“No way, Ollie,” the grizzled old hound said from behind the counter of his shop, shaking his floppy ears in the air. “You are like toxic ooze. Get out of my shop.”

It was the third apothecary shop I’d been to in a row that refused to work with me. Whoever was trying to kill me was foreboding enough to put the fear of the gods into some of the most powerful monsters in town.

“Come on, Digger,” I replied. Digger used to be a burrow hound in a previous life before a magical fungus gave him sentience, and the ole dog was never the same. Licking himself wasn’t a good enough life for him, so he set out across the world, winding up in Los Angeles. The city was a magnet for the broken and the forlorn, and nobody found salvation within its borders.

“I’m staying out of this, kid,” he grumbled. “I know I’m on my way out, but I still got a couple of good years left, and I’d like to use all of them.” He came around the counter. “You’re lucky I don’t call the scumbags that threatened me and tell them you’re here.” He pointed his paw at me. “You should be thanking me.”

“Thank you for screwing me over,” I said. “You realize this girl is going to die, right?”

Digger looked from me to Anjelica. “I’m sorry for that, but better you than me.”

“Cold,” Anjelica said. “I guess I can’t argue with that, though. I would rather you die than me, too.”

“Don’t be so understanding,” Kimberly snapped. “You’re supposed to get mad.”

“I want to,” Anjelica said, gesturing towards Digger. “But he’s just so cute.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse.” The old dog rubbed his ears. “I really am sorry.”

“Where am I supposed to go then?” I asked. “If you’re not going to help me, who will?”

The dog’s ears perked up. “What about Greta? Or Sal? They always did like money more than their lives.”

I shook my head. “They turned me away, too.”

“I was your third choice. That hurts, Ollie.” He hobbled forward, his old bones creaking. “There’s only one other shop I can think of that would even have a chance of carrying everything on your list.”

He couldn’t have been talking about— “Kitsune.”

Digger wagged his tail. The two of them once had a thing. “I know you don’t get along, but she’s hard up for cash, and she’s not picky about her clients these days.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s also dumb.”

“All the better,” Digger said.

“Thanks for nothing.” I waved him off on my way out the door. Anjelica and Kimberly ran after me.

“This isn’t going well,” Kimberly said. “We’re running out of time, you know?”

“I know!” I shouted. “I’m trying here.”

“Does anyone in this town like you?” Kimberly asked.

“Not as much as they like their lives, clearly. I have another beat on a place, but the owner…she and I aren’t the best of friends.”

“See my previous question,” Kimberly said. “Does anyone like you?”

I opened a portal, and we headed to the only other apothecary in Los Angeles worth anything. There wasn’t another quality one until Portland, and it didn’t have nearly the selection. I was getting desperate, and if Kitsune couldn’t help me, then I would have to take more drastic measures.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I will admit that the main reason I didn’t love Kitsune was her name. You can’t just name yourself the thing you are. That would be like me being named Nephilim or Kimberly being named Pixie. It was just dumb.

Kitsune had her head stuck so far up her own ass that she named herself the thing that she was so that everyone knew she was a fox-human hybrid whose Kitsune soul bonded with her as a baby, giving her foxlike ears and three tails—and she was so smug about it. On second thought, it wasn’t the name. It’s just that the name stood for every conceited part of her that I hated.

She owned Kitsune Apothecary in Koreatown, and her shop stank like incense even more than a normal apothecary. She stood tall as she glared over my list. “I think I have most of this stuff, but I haven’t seen a dragon in ages.”

“Don’t worry about that or the pixie dust,” Kimberly said.

“We should really cross those off the list,” Anjelica said. “To stop confusion.”

The Kitsune looked through the shelves behind her, moving boxes around and looking behind them. “What are you brewing, Ollie? You and your…friends.”

“That’s none of your business,” Kimberly replied.

Kitsune paused her search. “I know. I was just being polite.” She continued rooting around on the shelf. “Besides, I already know what you’re making.”

“How?” I asked.

“Would you say you’re good at your job?” she asked.

“The best.”

“So am I,” she replied. God, she was conceited. “Which one of you is the antichrist?”

“Uhhh, should we really answer that?” Anjelica asked. “Cuz—”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind. I don’t care.” She placed a small vial on the counter. “Here’s the wraith liver.” Next, she set down a sardine tin. “And the skin.” It was nearly rusted through, and the label was ripped off. “It doesn’t say it, but you are going to want to julienne this skin. Otherwise, it’s going to be slimy. Like a slug.” She walked out from the counter. “I have to go in the back for the rest. I’ll be right back.”

She wasn’t gone a minute when Kimberly turned to me with fear in her eyes. “I don’t like this.”

“Most people don’t like waiting.”

“I hate it,” Anjelica added. “Especially since my tummy is on fire right now.”

“I don’t like it either, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” Kimberly said after a painfully long silence. “There’s something about her that puts me on edge. Plus, she’s taking too long,”

“It hasn’t even been two minutes,” I said, glancing at the clock. I was a little nervous, too. “She’s gotta search for each one. It’s not like these ingredients grow on trees.”

“Thank god.” Anjelica stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Those would be disgusting trees.” She bent down to get a better look at the ingredients. “I seriously don’t want to put that in my mouth.”

“We’ll blend it with kale, bananas, and peanut butter. It will taste like a milkshake.”

She made a face. “But I’ll know.”

“Better than dying.”

“Is it?” She rubbed her stomach.

Kitsune burst out from the curtain that separated the store from the back room. “Found it!” She placed a glowing blue vial on the table. “Werewolf bane.”

“Wonderful,” I said.

“That’s the good news,” Kitsune said. “The bad news is that I don’t have any boiled spider intestine. Only dried. I put in a call to my friend, who confirmed she got some fresh this morning. She’s boiling them up as we speak.” She typed into her register. “That’ll be thirty-two thousand. I rounded down because you’re a good customer.”

I certainly wouldn’t call me that, but I didn’t have the kind of money to pay full price. Not anymore. I pulled out the only card that wasn’t maxed out and hoped it swiped through. Anjelica better appreciate living.

“Are you kidding?” Anjelica said. “That’s a fortune! And for what? This gross stuff?”

“It’s very rare, and it’s the best.”

“Do you know what that word means?” Anjelica asked. “Cuz this stuff definitely doesn’t look like the best.”

“It’ll fix you right up and prevent you from dying, so...It does look disgusting, though,” I said.

“Will it fix me, though? Cuz I definitely don’t want to do this only for it not to work. I would rather die than have this be my last meal.”

Kitsune folded her arms across her chest. “Of course, it will work. Just make sure to drink every last drop, antichrist, and you’ll be right as rain come sunup.”

“Oh man, I’m glad you finally said it,” Anjelica said. “I was getting so nervous you didn’t know what we were trying to do, and I was going to take some mystery liquid and turn into a chicken or something.”

“I told you I knew.” Kitsune eyed the clock behind her. It was four-thirty in the morning. “Oof. You’re cutting it close. You’re lucky it’s the Solstice. That’ll buy you a couple more hours.”

“Thanks for the kind words, but nothing about tonight is lucky.”

“I don’t know about that. My friend owns the best sushi restaurant in Santa Monica. Play your cards right, and she might even make you some food and It. Is. Divine!”