egyptian cursed books. Neither should you. There’s always a cost with those spells.”

“I’ve got no choice and no time to dick around. I have to know what the spell does. Can you help me? Please?” I was on the verge of tears again. Since leaving La Paloma to pick up the boys, I’d been second-guessing myself.

Should’ve gone directly to Desmond’s place the minute Margaux’s connection died. I might’ve helped her.

And you might’ve been overpowered and then there’d be no one left to save Bronwyn and Ronan.

Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve—my brain was swimming with doubt.

“Where are you? Are you driving?”

“On my way to La Paloma. I voice-dialed you, don’t worry.” I reached over and switched off the radio. KLXX was now halfway through “Miracles” by Jefferson Airplane, a song I’d always liked but didn’t particularly want to hear right now.

“Goddess, do you thinkthat’swhat I’m worried about?” He sounded almost aggrieved. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

“The La Paloma coven mother was taken down, Bronwyn Jonas is missing, and so is …” My breath caught on a sob I’d been trying to suppress. “Ronan Pallás.”

There was a pause during which I heard thethunkof something hitting the counter. A book. Hopefully, a helpful book.

“It’s finally happened? I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” The susurration of pages turning were followed by a strained sigh. “Got to admit, the revolution is coming sooner than I’d anticipated.”

I passed Wicked, which was still closed—not that I’d expected anything else—and hung a left. “I’m not looking to start some kind of uprising. I just want to find my friends.”

“Finding them is going to take an earth-shattering kind of change. Or it’s going to prompt one. Might as well accept it.” Thesound of pages turning sped up. “I think I’ve got something here. Let me cross-check this with theMartinus Tome…”

“Why? I thought that book was about wars.” I sped up as I drew closer to Desmond’s neighborhood, though I had no reason to think being there two minutes earlier would have any effect at this point.

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