Page 79 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

Besides, the spells I cast on them both would wear off in an hour. If Carolina got him out of here, he’d live. I couldn’t worry about them anymore. She’d chosen her path and he his.

I flew through the doorway, mindful of any spells. There wasn’t anything in the front room, but when I tried to enter the kitchen, the dregs of one hung in the atmosphere.

“Fennel, what do you think? It’s either broken or a trap. I can’t tell which.”

He sauntered up to the edges of the spell, sleek black tail straight out, ears up. His eyes lit green for a beat then returned to their normal gold.

“Meow.” He waltzed into the kitchen, head high, and leapt onto the counter by the sink. Swiped his tail in a “come on in” sort of way.

“Cecil, be careful. Let Fennel take the lead in here since he?—”

I’d been about to say, “since he isn’t carrying gods know how many explosives in a backpack,” when pain streaked across my chest, throttling my next words.

Margaux was awake, and she was in terrible pain. I shouldn’t have been able to feel it, but she’d conveyed the emotion behind it so vividly, my body had been shocked into thinking I could.

“That way.” I pointed in the direction of the room I was certain held the witches. I recognized it from when I’d been held there. My stalker’s dried blood still decorated the walls.

Fennel paused in front of the doorway. Again, his eyes greened then returned to normal.

He nodded, and I rushed inside.

“I knew you’d make it,” Margaux rasped.

The witches were lying on the bare floor in the small room. Margaux’s face was bloodied and swollen. Bronwyn looked even worse. Her entire body appeared to be one big, inflamed bruise.

“Your sacrifice wasn’t necessary, Margaux.It didn’t help me find you one bit.” I bent over Bronwyn, felt for a pulse. It was strong.Thank the goddesses.“How do we wake her up?”

“Don’t know.” Margaux coughed, winced. “I’m sorry, Betty. I’m used to doing things alone. I was wrong not to include you in my plan.”

“Yeah, well, we can hug it out later.” I brushed a lock of Bronwyn’s hair away from her face. “What do I do to help her?”

“If I knew, I’d have done it already.” She tried to sit up.

Cecil brought her a pain charm. Maybe I should’ve had him start crafting a personalized healing charm for her when she was at the house, but how was I supposed to know she’d go rogue and get herself beaten up?

I shook Bronwyn. “Come on, wake up.”

“I think theWeret-hekau Maleficiummight have the antidote spell. Desmond asked me about it before knocking me out.”

“I know. I was there, remember?” I whipped the charm she’d given me over my head and shoved it into the back pocket not occupied by the blade. Margaux’s point-of-view minimized to the size of a stamp then disappeared.

Outside the house, a woman screamed. It was abruptly cut short.

“Carolina,” Margaux said. She sounded sad.

My urgency kicked into high gear. “I can’t carry both of you out of here—hell, I don’t know if I can even carry one of you. I might be able to use my levitate spell to carry Bronwyn, but I’d have to concentrate on it until I get her to the car and that leaves me open to attack by whatever the hell Desmond has morphed into.”

“It’s the book,” Margaux said. “It’s cursed him.”

“No shit.” I started to run my hand through my hair, remembered I’d pulled it into a ponytail, and stopped myself halfway. “To hell with it. No more indecision. I’m doing it. Cecil, get ready to defend us. Fennel, come help.”

“I can help, too.” Margaux rolled over and feebly tried to push herself up.

Fennel sat beside her and swished his tail.

“Yeah, right. If you can walk, that’ll be the biggest help. Cecil, get over here. We need to talk strategy.” I glanced at the doorway.

The gnome was gone.

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