Page 61 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“Paranormal wars.Witchwars,” he said.

“You think this spell is warfare?”

“All magic is warfare. Some of you use it in peacetime, is all.”

I didn’t agree, but I didn’t have time to argue about it. I pulled over a block down from Desmond’s house, behind my orange Mini parked a half block up. Put the LTD in park and let it idle.

“So, what I’m seeing here is the spell has several iterations. If we’re going from nastiest to nice, adeath sleepspell can either put you in a coma or down for a nap. It’s most often used to drop the spelled into suspended animation. It’s actually not all bad. Magicals have paired it with healing spells to good effect.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Alpha Floyd and the coven are using it to benefit anyone, Beau.”

“No, they’re more likely to use it to take down an enemy.”

“Or two or three,” I said.

Beau let out another strained sigh. “What kind of trouble are you in, Betty Lennox?”

I didn’t see any reason not to tell him. So, I did. All of it. Right down to what I had planned for the next few minutes. Someone besides Ida and Gladys should know, in case…

In case.

“Holy shit. You sure about going in there? Why now?”

“No sense waiting. Just gives him more time to plan.”

The sound of pages riffling and the thud of books landing on the counter came over the line. “That spell is no joke. If the person under it isn’t given some sort of sustenance, they’ll eventually starve to death. Most of the body’s other functions can be slowed to nearly a stop, but the brain needs food.”

“All the more reason not to wait.”

“I guess, yeah, but you gotta be careful, kid.”

“I will.” It was another version of my patented “I’m fine,” because there was no way anything I was about to do could be construed as careful.

“Check in with me when you’re out of there. Text or something. Anything. I want to know you’re okay.”

“Um, I’ll try, but?—”

“Dead serious here, Betty. I promised your mom I’d— Look, just text. A thumbs-up emoji, or the letter ‘k.’ Something.”

I told him I would, and we ended the call.

“Another one, Mom?” I asked the ceiling.

It was weird to think of the otherworld as up or down, but years of human movies had conditioned me to think angels floated around in the sky and devils burned beneath my feet.

“Did Beau know what you were doing, too?” I laughed humorlessly. “Of course he did. Who else would’ve helped you with the information you needed to make those hex bags? Did you find the spell in one of his grimoires? Are you happy that you turned all your friends into liars?” I was angry with her, but mostly I was tired of her machinations from beyond the grave.

So godsdamned tired.

I stared through the windshield at Desmond’s house then glanced down at the guys. “Let’s get closer.”

I drove the LTD directly behind my Mini. With an angry jerk, I rammed the car into park, killed the engine, and opened my door.

“You’re up first, Cecil. Do your dirtiest.” We were giving him a head start to do his part, since he was handling the hex bags. “Well, notyourdirtiest. You know what I mean.”

He chattered something to Fennel, who meowed back. He rubbed his tiny hands together then scuttled out of the car and disappeared into the same bush he and Fennel had hidden in a day—Has it only been a day?—ago.

“I feel like I might’ve given him carte blanche to blow up the house.”

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