Chapter Eleven

For the next few days, the Council chat kept blowing up.

Every time my phone dinged with a notification, my stomach twisted into a tighter knot.

Henner posted the videos that he managed to take down and scrub from the internet, as much as anything could be removed from the web, but that wasn’t going to work forever.

Henner’s Technomancy, his ability to deal with technology and build and shape things that really shouldn’t have worked in the first place, along with the magical rapport he had with computers… well, he still had his limits. As it was, he was glued to his laptop so he could pounce when Kenzie threw up the next horror show, but the man had to sleep and eat (or so we kept reminding him). And his range was limited.

If she saves her videos as hard copies, and then takes them out of town to upload them, there’s only going to be so much I can do, he’d warned us after taking down yet another video about Big Foot.

I couldn’t even blame Roy for that one. The Sasquatches Roy had brought into town (pretending to be Fifi’s harem so her well-intentioned family would back down) had been an absolute handful. Luckily, Fifi’s extended Succubus family had eased up on their anti-monogamy standpoint a little, so they hadn’t been invited back.

I can remove videos, but not the source unless I get access to Kenzie’s camera and phone. And I can’t do much if someone saves a copy before I take it down.

At the rate things were going, I was chewing my fingernails down to the quick.

Another video popped up that afternoon titled: ‘sketchy old man trapped in a mirror’. I frowned as I played it, indulging in some morbid fascination. In the frame was a bored looking Kenzie being rambled at by an elderly man in an extremely cluttered space. She let him go on for a few minutes before completely losing patience and cutting him off.

“I’m sorry, sir. Just to clarify; you were trapped on the inside of a mirror by a magic horse—is that what you’re telling me?”

I squinted, leaning closer to the screen. “Wait, isn’t that the man who owns the pawn shop over on–”

“—Poppy, focus,” Wanda snapped, looking oddly red through the cheeks. “We need to track these idiots down and get them properly re-enchanted. Then the interviews, and the videos, for that matter, will dry up, and that little menace can see herself off, preferably with a hex up the backside.”

“How can there be so many reports, and so many of them are totally unhelpful?” Imani leaned back from her hunch over the conference table. She held up one sheet of paper that was almost entirely obscured by what looked like lines of black sharpie. “Who redacts their own records?”

“That was back when Ophelia was the head of the Council,” Fifi offered apologetically. She’d brought another carafe of coffee with her, and what looked like a box of doughnuts to go with it, and I was so grateful I could have cried. “I’m actually surprised there are records of that time at all. Ophelia really just did what she wanted to, at the end of the day. Only Roy could stand up to her.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Wanda sat back, shoving a pile of file folders out of her way so she had a clear view of Fifi. “The woman had detailed notes on exactly what kind of lawn decorations people put out, but not about which humans came across supernatural situations?”

Fifi shrugged, helplessly. “Honestly, before a few years ago, we didn’t have many magic leaks to the human citizens. I don’t know if it was just that the population was smaller, or if everyone was just too scared of Ophelia and her magical NDA, but it was pretty smooth sailing.”

I happily snagged a vanilla donut with rainbow sprinkles, grateful for any kind of food. We’d been at it for hours, and we weren’t making much headway. “What would Ophelia have even done about a leak?” I asked. “I mean—that was before Wanda lived here and without Wanda, there were no witches to cast any memory charms, right?”

Fifi winced, tucking a strand of platinum blond hair behind her ear. “I’d rather not think about that.”

The donut tasted dry as sawdust on my tongue, but I forced myself to chew and swallow, anyway. My stomach would be happy for the calories, if nothing else. Ophelia had never struck me as a nice person, even when she’d sold me my house. She was a Night Hag, and they had an order of decay that withered everything around them. It still caught me off guard to think of her as a murderer, though.

Sorting through all the Council records was both slow and tedious. There were boxes of the things, just reams and reams of paper. Nothing was digital, partially for security, and partially because when the reports started, even typewriters hadn’t been invented yet.

Fifi had been kind enough to open up the meeting room of her Real Estate offices, Hallowed Homes, for us to spread out and go through all the town’s files. What there were of them anyway. Before Taliyah came to town, keeping records of incidents didn’t seem to be a major concern or a concern at all, really. There were a couple that were written by hand on what looked like rolled parchment, and sounded like something from Masterpiece theater. I found one that looked like it had been scribbled onto a bar napkin.

At least at Hallowed Homes, we had space to spread out and not be on top of each other. There was good lighting, and frankly, the leather office chairs were amazingly comfortable. If we’d tried this at the farmhouse or my shop, people would have had to sit on the floor or folded up like human pretzels. And those who weren’t members of the coven weren’t allowed into the coven house, so here we were. And I was happy for it, because we had a nice conference room with a huge table made of glass and brushed steel. There was plenty of light, and even a potted plant in the corner.

Fifi had really done well for herself. It was good to see her so happy. When I’d first moved to town, she’d been struggling to find her place. As a succubus, Fifi had been expected to flit from man to man, from party to party, feeding off sexual energy to sustain herself as a demon. Much to her family’s confusion and major disappointment, Fifi was a one-man kind of woman at heart. She wanted the husband and kids and house with a white picket fence out front.

Now, she was dating Roy, and as a Sasquatch, he had more than enough energy to sustain her without him even noticing it going missing. Or maybe it was because they were soulmates? She had her business, and with all the people flooding back into the Hollow, it had to be booming. And even in this pretty stressful time, Fifi was practically glowing, looking effortlessly gorgeous in her red silk blouse and black pencil skirt. I didn’t know how she and Wanda wore heels that tall. I’d have sprained my ankle just looking at them too long.

Fifi made a vague gesture with her hands, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do about the information we did have before us. Her nails were painted the same color as her blouse, deep red under the fluorescent lights.

“If there’s anything else I can get you, just let me know.”

Wanda slammed another stack of dusty file folders onto the table, sending a cloud up into the air. “If you really wanted, you could grab some of these, and… and she’s gone.”

It was remarkable how fast Fifi could move. I’d barely even seen the red flash of the soles of her shoes. In her defense, while she’d graciously opened up her offices to us in our time of crisis, Fifi still had an office to run and a bunch of listings to show. The world wasn’t about to grind to a halt just because I’d messed up, big time.

It wasn’t like I’d planned for it, either. I hadn’t even considered that one little potion could undo a charm like it had. It normally wouldn’t have, I was pretty sure. More and more I was certain that the surge of wild magic that I’d experienced in the graveyard was responsible for everything that had come after. I’d need to run tests, of course, but I was pretty sure the potion normally wouldn’t be able to manage what it had. Gypsy magic just didn’t work like that—it wasn’t that strong.

Of course, with Taliyah out of town, we were down two of our biggest guns when it came to dealing with a disaster in Haven Hollow—not only Taliyah, but also Maverick. That meant the Council was shorthanded, and currently running itself ragged trying to keep up with all the people suddenly regaining their memories. It wasn’t all that many, honestly. But it was way more than I thought could be possible from the amount of potion out there, and each person who remembered was such a very big problem on their own that it seemed like more.

We’d decided to divide and conquer, to try and stem the tide. It wasn’t working as well as we’d hoped, and Henner was having to slap down more and more of Kenzie’s attempts to slip videos, emails, or data out of the Hollow. It was a losing game, and unless we confronted Kenzie directly, which none of us wanted to do, no matter what Wanda was suggesting, this was the best we could do.

Wanda, Imani, and I were going through the boxes of old papers that made up Council records, while Betanya and Olga, along with their familiars, were trying to figure out a way to repair the memory charms so that even if someone took another dose of Memento Mori , it would hold. I’d given them what was left of my vial, so they could examine it. Maybe they could even figure out what the surge of wild magic had done to the potion.

Meanwhile, Roy, Lorcan, and a few others were out in the streets. They were trying to keep the madness to a minimum, and steer people, who suddenly remembered odd things happening in town, from going back to the scene to poke around. The fewer people who ended up lost in the woods, the better.

It really didn’t help that Wanda was prickly and on edge and kept shooting me dark looks over the top of the paper she was skimming. Normally, I’d have tried to talk to her about whatever was wrong, but getting Wanda to talk about anything emotion adjacent was like attempting to force a furious cat into a bucket of water. So, I pretended not to notice. We had enough on our plates without me getting cursed or set on fire.

Ignoring Wanda was starting to push the boundaries of what was believable, though. I didn’t even know that someone could shuffle papers so aggressively. She tapped her stack against the table-top hard enough that I winced. The second time Wanda shot me a glare and stacked the papers so roughly, she almost tore an entire report in half. Imani then put her own stack down with a bright smile and a lot less emphasis.

“Well, I’m going to go grab some coffee.”

She was up and out of her chair so fast it was almost supernatural. A spike of something that I refused to admit was fear shot up my spine, and I called after her. “Oh, um, but there’s coffee in here?”

Imani didn’t even break stride. She turned her head enough to call back over her shoulder to me. “Different coffee.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and it was just Wanda and me. I sighed. No more oblivious Poppy, then.

Wanda didn’t even give me a chance to ask how she was feeling. She slapped her pile of reports down on the table hard enough that a couple sheets blew up into the air, to flutter back down like wounded birds to the ebony surface.

“I cannot believe you,” she hissed.

I knew I deserved it, but I still winced at the barely contained fury in her voice. “I know, I’m sorry. I was really just trying to help, and–”

“—oh, my Goddess, spare me.” Wanda slapped her hands down onto the surface of the table, her beautifully manicured nails digging into the wood like claws. “You think I care about some run-away potion? No, Poppy, I don’t.”

“Oh.” I blinked, really confused now. “You… don’t? Then why are you so upset?”

Wanda’s lip peeled back, just enough to flash the slightly elongated point of one of her eye teeth, and she flipped her hair back over her shoulder with an overly aggressive swat. “Let me rephrase that. Am I annoyed that all my hard work is being undone? Yes, that is very annoying. I hate memory charms, and I’m not looking forward to doing a bunch more of them. But, so what? When you look at it, it’s just one more disaster in Haven Hollow, big deal. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been the next thing. It’s practically tradition at this point.”

My mouth worked, but I couldn’t seem to get it to make any sounds. Wanda wasn’t upset about the potion? But it was causing so many problems! I hadn’t meant for it to, but that didn’t negate the effect. What could I have possibly done other than that had her so pissed? Even looking at her now, she was angry enough to spit fire!

Wanda forged ahead, not waiting for me to say anything. It wasn’t a conversation yet, I figured.

“What I am ticked about, Poppy, you insufferable do-gooder, is that you didn’t come to me and tell me that something happened with your magic!” She tapped one finger in front of me, her long nail ticking against the polished surface. “And I don’t understand why? Aren’t we supposed to be best friends or whatever the sappy expression is?”

“Yes, of course we are.”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell me?” she nearly yelled at me. “Why would you pretend like everything was okay for… months, Poppy! For months, you’ve been struggling with this, and you didn’t come to me? Didn’t tell me that your power was unstable? I just don’t understand why you didn’t… trust me?”

I felt like she’d slapped me, but it didn’t negate the horrible hollow feeling in my chest. I’d hurt her, and I hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t change anything, because I still had.

“Wanda, no—that’s not what… well, I didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it. It’s just that...” I was speaking so fast, trying to get any kind of explanation out, that I was tripping over my words. “It wasn’t about trust; it wasn’t anything like that. It’s just, you had so much going on, and I didn’t want to bother you. And what happened to my magic, well… it wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, just an odd, unsettled one. Like magic was sloshing around inside of me, more than I’d ever had before.”

Her frown was a little lighter, so I barrelled on.

“There were just so many things happening, and it seemed so silly to complain to you about it, especially when I didn’t even understand it myself. And, really, I didn’t think that there was anything we could do about it. It was just a weird feeling I had. But then, in the graveyard, something just went up like a bonfire.”

Something in Wanda’s gaze sharpened. “A graveyard?”

I paused, trying to keep up with the sharp turn the conversation just took. “Yeah, I mentioned that earlier—the potion needed to be brewed on a waxing moon, in the graveyard.”

“Crap, I guess Lorcan is right.”

I frowned. “About what?”

She cocked her head to the side. “I really don’t listen when I should.” Then she shook her head. “Anyway, you brewed the potion in the graveyard.”

“Right.”

Wanda’s expression hovered somewhere between understanding and annoyance. She tapped her nails against the table, drumming a little rhythm. “And is this the first time since you tied yourself magically to a Blood Witch that you’ve created a potion in a graveyard?”

I could have slapped myself. I felt so silly. “Yes.” My voice came out small, embarrassed.

“Well.” She drew the word out, a little smug. “I guess we have an idea of why your magic might have gotten a little out of hand. You should probably stick to making potions in your kitchen, or at the candy store or Build-A-Bear something.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond before Wanda’s phone buzzed where she had it face down on the table. She had it up and against her ear before it had a chance for a second ring.

“Lorcan? What’s wrong?”

I hunched forward, eager to know what was happening. Wanda must have seen me crowding in close, because she put the phone on speaker and laid it out on the table so we could both hear what her vampire paramour was saying.

“Sorry, sweetling.” Lorcan’s Irish brogue came across the line surprisingly clear. “I was trying to ring Henner but he’s not answering his phone.”

“He’s a little busy, trying to keep little miss ‘like and subscribe’ from spilling the Hollow’s secrets across the entire internet,” Wanda snapped.

Lorcan’s sigh kicked up static on the line. “Yes, well, she’s about to kick up some trouble near the edge of town, I’m afraid.”

“Ugh,” Wanda groaned.

“I don’t know how to stop her, my love, short of picking her up and throwing her in the river.”

“You could,” Wanda said, hopefully. “You’re fast enough.”

He chuckled. “I thought the task at hand was to give her less to be suspicious of?”

I leaned forward, closer to the phone on the table. “What’s happening at the edge of town? Sorry, hi, Lorcan. I’m here too.”

“Ah, Poppy, our ever-constant ray of sunshine.”

“Well, at the moment, I’m more of a ray of anxiety.”

Most supernatural businesses were closer to the center of town, which had partially just been luck, and partially Ophelia playing favorites for years. There wasn’t much on the outskirts of Haven Hollow that would be interesting to someone like Kenzie, unless she was going to poke around some of the old, mostly condemned places in the woods. I didn’t think anyone would try to stop her, though. The worst she could find there was tetanus.

I wracked my brain. Calliope’s art gallery was out that way, but as a Muse, her powers weren’t the overt kind that would get views, or even notice from people who didn’t know who she was or what to look for. There was a gas station, but the only thing haunting about it was its prices. What could pull Kenzie out that way?

“Get on with it, Lorcan,” Wanda warned.

“I’ll keep it G rated.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile hovering around the corner of her mouth. “Just spit it out. Some of us have actual work to do.”

“While I’m just out here sightseeing,” he teased. His voice sobered again. “There’s something going on at the hotel. It seems some of the residents have decided to host some sort of drag race in the parking lot? Which, normally no one would notice, but our problem child was tipped off about a hotel that’s sometimes there, and sometimes not, so I’m thinking keeping things quiet might be the better idea.”

I felt faint. I blinked a few times, but still didn’t help. “A… a drag race?”

“Yes, threw me a bit, too, I will admit,” Lorcan said. “I didn’t even know ghosts could drag race.”

Wanda’s face scrunched up, and she looked torn between annoyed and baffled, before splitting the difference. “Are there ghost cars ?”

“Bloody hell if I know.” Lorcan did something that had the phone sputtering with static for a second. “But our problem child is about to walk right into an entire mess of nonsense.”

I was still reeling, but I tried to pull it together. “But she probably can’t see them, right?” Most humans couldn’t see ghosts. “And it’s not like the ghosts will show up on videos or photos.”

Well, mostly. Sometimes there were light orbs, or shadows. Of course, with my luck, Kenzie would be able to get a whole class picture of every wandering spirit that had taken up residence at the hotel Death himself had set up for them.

Fabric rustled over the line, probably Lorcan shrugging. “I figured, why take the risk? We’ve enough problems without adding a few more. Could someone get a hold of Darla for me, and see if she can get the spooks to keep it down, and preferably, out of the public spaces for a bit?”

Darla, the once flapper turned ghost turned living woman again by a bolt of Wanda’s runaway magic, was one of the most powerful mediums in town. Apparently being dead and a ghost yourself made for increased sensitivity to all things spooky. She’d been left kind of in charge of the hotel, once Death had needed to go on to resume his normal duties, so if anyone could keep the spooks in line, she was a good bet.

Plus, these days, even Darla by herself was truthfully not by herself. She was acting as a channel for our late Chief of Police, Taliyah’s cousin, Cain Morgan. Between the two of them, they were pretty handy at keeping the ghosts of Haven Hollow from getting out of hand.

I already had my phone out and was in the process of texting her. “I’ll ask her to head over there. And I’ll remind her to keep it as non-attention grabbing as she can.”

Wanda snorted. “Ask a fish to fly, while you’re at it.”

That was fair. A little mean, but fair. Darla had been an actress back before movies had sound other than a piano soundtrack. She’d gotten her big break when all the action was portrayed through facial expression and high drama, and she’d never really stepped away from it. Add in a penchant for slang that was a century out of date, and a need for attention that could only come from being a big, extroverted personality and, well, ‘subtle’ wasn’t really Darla’s thing.

I gave it a shot, though.

The response text came pretty quickly, and I read it aloud. “She says she and Cain are on it, and not to worry, she’s no quote unquote: ‘dumb Dora’. Also she said to tell Henner that she’ll be looking to cash her check later, but there’s a string of emojis that make me feel like she’s not actually talking about money.” I paused. “Yeah, that’s a lot of winky faces. I think that means everything is good?”

“Well, now that the possibility of ghost drag racing is sorted, I guess that means Poppy and I can get back to our entirely rewarding work with every council record since the first gargoyle to settle here thought to pick up a pen.” Wanda’s voice was spicy enough that I was surprised it didn’t peel the varnish off the table.

There was a sound across the line, like Lorcan was trying not to laugh, because he was a man who valued his undead life. “Good luck, Sweetling.”

And he hung up. Wise man.

Wanda heaved a sigh and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. One foot bobbed in the air, bouncing where she had one leg crossed over the opposite knee. “This would go so much better with cocktails.”

That surprised a laugh out of me. “You don’t think we might miss some really pertinent information if we started drinking?”

“Poppy, honestly, does it ever get tiring being the reincarnation of Pollyanna? Maybe try living a little.”

Well, if she was poking fun, then Wanda couldn’t have been too upset with me, at least. When she was really angry, her verbal barbs tended to be the kind that drew blood.

I opened my mouth, but whatever I was about to say was immediately washed out by a surge of adrenaline when both my and Wanda’s phones started chiming in unison. Henner had sent a red alert through the Council group chat, with a link.

Kenzie had posted another video.