Page 91 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

No.

Not Cecil.Iwould craft ahealcharm for her.

I started the car and turned on the radio. “The Night Chicago Died” by Paper Lace blasted through the speakers. I backed out from behind the hay bales and pulled onto the main road. The other four rats hadn’t shown up, though I’d given them a couple minutes once we were at the car. Any more than that, and we’d have been asking for a Pallás wolf attack. As it was, he was going to be gunning for me as soon as he healed, which would be fast.

He might be an alphahole, but he was a powerful one.

And I still didn’t have Ronan.

But I did have Mason’s assurance that he wasn’t dead, whatever that was worth. Surprisingly, it seemed to have more value than I would’ve thought, because I believed him.

I docked the LTD in Ida’s parking place and shut off the engine. I’d have to send her the gas money through the cash app she’d made me install after accusing me of being “too old-fashioned about money” because there was no way I was stopping anywhere with two knocked-out witches, seven cats, two rats, and Cecil.

Maya, Alpha Lydia, Kale, and Denzel—all four in human form—met us in the parking lot with Ida. Maya and Lydia carefully extracted Bronwyn from the backseat, while Ida oversaw Kale and Denzel’s extraction of Margaux. Fennel led five of the six kittens across the lot to the garden room. The tripod Fennel twin stuck close to Cecil, who, for all his grumbling, appeared to genuinely like the tiny feline.

The rats followed their alpha, and I followed them all with my bag and Cecil’s backpack of flammable tricks.

Ida mouthed the word, “Ronan?” and I shook my head. My nose twitched, and my eyes itched, but I managed to keep from breaking down.

On the outside, anyway.

We put Margaux and Bronwyn on my bed, and I set to work in the garden room crafting the charms that I prayed to the goddesses would rouse them.

Three hours and much tripping over rambunctious kittens later, I had the charms. The rats—except for Maya, who hadn’t left Bronwyn’s bedside—had long gone home. Ida, too, since leaving her bonded plant, Meredith the Mictlan mandrake, alone past midnight was not a good idea.

When I finally dragged myself into the house at five a.m., everything was quiet.

“Any changes?” I asked.

Maya stretched out her legs and yawned. She’d moved one of the wooden kitchen chairs to the bedside, which couldn’t have been comfortable. “Not from Bronwyn. Margaux woke up at one point and asked for a drink of water. Thepaincharm you gave them seems to have worked well. At least, on her.”

“Good to know.” I fastened the personalizedhealcharm necklace I’d crafted around the ex-coven mother’s neck and tucked the charm itself under her blouse so that it rested on her skin.

Her mouth curved. Eyes closed, she murmured, “Thank you, Lila.”

Maya and I looked at each other.

“It’s Betty, Margaux,” I said softly. “And you’re welcome.”

I did the same thing with Bronwyn’s charm. I’d taken particular care with hers, even referring to that disgusting cursed grimoire of Desmond’s to ensure I counteracted the curse. But when I slid it against her cold skin, she didn’t react at all. Her breathing remained slow and even, her limbs stiff, and her eyes shut.

I blew out a frustrated breath.

“Maybe it takes time?” Maya looked hopeful.

“Maybe,” I said.

I didn’t believe it. We should’ve seen something—a flutter of her eyes, movement of her lips, even a soft gasp—but we’d gotten nothing.

“I’m going to keep working.” I walked to the doorway and paused. “Thanks for staying with them.”

“Betty?”

I turned, looked at her. “Yes?”

“You have no idea what you’ve done for me. You pulled me out of my own personal hell. I willneverforget that.”

“Bronwyn is who you should be thanking. She’s the one who hired me to find you.”

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