Gretta bumped along a rutted dirt road and around a bend when she spotted a small house with an old Toyota Corolla with a mismatched hood and trunk. A child-sized dress and two adult-sized shirts hung on the porch railing, drying in the desert sun.

As she pulled up behind the Toyota, she noticed a curtain twitch. Gretta turned off her car and got out, keeping her hands in plain sight. She didn’t know if Miguel was armed, but she could imagine he was spooked if he hid away from everybody, including his mother.

She walked cautiously up to the house. When she reached the door, it swung open, and Migel stood in the doorframe with a kitchen knife in one hand and a phone in his other hand. “Leave us alone.”

Gretta took a step back. “Mr. Vega, I’m Gretta Sullivan, a private investigator. I’m not here to hurt you. Your mother paid me to find you. She thought you were in trouble.”

Miguel glowered. “My mother sent you? Did she call you from France?”

“W-what?” Gretta took another step backward. “No. She came to my office.”

He held up his phone. “You tracked us down without even trying to call to ask me where I was?”

Gretta noticed that Miguel had already typed 9-1-1, and his finger was hovering over the connect button.

“I-I… Um.” Gretta blushed. “She’s my first customer. I mean, I did an apprenticeship for another PI, but that was mostly doing the computer work.”

“Dad, I don’t think she’s going to hurt us,” a small voice said from behind Miguel.

Miguel glanced back. “Sweetheart, get back to your hiding place and stay quiet. Daddy will take care of this.”

“It feels like she’s here to help,” Sofia whispered before turning around and walking out of Gretta’s line of sight.

Miguel stared at Gretta momentarily, then set the knife on the counter next to the door. He swiped and tapped his phone a few times before holding it up.

“Is this who hired you?” Miguel asked.

“No,” Gretta said. “Who is that?”

Miguel sighed. “That’s my mother.”

Gretta had a catastrophic realization. “Damn it! I’m not going to get paid, am I?”

Behind her, she heard a raven let out a sound that resembled a human laughing. She looked up and saw it circling overhead.

She flipped it off and shouted, “Keep laughing, and I’ll turn you into spicy buffalo wings.”

“Why are you yelling at a bird?” Miguel asked.

Gretta sighed. “I’m not entirely sure that’s a bird.”

Miguel glanced worriedly at the sky and the desert scrub around the property. “You should go now.”

Gretta rubbed her temple. “I think we still need to talk, Miguel. The woman who hired me knows you are nearby. She might even know exactly where you are. And your daughter is right; I am here to help.”

“How can she know that?” Miguel asked and then sighed. “You already called her.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Miguel shook his head. “Come in. We can talk while I pack.”

Gretta followed Miguel into the small house. The main room was a combination living room and kitchen, and she spotted a door to a bathroom and a single bedroom.

“Sofia, sweetie, we need to pack up and get driving again,” Miguel said toward the bathroom.

Gretta saw Sofia climb out of the bathtub. The little girl held her stuffed bunny rabbit close and looked sad and frustrated.

“When can we go home?” Sofia asked.

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“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Miguel said as he picked up clean, dry laundry and shoved it into a backpack. “You are being very brave.”

At his words of being brave, Gretta noticed the little girl tear up and walk into the bedroom.

“Do you have a picture of the woman who hired you?” Miguel asked.

“I don’t, but I have a number. Maybe I can do a reverse lookup on it,” Gretta said.

“It’ll be a burner phone,” Miguel said. “Did she say why we’re being hunted down?”

“I had hoped you’d tell me why you were on the run,” Gretta said. “She said she was worried that somebody was after Sofia because she’d make the ideal avatar for a god.”

Miguel froze. “Did she say which god?”

Gretta wracked her brain. “She didn’t say, but I saw the damage at your apartment. Maybe you were up against some disciples of the god of destruction. I take it that you don’t know?”

Miguel shrugged. “We don’t even know what kind of magic users they are. For all we know, they are sorcerers from another pantheon of gods. Or no gods at all.”

“The magic was way too strong not to be divine,” Gretta said. “I know some people can do minor magics without a divine sponsor, but mostly parlor tricks. It’s practically not magic.”

“You’ve lived a sheltered life,” Miguel said. “You call them divine and gods, but many immortal beings are powerful and can sponsor magic. You simply need the words to talk to them and a willingness for them to respond.”

Gretta shook her head. “It’s not helpful to assume they are sponsored by some powerful immortal we’ve never heard about. The fact that the woman who hired me knew I was a disciple of the Wild Mother makes me think that she and her people also work with gods we know.”

“For the moment, I guess we assume it’s the Warlord after us,” Miguel said. “Though, I can imagine the Trickster or even the Veil to have reason to come after Sofia.”

Gretta frowned. “Why would the Veil have interest in Sofia?”

“It’s a long story, and we really should get moving before they show up,” Miguel said to Gretta. He called toward the bedroom, “Sofia, do one last quick check to make sure we don’t leave anything behind, sweetie, and then we’re heading to the car.” Turning back to Gretta, he said, “All I know for sure is that a couple of bruisers showed up at my house trying to take my little girl.” He let out a tired breath. “That’s not going to happen.”

There was a knock at the door, and everybody froze.

“Get back to your hiding place,” Miguel whispered to Sofia.

Greta closed her eyes and pulled in magic from her patron, the Wild Mother. One moment, there was a one-hundred-fifty-pound blonde, and the next, there was a seven-hundred-pound Siberian tiger glaring at the door. The low rumble coming from the tiger reverberated through the house.

The knock came again, followed by a male voice calling through the door. “Uh. Hello? You should probably know that there’s a black SUV with armed guys coming this way. They’re maybe three minutes away.”

Miguel swung the door open and quickly stepped to the side, giving Gretta a clear path.

Rowan’s eyes bulged. “Nice kitty?”

From out of the line of fire, Miguel spoke up. “Whoever you are, you should leave.”

“Sure,” Rowan said. “I was just trying to help the little girl, who will be in serious trouble unless your tiger is bulletproof.”

Miguel hesitated and then whispered, “Are you bulletproof?”

The tiger stalked forward, and Rowan backpeddled.

“Okay, then. Well, I guess I’ll be going.”

All three adults turned back to the house when they heard a sob.

“Sofia, sweetie, what did I tell you? It’s really important to stay in your hiding place,” Miguel urged.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I’m with you,” Rowan said, then whispered toward Sofia, “To tell you the truth, I think I just peed in my pants.”

Gretta let out a huff, and then magic surged again, and she became human once more. She was panting; the effort of shifting had taxed her strength.

“You’re fine, Sofia,” Gretta said between breaths. “I wouldn’t hurt you.” Then she glared at Rowan. “And neither will this bird brain.”

“I’m the good guy here,” Rowan said. “I was playing lookout to warn you.”

“Sure.” Gretta’s eyes narrowed. “And what form would one of the trickster’s disciples take? Maybe a raven? You aren’t a disciple of the Wild Mother, or I’d feel it.”

The crunch of gravel and the plume of dust from down the road made everybody look back.

“We need to go,” Miguel said. “Get in the car, Sofia.”

“Wait,” Rowan said. “The cat lady should give me her car keys before you go.”

Sofia and Miguel were already heading toward their car.

Rowan held up a small black device. “I found this. It’s a GPS tracker someone attached under your car. I was going to dispose of it, but if you let me, maybe I can lead them on a goose chase.”

The sound of the approaching vehicle’s tires on gravel was audible to even human ears.

“Gretta, are you coming with us?” Miguel asked as he swung the car around and pulled up beside her.

She sighed and tossed him her keys. “My laptop is in the trunk. Don’t lose it.”

She got into Miguel’s car, and they sped off down the road in the opposite direction of the coming SUV.

Rowan groaned. “Lead away the thugs and not break her stuff? I wonder if I remember how to drive.”

He hopped into the car and realized that it had a push-button ignition rather than a key that turned. He hadn’t driven in 25 years, but after fiddling for a few precious moments, he managed to get the car moving.

The SUV was a block away as he sped up. He had time to glance down and realize the car had less than a quarter tank of gas left. “This is going to be the shortest goose chase ever.”