“You need to track her down and find her.” Betsy made it sound so easy when she said it that way. Emilia had left out the part about how she’d made a deal with the demon in the first place. “She’s your responsibly and you really don’t want someone else finding her. Or figuring out you’re connected.”

“Someone else?” Emilia asked the question with a lilt to her voice, but she had a pretty good idea of who Betsy was talking about.

“Yeah, the Infernal authorities.” This time Betsy leaned in even closer and wrote the words on the dust of the counter top. “Or the Cabal.”

“Shit.” Emilia held her head. Based on the rumors, if the Cabal got involved, Emilia was nine kinds of screwed. Immediately following her capture, they’d come down on Betsy, Max, and the other residents of the Wonders. The fact that happened to include Cynthia didn’t matter that much in the grand scheme. Betsy and Max didn’t deserve what the Cabal would do to them. No one did. Maybe Cynthia.

“I don’t know how to find her.” That was a lie.

Betsy saw through it with a raised eyebrow and a little shake of her head. The fact she didn’t call Emilia on the deception was why they were such close friends. “Well, you need to figure it out pretty damn soon. Those cops are going to chalk the Triplet’s attack up to a failed mugging.” Before Emilia could ask her how she knew that, Betsy raised her hands and shook her head. “I didn’t scan their thoughts, but I was listening into their conversation. They’re gonna put out the word to look for your girl, but unless she intends on being found, I doubt they’ll run into her.”

“Damn.”

“Maybe next time you should control your demons better?” Betsy grinned when she said it, another reason she and Emilia were such good friends.

“Thanks Bets.” Emilia held her forehead in her hands. After a few minutes of deep self-pity, Emilia mound. “What do I do now?”

“Now, you grab your keys and escort me to the Voodoo Garden.” Cynthia’s clipped tones jerked Emilia’s head out of her hands.

“What?”

“I think you heard me, young lady. Keys, escort, now!” Cynthia clapped her hands at Emilia.

When Emilia looked for Betsy, she found her best friend studiously arranging little cloth dolls on a shelf, making sure each of them faced forward as she did. Reaching over the counter, Emilia grabbed the keys to the Deathboat and turned back to face Cynthia. “Okay, let’s go!”

She tried to sound cheery. Too much moping around and Cynthia would find a new reason to punish Emilia that day. No one wanted that less than Emilia did.

Out back in the garage, Emilia opened the door for Cynthia and tried not to imagine herself in a tidy little drive’s uniform. The view in her mind would have made her laugh, if not for the fact that unbidden laughter was a good way to set Cynthia off. Driving made for a nice distraction since Cynthia would have to delay any punishments for afterwards.

The late night traffic down Sixth street was worse than usual, but not as bad as it would be on the weekend. Most of the college students waited until then to cut loose, though the dedicated partiers were still out in droves, so Emilia kept her eyes peeled for early evening drunks and other forms of idiocy. Cynthia sat quietly in the backseat.

When Emilia turned her attention back there, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cynthia knew about the demon, if she could remember the strange blonde woman slamming her head into the drywall hard enough to leave a dent. This whole drive might just be some kind of pretext for all Emilia knew. But if Emilia posed any questions to Cynthia, that would only irritate the old woman and ensure a punishment awaited Emilia back at home.

Taking I-35 south, Emilia struggled not to whistle or hum to herself. The silence Cynthia insisted on always made these trips drag on. A little music wouldn’t kill anyone. But today was not the day to tempt Cynthia’s rage with the slightest appearance of rebellion.

“What kind of summoning circle did you cast?” Cynthia’s question stole Emilia’s attention away from the road, making the car swerve a bit as she switched back and forth between the cars on the highway and the monster in the back seat.

“I… used the Dawkings circle.”

“Hmm. The containment runes are tricky on that one. You’re lucky your demon didn’t escape.” Cynthia adjusted herself in the backseat, shifting her back and sitting straight upright. “I am a little impressed you didn’t get yourself killed in the process.”

In a way, Emilia was glad Cynthia took her survival as a sign the summoning was successful. Based on what actually happened, Emilia wasn’t quite so sure herself. Rather she was sure she blew it, though she was still up in the air about whether it had been successful.

“If you could manage to summon a proper demon, you know your power would expand.” It was the closest thing Cynthia ever said to encouragement. Emilia had heard it or the like often enough from the old woman. “At least your mother’s death would be worth something.” Clicking her tongue and staring out the side window, Cynthia missed Emilia’s hands clenching on the steering wheel.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Maybe it was the rage over Cynthia’s reference to Emilia’s mother. Maybe it was the guilt over knowing her own birth killed the only family Emilia had left in the world. Maybe it was the relative safety of the driver’s seat. Emilia couldn’t say exactly what had made her so brave in the moment, but she loathed hearing Cynthia talk about her mother like that.

“I do not take orders from witches who cannot use their powers, young lady.” Cynthia’s tone breathed dragon fire into the front seat. It gave the illusion of heating the whole cabin. At least the weather was cool enough this time of year that Emilia didn’t have to suffer over Cynthia’s aversion to air conditioning.

“Yes ma’am.” Emilia locked her eyes back on the road and tried not to glare at her Godmother in the rear view mirror for the rest of the trip. At least the Voodoo Gardens would make for a pleasant diversion.

And maybe Regina would be there?

Pulling the car into the gravel drive, Emilia held her gaze away from Cynthia. A pitch black store front stood ahead of them with a giant neon sign featuring Papa Ghedi on the facade. He tipped his hat as the sign flickered back and forth between its two settings. Holding the door for Cynthia, Emilia waited for the old woman to emerge and kept her eyes glued to the storefront.

From the driveway, Emilia couldn’t see into the gardens, so she didn’t know who was working yet. Considering her options, Butch wouldn’t be bad. Either he or Regina would treat Emilia well. Cassy or Trevor would be a different matter.

“Well look who the Loa dragged in!” Butch’s rich voice greeted them as the two women walked into the nursery from outside. Emilia held the door for Cynthia and sighed at Butch’s voice. At least she’d avoided the other two tonight.

“Hey Butch! How’s tricks?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Good good, we had a large order of authentic curry plants come in late this season. And I got most of them sold in less than a week, bless Regina’s sweet little head.” He came around the counter and hugged Emilia, patting her back as he did. Turning to face Cynthia, Butch held out his hand and favored her with an elaborate bow. “Mrs Olren, it is always a pleasure to serve. How can I help you today?”

Cynthia made her polite replies while Emilia escaped the whole disgusting scene. How her Godmother managed to look so completely human and non-monstrous with other people confounded Emilia. She’d only ever been Cynthia’s victim and she had horrible difficulties dealing with other people’s BS treatment of her Godmother.

Even Butch, as kind and friendly as the old man was, set Emilia slightly on edge. He always looked as though he knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. His tradition was big into reading the lines of fate and communing with the Loa. If anyone could have guessed at or witnessed through vision the contents of Emilia’s evening, Butch could.

Before she had to ask, Emilia found Regina outside in the greenhouse tending to the lemon trees they kept within. Emilia was used to skulking about, so Regina hadn’t heard her slip through the plastic sheeting that protected the greenhouse. Good thing too, it gave Emilia a chance to admire the fit woman’s body. She wore a dark blue apron, blue jeans that looked like Regina had been sewn into them, and a tight-fitting top that exposed Regina’s belly.

Without twitching her head, Regina revealed that Emilia had lingered too long in her appreciation of Regina’s body. “You like what you see, Olren?” Stammering out a reply, Emilia choked on her words while Regina laughed. “I am just teasing you, city. You give the best reactions.”

The fact was, Emilia had been staring and she did like what she saw. If not for the fit, curvy demoness this evening, Regina would be the most beautiful woman Emilia knew personally. And Regina was a friendly magical acquaintance. Emilia had no intention of offending her. “Sorry about that Regina. I was… well I was admiring your butt, if I’m being honest.”

Regina flashed Emilia dimples as she turned and hugged her. “You being honest is also you being your best. If I was interested in women, you’d be right at the top of my list.”

That was the second of her friends who’d told Emilia that tonight. It wore a little thin already. “Thanks. What are you doing in here.”

“Avoiding Crappy and Trouble.” Regina raised an eyebrow as she used her pet names for her two siblings.

“They’re here? I didn’t see them.” Emilia looked around, waiting for Cassy or Trevor to hop out from under one of the planting tables.

“Not like that, they’re cruising the Ether. Letting the Loa ride. And those two tend to get nasty when they do.” Regina motioned to the greenhouse. “Place is warded from intrusion and Butch needs me to check on them and fertilize them regularly if they’re going to fruit out of season.” Motioning to her whole body, Regina shrugged. “Thus, I am here, avoiding the asshats.”

“Sorry about that.” Emilia fingered the fringes of her shirt. She’d forgotten anything that might have warded her today. After the failed, maybe successful demon summoning she hadn’t put any of her usually jewelry on, the stuff Max enchanted for her. The absence left her more or less protection-less. “And also, ugh. I don’t have anything I can use for the same purpose.”

Regina eyed her. “You’re hard to mess with spiritually, like you have a ward around you most times anyway. But yeah, with the Loa’s help, Crappy and Trouble could probably still get around it.”

“Should I do anything?”

Regina spat into her hand and plucked a flower from a nearby chrysanthemum. Tearing the leaves up, she sprinkled them over Emilia’s head and mumbled something in Creole. The “amen” that ended the benediction broke Emilia’s renewed focus on Regina’s body, held so close to her for the purposes of the magic. “There. That’s the best I can do for you right now. The kids shouldn’t be able to mess with you until you step off our property.”

“Thank the Gods.” Emilia would have killed to have Regina looming over her. But she changed the subject to something a little less discomfiting. “How’s the college hunt going?’

Regina beamed at Emilia. “Pretty good so far. My grades at ACC are good enough this year to transfer everything over that matters.”

“Well, dish!” Emilia tried to ignore her own sullen jealousy. She had no scholarships, no savings, and no opportunities to go to college this year or anytime in the next two years. With Cynthia holding Emilia’s living area and employment over her head, Emilia couldn’t even take night classes at ACC.

Regina’s struggles with US History, English Composition, and various other basic requirements let Emilia forget the things she hated, the ways her life brought her unasked for pain. Though her personal green-eyed monster kept her head poked up between pots, she managed to let her anger go for a few minutes.

Until someone banged on the outside of the greenhouse loud enough to wake the dead. Out here in the Voodoo Gardens, that kind of thing could get literal. Regina plucked a curled strand of shiny hair off her forehead and poked her head out of the plastic. Swearing under her breath, she returned a few seconds later and said, “That was the two resident idiots, for certain. You should get back to your Godmother and I should repair the wards on the Greenhouse. Tell Butch I’ll be in for midnight services for me?” Regina kissed Emilia on both cheeks and whispered strands of Creole in her ear as she clasped Emilia’s cheeks. Her eyes widened as she stared into Emilia’s eyes. “Wait a second, city. Did you find someone new? A gorgeous blonde with… better curves than me?”

“Crap.” Emilia’s declaration was as good as a confession. Regina put her hands on her hips and Emilia knew she wouldn’t escape without placating her friend now. “Something like that. We met unexpectedly. It was a bit magical.” That was all true without revealing too much.

Regina pressed her lips into a frown. She pulled a small vial out from between her breasts spat back into her palm. Whispering more words of power, she poured a red liquid on her hand and then let the vial swing freely while she rubbed her palms together. Staring at them, she looked between her hands and Emilia. “You are about to come into your power, girl. And… let me just say “whoa.” But first you need to find this blonde and… “make peace with her?” Not sure what that means, but I think you do. Also, try not to piss Cynthia off too much.”

“You see that in the blood?” Emilia stood on her tip toes to look between Regina’s palms.

“No girl, I just know how you operate. Something’s bothering you, so your filters and behavior will all be at their worst. Don’t let them.” This time Regina let Emilia go with nothing more than a promise to text her in the next few days with a status report.

On the way back to the main building, Emilia sorted through her feelings and the minor revelation from Regina. It was as Betsy said, Emilia needed to deal with her summoned demoness. Sooner rather than later. But that part about coming into her own power… that filled Emilia with hope. No augury had ever offered her so much as a bit of good news, so this was something of a surprise too.

It meant that Emilia didn’t see the specter of green fog approaching from behind. Nor did she see it manifest into a grey-skinned, eyeless monstrosity. Until it touched her shoulder with its mangled, rotting hand, Emilia had not even known it was there. She screamed as she turned around. A coil of power Emilia had never noticed before in her belly reached out and lashed against the zombie as she backpedaled.

Too late to stop her automatic reaction, Emilia recognized it as nothing more than a Seeming. Something between an illusion and a creation of magic. They were harmless, assuming their target didn’t have an anxiety disorder or a heart condition. The coil of power she’d directed to the Seeming didn’t care about its nature. One moment the zombie stood frozen in mid-motion, as if stunned by her instinctive attack, the next it unraveled in a cascade of red and gold fire.

Emilia laughed for a moment, then noticed how the red and gold trailers, almost like one of those coal snake fireworks, burned back through an invisible trail toward one of the maintenance sheds. Her scream had brought Regina, Butch, and Cynthia out into the yard, but Emilia ignored their presence. She had to follow that line of fire and try to stop it before it hit its target.

A scream of horrific pain and fear curdled Emilia’s belly as the fire reached its target within. She threw open the door to the shack to find Casey and Trevor sitting on overturned buckets with their eyes rolled back in their heads. Between them stood a small table with an intricate bronze statue between them that melted under the intensity of Emilia’s magic. Rather than grow fainter, her power flared brighter as it fed on whatever the bronze statue contained.

She knew in a flash — Cynthia had trained her thoroughly — that the statue was a type of conduit, a way to keep the minds and souls of travelers like Cassy and Trevor safe while the Loa rode them. If that statue melted and her power reached the two kids, something bad would happen.

Struggling to pull the power back into her body, Emilia failed as first Butch and then Cynthia pushed her out of the way and charged into the room.

The statuette continued its rapid conflagration as Butch shouted words to a prayer into the air. Overhead, sparkling figures appeared with wings across their backs. One of them wore a stove-top hat and had white paint over his darkened cheeks to form a skull shape. Both figures vanished into Butch, who hefted the burning statuette and tossed it to the ground.

It exploded into a spray of molten bronze that cooled before it struck anyone else in the room. Still chanting in Creole, Butch’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed, spitting black blood over his starched white shirt in the process.