Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: Michelle

Chapter 2: Michelle

Chapter 3: Michelle

Chapter 4: Elron

Chapter 5: Michelle

Chapter 6: Michelle

Chapter 7: Michelle

Chapter 8: Michelle

Chapter 9: Elron

Chapter 10: Elron

Chapter 11: Michelle

Chapter 12: Elron

Chapter 13: Michelle

Chapter 14: Michelle

Chapter 15: Elron

Chapter 16: Michelle

Chapter 17: Michelle

Chapter 18: Elron

Chapter 19: Michelle

Chapter 20: Michelle

Chapter 21: Elron

Chapter 22: Michelle

Chapter 23: Michelle

Thank You

Also by N. E. Conneely

About the Author

Connect with N. E. Conneely

A WITCH'S TRIAL

N. E. Conneely

Copyright © 2015 N. E. Conneely

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author. This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are made fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

To Nana,

because these books have

made you smile and laugh.

Tom and Dad, your support was invaluable.

SJ, thank you for much-needed perspective.

Chapter 1: Michelle

Tears gathered in my eyes as I watched Elron page through the book. His hair blocked my view of his face, but I could see his hands shaking. He turned the last page and back cover, closing the book. Elron held the book between his hands, shoulders shaking, and the strong man I'd come to know regressed into a youth stricken by his first broken heart.

"Do you want me to stay?" I blinked rapidly as the tears escaped my eyes.

Minutes passed with us sitting in silence.

"Do you want me to get Landa?"

Elron's shoulders continued to shake, but he still didn't answer.

I scrubbed the tears off my face. "I…I'll be next door if you need anything. D…don't hesitate to ask." I stood to leave the room, then stopped when I reached his side. "I'm sorry."

Through the closed door I heard him sobbing. I leaned against the door, wishing I could go back and undo this pain, but there was no rewind button.

My brain briefly moved past our shared pain and patched a few coherent thoughts together. Demons could create sorceresses, so it stood to reason Gremory had created Carrie, the sorceress who'd helped free the trolls. The creature breeder had references to Gremory in her house. Ergo, Carrie and the creature breeder worked for the same demon, Gremory. I didn't have an angry troll lover hunting me. Instead, I had a demon threatening to kill me because I'd ruined three parts of its plan.

A demon was after me.

The strength left my legs, and I slid to the ground, crying my own tears.

I could still hear Elron crying when I got off the floor and stumbled into my apartment. Closing the door behind me effectively blocked out the sobs escaping his room. They were replaced by silence and the soft static that came from listening too intently. My footsteps disrupted the nothingness, and one by one, the lights chased away the shadows. If only flipping a switch would chase the shadows from my mind.

Standing smack-dab between my living room and kitchen, my thoughts began to circle. I should have found a better way to show Elron the book. There must've been a softer, kinder way to break the news. Perhaps Landa, or an elven friend of his, should've been there. He had more secrets that he'd shared with me, and more than a few of them were related to Sylvia's death. Longtime friends might have been able to reach him when I couldn't.

I shivered and did my best to focus on something, anything, else. A dust ball in the corner attracted my attention, and I rushed into action. If there was one dusty corner, there would be more. I hauled the vacuum out of a closet and attacked. The trim between the wall and ceiling was my first target. It hadn't been cleaned in months. The shape of the molding was wrong to collect dust—it was wider at the ceiling and tapered until it met the wall—but I sucked up some cobwebs and a few webs that still had spiders on them. Usually I would leave those guys alone, but my recent experience with spiders had been less than positive.

When the trim was clean, I turned my attention to every horizontal surface above the floor, vacuuming and dusting in equal measure. The floor was my next mark, and I attacked it with the same focused vigor I'd used before. As long as I thought about vacuuming, I didn't have to think about the broken man living next to me or my part in his most recent heartbreak.

I turned off the vacuum, and the silence rushed back. In the silence, I could almost hear my voice recounting every move I should've made and every choice I could have changed. I turned on the radio and started scrubbing the bathroom. When I finished there, I returned the cleaning supplies to their home and washed my hands.

The running water broke the delicate balance I'd found. I ended up on my bed, crying. The radio wasn't doing a Narzel-blasted thing to help me.

The tears running down my face and the ache in my soul didn't care which song or commercial was on the air. All that mattered was my pain and his. His pain wasn't something I could fix, and time was the best remedy for mine. Being alone wasn't helping, because I couldn't get away from the thoughts long enough for the pain to dull.

As soon as I got my eyes under control, I tossed clothes and toiletries in a bag and called Mom.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom," I said, rubbing tears off my face with my sleeve.

"Hi, Michelle. I was about to call you. Greg and I want you to come over for dinner."

"Oh, sure." I sniffled and wiped my nose on a tissue.

"What's wrong? It sounds like you're crying."

"I've had a bad day. Could I stay with you tonight? We could do the family dinner."

"Of course. You're always welcome here. Are you sure you're all right?

"I'm sad, not hurt. I'll be there in an hour."

"Be safe. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom." Before she could hang up, I said, "Thank you."

"Anytime." I could hear the smile in her voice.

When I fled my apartment, I didn't hear a sound from Elron's place, but that could've been the earmuffs I was wearing.

*******

Mom's hand stroked my hair again, and a few more tears trickled down my cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

I shook my head ever so slightly. Talking wouldn't help right now.

"Okay, but I'm here when you need me."

She continued to run her hand down my hair, and I stayed curled up against her with my head resting on her lap. I heard her say a quiet thank-you, and the empty box of tissues vanished, replaced by a box with a tissue sticking out the top. Unclenching my hand, I tossed the dirty tissue in the trash and replaced it with a fresh one.

I'd never forget the anguish in his voice. The book, and the secrets it contained, had opened a barely healed wound. Maybe I would've felt better if he'd let me comfort and watch over him, but we weren't good enough friends for me to stay without an invitation. Hopefully, he'd called Landa or another friend to his side. It wasn't good for him to be alone. That was the type of news that could destroy a man, especially one as fragile as Elron.

Why did it have to be a demon? There were plenty of nasties that could have been making a ruckus without the long-forgotten great-grandfather of all evil showing up. Now I had to figure out how to fight something that had been in hiding long enough for the stories about them to pass into fable. That was a tall order for a young witch.

A spell wafted over me, but I didn't care enough to brush it away. As I drifted off to sleep, I silently thanked whichever parent had been kind enough to help me sleep. I woke up to the sound of dishes clanking and voices murmuring.

In the bathroom, I splashed water over my face. After resigning myself to puffy eyes and a red nose, I meandered into the kitchen. Mom was stirring a pot on the stove, and Dad was setting silverware next to the plates on the table.

"Michelle, you're up." Dad smiled.

I nodded. "What's for dinner?"

Mom turned away from the stove and looked me over, no doubt to see if I was up to par. "Pasta with a red sauce, sautéed mushrooms, and asparagus. Leftover Kalamata olive bread is in the oven, turning into olive-garlic bread."

"Yum, thank you." I looked away, blinking furiously as I tried to stop my eyes from overflowing. After our date, I'd had visions of Elron and myself talking and laughing over homemade dinners and my pathetic attempts at cooking.

"Are you all right?"

I cleared my throat. "I'm as good as I'm going to be right now. Could you guys do something for me?"

They looked at each other before focusing on me.

"Can we pretend I came over for quality time with my parents? Let's say Dad and I are working on getting to know each other, and we'll ignore the crying, sadness, and puffy eyes."

"Will you tell us what's bothering you when you feel better?" Mom asked.

I nodded.

Dad smiled, winked, and said, "Michelle, it's good to have you over for dinner. With the excitement, we haven't spent much time together as a family."

Mom shook her head at the two of us before turning back to the stove. Dad and I didn't have the best relationship. Due to some witch politics and Mom's mother being crazy (or so they said), Dad had absented himself from our lives to keep us safe. The past few weeks had been a rapid education on parental relationships. It would take time to get us back on solid footing, but I didn't doubt his love for Mom or me.

I forced the corners of my lips up into something resembling a slight smile. "I was so happy to get the invitation. I needed a relaxing evening."

"Michelle, could you make a pot of tea for us?" Mom set a kettle on the stove.

Picking a box of jasmine tea up off the self, I marveled at the variety of Mom's collection. The pantry door had rows of shallow shelves packed full of bags and canisters holding dozens of teas. I'd inherited my love affair with tea from my mother, though my tea rack had only a paltry twelve varieties.

The kettle whistled, and I pulled it off the stove while Mom fished the garlic bread out of the oven. A couple of minutes later, I carried the pitcher of tea over to the table where Dad was setting out our mugs.

Before long, we were passing around serving dishes. It felt normal… and fake. From the outside, we looked like a regular family having dinner; however, there was no hiding our lack of familiarity with this ritual. I wanted to be bothered by our overcompensation, but I didn't have it in me. Today I was happy that we were pretending. I would pretend with everything in me if it meant I could push the hurt away for a few minutes.

Maybe if I pretended enough, the fake feelings would be real. We would be a real family, comfortable and happy around each other. Elron would be himself again, not the wounded person I'd left behind. If I were extra lucky, I wouldn't hurt inside.

"The garlic bread is really good, Mom." Some things were real, like the bread. It was real and delicious.

She smiled. "I'm glad you like it. I had the olive bread and couldn't resist."

We lapsed into an awkward silence. You could blame it on me. Both of them would look at me, glare at the other, focus on their food, and repeat the process. They could've worn signs proclaiming them concerned and curious parents and been less obvious. I couldn't begrudge their curiosity since I'd arrived on their doorstep without an explanation and had all but forbidden them to inquire about the circumstances.

Tomorrow, I promised myself. Tomorrow I'd tell them everything.

Dad cleared his throat loudly enough that Mom and I turned to look at him. He ducked his head, and his cheeks turned pink.

"Sorry," he said.

"It happens," I said.

Mom sighed and set down her fork. "Michelle, I know something is bothering you. You're still my child, but you are an adult, and I trust you to tell me in your own time. This is a less-than-ideal time to mention it, but there's something Greg and I need to discuss with you."

I sat there with a forkful of mushrooms halfway to my mouth. The fork came to rest against the plate, and I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind. I was numb, insulated from shock by virtue of pain. In the seconds she took to look at Greg and steady her nerves, I didn't have the energy to speculate or worry about the next blow to my ragged life.

She focused on some point over my head and started talking. "As you know, we want to get married. We would like you to come to the wedding and reception."

"When are you getting married?" I was so glad they'd told me about wanting to get married before now. I hadn't had time to think about it, but time did make the idea less startling. Besides, they might not have done everything right, but they'd tried to do their best for me. It was hard to fight against that kind of love.

"Two weeks from tomorrow," Mom said.

"Two weeks? That's not much warning."

Dad looked over at me. "We would have given you more warning, but this is sudden for us too."

"But you just mentioned marriage the other day…" My voice trailed off, lacking heat.

"We told you as soon as we made the decision," Mom said firmly.

I moved my jaw, but nothing came out. Clearing my throat solved the issues and gave me a moment to gather my thoughts. "Eh, um… I think I need some time to get used to the idea."

*******

I woke up feeling foggy and tired. Halfway through my shower, I began to feel human and my brain started working. Yesterday's pain rushed back, and it was all I could do to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn't help my eyes or my mental state. It took some deep breathing, but I calmed my thoughts and put some distance between myself and the heartache. It wasn't a solution, but it would buy me some time.

In my head, Landa was tartly informing me that I needed to face my emotions so I could grow and heal. Hiding was a temporary solution. She was right, and Elron was a prime example of avoidance not leading to a resolution. No matter how much I wanted to pretend the past few days hadn't happened, I needed to find my peace with recent events.

On my way out of my room, a piece of paper crinkled underfoot. Kneeling down, I picked it up and unfolded the page. It was a note from Mom, reminding me that the two of them would be at work. I was to make myself comfortable and stay as long as I liked.

After breakfast, I curled up on the sofa with a novel, but I couldn't keep my mind on the story. Between the Elron, Sylvia, her diary, and the demon, there was plenty to think about, and the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

It just so happened that Sylvia could hide her actions from Gremory. She'd also hidden the journal from him for years and presumably carried it to Adder's house without the demon noticing. Her husband was, conveniently, the elf staying in the apartment next to mine. On top of that, I could share dreams with Elron, and Sylvia had managed to invade my own dreams. Could coincidence really stretch so far?

Perhaps I had the right of it and more than chance was at play. Elron had a Call, which was reason enough for him to be tangled in this mess. I didn't know enough about the Calling to judge how much of his involvement was due to that. If logic applied, then perhaps I was on a similar path. After all, I did have the mark of an Ieldra.

Abandoning any pretense of reading, I went into the kitchen and made myself a brew. With any luck, it would reduce the pounding in my temples. I must've done a good job, because I relaxed enough to fall asleep shortly after lying down.

When Mom came home, I was crying again. She gently pulled me onto her lap and stroked my hair. I must have drifted off again—at some point I should start to feel rested, but right now I couldn't get past the groggy, fuzzy feelings. I blamed the emotional turmoil. It wasn't good for the body.

I opened my eyes to find my father kneeling down in front of me, a steaming mug of tea in his hand.

"Will you please talk to us? We want to help."

Nodding, I tucked myself against the arm of the couch with a blanket tossed over my lap and feet, my hands curled around the tea. Mom patted my foot before getting up stiffly. Dad took her place, a cup of tea in his hands. He didn't say anything as he watched me take a few sips. Mom returned and sat in a chair across from the couch.

"I'm not sure it's my story to tell." I found the courage to speak, but I couldn't breathe the important words into the world; it would give them weight and power.

My mother spoke before the silence could grow heavy. "You're an adult now, and I can respect that, but as a mother, I want to know what made my baby cry."

"And as a father, I want to know who to pummel." Dad said the words lightly, but the look on his face told a different story.

I needed to tell someone who could help me make sense of things, and my parents usually had good insight. "It's a difficult series of events to explain, so please be patient with me."

So I told them of the dream with the woman who had strange eyes and of the night we rescued Amber, this time including details I'd left out before, like the woman dropping the book. I still didn't mention the part about having seen her in my dreams. I had to take a gulp of tea before I told them most of what was in the book. Then I told them about giving it to Elron and how the last entry had hit him hard.

I tried to phrase the last part so they didn't think we were in a relationship. It might be odd for me to be this upset about hurting a friend, but I didn't want to answer questions about dating a man older than either of them. It was hard to tell if it worked, but they didn't focus on that part of the story, maybe because the demon was a powerful distraction.

"Like I said, I don't know if anything in that book was the truth. It doesn't seem plausible," I finished. Perhaps Sylvia's story was unlikely, but it did explain things. I sat there, watching them watch me, and I knew my life was about to get a lot more complicated.

"Michelle," Mom asked, "what did you say the book said?" Her knuckles were white, and her fingers were digging into the arms of the chair.

"It said a demon was using Sylvia as its host." Each time I said it out loud the reality of the situation hit me a little harder. There was a demon, and his name was Gremory.

"Are you sure that's what the book said?" Dad asked.

I nodded. Twisting the mug in my hands, I tried to find a warm spot, but the tea wasn't hot enough to soothe this worry. "It stated clearly, on several occasions, that the demon wanted Sylvia for a reason, something about her being a more resilient host. It also said the demon rotated between Sylvia and a male host." I swallowed. "I know what the book says, but you always told me that demons are extinct."

"That is the story," Dad said. "Demons have faded into lore for that very reason. I may be able to find some books that have information on them, but that's the extent of my knowledge."

"What if the book is wrong and there isn't a demon?" Mom's voice wavered.

For some reason, I had the feeling she was clinging to any hope that this wasn't as serious as it sounded. Even though I didn't believe my words, I told her what she needed to hear. "That's a possibility."

"There's no way to tell if the story is fact or fiction. Normally it isn't much of an issue. You can check the work against other sources and research the author. In this case… I don't know if there are reliable sources. Even if there are, Nancy could be right. The book could be a diversion to keep you occupied while this woman causes trouble." Dad frowned and tapped his fingers.

A few minutes passed while we all reflected on the situation. At least, I assumed that's what they were thinking about. I was working on keeping my mind empty. Every time a thought crept in, it made me feel worse. Demon or no demon, Sylvia or impostor, they each came with their own set of worries and issues. And when those thoughts came to mind, I couldn't help but think about Elron. I could still hear his sobs, an expression of pain I couldn't put into words.

"I doubt there is a demon running around town. Even if some survived, why would they have waited this long to show themselves? They've been relegated to lore for years. And really, why pick Ellijay?" Dad asked.

Forcing my lips into a smile, I said, "Why Ellijay indeed. It wouldn't be high on my list of places to start trouble. The town is close enough to other towns and large cities to ask for help, and small enough to be unimportant."

"Exactly. It's still worth researching, and being prepared. I've no doubt evil is causing trouble, but a demon? That doesn't add up," Dad said.

The corners of Mom's mouth weren't pinched, and Dad wasn't frowning anymore. If that logic made them feel better, good for them. I didn't buy it.

I forced my body to relax against the sofa and replied, "When you say it like that—the stress had made it hard to get perspective on these things."

They nodded, nearly in unison. There, I'd managed to agree without telling a blatant lie. If only I believed those words.

*******

I knew it was a dream from the moment it started. It couldn't be reality, because in the real world Elron was alone in his room, grieving, and I was in bed trying to block out my own pain.

Right now I was standing next to the pond of glow koi fish, gazing into Elron's blue eyes. His hand gently cupped my cheek, and he smiled as he pressed his lips against mine.

He pulled back enough to whisper, "Oh, Michelle."

If he said anything else, I didn't hear it.

We broke apart, breathless. He sat on a rock at the edge of the pond and pulled me down beside him. Minutes ticked by as we soaked in the atmosphere. The sun was setting, and through the glass we could see the red and orange lights of its evening show. Across the path, a giant healing aloe plant emitted a glow that cycled through different shades from a light mint to a hunter green.

"Look." Elron pointed at a tree limb above us where three hummingbirds had gathered. As we watched, a purple one chirped, and the three of them began, well, humming like a human would. It was akin to the sound I would make if I was humming, but it was soft and enticing, a blend of human humming and gentle guitar music. The sound alone would've made it remarkable, but to hear three small birds trade off harmonies, melodies, and the rotating parts took the performance from lovely to fantastical.

"You didn't tell me you had singing hummingbirds." If he had, I would've rushed over to see them. They were rare and, other than their distinctive song, were indistinguishable from their mundane, if anything that colorful and remarkable could be called such, cousins.

"I did not wish to get your hopes up. There was no reason to expect them to stay. They were inside, flittering from bloom to bloom, when I arrived at work three days ago. The vent has been left open in case they want to leave. So far they have not been inclined to do so."

"I hope they stay." The birds synchronized their song, finished with a three-note crescendo, and zoomed away.

Turning to look at him, I smiled. At that moment, I was happy. Totally and completely overcome with joy and contentment. "Thank you. This was magical." Laughing, I tried to properly express my feelings. "This place is always magical, by the nature of the plants and creatures, but tonight was special. Thank you."

He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. "A magical woman deserves nothing less than a magical evening."

Three small lights zipped over to me, twisting around me, darting under my arms.

"All right, all right! I'm coming." I hopped up and conjured six lights of my own, sending three to play with the lights circling me and directing the rest to play with the glittering apricot hibiscus. Giggling, I let the lights chase me to the back of the greenhouse. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elron's posture change.

As I neared the hibiscus, flashes shone through the leaves of the surrounding vegetation. Rounding a corner in the path, I found the tree awash with lights. My three sparks were playing with the tree's wisps. They swirled around me, then darted in to touch my skin and left a tingle behind.

Giggling and smiling, I played with the tree, teasing its lights with glitters of my own, pushing them with gentle puffs of air. My ears caught the hum of the birds, and the background music shifted into something new. Before I knew it, I was dancing with a dozen sparkles as my partners. Turning and swaying, I caught sight of Elron standing at the bend in the path, looking at me with an expression that was shifting from bemused to stunned.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I pushed the lights away from me as I approached him.

"It's you," he said. "It's always been you."

Puzzled, I came to a stop a few feet from him.

"This shall be a wretched mess when my conscious mind reaches this realization."

His gaze was sharp and his eyes glad, but I didn't trust him. Our dreams, be they shared or not, had never progressed like this for me. I couldn't read him. His open expression had been replaced with his version of a poker face, the arrogant mask he'd worn when we first met.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me." Even as I said it, I knew I wasn't going to like what I heard. If Elron's conscious mind wasn't involved in this dream, his actions were based on his subconscious. Logically, I knew that only parts of our brain were involved in our dreams, but to the best of my knowledge, I always remembered what happened.

Elron shook his head. "If I tell you, it will complicate things. Either your behavior will change or you will want to rush events. This needs to happen in its own time and place."

"Well, that's a grand way to spoil a lovely not-in-reality date," I said dryly.

He folded one hand over his waist and the other behind his back, giving me a shallow bow. "My lady, you have my most sincere apologies. When things are settled, I shall do my best to amend this slight."

I stood there, staring at him without fully comprehending. This wasn't the Elron I usually encountered. Was the fragile man I had come to care for the real man, or was this self-assured, confident man the real Elron? What would I do if this independently functioning fragment of Elron was more than a dream? That would be a complication I couldn't balance right now.

"Don't worry so," he said.

My eyebrows did their best to merge with my hairline.

"Your face has been shifting from one emotion to the next. It was not difficult to see the conflicting feelings. Again, this shall all make sense in time. In short, just as your subconscious lets you slide into situations you would avoid if you were awake, mine is helping me process things that are painful when I am conscious." He winked. "I tend to brood and obsess."

"Ah."

"Alas, our time grows short. Do not fear, Michelle. Reality can be every bit as fantastic as a dream."

With that, he faded away, and I was left alone in the garden.

Before I had time to be sad, the sparkles rushed over. Most of them slowly flowed around me, forming a warm, glowing, moving blanket, but a few of them broke away from the group to rub against my cheek, hair, and arm.

I rubbed extra moisture away from my eyes. I wasn't crying yet, but I was close. A small sparkle rested against my moist fingers and zapped me.

"Ouch, why did you do that?"

The glowing spheres surged around me. One darted in and shocked my arm.

I took a step back. "What was that for?"

Two more shocked me, and I stumbled back again. When the next one dove in, I blocked it with a small shield spell. When the two energies collided, light flared. Blinking, I tried to clear the spot from my vision.

When I could see again, I looked over my shoulder and froze. I was eye to bark with a branch. The tree's lights were in a half circle in front of me, blocking my escape. Since the only open path was behind me, I ducked and sat down with my back against the apricot tree.

As soon as I sat down, the tree shuddered. The trunk flexed and the ground shifted. Behind me, the tree had formed a chair back, and under me, the roots moved themselves to make my seat more comfortable. The glitters resumed their previous behavior, coming in to rub my arm or hair without zapping me.

"You could've said something," I muttered.

The tree cuddled against me, a solid presence at my back and a comforting glow around me. Relaxing, I tried to push Elron's strange behavior out of my mind. It wasn't fair to judge him on something he didn't realize he was doing. However, fair didn't factor into my frustration or curiosity. Some part of him was frolicking with me in the garden and making cryptic discoveries. If the two parts of him ever unified long enough to sort things out, I'd have a stern word with him. Until then, I would let it be.

I pushed the worries and questions out of my head, emptying my mind and falling into a light trance. It felt good to be at peace, removed from the worry and frustration that had been dogging me for so long. The peaceful feeling lasted until my body started protesting.

My butt went numb, and I sat up to stretch. When I leaned back, the tree wasn't there. I opened my eyes to see the garden fading away, replaced by a campfire in a small clearing in the woods. This wasn't the first time I'd seen this clearing, but if the last meeting was any indication, I'd get cryptic answers and more questions before we were done here.

The fire and clearing were solidly in existence, at least in this dream of mine, when Sylvia walked out of the woods.

I stood up and dusted off my pants. "I'd greet you, but if memory serves, you don't like to use names."

"They have power."

"That they do. Are you going to tell me how you keep invading my dreams?" This was the second time, and it was irritating enough that Elron and I shared dreams; I didn't want to be having late-night meetings with his not-dead wife.

"Not now. I am short on time, and for the time being, it is a useful way to communicate." She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back while looking me up and down. "You've been hurting him, and the death of the werewolf was a substantial blow."

I nodded. She didn't have to name him; I knew she was talking about Gremory.

"That death bought you time. Use it wisely." Sylvia turned and marched back into the woods before the last word fell from her lips.

I woke up, tucked in bed at Mom's house, with predawn light coming in through the window.

*******

Breakfast was a quiet affair. We finished our food and were lingering at the table when Mom set down her glass and looked at me. "Michelle, can we go over some of the details of the wedding?"

"Oh, sure." I couldn't hide the hesitation in my voice.

"We'll have the ceremony and reception at Greg's house. It will be a reasonably small gathering," Mom said. "If you could come up here the night before, we can drive over together for the rehearsal. Dress is Sunday best."

I must have looked scared because Dad reached over and patted my hand. "It's going to be fine. We're going to have a lovely ceremony no matter what. You'll have a good time, and we'll still be here for you."

"What time should I be here?" I didn't know what to say to the rest of the plans, but I did need to know my scheduled arrival time.

"Could you be here around four?" Mom asked.

"Sure." Maybe with other witches around, I could finally find out what clan Dad was from. The thought perked me up.

"Michelle," Dad said, "will you be staying here today?"

I shook my head. "No, I've wallowed long enough. There's a pile of disenchanting waiting for me, and the world doesn't stop spinning because I had a bad day." I stood up, then started stacking dishes.

"You can come back anytime," Mom said.

Leaning over, I wrapped my arms around her. "I know, Mom. Thank you."

"Go pack your things. We can clean up."

I did as I was told. By the time I made it back downstairs, the kitchen was clean and they were ready to leave for work. I got hugs from both of them, Mom's with a worried smile and Dad's with an extra squeeze.

"I'll hunt around for relevant books. Be careful," Dad said.

"Thank you, and I will."

"Please be careful, and come back if being at the lodge is too hard."

"Yes, Mom. I'll call you." I rushed out the door before the situation could drag out.

Sometimes it was hard to tell if this family thing was going to work out. Dad and I spent most of our time pretending to have a relationship we didn't have, and Mom looked sad when the two of us failed to be convincing. Then Dad stood up for me, or backed Mom, and I could see it—family. Those moments of harmony gave me hope. Maybe we weren't pretending as much as we thought; maybe that's what family was like. There was a smile on my lips as I turned onto the main road. I could get used to this type of family.

My pleasant reflections were interrupted by my phone. I crossed my fingers as I answered, hoping it wouldn't be a dire emergency. "Oaks Consulting. This is Michelle."

"Michelle, it's Wells."

"Hi, Detective. What can I do for you?" I had a feeling he was after the book. After all, that's what I'd promised him.

"You've had a few days. When am I going to get a look at that book?"

"How does today sound?" There wasn't any reason to procrastinate. I had a copy of the book with me, and I was in Ellijay. Putting it off would just cost me time and gas.

"Today would be good. When will you be here?"

"Can we meet somewhere? Maybe Coffee Time?" It felt wrong to talk about the book at his desk in a crowded room with other cops and random citizens within earshot. I wanted him to decide what the rest of the force knew, not have them overhear bits and pieces while they were going about their day.

"Sure, but I expect a good explanation. Twenty minutes sound about right?"

"I'll see you then." I hung up before he could ask any more questions.

I strolled into Coffee Time ten minutes later with the book tucked in my purse. After getting a cup of tea, I snagged a table in the back. It was one of two tables in the back that weren't popular due to their proximity to the coffee grinder and blenders.

Sipping my tea, I reflected on the upcoming conversation. This meeting wouldn't be fun or easy. It was going to be hard and depressing. If I was lucky, he would believe me and we could work on common goals. Typically, luck wasn't my thing, which left the less fun but more realistic path. He wouldn't believe me, and it would deteriorate from there.

Detective Wells walked in, scanning the room. He gave a sharp nod in my direction before going to the counter. A few minutes later, he sat down across from me with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"You owe me an explanation, Michelle."

I met his gaze. "I know. Thank you for being patient with me and for meeting me here."

He shrugged. "It was worth the trip for the coffee. The stuff that passes for coffee at work is shameful."

Flashing the smallest of smiles, I continued. "I've tried to think of the best way to do this, and a direct approach seems best." I gently placed the book on the table and slid it to him. Sitting back in my chair, I forced myself to relax and look normal. After some thought, I'd decided to present the book as if it were the original. It had taken some work, but to my senses the books were identical. Elron had the original, as was his right, and another, less precise copy was in my apartment.

Wells picked it up and flipped through the pages. It must've passed his inspection because he didn't ask to see the original. Tension in my shoulder relaxed, and I hoped he attributed any changes in my posture to the subject matter rather than legitimacy of the book.

"What's so special about this book?" he asked.

"Do you want to know what I think of the book or would you prefer to read it before you hear my thoughts?" I knew what he'd say, but I was looking for any chance to escape. This was a conversation I'd gladly procrastinate.

"I'd like to hear your thoughts." He crossed his arms and leaned on the table.

"Remember when I told you about the woman at Adder's house dropping the book?"

Wells nodded.

"I picked it up because I suspected it could be important. With the way things happened that night, I didn't want to give you the book in case it was spelled. I examined it, and it appears to be a completely harmless collation of thoughts put on paper."

He studied me. "If it's harmless, why were you concerned about eavesdropping?"

"The writing is the problem. It's the diary of a woman who was taken by a demon to be used as its host. At the end of the book, the woman also confesses to being Elron's wife, who was believed to be dead for the past two centuries."

Detective Wells's expression didn't change during my explanation. I would've felt better if his face showed some emotion.

"Does Elron know about these claims?"

I met his gaze. "Yes, I told him. I'm sorry if that affects your investigation, but he's my friend. I couldn't keep something like this from him. He needed to hear it from me."

"This book… it claims that there is a demon behind the trouble we've been having?"

I nodded.

Detective Wells leaned forward. "Michelle, does that make sense to you? Demons have been extinct for thousands of years."

He still had on his best blank face, and it was good. I couldn't tell if he believed me or if he was getting ready to take me in for a psychiatric evaluation.

"I'm not sure what to think," I answered. "It seems very convenient for me to find a book explaining a demon's role in the current troubles, along with a connection to my new neighbor. If word of a demon got out, there would be panic. People can't cope with an ancient evil returned to terrorize the modern world. Demons are somewhere between a fable and the ultimate bad thing in children's stories."

I shut my mouth before I could get myself into hot water. While I was perfectly willing to believe a demon was causing trouble, Detective Wells needed to decide on his own. Nothing I could say would persuade him as much as reading that book. Maybe Sylvia would even grace him with a late-night visit. That was an illuminating experience he shouldn't miss.

Wells studied me while I drank my tea and tried to look comfortable. My best guess was that I looked more like a rabbit ready to flee than a professional having a serious discussion.

"Did you have them spike my drink?" he asked with a smile.

I snorted. "Please. If I'd done that, we would be having a fun conversation, not this depressing talk of evil, doom, and gloom."

He tipped his head in agreement. "Thank you for giving me the book. I'll get in touch after I read it."

Detective Wells shook my hand and was out the door before I had a chance to say anything else. Perhaps it was for the best. He needed to come to his own conclusions, and I didn't want to sway his views. I sat there and finished my tea as Elron's brokenhearted sobs played through my head.

Maybe Landa would have good news for me when I got home. Maybe he would be better. Or I could walk by his door and hear the haunting sobs again. If that was the case, I would do my part to turn earplugs into a fall accessory.

Chapter 2: Michelle

The tea was a pleasant memory, and I was feeling brave enough to handle whatever was waiting for me at home when I left Coffee Time. My phone rang as I was slipping the key into the ignition.

"Oaks Consulting," I answered.

"Michelle, it's Queen. I need you up here. I have a—" There was a loud crash and the sound of glass breaking. "Situation," she yelled into the phone.

Three more crashes followed the first. Heavy panting and indecipherable yelling filled the space within the clatter. I had the car turned around and was pulling onto the street before Queen had a chance to finish her explanation.

"Queen, what's going on? Where do I need to go?" I was headed for the highway, which was enough of a direction for the moment since Page Queen worked in Jasper, one town to the south of me.

"Liquor store on Old Philadelphia Road. Their clurichaun has gone crazy. I think I can keep him in the store, but I don't know how to stop him."

"I'll be there twenty minutes." I was almost to the highway, and the liquor store was on the near side of town.

The swearing in the background got louder. "I've got to go. Hurry." She hung up the phone before I could say another word.

After I pulled onto the highway and got up to speed, I set my cruise control. I wouldn't do her any good if I got pulled over for speeding.

Page was a solid hedge-witch, working in Pickens County. She was the reason they were one of my best accounts. When I'd opened my business, she'd bullied the department into putting me on retainer, swearing that they wouldn't regret it when they needed magical backup. Her boss had been reluctant until I'd spelled a few public buildings to shrink giants and other large races down to a normal size after a local giant's size-reduction charm had worn off while he was in the courthouse.

I never did see the hole he made in the second floor, but I heard that the judge—who was understandably startled to have a head and shoulders pop through his floor—tried to hold him in contempt of court. In the end, he was charged with destruction of public property. While the locals were glad to have me around, I was equally happy to have a client that paid promptly and rarely needed my assistance.

It wasn't surprising that Queen was having trouble subduing a clurichaun. They were a lesser-known, grumpier version of a leprechaun. While leprechauns were known for practical jokes, granting wishes, and house magic, clurichaun were drunken, ill-mannered guardians of spirits. Liquor stores liked to have them in residence because they would prevent employees and patrons alike from stealing. On the other hand, if a clurichaun had a bad day, he could ruin the entire inventory. Along with a foul disposition, they had magic. Like other fey, it was hard to know exactly what they could do, but they were plenty powerful enough to avoid a hedge-witch.

Hedge-practitioners were much more limited in ability than witches. Witch was a species. I'd been born a witch, and I would die a witch, power notwithstanding. Hedge-practitioners were generally humans who could manipulate energy as a witch could, but on a much smaller and more limited scale. Not only was the human body unable to withstand large energy transfers, but humans couldn't sense magic efficiently.

Highway was a bit of a misnomer for this part of the road, which was why it was commonly referred to as the four-lane. The road was divided with a nice grassy median between opposing lanes, but there were traffic lights and turn lanes. While I was waiting for the light to change, I stuffed a few healing charms in my pockets. I took a left at the light for Old Philadelphia and immediately took a right into the liquor store's parking lot. I didn't bother to find a parking space—with the seven police cars, two fire engines, and the ambulance parked haphazardly around the building, my car was the least problematic.

The liquor store was a big metal building that bore a striking resemblance to a warehouse. I had my wand in hand and was getting out of my car when I saw one of the walls bulge out, leaving a vaguely human-shaped impression in the metal. I slammed the car door shut and sprinted for the building. Humans don't fare well in impacts with metal.

"Wait! Stop—you can't go in there." A policeman charged over.

I slowed down but didn't stop moving toward the door. "I'm Michelle Oaks, the witch. Queen called me. I need to get in there."

He reached out to grab my arm, and I took a quick step back.

Stepping closer to me, he said, "I'm sorry, I can't let you go in there. We have a situation."

"I know," I growled. "Page Queen called me to help. I'm here to make sure no one else gets thrown into a wall. Let me do my job."

"Fine, but I can't guarantee your safety." He didn't sound happy but filled me in anyway. "We got the employees and customers out. A couple of officers and Queen are the only ones left inside."

Without replying, I resumed my sprint for the door. If the customers had been evacuated, odds were a police officer had been the one to hit the wall. Wand at the ready, I pulled open the glass door and walked into the liquor store.

It was dark inside. Remembering the crashing I'd heard on the phone, I crouched down while my eyes adjusted. The quiet bothered me. Without the hum of the air conditioner, the buzz of the florescent lights, or the sounds of people shopping, the store had taken on an eerie quality.

Stretching out my power, I found the entire building had a faint hum of energy. I wouldn't be locating the clurichaun that way. The door behind me had a stronger hum than the rest of the building. Closer examination revealed a spell that repelled fey. It was a nifty bit of work, using minimal power, that encouraged the target to feel satisfied staying in the building. Queen was a savvy woman.

Once my eyes acclimated, I could see broken glass and a turned-over display, which explained the alcohol burning my nose. In the distance, I heard a bottle shatter and shuffling feet, but off to my left I could hear a soft moan.

I headed for the person moaning because the sound was coming from the same direction as the dent in the wall. Making my way around the counter was a noisy event. When I wasn't crunching glass, my shoes were making squeaky sounds.

As I got closer, the moans stopped, but I could still hear heavy breathing. Stepping around a table, I found a crumpled shape. Keeping up a running commentary, I inched closer. "My name is Michelle, and I'm here to help. In a moment I'm going to touch you. Please don't be startled."

Resting my fingers against the person's hairy wrist, I felt a steady pulse. That was good news.

"I'm okay," the shape muttered. With a groan, the person moved around, and I was looking into the whiskery face of a werebear.

"You don't sound okay, and there's a big dent in the wall." I pulled a healing charm out of my pocket. It might not heal everything, but it would help with the aches and pains.

He gave a purely male snort. "I'll be fine, especially if I can get out of here soon. I broke a few things, and I'd prefer they were properly aligned before they start to heal."

For someone with broken bones, he was remarkably coherent. I activated the healing charm and laid it on his chest. "This will help with the pain."

It would also make him heal faster, but I had a plan for that. His body relaxed as the charm took effect. Standing up, I cast a small levitation spell on him. It wasn't enough to make him weightless, but it did reduce what I had to move physically. A shield spell followed because I didn't want him to get any more damage from the glass.

"Arms, collarbone, ribs, back? What's broken?" I asked. One way or another, I was getting him out of here, but it would be nice to do it without causing more damage.

"Couple of ribs, one leg, split open the back of my head, and maybe a cracked wrist." There was a steadiness in his voice that made me think he knew what I was about to do.

"I can get you out of here, but it's going to hurt." Maybe I should have said it was going to cause indescribable agony, but I had a feeling he knew what I meant.

"Do it." He held out his arms. "The right one hurts, but it's mostly in the hand."

I tucked my wand into my wrist sheath and then got a good grip about halfway down his forearm, inches away from his wrist. The first step was hard. He was a big man, made bigger by being partially shifted. Breath hissed out between his clenched teeth.

I kept moving and asked, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," he gasped.

After that I didn't ask any questions. Each of those steps seemed to take minutes rather than seconds. We couldn't have been more than twenty feet from the door, but it was a difficult journey. Dragging a person wasn't easy, and his condition only made it more difficult.

Halfway to the door, I glanced down and saw tears running down his face. After that, I didn't look back, but I could hear his soft whimpers. It was safer for him outside, where he could get the help he needed, or that's what I kept telling myself.

A commotion started in the back of the store. Ignoring the distant yelling and shattering glass, I pushed the door open with my back and pulled the werebear into the parking lot.

I gently set him on the ground and released the spells. Kneeling next to him, I could hear his shallow breathing. In the bright sun, he looked worse. There was a jagged cut across the left side of his face, his right wrist and hand were badly swollen, and his leg looked wrong in ways I didn't want to think about.

The policeman who'd tried to stop me from going in was standing a few feet from the door with his jaw agape.

"Help him," I ordered, pointing at his broken coworker. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yelled, "Officer down. We need an EMT over here!"

There was a flurry of movement around the ambulance. Satisfied that I'd done my part, I turned to go back in. A hand grabbed my ankle, and I looked down to see the werebear try to smile.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Our eyes connected, and message delivered, he released my ankle and closed his eyes.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my wand, and walked back into the liquor store. The smell wasn't any better the second time. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if I was drunk by the end of this. My eyes adjusted faster this time, but I was tired. Between the spells and the physical effort of moving the werebear, I wasn't in the best shape to go after a clurichaun on a bender.

The building was quiet again. Given what I'd heard last time, I didn't trust the silence. On a hunch, I headed for the back of the building. It was where I'd heard the last crashes, and if I could find another person, they could give me some tips.

Broken bottles, spilled liquor, and deformed shelves littered the floor in every direction. The few displays that were standing were missing individual shelves or had spilled much of their goods on the floor. Hopefully the owner had a good insurance policy with a rampaging-fey rider.

"I don't know who's moving around, but you need to get down and stop making noise." The barely audible whisper came from the other side of the still-upright shelf I was standing beside.

I froze. "Can you tell me what's going on? I'm the witch, and I can't help without information." That wasn't entirely true, but information was always beneficial in these situations.

A familiar and smiling face swung around the corner. "Am I glad to see you." Page Queen's blond ponytail was askew, and chunks of hair were falling down around her face, but her blue eyes were still sparkling.

"Likewise." I carefully stepped around the edge of the shelf and squatted down next to her.

"I don't know what to do with it," she whispered. "It's thrown off any spell I've tried. So far the only thing that's worked is the spell on the door, but that could be coincidence. In the beginning, it was hurling bottles and committing general property damage." She pointed in the general direction of the sound of crashing bottles. "He tends to drink the liquor and throw the empty bottles. All that alcohol is keeping him drunk as a skunk, and he's gotten nasty. He cornered one of the officers by tossing bottles, magic, and tables at him. When Briggs tried to distract the clurichaun, he ended up getting tossed into the wall. Quite a feat for someone four feet tall."

A four-foot-tall man who was strong enough to throw a werebear had magic and a bad attitude, and it made me wish for a simple case like a possessed coffeemaker. I couldn't bounce back from the damage a shifter could withstand. Witches had skills, but we weren't much sturdier than the average human.

"I got Briggs out of here."

Queen closed her eyes and exhaled. "Thank you."

"I think he'll be okay. Do you have a plan?" I knew the answer. I was her plan.

"I'm looking at her."

"Do you have a backup plan?"

She shook her head.

"If I fail, get some elves or vampires in here."

"The vampires won't be up for hours, and the only elf on duty today is dealing with a domestic between a giant and a dragon."

Given the option, I would've picked the clurichaun. "All right, any tips? Is he using any magic to conceal his location?"

"I don't think so. He seems to retreat and drink. We've found him a few times, but we can't get close enough to cuff him. He's attracted to noise and movement."

One of these days I was going to have to find a better tool for my police friends. Magical handcuffs designed to neutralize magic and strong enough to hold a dragon were all good and well, but you had to cuff the beastie first.

"Where are the rest of the officers?"

Queen shrugged and motioned in the direction of the back corner. "The other two guys are over there."

I grabbed a bottle of tequila off the shelf and tossed it toward the center of the building. The sound of the bottle shattering broke the unnatural silence. A second later, a few more crashes followed.

"I found you now," a rough voice cackled. The clurichaun swooped down from the ceiling, a half-empty bottle of vodka in one hand and Kahlúa in the other. He took a swig of vodka, followed immediately by a mouthful of Kahlúa.

"You didn't say he could fly," I hissed at Queen.

"Oops."

The clurichaun wasn't going to be winning any beauty contests. Not only was he short—four feet at best—but he was rather squat. Not brawny, but of a sturdy build with shorter-than-average legs and overly long arms. His face, which could best be described as having been sculpted by a young child, didn't improve upon his unusual proportions. His nose was bulbous and lumpy, his ears stuck out from his head, and his short hair shot out from his head in uneven spikes.

His clothes were another matter entirely. The stained and ripped jeans were held up by a twine belt, and the faded plaid shirt was half-untucked, missing buttons, and one arm was holding on to the body of the shirt by a thread.

"Oh, you were a smart one. Ran off when you knocked 'em over, did ya? Roy will find ya, yes I will." He started scouring the area in uneven circles.

I'd gotten a look at him, but I still didn't have a plan. The hope that an idea would come to me after I found him was fading, and I was running out of time. I needed to take action before he discovered the other officers, who had suffered enough.

"When I move, find a new hiding place," I whispered to Queen.

She nodded, but the expression on her face didn't give me any good feelings.

Moving quietly to avoid attracting his attention, I walked around the shelf and into a relatively clear part of the floor. Soft scraping and squishing sounds reassured me that Queen was getting out of the way.

"Hey… hey, you," I yelled, waving my arms in the air.

The clurichaun did an about-face and skidded to a stop, a big grin on his face. "Well, who's this pretty thing?" He took a swig from each bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of a hand. "Matters not at all."

He dove at me, lobbing the vodka bottle in my direction. I ducked, and it somersaulted over my head, dousing my hair and shoulders with its contents. Thanking my lucky stars that the alcohol wasn't in my eyes, I stood up, pointed my wand at him, and yelled, "Fehu!"

For a moment he slowed, but light rippled around him, and he tossed off the spell like I'd sprayed him with water.

"Narzel fart," I swore. He should have stopped or frozen in a block of ice, not continued charging at me like a short, angry ram.

"Hey, leprechaun, over here," a male voice shouted.

Roy halfheartedly chunked the Kahlúa at me, but it went wide as he turned around to hunt for the man slinging insults.

I couldn't see where that man was, but Roy seemed to have an idea because he was scooping up liquor bottles on the way to a stack of boxes. Muttering under my breath about foolish males, I raced after the clurichaun. In this case, racing was more of a barely controlled dash around bottles, puddles, and shelves.

Roy pulled back his arm, a bottle of rum at the ready, and I knew I couldn't get there in time. Raising my wand, I said, "Sowil." The containment bubble popped up around Roy, and the bottle bounced harmlessly off the inside to land at the bottom of the sphere.

"Why you… you," Roy sputtered.

"Yes, me." I continued picking my way over broken bottles, keeping an eye on him. After the way he threw off the last spell, I didn't trust that this one would hold him.

A man stepped out from behind the boxes. "Is it safe?"

"I think so." From the claws tipping his fingers, I guessed he was a shifter, but I needed more than pointy nails to identify his species.

"You must be the witch."

"Michelle Oaks, at your service."

Roy had opened the rum and was busy draining the bottle when he wasn't hurling insults.

"O'Neil, werebadger," he said, introducing himself. "I'd shake your hand, but—"

I looked at O'Neil, who had his arms loosely crossed over his chest and his shoulders hunched. "Now isn't the best time. After we deal with this guy, we can make proper introductions."

I couldn't hear Roy; he wasn't swearing or drinking. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I swung around.

"Look out," O'Neil yelled, leaping forward.

I looked just in time to see Roy's squished face smirking at me as he plucked the wand out of my hand and raced for the ceiling. O'Neil hit me and we went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

Pain burst from every part of my back and left side, and shards of glass dug through my clothes to pierce my body. Somehow—it must've been luck, because it certainly wasn't due to any skill on my part—I didn't crack my head, and O'Neil didn't cut me with his claws.

"Oh," O'Neil moaned. "I've had better ideas." He rolled off me, gaining a few more cuts in the process.

"Considering the clurichaun's track record, I won't complain." I sat up, digging the glass farther into my rump, and looked around. "He's gone."

"I'm not surprised. He's been doing stuff like this since we got here. It's why the human officers are outside."

I'd wondered about that, but it hadn't been the most important question. After brushing most of the glass off my arms, I stood up and tried to get the rest of it off my lower body. My hand brushed over a few tender spots where glass was embedded in my skin. It was going to be great fun when the remaining fragments were plucked out.

"What does he usually do at this point?" I asked. So far I was useless. My empty containment bubble was still floating overhead. I dismissed it with a thought. Maybe I could keep Roy occupied until we could get another fey out here. If I was clever, I might get my wand back.

"Drinks and comes back to torment whoever catches his fancy." O'Neil sounded discouraged, and I couldn't blame him. "What are you going to do now?"

I hadn't survived a sorceress, trolls, and a werewolf to be bested by the bad apple of the leprechaun tree. "Put that Narzel-blessed clurichaun in handcuffs."

O'Neil looked at me and blinked.

It sounded crazy to me too. "Can I borrow your cuffs?" I slid them in my back pocket after he dropped them in my hand. "Stay back. I don't want you to get hurt."

Marching to the middle of the room, I yelled, "I want my wand back, you misshapen dwarf."

Standing there, I focused as much on sound as I did on sight. Given his penchant for trickery, odds were he'd show up behind me.

Just to prove how good I am at predicting the enemy, he descended from the ceiling to hover in front of me. His face was beet red, but that could've been the alcohol as much as the anger.

"What did you call me?"

"You heard me. You're a disgrace to the hardworking leprechauns of the world, and you look like a distorted dwarf."

Roy's face turned an even darker color, and he vibrated in the air. I held my breath, not sure what he would do. Freezing, he looked at me and flashed a twisted smile. There was just enough time for me to panic and worry that I'd overplayed my hand.

He grabbed my wand with both hands and brought it down across his knee, snapping it like a twig. Laughing, he tossed the pieces aside.

"What are you going to do now? Poor witch doesn't have her wand." Roy batted his eyes at me.

I bared my teeth and snarled, "Witches don't need wands."

His smile faded.

Throwing out my right hand, I hit him with raw power, throwing him back and driving him to the floor. He struggled, shimmered, and tried to throw off my power. I forced my power to flow around him, preventing his movement. Roy thrashed and shivered and then stopped moving. Walking closer, I took grim pleasure at the disbelief in his eyes.

With a twirl of my finger, he was rolled onto his stomach. Leaning over, I fished the cuffs out of my pocket and snapped them on his wrists. It was extremely satisfying to see Roy in handcuffs.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly cut off the flow of power and dispersed the energy that was swirling around Roy, sending it into the earth. A headache sprang to life in my temples. I knew better than to throw around raw power. As effective as it was, I always felt empty and tired afterward. The wand, which was now evidence, helped focus power, allowing the caster to use less energy for a spell. Runes gave the magic shape and form, reducing the mental strain of holding all the parts of a spell in your brain as you willed it into being.

Queen walked over, eyes wide. "Michelle, what did you do?"

I rubbed my head, not wanting to answer her question. "My job."

"So I see." She paused and surveyed the disaster of a room and my bloody clothes. "I'm sorry about your wand."

"Easily replaced." I shrugged. "Besides, it's evidence now." For a moment she looked like she was going to question me, but she let it go. I breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, the wand was easy to replace, but it had been a gift from Dad when he was teaching me magic.

O'Neil came over, followed by a man I hadn't met yet. From the fur and whiskers, I gathered he turned into something feline. O'Neil opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly snapped it closed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Queen shaking her head. If I had more energy, I would've thanked her.

The feline officer clucked his tongue, reached down, and hauled Roy up by the back of his neck.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Roy demanded.

The officer switched his grip to both arms and carried the swearing clurichaun out of the building.

After a moment I followed them out. Later today I could curl up and sleep, but I needed to be functional now, and that required a restorative brew.

"Michelle, where are you going?" Queen asked.

"To get an energy drink from my car. I'll be back in a minute." As soon as I got to the car, I found one of my more potent brews and chugged it. I grabbed a bottle of water and tried to wash the bitter taste out of my mouth as I went back over to the group of cops huddled around the front of the liquor store.

"There you are," O'Neil said. He had bandages covering part of his face and both arms. "The paramedics want to look at you."

I didn't even argue when the paramedic started looking at my visible cuts. The kindly middle-aged man, whose name I couldn't remember, pulled glass from a few of the slices on my arms. After rubbing an ointment over them, he covered me with bandages.

"Do you want to go to the hospital?"

"What?" My eyes lifted from the pavement, which I'd been studying to distract myself from the tweezers in my arm, to his face.

"Normally, we would take you to the hospital for X-rays and to tend to the rest of those cuts. I was only able to remove a couple of obvious pieces of glass since I'm not set up to do a more in-depth exam. Do you want to go or not?" He said it like he knew what my answer would be and didn't approve.

"I'd rather go home. If I can't tend them, a friend will."

He sighed. "I thought as much. If you find more glass or if a cut bothers you, go to the doctor. You don't want to wait for it to fester."

"Festering is bad. I'll clean them properly." I smiled and thanked him for bandaging my arms before working my way back into the group of police. In theory, there was safety in numbers, or at least enough injured people that it would take the paramedics a while to circle back to me.

"Michelle, how are you?" Queen asked.

"A little cut up, but I'll be good as new in a few days," I said, leaving off the part about being completely exhausted and ready to go home.

She nodded. "Briggs is going to be fine. He's got a long list of injuries, but werebears are tough."

I glanced at the dent in the wall and shuddered. If I'd been thrown into a metal wall with enough force to leave a body impression, I'd be in the morgue.

Queen continued talking. "Michelle and I will examine the building for magical trouble, and then it's evidence collection and paperwork."

I nodded absentmindedly. Maybe if I asked nicely, Dad would give me a new wand. However, explaining how the last one died had its own issues. Considering they'd told me to keep a low profile, admitting to flaunting my power was going to be a less than fun conversation. Granted, it was a conversation that would happen at some point. The first time Dad saw my new wand, he'd want to know what happened to the old one.

"Are you ready?" Queen looked at me expectantly.

Snapping out of my reflections, I realized the rest of the group had dispersed. "Sure."

She smiled, and we walked into the building. If anything, the smell of alcohol had gotten stronger in the interim. The air burned my nose, and I switched to breathing through my mouth, hoping to reduce the uncomfortable sensation. The thick air stung even more that way, so I shut my mouth to reduce further exposure.

Queen stopped a few feet into the building and out of what had been the main path. I picked my way around the bottles to stand next to her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. After widening my stance and closing my eyes, I sent out tendrils of power. They raced through the building, touching and tasting as they searched for magic. Finding nothing, the power flowed back into me. Opening my eyes, I swayed. Next to me, Queen opened her eyes and rolled her shoulders.

"I didn't find anything," I said.

"Me either."

"Do we need to do anything else in here?"

"Nope."

Instead of replying, I marched out of the liquor store and took deep, gulping breaths of fresh air. Behind me, Queen giggled. I twisted around to glare at her.

"I'm sorry. It's just, well, do you think I should recommend gas masks or hazmat gear?" She laughed.

"Gas masks would be a prudent suggestion." I pointed at her. "Your eyes are as red as mine. That place is toxic."

"It is; it really is. I hadn't noticed how bad it was until I left."

I rolled my eyes. "That's for the best. Truly. I've made three trips in there, and it smells worse every time."

She wrinkled her nose. "Nasty. You look beat. Go home and rest."

"Yes, ma'am."

I was in my car and on my way home before she could change her mind. A couple of miles down the road, I called Amber.

"Hey, it's Michelle."

"Am I late? I didn't think we were meeting for another hour."

"No," I reassured her. "You're not late. Could we move lunch to my place? I had a case come up, and I'm not restaurant ready."

"You're place is fine as long as we're eating Landa's cooking." Amber laughed.

"We won't be eating my cooking, that's for sure. Also, would you mind helping me bandage a few cuts? I can't reach all of them." A few might be an understatement, but this didn't seem like the time to detail my wounds.

"What happened?" Amber demanded.

I sighed. "There was some broken glass, and I got banged up a little. I'm fine. I'll tell you all about it over lunch and bandages."

"I want the entire story."

"And you shall have it," I promised.

"I'm going to hold you to that," she said before hanging up.

The rest of the drive was spent thanking my past self for putting seat covers in my car and spelling them to repel dirt. Even with blood seeping from my cuts, the covers wouldn't need more than a quick spin through the washing machine. The rest of me wasn't going to recover as easily. Even with a healing salve, the cuts would take days to heal, and I'd get the joy of feeling itchy scabs all over my body. Energy wise, I should be back to normal in the morning, but I was going to be rather useless the rest of the day.

At the lodge, I hauled the bare essentials back to my apartment before running down to the kitchen and taking a few plates of leftovers from the snacking shelf in Landa's fridge. Back in my apartment, I carefully stripped off my bloodstained clothes and tossed them in the trash. With the number of holes they'd acquired, it wasn't worth trying to salvage them. My shower was long and painful, but I managed to scrub the cuts clean.

I'd just dried off and slipped into shorts and a T-shirt when I heard a knock at the door.

"Be right there," I yelled on my way over. Opening the door, I found Amber on the other side, a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of zebra-striped bandages in the other. Laughing, I held the door open. "Do come in."

"Geez, Michelle. What happened to you?" Amber set the bottle of wine on the table.

I closed the door and turned to look at her. She looked good, at least on the outside, but I didn't trust her appearance. Amber had been held captive by a crazy werewolf, leaving wounds that were invisible to the eye. "Well, I had a run-in with a clurichaun." A cut above my elbow oozed blood. "Can I tell you the story while we bandage me?"

Amber looked me up and down. "That might be best."

I fetched the healing cream and some larger bandages from the bathroom, then sank into a chair. Amber knelt in front of me, settled my foot in her lap, and started smearing the green goop on the cuts.

"You said something about a clurichaun?"

Scooping up a glob of the healing cream, I started on my left arm. "The Pickens police called me because the clurichaun at the liquor store was making trouble. I captured him, but while he was throwing a tantrum, he managed to break most the bottles in the place. A few falls, and I look like this."

"You're lucky you weren't hurt more. Why did the clurichaun trash the store?"

That was a good question, one I'd been too tired to ask when I had the chance. "No idea. By the time he was in cuffs, I was ready to go home. Next time I talk to Queen, I'll ask."

"Why am I bandaging you when you could use a healing charm?" Amber stuck a bandage over a cut and started rubbing the cream into the next wound.

I tried not to scoot around in the chair. She didn't need to rub the healing cream into the cut, just smear some over it. "Because I'm not a prepared witch. I'm out of minor healing charms, and this doesn't rate a powerful one. In the morning, when I feel better, I'll make a charm for myself. Until then"—I pointed at the healing cream—"I'll make do with this stuff. It's spelled to promote healing."

Typically, I was prepared and over prepared, but the past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emergencies, and I'd gone through some supplies faster than I could replenish my stock. The minor charms were one of those items. If I'd been useful rather than wallowing at Mom's house, it would be a different story.

By the time we were done, I was a patchwork of skin and zebra bandages. Looking at my arms and legs, I vowed to avoid mirrors for a while. "It's a good thing it's fall. With pants and long sleeves, no one will ask what I did to myself."

"True, but when you're scratching because you have itchy scabs everywhere, they'll ask questions."

"Hey, don't blow holes in my plan." I grinned. "A girl has to do something to preserve her dignity. The guys would laugh at me if they knew a clurichaun did this to me."

"And the glass, don't forget the glass." Amber giggled.

"I won't be forgetting that." I grumbled. "Shall we eat?"

"Sure, what do you have?" Amber dumped the bandage wrappings in the trash.

"Landa's leftovers." I pulled the plates out of the refrigerator, and we heated and divided the food.

Before we started on lunch, Amber uncorked the wine and poured each of us a glass. "I figured you'd need this," she said, handing me a glass.

"Thank you." I took the glass from her.

We sat down to eat, and for a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of our chewing.

"With all the excitement, I forgot to ask: how are you?" I set down my fork while Amber looked at me with big, round eyes but didn't say anything. "Please talk to me. I want to help."

Amber sighed. "I don't know if you can help."

"I'll try; just tell me what you need." I knew she was still having a rough time after her ordeal, and I was desperate to help.

"That's the thing. I don't know that I need anything. At least not anything you can give me."

I patted her shoulder. It was the best I could do since I didn't have any comforting words.

"I don't like being alone, but being in a group is worse because they know what happened to me and they watch me. I can see the pity or anger in their eyes, and when they don't think I'm looking, I see fear. After all, before I was abducted, they could go about their lives, secure in the knowledge that nothing bad would happen to them. Now they see it differently." She ran out of steam and sat there looking at her plate.

"It's hard for people to see bad things happen to their friends. It tears away the illusion that they're safe and immune to the bad in the world." There wasn't anything helpful I could say about the looks of pity.

"But why are they mad at me?" Amber asked.

"Because it's easier to be mad at you than to confront their own fears. Adder is out of their reach. They can't blame him, so they focus on you."

"Hardly seems fair." Amber took a sip of wine.

Leaning back in my chair, I studied her, from the faint tremor in her hand to the wide eyes. "Have you talked to anyone? A professional?" When Amber shook her head, I asked, "Why not?"

She pushed the pasta around on her plate. "I don't know. It seems wrong. Nothing bad happened to me. I've read stories about other victims, and as kidnappings go, this was nothing. What right do I have to be upset when there are people out there who have suffered so much more?"

I looked her in the eye. "Oh, sweetie, you've got it all wrong. Those other victims, their struggles, they don't invalidate your feelings. You can be afraid, hurt, have nightmares, and feel bad. That they suffered more does not change your experience."

"But—"

"There are no buts," I said firmly. "You can feel what you feel. There is nothing wrong with that. If the police didn't recommend a counselor, I can."

Amber sighed. "They gave me a few names."

"And?"

"And I'll make an appointment." She glared at me. "Why are good friends always bullies?"

"Because we care." I smiled softly. "I care, and I'm here to help."

"I know, and you do help. This helped." Amber rubbed her eyes. "Can you help one more time and turn this back into a fun afternoon?"

"Sure. I think there are a few pieces of key lime pie in the fridge. Do you want one?" It wasn't chocolate or cookie dough, but this wasn't a drown-your-sorrows moment. We needed to celebrate making it through a rough patch.

Chapter 3: Michelle

I woke from my nap feeling somewhat better and reasonably sure that Amber was doing as well as could be expected. Considering what she'd been through, that was progress. It took a few minutes to work up the courage, but I finally picked up the phone and called my father. He would be more reasonable about the entire clurichaun thing. Mom wouldn't take it well.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dad. It's Michelle." I winced at how formal I sounded.

"Are you okay? I didn't expect to hear from you so soon." He didn't have to say it—I knew he meant that he hadn't expected me to call him.

"I'm fine." Which was mostly true. Neither the scrapes nor the lack of energy were cause for concern. "So, I was kinda hoping you would make me a wand."

He took so long to reply that I began to think the line had gone dead.

"Why do you need a wand?" he asked softly.

"The last wand you gave me is broken and considered evidence." I kept talking, afraid he'd jump to the wrong conclusion if I stopped. "After I left Mom's house this morning, the police from Pickens called because they had a situation with a clurichaun. While I was there, my wand was broken, and it's evidence now."

He sighed. "Do I want to know how your wand came to be broken or how you dealt with the clurichaun?"

"Probably not."

"I'll make you a new wand." Dad chucked. "I don't remember your being this much of a risk taker when you were younger."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Clurichaun are tough and very magical," Dad continued.

"And rude," I added.

"They aren't known for their pleasant disposition."

"I really am okay. I've got a few scrapes, and I need to rebuild my energy. The clurichaun is behind bars, and the only cop that was injured will be fully recovered in a week or two."

"I'll warn Nancy before she hears about it on the news, and I'll make a wand for you."

"Thank you, Dad."

"That's what dads are for. Be careful, daughter."

There was a smile on my face when I hung up the phone. It turns out I had a pretty awesome dad. Thank goodness he had the foresight to realize the excitement at the liquor store would make the news. It hadn't occurred to me, and now I could only hope my name wasn't mentioned. Mom was going to be worried enough when she heard about Briggs getting tossed into a wall. If the news talked about me, she would have fit.

My tummy grumbled, reminding me that I didn't have enough food to make a respectable dinner. After changing into pants and a long-sleeve shirt, I headed downstairs.

I walked into the dining room and found Landa setting a dish of guacamole on the sidebar.

"Child." She smiled up at me. "How have you been?"

"I'm all right. Life's been hard lately."

Landa pulled me into a hug. "Life is like that. I'm here if you want to talk."

"I know. Thank you." Leaning over, I gave her another hug. "Have you talked to Elron lately?"

"He's having a rough time." She turned away and shifted the dishes around. "I need to get the chips. The rest of the guest will be down soon."

The kitchen door swung shut behind her before I could ask any more questions. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. It would all work out. Elron would get through this. He had to. Even if I wasn't a part of his future, I would never forgive myself if that book destroyed him.

Taking another breath, I forced my shoulders to relax. Landa was a firm believer in privacy, and she would protect Elron. That didn't necessarily mean he was escaping from the world as he'd done when he believed Sylvia to dead.

Landa returned with a heaping basket of corn chips.

"How many people are you expecting for tonight's dinner?"

"Six or so." She set the basket on the table. "But the chips are always popular."

If I'd been guessing food proportions, I would've guessed there were enough chips for ten or twelve people. Then again, her chips tended to disappear quickly.

"Get your food; the rest of the guests will be down soon." Landa pushed a plate into my hands and headed back to the kitchen.

I filled my plate with chips and piled on toppings to make nachos. There I was, sitting at the table and taking a bite out of a nacho when a gargoyle, werewolf, weretiger, and brownie walked in.

Mander smiled at me. "'Tis good to see ya."

Grabbing my water, I took a swig to help push the half-chewed chip down my throat. "It's good to see you too. Hello, Baden." The weretiger nodded back at me, and I continued, "Liam, this is an unexpected pleasure."

"I'm staying here until things settle down. It's good to see you lass." Liam patted my shoulder.

I glanced at the gargoyle, who was still in the door and looking at all of us. The gargoyle was an elegant cross of a human and lion, giving him the haunches of a cat but the torso and arms of human. His fingers were that of a human with curved talons rather than nails, and his feet more closely resembled those of a cat. Wings sprouted from his shoulders, and horns curled out of his head. His face matched the rest of him, with pointed ears that protruded from his head and swiveled to pick up sounds, heavily ridged brows, and a shortened muzzle of a lion complete with nose. To top off the package, he had heavily textured grayish skin and was wearing cutoff jeans and a loose V-neck T-shirt.

He shook himself, much like a dog, and walked over to me. "Excuse me, miss, but would you be Michelle Oaks?"

Turning in my chair, I got a good look at him. At nearly seven feet tall, he towered over me. His wings were tucked against his back, his horns spiraled as they curved over his head, and his hands were taloned.

"Yes, I'm Michelle."

He dipped his head. "I am Julius, cousin of Horst. He invited me to this area because of the recent unrest."

I smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Julius." Horst was the leader of the flock of gargoyles I'd talked into moving to Ellijay. Since gargoyles fought and repelled evil, it was a good match. "Will you be staying here or moving to Ellijay?"

"For the time being, I shall remain here. Some of my relatives will be residing in Ellijay."

"Oh good. I know Horst was worried about the youngsters."

"Julius," Landa said, interrupting us, "why don't you get some food and continue this conversation over dinner?"

"My apologies." Julius quickly turned to the sidebar and filled his plate.

"Michelle, how have you been? I haven't seen you since…" Liam frowned. "Since the night I assumed leadership of the pack."

With Liam's question, I abandoned eating for the time being. After conversation slowed down or shifted away from me, I could return to my food. "I've been all right. For the most part things have settled down, though I don't expect that to last. How's the pack?"

Liam winced. "It will take time to settle everyone. They are grateful to be free of Adder, but they don't know me, and they've seen too much instability lately."

"I'm sorry." Really, I didn't know what else to say.

"Don't be. If I'd waited any longer, there wouldn't be a pack."

I looked at him and tilted my head, hoping he got the message. This was a conversation we needed to continue when we were alone.

Julius sat down next to Landa, who winked at me and started talking to him. Grateful for the reprieve, I started on my food. I made it through half my nachos before Julius resumed our conversation.

"Miss Oaks, Horst wanted you to know that in light of recent developments, the children have been temporarily relocated."

I looked up and we locked eyes.

"Instead, gargoyles such as myself will be staying in the area."

Horst knew about the demon. There was no other explanation. "I'm glad the children are safe." What could I say? I hadn't known about the demon when I invited the flock.

"As are we. After assessing the situation, Horst felt that it was a better area for more experienced gargoyles."

"Yes, you did mention that relatives of yours would be in town."

"Not just relatives of mine, but any gargoyles who are seasoned. It has been many years since we have encountered such an adversary." Julius was grinning.

"You're enjoying this?"

"Of course. It is an honor to aid one who has injured our enemy. Horst thought you could use some help at home." He gestured with his hand, indicating the lodge.

"Yes, help would be good." Considering the threats the demon had already made, I had a feeling we wouldn't be exchanging Christmas cards.

The rest of dinner was much less eventful. Easy, casual conversation flowed around the table as we demolished the oversized basket of chips. After we finished the main course, Landa brought out a tray of churros, and I ate until my stomach protested.

Liam caught up with me as I was leaving the dining room. "We need to talk."

"We can talk in my apartment."

He followed, and didn't speak a word until my front door closed behind him.

"Most of the pack is sick," Liam said.

"What? They're sick? What would sicken that many people?" As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I had an idea—a horrible, terrifying idea.

"What was Adder into? Why would my pack feel like they've had the worst flu of their lives?" Liam loomed over me.

I stepped closer to him and tipped my head back so I could look him in the eye. "I don't have the answers you want."

"You have some of the answers or one of the most decorated gargoyles alive wouldn't be camped out in the garden. What is going on?"

"I don't have all the answers," I protested as he growled. "Stop that. I'll tell you what I know, but growling at me won't get you any more information."

He took a deep breath and stepped back. "Sorry."

"Oh, please. I know you'd kill for your pack. They may not know what type of a man you are, but I do." I sat down at the dining room table and motioned for him to do the same. Once he was settled, I continued, "I have more suspicions than facts right now. I'll answer your questions, but be careful repeating my words."

"I know when to keep my mouth shut," Liam grumbled.

"I'm aware, but this is different."

He nodded, not like he understood, but that I should continue talking.

"Adder had an agreement with an elven woman. She was at the house that night. There is some indication that she is not elven anymore. Whatever she is now feeds on death, destruction, and pain. Adder might have needed her, but she had to be getting something in return. Perhaps energy from the pack?"

Liam paled and his eyes unfocused. He came back to himself with a shudder. "That's why they're so sick. They've been drained."

What Sylvia said in my dream came back to me. Killing Adder had hurt the demon. If what Liam said was true, I'd cut the demon off from a source that would be difficult to replace. On the other hand, what the demon could accomplish with the power he'd already gained was chilling.

"Will they recover?" I whispered.

"Given time, yes. Now that I know what happened, I can help them." He rubbed his chin. "Why would someone need that much energy?"

"I don't know. I'm not even sure how much energy could be pulled from a shifter; I've never tried it." And really, I didn't want to be pulling energy from people. It could damage or kill the person, and there was no good reason to risk that type of harm.

"From what I've seen alphas do, it's more than enough energy for someone to do something very bad."

I didn't like the way his eyes unfocused, as if he was seeing something horrible unfold. "Liam," I called.

He came back to the present and refocused on me.

"I can't help your pack."

"No, but I can." He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Does it get worse than what you've told me?"

"Maybe."

"Why is Julius here?"

"He said he was here because Horst sent him. You seem to know more about Julius than I do." I nearly growled the last part. Regardless of what Liam thought, I didn't have all the answers. In fact, I had a pile of questions taller than Ty, my pet T. rex, and a pile of answers that wouldn't fill my trashcan.

"Julius is old. I don't know how old, but old enough to have battled evils that most people have forgotten."

My ears perked up.

"Rumor has it that he and the other old ones have been feeling out of place. They haven't been facing the types of evil they used to and feel somewhat useless."

That was fascinating and potentially useful, especially if Julius knew there was a demon on the loose. "I didn't even know gargoyles could live that long."

"Most of them don't, and none of them talk about why some of them live so long." Liam sighed. "That's the extent of my gargoyle knowledge."

"Thank you."

Liam stood up. "Lass, thank you for being patient with an overworked man."

I shrugged. "You've helped me out. I wouldn't do less for you."

"Not everyone sees it that way. Have a good evening." He stood in the open door for a moment. "Keep your eyes open. I suspect you're hip deep in this mess and sinking." He closed the door, leaving me alone with his all-too-accurate words running through my head.

*******

The morning was sunny, and a shower eased the lingering sore spots from yesterday's adventure. After eating a slightly stale microwaved waffle, I went downstairs to pick up my mail. I pulled a stack of letters out of my box and started sorting them on my way back to my apartment. There was a bill, an advertisement, a smooth cloth-like envelope, another bill, another expensive envelope without a return address, yet another bill, and three more spiffy envelopes with my name in curly letters.

My breakfast formed a solid block in my stomach, and I hurried back to my apartment and locked the door behind me. The five mystery letters taunted me from the table as I made a cup of tea. Sitting down, I forced my hands to let go of the comforting warmth of the mug.

I probed the letters for spells but came up empty. Picking a random envelope, my fingers ripped it open before I could second-guess myself. A soft, heavy piece of paper flopped onto the table, and my hands trembled as I unfolded it.

Ms. Oaks,

We of the Haedus would like to extend an invitation to join our clan. To further that end, we would like to arrange a meeting between you and our elders. This is a seldom-extended invitation, which you have earned through your efforts to aid the community and the skill you have demonstrated.

This would be a mutually beneficial relationship, giving you the support and security of a clan. In addition, this invitation has been extended with the understanding that you are currently free of any clan ties. If that is not the case, forgive our intrusion. Should you wish to pursue a relationship with us, please contact us at your earliest convenience.

Blessed Be,

Latasha Farrer

Haedus Minister

Taking a deep breath, I tried to slow my pulse. Out, in, hold, and try to calm down. It didn't work. I ripped into the rest of the letters.

Miss Michelle Oaks,

On behalf of the Aap, it brings me great pleasure to offer you a place in our clan. Based on your power and skill, we feel that you would find the Aap to be a welcoming environment that would assist the development of your power and help you reach your full potential.

To ensure that we are the right home for you, I'd like to meet with you posthaste. Please contact me to set up a meeting.

Blessings,

Kim Scotcher

Aap Minister

The next three letters read much the same way, with offers to join the Tructa, Maus, and Zarafa. Some of the offers were more demands than requests, but the basic idea was the same: come join us; we are your future.

I sat there with sheets of paper strewn across the table and the letters dropped haphazardly around my tea. Mom was going to freak; there was no way she would take this calmly. Frankly, her hope that I would pass under the radar had been in vain. Considering the cases I'd been on lately, there hadn't been a chance that I would go unnoticed. If the trolls and sorceress hadn't brought me to the attention of the clans, the live television coverage of the raging dinosaur demolishing a town would have.

My door rattled as someone knocked. I flinched and yelled, "Who is it?"

"It's Landa—you need to come outside. Now!"

I shot out of my chair and yanked open the door. "What happened?"

She glared at me and huffed. "Nothing yet, but you need to see this." Landa turned and started down the hallway without mentioning what I needed to see.

I followed her, too confused to ask any questions.

Before she opened the front door, she looked over her shoulder. "Be careful."

Nodding, I tried to get a feel for what was outside. There were little bits of magic, but nothing alarming. I mourned my dead wand, in part because if there was trouble, I would be at a disadvantage. Unfortunately, nothing was going to bring it back, and I hadn't gotten around to finding a temporary replacement. I stepped onto the porch, swung the door shut behind me, and didn't see anything.

There was movement at the edge of my vision, and I twisted around in time to see a blue sphere move away from a pink sphere. The glittering sphere glowed, leaving a trail of pale blue light behind it as it glided to the bottom of the stairs. It paused for a moment before flattening into an oval and stretching. At first the center was the same shimmering blue as the rest of the oval, but once it was about two feet tall, the center flickered and an image of a gray-haired woman with thin lips and dark eyes appeared, leaving a thin blue line around the edge.

"Greetings," the woman in the image said. "I am Gretchen Tomlin, minister of the Wapiti. We would like to welcome you to our clan. You should feel honored to receive such an invitation and will soon receive a letter detailing the process for transitioning from a clanless state to being a full member. Welcome, Michelle." The oval shrank down to a single blue sparkle that twisted and wiggled before flattening out into a baby-blue envelope that drifted down and landed on the bottom step.

"What under the moon…" Before I could finish, the pink sphere glided to the bottom of the stairs and reformed into a ribbon.

The tip of the ribbon rippled, and a soft, gentle voice spoke. "Ms. Oaks, it is a pleasure to introduce myself to you. I am Ingrid Burch, minister of the Kamelos. I would be honored to meet with you and discuss the possibility of extending an invitation for you to join my clan. Rest assured we will make no further attempt to contact you without invitation, and I would be pleasantly surprised if you chose to meet with me. Best wishes in your future endeavors." The ribbon fizzled into nothing.

I stumbled the few steps to a rocking chair and plunked down before I toppled over. Dropping my head in my hands, I sat there vacillating between tears and manic laughter.

This wasn't going to end. These offers would keep pouring in no matter how often I said I wanted to be left alone or how firmly I expressed a desire to be independent. Even joining a clan might not make the invitations end. Some of the more persistent clans would keep sending letters, or voice ribbons, or talking pictures.

At least the last one, Ingrid, had been polite. Half the offers had read more like an order, and Gretchen sounded like she was certain I would be at her doorstep as fast as I could drive there.

"I'm sorry, Michelle." Landa patted my shoulder. "You might as well take this." She pushed the letter from Gretchen into my hands.

"What am I going to do?"

"What you've always done. You will stay strong and true to yourself. There is nothing else for you to do." Landa wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against her thin chest.

"But… but, I've gotten five letters and two glowing whatchamacallits today. What if those glowing things don't just come to my home but follow me? I don't need to have those things announcing their intentions in front of the police. Or, worse, my parents! What do I do?" I knew I was whining, but I couldn't seem to help it.

"Be you."

I pulled myself out of her arms so I could glare at her. "What does that mean?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Don't take that tone with me."

My shoulders dropped and I nodded, looking at her feet.

She slipped her hand under my chin and raised my head until I was looking into her brown eyes. In the rocking chair, I was shorter than her, and it was odd to look up to meet her gaze. "You need to be you. The Michelle I know is strong enough to face down a hundred Gretchens and smart enough to make herself unattractive to these clans. There is a strong, determined woman in there"—she moved her hand to my chest—"who solves impossible problems."

"That woman is tired."

"Is she, now?"

"Yes, I'm tired. It's been one problem after another, and I don't see an end to it." That wasn't true—I could see one end, a very final end where the demon won. I wanted to put the problems behind me while I was aboveground.

"Can you fix these issues?" Landa asked.

"I don't know."

"You didn't know if you could help the mermaid, but you did. You had no idea if you'd be able to fix Ty, and you did that too." Landa sighed. "Michelle, I've yet to see a challenge you can't defeat. Are you sure the current ones are so different?"

I sat there, looking into her eyes, unable to answer. The clans and demon were different than what I'd dealt with in the past. They were bigger, scarier, more powerful adversaries. But demons had been killed in the past, and clans could be tamed, even if I didn't feel like the kind of person who could vanquish a demon or stand down a clan.

Landa kissed my forehead. "Think about it. Ty could use some company, and the altar soothes you."

She went back inside, and I started walking around the outside of the building. I found Ty, a twelve-foot-tall pink-and-purple T. rex, sunning himself in the side garden. He was the result of a magical experiment that had gone wrong, and after I stopped him from squishing a town, he adopted me. I sat down and scratched his chin and talked to him. He was a great listener, letting me pour out my troubles. When he got restless, we played fetch until he flopped back on the ground. I gave him a hug and continued to the altar.

The trees, the feel of the smooth stone, and the air were welcoming. For some time, I let my eyes drift over the stone slab that held a candle and wooden bowl, past that to the ferns, and to the white pine standing guard. Next to him were two stately maples. The ground was littered with their leaves, each larger than both of my hands. On the lodge side of the garden were a few dogwoods, naked this late in the year.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. For a few minutes, I stopped trying to think and simply existed. The air danced across my cheeks, and the trees gently rustled in the breeze. Beneath me, the earth was a steady, comforting presence. At some point, my breathing slowed and I felt the stress and worry drift away. When I came back to myself, I was relaxed. The worry and fear were still present, but I had enough distance from the emotions that I could think and plan.

I hurried back inside and pulled out my copy of the diary. There had to be clues in here. If Sylvia was on our side, she wouldn't have risked exposure for a simple diary. I just needed to find the answer.

Chapter 4: Elron

After my eyes were dry, my throat raw, and my mind numb, I tended to my body's needs: first to the washroom and then the kitchen where I drained two glasses of water. Although I could hear my stomach gurgling, I did not feel hungry. Nonetheless, I choked down a handful of nuts and seeds with a third glass of water.

The darkness outside the windows was comforting, matching the feelings inside me. Going from wall to wall, I turned off every light. I had betrayed Sylvia with Michelle. When the bond between us had been sundered and her pain was replaced by emptiness, I thought I felt Sylvia's death. When elves take a mate, we're warned of the void we would feel upon their death. What I felt fit with the elder's account of that particular loss.

The older elves also explained that the bond could be broken if both parties were willing to separate, but the process was neither quick nor comfortable. In all my years, I'd only heard of one couple willing to sever the bond.

Regardless, I had failed to keep Sylvia safe. How could I have believed she was dead? Why hadn't I helped her? Could she still be alive? Did she hate me? Why hadn't I looked for her? I was worthless, stupid, a blight upon this earth. It should have taken me. I was of no value, a waste of space who never did anything productive.

Time blurred as I lost myself in unfriendly thoughts and unhappy emotions. One morning, I saw the diary sitting on the floor. Picking it up, I turned it over in my hands, dragging my finger down the spine. The leather was cracked, worn thin in some areas. I opened the book to the first page. The paper was rough and the ink faded. I turned on a lamp next to me, forcing my eyes to adjust.

Now that the shock had worn off, I could face the pages without ruining them. One page turned into ten, each of them digging farther into my heart. After finishing the book, it rested in my hands, but I couldn't stop. I had more questions. Returning to the beginning, I read it again. And again.

When I finished the book for the third time, I made myself the largest meal I'd had since the book had come into my life. After my meal, I realized I was filthy. A long shower later, I could tell that my rooms smelled. I opened the curtains, blinds, and windows before cleaning the apartment. It was nearly as unkempt as I had been before my shower.

I could hear the forest again. It was calling me, begging me to come visit. The hallway was empty, and I slipped past Michelle's door and outside without seeing anyone. The woods were happy to see me. Between the sun, wind, and earth, I felt better than I had since Michelle handed me the diary.

After thanking the woods, I headed back to the lodge. As I got closer, the grief and guilt returned. By the time I was inside, I knew I couldn't go in my apartment. If I was alone, the feelings would consume me.

As I neared my apartment, my pace slowed and my feet turned in a different direction. I wanted to resist, but the Call had helped me before, and I trusted it to help me now. When I was in front of Michelle's door, I knocked before I could doubt my reception.

The door opened, and she was just as beautiful as ever.

I had to clear my throat twice before I could form the words. "I need you. I need your strength."

As I stepped forward I tripped, and something inside me clicked into place. Perhaps the Call wasn't about saving Sylvia. Perhaps it was saving me.

Chapter 5: Michelle

A pounding at the door interrupted my reading.

"What now?" I muttered as I walked over. I wasn't expecting company, and Landa didn't knock like that.

I pulled open the door and found Elron. This wasn't the Elron I was used to. He was pale, with hollow cheeks and puffy eyes.

"I need you," he whispered. "I need your strength."

He took a step, stumbled, and pitched forward. I kept him from hitting the ground, not because of my catching ability but because he fell on me and I managed to keep both of us on our feet.

"What do you mean? What happened to you?" The second question was pointless—I had a copy of what happened to him sitting in my workroom.

I shifted him around until I could get my arm around his midsection. After toeing the door closed, I hauled him across the room. We weaved back and forth, but I kept him upright until we got to the couch. Sitting him down was the easy part since he'd been trying to melt into the ground for the length of the apartment. I sat down next to him, and he lurched off the arm of the couch and toppled into me. As soon as he got his head in my lap, he stopped struggling, sighed, and relaxed.

Pushing his hair off his face, I could see the dark shadows around his swollen eyes. The news had not been kind to him.

"You didn't answer me," I said.

"What was the question?" he mumbled.

"What did you mean when you said you needed me and my strength?" Those words had to be important; otherwise he'd have given me a different greeting.

"I'm not… I can't." He stopped and twisted around so he could look up at me. Swallowing, he resumed talking. "I need you. You are strong and brave. I'm brittle." A tear dripped out of the corner of his eye. "Right now I need to be strong, but I can't do that on my own."

I shook my head. "I don't know how I can help you with that."

"Around you, I am better than I am on my own. Other people let me wallow and ignore life. You challenge me to be more."

Closing my eyes, I tried to figure out what to say. I'd wanted him to experience life after spending so many years buried under pain, but I hadn't tried to change him. None of my actions had been focused on making him into someone else.

"You cannot see it?"

"No, I can't. I don't know how to be what you need." My voice broke.

"Be you."

Looking at him, I smiled softly. "I can be me."

He closed his eyes, and I trailed my fingers up and down his arm. We sat like that as I tried to understand why he'd come to me. It had been days since I'd seen him, and Landa had told me he wasn't doing well. As pale as he was, I would've guessed he'd sequestered himself inside the lodge if not for the fact that his boots were dirt stained and there were grass smudges on the knees of his pants.

As the minutes slipped away, his color improved and the harsh lines on his face relaxed. At some point I drifted off, comforted by his presence and relieved that this part of my life wasn't broken beyond repair. He was still my friend.

"You shouldn't think so hard."

I flinched, his voice pulling me out of the relaxing half-asleep thing I'd been doing. "What?"

Elron lifted his hand and rested a finger between my eyebrows. "You get a wrinkle right here."

"Oh."

He trailed his fingers down the side of my face before dropping his hand on his chest. "Alas, I am going to give you more reasons to have that wrinkle. I think there is more to the diary, more you need to know."

I tilted my head, curious now.

Elron sat up and turned to face me. "The note to me was more than absolution; 'twas insurance. Sylvia knew few elves other than myself would understand the importance of what she penned. Many of us were told stories of demons as children, but even when I was a child they were more fantasy than reality. After Sylvia and I married, she told me her mother insisted that demons had at one point been real. My opinion then was that while I was sure there was some truth to the stories, expecting them to be firmly based in reality was ridiculous." He swallowed, a faraway expression on his face. "Sylvia shook her head and said that, according to her mother, the stories were more truth than fiction. At the time, I just agreed as I didn't wish to argue. We never spoke of it again."

I nodded and tried to relax even as my stomach knotted.

"The story I was told as a child went something like this. Back when the earth was young and less civilized, many evil entities roamed the land. They were known as demons. As time went on, it became apparent that the demons were only capable of brutalizing and subjugating other races. Entire villages were destroyed by these creatures.

"Although not all the races coexisted in harmony, representatives from all corners of the world met. During this meeting, they decided the world needed to be purged of the demons. To further that end, a group was formed. The Hunters were comprised of the smartest, strongest, and fiercest from each race. Few survived being a Hunter, though many people still chose to serve after seeing demon's atrocities. Eventually, the Hunters were unable to find any more demons and they disbanded. They were the only ones who knew the secrets of killing demons, and their practices were never committed to paper." Elron looked me in the eye. "The information is believed to have died with the last Hunter."

I cleared my throat. "How long ago were the Hunters disbanded?"

"I don't know. My parents were old when I was born, thousands of years old, and they didn't believe demons were real."

I sat there and wallowed. Someone had known how to kill demons, but if all the Hunters were dead and they hadn't left any records behind, their secrets were gone with them. "But demons can be killed?"

"So the story says."

"Does the story have any hints as to how to go about it?"

"I told it to you as it was told to me. I have no additional information on how to capture, contain, or kill a demon."

I patted his hand. "It still helps. It's more than I knew an hour ago."

"That may be, but it is hardly as helpful as directions for killing them," Elron growled.

There was nothing I could say to that, so I switched topics. "Did you find any clues or tips in the diary?"

He shook his head. "I looked. If there are any further mysteries on its pages, they have not yet revealed themselves to me. You are more than welcome to examine the book."

"I will. It's worth looking for more information." I didn't mention having a copy. The spell I'd used to make my copy didn't make an exact duplicate, but rather replicated the text on the pages of a different book. If there were hidden clues, the original was the place to look.

The conversation hadn't helped Elron. The corners of his mouth were pinched and his brow wrinkled. He tossed an arm over his eyes and sighed. From the careful way he held himself to the tension in his body, he looked alone and pained.

"Elron," I said, and he lifted up his arm and looked at me with watery eyes. "Come here."

He scooted around until he was sitting next to me and froze. His eyes darted between his previous spot and me. I patted my leg, and he slowly lay down, head on my thigh. A few strands of hair draped over his cheek. I set my fingers against his temple and brushed the strands back, tucking them behind his ear.

"Thank you," Elron said, his body softening as he relaxed.

"It's what friends do."

Minutes ticked by as he rested, and I pondered the new information. There had to be more to it than a story. As nice as it was to have some confirmation that demons were real, it wasn't the most useful information. There wasn't a single word in the tale about how the Hunters had killed demons.

The reference to their attrition rate was hardly remarkable. I'd seen how easily this demon killed, and there was little doubt in my mind that it would become more violent if confronted. Given the little I knew about Gremory, it was surprising that there'd been so few deaths. A soft voice in the back of my mind suggested there could be many more bodies hidden in the woods.

"Elron?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to the Hunters who retired?"

"I do not know." He frowned.

"What would you do in their situation?" Please let him have the same idea.

"Hmmm. I would try to disappear. Whether I moved to a village or lived in seclusion, I would want to be unremarkable. Perhaps I would start a family or pick up a trade. I would not demonstrate any special skill that could identify me."

Picking up where he left off, I said, "And I'd want to prepare my children. Not to follow in my footsteps, but to protect themselves. Even if the Hunters didn't record their secrets as a group, the individuals would want to protect the ones they loved. Some of their knowledge had to be passed along, maybe even written down."

"It will be next to impossible to find that information, Michelle."

"I know." As I thought, my hand traced circles on his arm. Some races were exceptionally long-lived, and any group hunting something as dangerous as demons would prefer the anonymity of myth.

"Do you think there's any chance some of the Hunters are still alive?" I asked.

Elron shook his head. "Everyone dies, Michelle. For the truth of the stories to be all but forgotten in my parent's time, the Hunters could not have been active for many thousands of years."

I sighed. It had been a long shot. "I'm out of ideas until I look through the diary again."

"I will get it." Elron was off the couch and out the door before I could say anything.

While he was gone, I went into my workroom and slipped the copy in a drawer. Moving over to the cabinet where I'd stored the materials for the hedge-practitioner class I would be teaching, I opened the door and pulled out the basket of wands. Running my hands over them, I felt the wood: oak, ash, cherry, and pine. A smooth cherry wand slipped into my palm, my fingers curled around it, and I could feel a slight warmth to the wood. After returning the rest of the wands to the cabinet, I went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. If Elron and I were going to be examining the book, I needed tea.

Elron slipped back into the room just as the kettle whistled and said, "Can I have a cup?"

"Sure. What would you like?"

"A green or herbal."

"How about a hibiscus-and-peach green tea?"

"Yes, thank you." Elron set the book on the table, walked into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter, watching me measure out the tea and pour the water.

I handed him a mug and watched as he slowly walked to the table and settled into a chair. His hands shook ever so slightly as he set down the tea. I followed him, snagging my new wand off the counter. Elron's gaze was fixed on me as I covered the short distance between the counter and table. He didn't look away until I was sitting next to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked. When he'd said he needed me, my first thought had been that he remembered our dream. That didn't seem to be the case, because if that memory had resurfaced, he would've said something. Whatever had happened over the past few days, that dream wasn't the primary event.

"I am better than I have been of late." Elron took a sip of tea.

I didn't bother to reply. He knew that wasn't an answer. We sat there, tea in hand, book and wand sitting on the table. It didn't take long for me to stop watching the book and start focusing on Elron.

"This is the second time a single moment has changed everything. What I knew as truth was a lie. Hundreds of years and every action was predicated on an untruth. My thoughts, beliefs, were all misguided." Elron kept his eyes fixed on the book.

"This time I find naught of importance had changed. I am the same man with the same scars and pains. For all of that, I am more myself than I have ever been. Beyond the lies were truths that were badly in need of sun."

He took a deep breath and looked up at me. "I loved Sylvia, but she was not the love of my life. Part of me was relieved when she died. The rest of me was lost to grief and guilt. None of what has befallen her was good, and if I could, I would go back in time and prevent her from leaving that day. However, if those events had not occurred, I would be a different man, and I like the man I am today. I have gained things I would not trade for anything."

"That's good, because you can't go back in time."

"Make no mistake, Michelle, the past still haunts me. I have merely won enough distance to try."

His gaze dropped to my hands, which had a white-knuckled grip on the mug. As usual, Elron couldn't be simple. In front of me was a man who had fought his demons and won but was fragile enough to need shelter and strength. This man was healed enough to live but yet delicate enough to break under a stiff wind.

I licked my lips. "Try what?"

"Try to live."

Chapter 6: Michelle

At hour four, the book had yet to divulge a secret. My hand was beginning to cramp from holding the wand, and the legal pad was teeming with notes, not a one of which held useful information.

Elron had collapsed on the sofa two hours ago and was snoring intermittently. Any other day, I'd tease him for turning into a barbarian, but if he'd done half the crying I suspected… Well, elves could get plugged noses too.

Dropping the wand, I rubbed my hand and wrist. If this book had any secrets, it wasn't willing to share them with me.

"Perhaps it is time for a break."

I yelped and leapt out of the chair, knocking it over in the process.

Elron caught it before it could hit the ground and set it back on four feet as a slight blush crept over his cheeks. "My apologies. I did not intend to startle you."

Deep breath in, hold, and let it out, I told myself. "I didn't hear you move." One of these days my heart would return to a normal rhythm.

"I am sorry." He shifted from foot to foot.

"It's okay." Elves who startled people should be forced to wear bells.

"Did you find anything?"

"No. That book contains nothing but words for me. All I can say is what I already knew from the last time I read this thing. Gremory has a fondness for trolls, can be killed, possession can be prevented—though how isn't explained—and that she doesn't expect to outlive him." I started rubbing my hand again.

"I read that as well. We can discuss it later."

He hardly acknowledged that I'd said his wife would be dying shortly. It was as if it hadn't really hit him as a possibility.

Elron brushed my fingers away from my hand and began massaging it himself. "You need to take a break, and I know just the thing to take your mind off this."

My eyes narrowed and I finally asked, "What?"

Elron looked me up and down, taking in my sneakers, jeans, and polo. I glared at him, but he didn't notice. "Those clothes shall do. Come with me?"

"Why? Where?" Earlier he had been all for poring over the book until we found the clues he was sure were there, and now he was telling me to stop.

His silver hair rippled as he shook his head. "You are tired. Any secrets inside that text will be there when we return."

"Return from what?"

"What happened to the girl who enjoyed being surprised by the greenhouse?" Elron tugged on my ponytail. "That girl had a sense of adventure."

"That girl is taking a much-needed day off. In her place you have Miss Suspicious."

"Well, Miss Suspicious, what would it take to get you to come with me?" The twinkle was back in his eyes.

"Answers."

"Ah, yes. You did ask deep questions. I do believe I have answered why, which leaves what and where. We will not leave the lodge. Normally, I would take you outside, but I do not have the energy to deal with Ty. As for what, why not leave that a surprise." Elron held out his hand. "Now, will you come with me?"

I reluctantly set my hand in his. No matter how strange he'd been acting, Elron would never hurt me. "Yes."

His smile was genuine, but it didn't chase the shadows from his eyes. "This way."

Elron tugged me out the door, past his apartment, and came to a halt in front of a narrow door. It was a door I'd never opened. Not only was Landa firm about residents and guests leaving things alone, but the door looked exactly like several that guarded supplies and linen.

After flicking on a light switch, he pulled open the door, revealing a landing and stairs that traveled down. Elron motioned for me to go first, and I stepped into the stairwell. He pulled the door shut behind us, and we started down the stairs. Stairs leading into basements were often creepy, but the walls were the same wood as the rest of the lodge, the wall sconces provided plenty of light and, thanks to the carpet, our footsteps didn't echo.

We turned a corner and the wall dropped away, leaving a banister and a clear view of a room that was easily three times the size of my apartment. Mirrors lined one long wall while the adjoining short wall had a door, racks of items I couldn't identify at this distance, and a pile of gymnastic mats taller than me.

"Elron, what is this?" I asked as my feet touched the wooden floor. Part of me knew, but another part of me was hoping the fourteen-foot ceilings, mats, and pointy objects on the wall meant something else.

"It's a weapons room." He turned and gestured to the room.

Nope, my eyes hadn't been playing tricks on me. The racks on the far wall held armor, swords, staffs, and other sharp, pointy, and blunt objects designed to inflict maximum damage. "That's good, but why are we here?"

Elron turned back to me, frowning. "You need to be able to defend yourself."

"I'm a witch. Trust me, I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

He shook his head.

I just glared. "Hey, I've captured trolls, a werewolf, sorceress, and a clurichaun. Don't tell me I can't defend myself."

His eyes narrowed. "When did you cross paths with a clurichaun?"

I swallowed. "Um, yesterday."

Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and took a deep breath before returning his gaze to me. "Clurichauns are dangerous."

"That's why the police called me."

"Of course it is. All right, if you are going to continue putting yourself in dangerous situations, you must learn to defend yourself."

"Magic, remember?" I wiggled my fingers and made the air sparkle. Maybe a visual would reinforce the words.

"Yes, magic. If I recall, magic failed to keep the werewolf contained."

"That was a freak event. Who knew there would be a demon, exploding house, and magical backlash?" I grumbled.

"You cannot know what the situation will involve, which is why you must be prepared." He silenced me with a look when I opened my mouth. "A method of physical defense is necessary if you continue this work. Do not again tell me of your magic. I am aware of your gifts, but no single skill works in every situation. There will be creatures that are immune to magic or attack you physically when you are unable to summon a magical defense."

"Fine, let's say you're right. I'll get a gun." I'd used a gun before, and I was more comfortable with that than with any of the things he had stashed in here.

Elron shook his head. "You may, but it will not get you out of these lessons. My fear is not what will happen if your adversary is far away, but what will occur if they are near." He stepped closer to me, leaving only inches between our bodies. "If you are within this proximity, a gun is not ideal. If your opponent is farther away, I trust you are a resourceful witch who has the police there to protect you."

I knew right then that I wasn't getting out of this. He was dead set, and his logic was sound. "What do you think I need in a weapon?"

He stepped back and started across the room, and I trailed along behind him. This wasn't how I'd pictured my afternoon. My plan had been to pore over that book until I found something and then do some paperwork. It should've been a low-key and lazy day.

Up close, I realized I'd underestimated the scope of the weaponry. The storage couldn't really be called a rack as all but six feet of the wall was taken up with armor for every body part, with varying levels of padding and weapons of every shape and size. There were long swords, short swords, claymores, rapiers, sabers, and swords I couldn't identity. Next to the swords was a collection of staffs, glaives, and halberds that flowed into an assortment of smaller things like axes, tomahawks, brass knuckles, batons, maces, and trays of knives.

Elron walked along the wall, touching and picking up different weapons. "You need to be able to hold off a stronger, faster, more skilled opponent. This must be done at close range, where their strength and size will be a disadvantage for you. Ideally, you'll be able to break bones or otherwise disable your attacker with minimum effort on your part."

He was going to hand me a sword, I just knew it, and I didn't want to learn the sword. There were so many different techniques and types of swords, and carrying one around would be a colossal pain. I'd rather pick up the brass knuckles and get in a brawl with a vampire.

With his back to me, he stopped between the swords and staffs. After plucking something off the wall, he turned around, twirling whatever it was in his hands so quickly that it was unidentifiable.

"With that in mind, I think the staff is a good choice for you." He finished whipping it through the air, and one end hit the floor with a thump.

"Staff?" If I'd thought the sword would be annoying to tote around, it had nothing on a staff.

"Yes, you will acquire a passing acquaintance with the polearm." He handed me a staff that was slightly longer than I was tall and took a second one off the wall for himself.

"Elron," I said nervously, "this is a bad idea. I'm a perfectly competent witch, but I'm not known for being overly coordinated in other areas."

He shot me a withering look. "I am aware, Miss Dances-with-Mud."

"Not all of us can be as graceful as elves," I muttered.

"Clearly." He slipped a hand behind my elbow and guided me away from the rack, positioning me so I was facing the plain wood-paneled wall. Stepping in front of me, he held the staff with both hands and said, "This is the basic stance. Look at where my hands are and how I have placed my feet. Now you."

Fumbling, I grabbed the staff and stuck my feet to the floor. Elron broke the pose, set down his staff, and walked over. He gently repositioned my feet and corrected my hip and spine alignment with gentle fingers. Lastly, he adjusted my hands and poked at my shoulders.

"This is how you should stand. Can you feel it?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said. "Now, set down the staff." After I did so, he continued, "Pick it up and find the stance."

I shot him an incredulous look and did as I was told, praying for the patience to make it through the lesson.

*******

Trudging up the stairs, I tried to figure out how spending an hour picking up a stick and swinging it a few times could exhaust me. It shouldn't have been tiring; we hadn't even exchanged blows. Over and over I'd dropped the staff, picked it up, and found my stance. It wasn't until the last twenty minutes that I'd been allowed to do anything else, and even then it was gentle movements under his watchful eyes.

We emerged from the basement, and I took a right to go back to my place and clean up. I was sticky. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Elron turn the other way. "Where are you going?"

He spun around and tried to cover up the dark eyes and sadness with a smile, but it was too late. With that look, I knew he was hiding his pain around me, trying to act normal. Underneath the facade there were emotions that I couldn't begin to understand. How could I relate to the reappearance of a lost love when I'd never loved that deeply?

"I was going to retrieve food for us and bathe at my place. I thought it would be better if we had dinner in your apartment, considering the topics we need to discuss." There was a plea in his voice, as if he needed to do those things.

"Thank you, that sounds good," I said, keeping my voice light.

Elron smiled, this one real, and headed down the hall.

I slowly walked back to my place, my thoughts churning. In the shower with water cascading over my shoulders, I let go. My tears joined the water as I grieved for Elron, for his pain, uncertainty, frustration, regret, and guilt. And in those tears, I cried a few for me and what might have been if only things had been different.

Elron deserved a chance at happiness, at a life where he could put the baggage aside and find joy. He couldn't have that until the demon was dead and things with Sylvia were settled, be that with her alive or dead.

If killing the demon was the only way I could help Elron, I'd do it. Not only would it help him, but neither myself nor my family would be safe until Gremory was no longer a resident of this world. Beyond that, killing the demon would be a public service. He hadn't exactly been the best citizen Gilmer County had seen.

After I got out of the shower and slipped into fresh clothes, I activated a small cosmetics charm. Elron didn't need to see my puffy eyes and red nose. A look in the mirror reassured me that the charm was doing its job, and I headed out of the bedroom. The dining room table was set with a pitcher of iced tea and place settings for both of us. Elron was bent over the kitchen counter, his wet hair pulled back in a braid that left a damp spot on his shirt.

"What's for dinner?" I asked.

Elron turned around with a tray in his hands. "Why don't you sit down and see for yourself?"

"Come on, please tell me?" I begged, wanting to see him smile.

He shook his head and stepped back into the kitchen, setting the tray out of sight. I guess he didn't think the high sides were enough of a deterrent to my prying eyes.

"Is dinner ready?"

"Perhaps you must sit down to find out." This time he smiled faintly.

I smiled back at him. "Oh, all right. I'll follow orders, for now."

Finally I heard him chuckle. That sound felt right, as if he was reclaiming the good parts of him. The sadness, hurt, and loss were still there, lingering under the surface, ready to suck him under given the chance, but a man who would laugh and smile was one who still had fight in him.

Even if Elron ran out of strength, I was there, ready to go to battle for him. Sylvia's return might have shaken him to his core, but the way I saw it, the two of them were more victims of the demon. Gremory didn't get to hurt Elron, children, or werewolves anymore. I was coming for him.

Now, if I could only figure out how to kill a demon, this would be easier.

"This is dinner."

I blinked, coming back to the here and now, bringing the table into focus. Elron set a small salad and an empty plate in front of me before setting a tray of meat, cheese, crackers, and olives between us.

After leaving a salad at his spot, he sat down next to me, cleared his throat, and said, "I hope this is satisfactory."

"It's lovely."

And it was.

Chapter 7: Michelle

I awoke to a roar, a deafening sound that could only have come from Ty. Bolting upright, I hurried to jam my feet into slippers. I was ready to bolt out the door when a hair-raising screech came from my window. Lunging sideways, I flipped on the outside light as another scraping screech emanated from my window. The light flickered on, illuminating a shambling, half-rotted body gripping a large rusty nail in the three fingers that remained on its right hand. Its jaw swung open as if to grin, and it set the nail against the window again.

Screaming, I snatched my wand off the nightstand and scrambled into the living room, plowing headfirst into Elron. My momentum pushed us over, and we landed in a heap. In my struggle to stand, I stepped on Elron a few times, but within seconds I was facing my bedroom, arm up and wand ready.

"What is going on, Michelle?" Elron demanded, rubbing his belly where I'd accidentally planted one foot.

"Thing, outside my window."

"What is this thing?" He twisted his hand and was suddenly gripping a sword. I was going to have to make him explain that trick one of these days.

"Not sure. Some type of an animated corpse."

There was another roar, and the lodge shook.

Elron walked into my room and then quickly walked out. "There is nothing outside your window."

"Well, there was," I snapped.

"That I believe."

The building shook again, and I bit off a nasty word. Before Elron had a chance to question me, I was out the front door and sprinting the few steps to the outside door.

"What are you doing?" Elron's hand closed over the doorknob.

"Going outside to deal with that thing."

"Why? You are safer in here."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I'm not letting it destroy Landa's Lodge. And, frankly, it may scare me out of my slippers, but I've got the best chance of stopping it." I shoved past him and burst outside.

It was quiet. There we no roars from Ty, sounds of battle, or crickets, frogs, birds, and other normal night sounds. The hair on my arms stood up—the night felt wrong. I started down the path that would take me around the corner of the building to my bedroom window.

My wand was in my hand, but I didn't know what I'd do when I saw the corpse. Spells that work on living people seldom worked on the dead. Rounding the corner of the lodge was anticlimactic. There was nothing there. The spill of light over my bedroom window illuminated a flowerbed and some short shrubs. Past that, it was difficult to see, but nothing caught my eye.

Elron stepped beside me, sword still in hand, curved dagger in his off hand. He surveyed the garden and tensed. I was about to ask what he could see when Ty charged out of the tree, roaring. An indistinct shape moved in front of him, managing to avoid teeth and claws.

The two of them raced into the garden, and I could see enough to cast. Flicking my wrist, I said, "Fehu."

The corpse slowed to a stop. Ty skidded to keep from running into it.

I walked over, talking in soothing tones, but my eyes and wand never left the body. "Ty, you were a good boy. It's okay now. You can calm down. You did such a good job."

Ty pranced over to me, sniffed me, and rubbed his cheek against me.

I leaned my head against him. "You were a very good boy. Can you keep watch?"

He bobbled his head and moved back.

Elron and I stood about six feet from the decaying remains and surveyed my attacker. I was grateful dinner had been hours ago, because it was a fight to keep the remaining food where it belonged.

The clothing he'd been in when he died hadn't fared well. The fabric had rips and missing sections. Luckily, his pants were mostly intact. Flesh and sinew hung off him in sections and strips. All but the sturdiest tissue had been stripped off his left arm, and most of his chest cavity was exposed with some of the intestines hanging out. His right arm was in better shape, but two of his fingers were missing.

"Do you know what it is?" I asked.

"No, there are many types of animated corpses. I do not have enough information to classify this one." Elron's eyes never left the body, and both weapons were still in his hands.

I nodded and rolled my shoulders. This wasn't going to be fun. Carefully, oh so carefully, I pushed a strand of magic out to explore the body. I bit the inside of my cheek to distract myself from the feeling of brushing against the corpse. Not only did it give off a spine-tingling feeling of discord, but it tasted foul, for lack of a better term.

Touching the undead with my magic produced a stomach-churning sensation I could've done without. Exhaling, I focused on the spell. It wasn't easy to get a feel for the animating magic because it moved every time my power brushed against it. Exasperated, I encapsulated the spell so I could examine it more closely.

The energy in the corpse shifted, and it shed the spell I'd used to freeze it. My eyes flew open as I frantically pulled my power back into my skin. The undead thing was rushing at me, arm outstretched. There I was, eyes glued to the rotting body, feet solidly stuck to the ground, unable to evade it.

A dark shape whipped through the air, and the corpse's arm parted from its body, coming to rest inches from my feet. The rest of the body lurched to the side and tumbled to the ground.

Before it could get up, Elron was there, sword slashing down to cleave the head from the rest of the form. The body thrashed for a moment before going limp. Elron stood over it, sword and dagger at the ready as if he didn't trust it to stay dead. Frankly, I couldn't blame him.

Something brushed against my toes. I looked down to see the fingers patting my foot. Before it could do anything more sinister, I pulled back my left foot and punted the arm. It turned out that I'd learned something in gym class. The arm flew up in an arch, crashed into a tree, and came to rest in the forest.

Elron looked at me out of the corner of his eye before returning his attention to the dead thing at his feet.

"The arm was still moving," I said.

He gave a tight nod. "I am not sure if this thing is finished."

"Me either." I didn't know what to do. My education hadn't been heavy on how to deal with the not-so-dead.

The arm crawled out of the brush and continued moving until it touched the body, where it assumed the same limp stance as the rest of the corpse.

"I suppose we could burn it," I said.

"Perhaps, but if it moves, we run the risk of setting the forest on fire," Elron countered.

"I think I can hold it. Last time I put the spell on it, and I won't do that this time."

"Very well. This clearing will do as well as any other location."

He was right. We were standing on a patch of gravel, with bushes and decorative trees a few feet away. This was one of the few areas around the lodge without old-growth trees.

I took a deep breath, pictured the size of the shield bubble I wanted to create, and said, "Sowil." The air glittered in a large sphere surrounding the body parts. Elron took a step back but didn't relax.

"Dagaz." I jabbed my wand at the body, which burst into flames. We watched as the fire trailed over the torso and then jumped to the head, arms, and legs, not ready to believe that it was well and truly dead.

"What is going on out here?" Landa demanded.

I spun around to see Landa and Mander flanked by Baden and Paxton. "Umm, well, I'm not entirely sure." I glanced over my shoulder to see if Elron would be any help, but he was still completely focused on the flaming dead guy.

"Well?" she prompted.

Ty snorted, and I didn't try to figure out what that sound meant. "I woke up to that thing scratching on my window. Elron and I came out here to find Ty chasing it, and I tried to freeze it. When that didn't work, Elron beheaded it, and now we're burning it."

"What is this 'it'?"

I couldn't tell who asked that, but it wasn't Landa. She was satisfied with glaring at me.

"An animated corpse."

Landa tapped her foot.

"I don't know anything else. Dead people didn't feature heavily in my education."

"Elron, would you care to add anything?" Landa asked, her tone reminding me of a displeased teacher.

"We have a problem."

I spun back around. At first I didn't see what Elron was talking about. The body was burning nicely and giving off a nasty, if expected, odor. Then I saw it—the smoke. It was gathering at the top of the shield, which was normal enough, but it was moving, and flowing, with hard edges and straight lines.

"What is that?" I asked.

No one answered me.

Elron took a few steps back and all of us stood there, watching the unnatural phenomenon, knowing that no good would come of it. If anyone knew what it was or what to do about it, they didn't say. My guess was that they were as baffled as I was.

As we watched, the magically driven fire finished burning through the flesh and bone, leaving a pile of ash on the ground. The lack of fire didn't affect the black shape churning at the top of the shield.

The last ember went dark, and the smoke rolled through the shield, brushing up against the walls. I held my breath, hoping the shield would contain it.

Beside me, Elron sheathed his dagger and changed his grip on the sword. I tightened my hold on the unfamiliar wand. Behind me I heard feet move and breathing deepen, but I didn't turn around to see what everyone else was doing.

The smoke flattened against the far side of the shield, and I started to believe spell would hold. Then smoke shot forward in a spear shape and passed right through the bubble, streaking toward us. I shot a stun spell at the smoke. Unfortunately, my spell passed right through it and hit some poor tree.

Ty roared and came charging over. His jaws closed on the figure, but it streaked away, leaving him with nothing but air. It circled back to us, and a gust of wind blasted it, pushing it back. The shape twisted before pulling itself into a ball and rolling away from the strongest wind.

Thanking the blustery fall day, I tried to figure out my next move. If my shields wouldn't hold it and my spells passed through it, there wasn't much else I could do. Maybe if I knew what it was I could design a spell, but I was reluctant to try without more information. At this point I was out of tricks and could only hope someone else was up to the challenge.

The thing flew at me, using another gust to propel it forward, and flowed around a branch. I tried a slightly different shield spell, but it passed through that like it wasn't even there. Moving my feet, I got ready to turn and run. It wasn't a good plan, but it was the best one I had.

Elron sliced his sword through the air, momentarily cleaving a section from the main portion. The smoke jerked back, and the blob Elron had removed faded into nothing.

I stood there, mouth agape. The elf had the only weapon that could hurt the smoke-thingy. Elron was going to divulge some of that sword's secrets. It was embarrassing enough that he was always Johnny-on-the-spot, but to be outdone by a piece of metal was more than I could take. Besides, if I was going to keep getting nasty visitors, I needed to learn that trick.

It gathered itself into a ball and shot up into the air, then circled the clearing before diving at me. A sudden blast of wind knocked it off course, but it corrected and was still coming for me. Elron slashed at it but missed. As it swung down, I ducked. It missed me by inches and shot back up into the sky.

A deafening peal of thunder rolled through the air. I clapped my hands over my ears even though it was too late to help. Thankfully, the thunder did something to the smoke. It hung there, wavering back and forth. If I'd known thunder would do the trick, I could've manufactured some. I slowly removed my hands from my ears. Covering them wasn't doing any good since my hearing was gone for the moment.

Several feet above the smoke, a shape moved. Crossing my fingers, I hoped for an ally. Somehow I didn't think we were prepared for another enemy. A column of white light emanated out of the dark shape, hitting the smoke, which twisted and thrashed until nothing was left. As the white light faded, I rubbed my eyes. At least one of my primary senses needed to work.

The air stirred, and I regained enough vision to see Julius land next to the shield that was still protecting the ashes of the undead. He sat back on his haunches, looking about as harmless as a seven-foot-tall gargoyle can when he'd just incinerated a… well, something bad.

After my eyes resumed working, I snapped my fingers to check my hearing. Nothing. Maybe in a few minutes it would come back. Beside me, Elron had vanished his sword and was shaking his head. Landa was glaring, but it didn't seem to be directed at a particular person.

I sat down. It was going to take time to answer everyone's questions, and we couldn't start that process until vision and hearing returned to the group. Elron sat next to me, between the gargoyle and myself. Baden and Paxton settled down as well. Baden was rubbing his ears, and Paxton was frowning.

Wiggling my ears made them feel gummy. Yawning, I popped them and could hear crickets chirping. The world still sounded funny, but it was an improvement.

"What on God's green earth is going on?" Landa demanded.

I glued my teeth together. Unless a question was directed at me, I wanted to be invisible. Too bad everyone knew the not-dead guy and the smoke-thingy had been after me.

The rest of the group exchanged looks, but they didn't volunteer information either.

"Well, what was that thing? I want answers," Landa snapped. This time she was looking at me. If I'd had answers, I would've offered them on a silver platter.

"If I may," Julius interjected. "I suspect I am the only one qualified to answer that particular inquiry. That was a greater ghoul. It has been a very long time since their ilk walked the land. As you've seen, they are not easy to kill."

"Could we start at the beginning? I feel as if I'm only getting part of the story, and I'd like to understand exactly what a greater ghoul is and how it came to be here," Paxton said.

All eyes turned to me.

"I told you most of it before, but here goes." I retold the night's events in slightly more detail. "You guys showed up when we were burning the body and witnessed the rest."

"There is little I can add. Ty's roar awakened me, and I quickly pulled on my shoes. I was going outside to investigate when Michelle screamed, at which point I went to aid her. The rest of the story is as you heard." Elron finished with a shrug.

Julius nodded. "A greater ghoul can only be summoned by a truly evil creature. Had there been any doubt as to the nature of the evil brewing in Ellijay, this would settle it. As it is, we know that this individual has a vendetta against Michelle. Again, this is not a surprise."

"How do you know that this is the first greater ghoul to show up in a long time?" Baden asked.

"Gargoyles hunt evil. These are creatures of evil. It would be difficult for one of these to escape our notice." Julius saw Landa open her mouth but continued talking. "Let me finish my explanation, as it should simplify this process. Ghouls can be created any number of ways, but the basic requirements are energy and unscrupulous intent. Since most virtuous people will not tamper with the dead, those items are easily met. Greater ghouls are different. A true evil must create them, as only a corrupt individual could not only animate the body but bind a vengeful spirit to it as well. In addition, greater ghouls can target a specific individual."

Julius looked at me. "Should you face one of these again, try a purifying spell, or purify the power before you direct it at the spirit."

I nodded. It usually took power that had been purified to hold anything evil, but when I'd seen the decomposing body running at me, I hadn't been thinking clearly enough to make that connection. Next time I'd know better, and it was one more tidbit to file away in case traditional spells didn't work against something in the future.

"Why didn't the protections stop it?" Landa asked. "Several of us have layered this area in spells, charms, enchantment, and nature magic. It shouldn't have been able to get to the building, never mind scratch Michelle's window."

Julius's wings drooped. "Perhaps that would have worked on a regular ghoul, but greater ghouls are resistant to all types of magic. Had the spells turned it away, it would have terrorized anyone unfortunate enough to cross its path."

"Can we protect her?" Elron asked.

Landa and Mander were focused on Julius, as were Paxton and Baden, which surprised me. Elron had all his attention on me, and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. I felt bad for Julius; it wasn't fair to expect him to have an answer. He was a gargoyle, not a god.

He bowed his head. "True evil is a difficult foe. It's doubtful that she could survive its undivided attention."

"It doesn't matter. I have to stop Gremory." I took a deep breath. It sounded fatalistic when I said it like that. "Not because he wants me dead but because he's killed children and innocent adults."

The group looked at me with varying degrees of shock on their faces, except for Julius, who was smiling ever so slightly, and Elron, whose pursed lips and dark gaze reminded me that he was as driven as I was, though for different reasons.

Before they could recover from the surprise, I continued, "Don't get me wrong. I'm invested in my own survival."

"Can the demon be killed?" Mander asked.

"Yes," Julius said.

"How?" several voices piped up.

"I do not know. That was never my duty."

"Do you know anyone who does know how to kill a demon?" Elron asked.

Julius's shoulders dropped. "Again, no. It is my hope that such knowledge has not been lost."

I studied Julius. He spoke of demons as if they had been here only last month, whereas the rest of the people I'd spoken to thought they were stories told to scare children, with little fact in them. How old was Julius? What did he know that he wasn't willing to share with the group?

"Did we dispose of the body properly? Do we need to do any more cleanup out here, or can we go back inside?" I asked.

"It was a satisfactory disposal. If you drop the shield, I will purify what remains and we can return to the lodge," Julius said.

I did as I was told, and a white light emanating from his palms bathed the area. While Elron checked the perimeter, I went to pet Ty. After chin scratches and numerous good-boys, he settled down and I followed the group back inside.

The light inside didn't flatter any of us. It made Julius look a bit like dirty concrete. Mander, Landa, and Baden were in varying stages of undress, ranging from boxers to a nightgown and robe, none of which had enjoyed the evening jaunt. My pajamas were covered in dirt, and my slippers hadn't held up to the stones. Only Elron and Paxton were truly dressed, and they both had leaves and dirt clinging to their pants.

The group clomped down the hallway, and I followed them, not because I wanted to be with people but because I didn't want to go back to my apartment and I could make tea in the kitchen. If there was ever a night that called for tea, this was it.

Turned out Landa had a similar idea. A steaming teakettle, a box of teas, cups, a bowl of sugar, a pot of tea, and a bottle of blood floated out of the dining room and into the parlor. Apparently I wasn't the only one who needed a drink, because all of us followed the tea service. Landa assumed her customary seat, and the tea set settled onto the table to her right.

I went for the love seat, and Elron claimed the spot next to me. The rest of the group settled down, with Julius curling up on the floor. Baden returned from the back of the parlor with a tumbler of whiskey.

The bottle of blood remained in the air, floating over to Paxton once he took a seat. One by one, Landa took requests, and cups of tea floated across the room. I'd yet to get the hang of accepting floating beverages. It wasn't something I had practiced, and the two different methods—grabbing the item out of the air or waiting for it to come to rest in your hand—weren't interchangeable. As usual, I sloshed when Landa released the cup, letting the full weight settle into my hand.

"What time is it?" Elron asked.

"Not long before dawn," Paxton answered.

"Five in the morning," Landa said.

I whimpered. Before the demon started making trouble, only the police would wake me up in the middle of the night, and they'd usually been kind enough to wait until after dawn.

This was getting out of hand. The ghoul was the third attack at the lodge, and it was sheer luck no one had been injured. Without Julius, the spirit would've… Well, I didn't know what it would've done.

"Julius," I said, "what would the vengeful spirit have done if you hadn't killed it?"

He was saved from answering by two loud stomps and the front door opening. A few footsteps later, Liam strode though the door.

"What's this?" Liam asked.

"You missed the memo about the early-morning tea party," Elron replied.

Paxton snorted and Baden rolled his eyes before finishing the whiskey.

Landa glared at Elron before turning to Liam. "We had an unexpected, violent, late-night guest. Would you like tea?"

"Please, something soothing." He scrubbed the top of his head with one hand.

"How is the pack?" I asked.

"Better, but it was a rough night." Liam accepted a cup from Landa and found a seat. "We have some personal issues to work through, but I was able to help out the worst of the… afflicted. A few more days and they'll be back to normal."

Too tired to say meaningless things, I nodded.

Liam's eyes roamed the group. "What really happened?"

Three mouths opened, and I shot out of my seat. "If you are going to retell this story, I'm out of here. Thank you for the tea, Landa." With that, I bolted out of the room.

It said something that I'd pick going back to my room and showering over staying in the cozy parlor. Not that there was anything wrong with my apartment, but the revolving door of uninvited visitors was wearing me thin. Perhaps I'd be more tolerant if they would pick a different window, but the awakening to nastiness at my window was freaky.

A board squeaked behind me and I whipped around, wand in hand. My shoulders dropped and I took a deep breath to relax. It was only Elron.

"Following me?" I prodded.

"Yes, but with the best of intentions. You are more than welcome to clean up in my apartment, or I can keep watch while you attend to your needs in your own home," he offered. "It is difficult to relax when you are looking for the next bit of danger."

It was the eyes, clouded with ghosts of days past, worry of days to come, and overflowing with need, that got me. He could put up a good front, letting people see the powerful elven warrior or sarcastic gardener, but right now he was the same friend who'd fallen into my arms asking for help.

"All right, come on in."

Chapter 8: Michelle

I tiptoed through the living room and out the front door, breathing a sigh of relief when I didn't hear Elron stir. Even if he was awake, he was resting, something I should've been doing after the hectic night. A nice cup of tea would have to do instead. Wells had called and wanted to talk.

The lodge's front door closed behind me, and a glowing blue ball zipped across the lawn.

"Fehu," I snarled. The orb crusted over with ice and fell to the ground with a satisfying thump. Wells and the demon were more important, and I didn't have it in me to listen to another round of threats and bribes.

As frustrating as the harassment was, the clans weren't my biggest problem right now. An endless slew of nasty-grams was frustrating but not harmful. The clans could stay at the bottom of my list as long as they kept their antics to paper and holograms. I'd deal with them after Gremory was good and dead.

The drive to Ellijay went by in fits and spurts. Some sections of road seemed endless, and others vanished between thoughts. Nothing about this meeting excited me. Wells was going to ask questions, good questions that deserved answers, and I didn't have any. I didn't even know where to find them.

I parked, walked into Coffee Time, and waved to Wells. He'd claimed the table in the back that we'd used before. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I ordered, picked up my tea, and went over to Wells.

"We need a better place to meet. This is a bit cliché for my taste," I said as I sat down across from him.

Wells shrugged. "I have a desk in a room full of officers, criminals, victims, and concerned citizens. This is significant improvement on the privacy scale."

"True." From this distance, I could see the bags under his eyes and the pasty quality of his skin. "Are you feeling okay? You don't look good."

He snorted. "Of course I look bad. I read that book. You owe me answers."

"Ask a question and I'll try, but I don't have much in the way of information."

Wells glared at me, not pleased with my response. The problem was that I didn't have what he wanted. There wasn't a solution in my back pocket.

Wells set the book on the table. "Is this the same Elron who was with you when Amber was rescued?"

Narzel fart, I'd wanted to skirt around that topic. There was nothing to be done but dive in. "Yes, and I've spoken to him." I held up my hand before he could interrupt. "You can talk to him and verify all this, but be gentle. This hit him hard, and he hasn't had the easiest time lately."

"I'll put it on the back burner since I talked to him a few days ago," Wells conceded.

Since that was the best I was going to get, I nodded and continued answering his original question. "Elron had no idea she was still alive, but he says she's the only one who could've written the note to him. There's information in it that they never told anyone else. He's not involved, Wells."

"How would you know that?"

My shoulders dropped. "Elron wouldn't harm children, and I don't see him hunting down people to settle a score. However, if he was going to get revenge or settle a vendetta, he'd kill the people he held responsible, no more."

I couldn't paint him as an innocent, harmless elf. Wells wouldn't believe it, and it wasn't true. Sure, Elron was caring, thoughtful, and protective. He'd demonstrated on several occasions his lack of desire to cause harm, but he was capable. Elron preferred to be the sarcastic gardener, but he was a well-trained fighter too.

Wells tapped his fingers on the book and took a sip of coffee. The corners of his lips weren't as pinched, and color had crept back into his skin. "Let's say I believe you and Elron is innocent."

I liked that idea. If he believed me, it would be the one thing that had gone right today.

He continued. "Do you think this is a hoax, set up by Sylvia or someone pretending to be her?"

That wasn't the direction I'd wanted to take this conversation. Too much of my time had gone into that debate, and there wasn't a good answer. "I can't say for sure—there simply isn't much information about demons floating around, but no. I don't think this is a hoax."

"Go on."

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts, and he started tapping his fingers on the table. "I have no way of knowing if a demon or something else I haven't encountered is responsible for the recent events, but the demon theory fits. A few weeks ago, Jerry, the hedge-wizard from Cobb County, and I found a hybrid woman-bird thing breeding magical creatures. She worshipped a demon, Gremory. Then there were the trolls. Elron believed trolls killed Sylvia. I know a sorceress helped free the trolls in Forsyth County. Not many things can make a sorceress, but a demon has that ability. Then there's the way she died, alone in a jail cell, brutally torn apart. Do you want me to go on?"

"Not particularly." Wells fortified himself with a swig of coffee. "I'm not sold on this demon idea—I thought they were myth. Why wouldn't we see them for a very long time and then have one come out of hiding now?"

"I think that's why," I said.

His brow scrunched.

"Think about it. The demons were hunted and killed. Why wouldn't one of them go into hiding? It has the time and can wait for the people who knew how to kill it to die. When demons are nothing more than a story, it has the best chance of success."

Wells lost the color he'd gained. "If that's true, then we're in a bad spot."

"Yes, we are. There's an enemy, demon or not, who is evil and powerful, roaming through Gilmer County." There was more I could've said, but he didn't need to hear it now. Wells was a smart man. It wouldn't take him long to realize that something as pervasive as this demon and the evil he'd done wasn't going to surrender meekly.

Not to mention, if legend was to be believed, the demon was a spirit who could slip from body to body. Jails weren't set up to imprison spirits. If the police tried common ways of capturing and holding the demon, he could slip into another body and be free to continue making trouble.

Wells's hand trembled as he drained his coffee and returned the cup to the table. "Michelle, I have to add the book to the evidence collection. I shouldn't have let you take it to begin with, but I had suspicions…" Clearing his throat, he picked up where he left off. "I love being a police officer, but when it comes to this stuff, our system fails. We evolved out of a system of governing and enforcement that was unique to humans. The rules that worked for them don't work for witches, vampires, giants, or nymphs. President Ederin is the only reason our system works as well as it does."

President Ederin had a way of inspiring an orderly and law-abiding populace. It could've been his age; he was old even by elven and vampire standards. Maybe it was his size; he was a large dragon, needing the equivalent of six football fields to lie comfortably. My theory was it was a bit of both, mixed with a healthy respect for any creature that could incinerate you with a cough and had the biggest teeth on the continent. President Ederin didn't just intimidate the bipedal population into good behavior; dragons and their kin had a healthy respect for him too.

Wells continued, "In the past thirty years, everyone has gotten better at looking to the police rather than their kindred for regulation, but we aren't set up for demons and sorcerers. Maybe one day we will be, but I don't think that's today." He dropped his head into his hands with a soft groan, all twelve of his fingers digging into his scalp.

The feeling of dread his words should've inspired never came. Sitting there, watching him cope with a fight he wasn't prepared for, brought the entire situation into sharp focus. "You are going to put that book in evidence and make it part of the investigation. Then we do research. I don't know if we can fight Gremory, but we should be able to identify him and his allies."

Wells pulled his head out of his hands, confusion written all over his face.

My lips stretched into something resembling a smile. "At least four different counties have files on activity related to Gremory. That doesn't even include what the ATF and FBI have thanks to the trolls. There has to be something there."

His eyes sharpened, and for the first time this morning I saw the intelligent man I'd met a few days ago. "I'll get those files. We'll track down his support system and buy ourselves time."

"Exactly."

"I'm glad you're on our side," Wells commented.

Before I could answer, both of our phones rang. I answered mine. "Oaks Consulting. This is Michelle."

"Hi, Michelle. This is Officer Brown with the Gilmer County Sheriff's Office. Would you be able to assist with a situation?"

"Yes, what's going on?" I shoved a finger in my ear to drown out Wells's shout. Call me crazy, but I had a feeling we were getting similar phone calls.

"Could you come to the jail? Gremlins are attacking, and we can't fend them off."

"Attacking? How many?"

Before Officer Brown had time to answer, Wells pulled my finger out of my ear. "My car. Now."

I nodded and bolted after him. The other customers dodged out of his way, leaving a clear path for me.

"It looks like several hundred. How soon can you be on scene?"

"I'm in town with Wells. I'll be there soon."

I gave my car, and all my supplies, one wistful look before belting myself into the police cruiser. Normally I wouldn't budge without my bags, but I had my wand, and that would have to do. Wells had us out of the parking lot and zooming down the road before I even got around to stuffing my phone in my purse and taking my wand out of the wrist sheath.

"What did you hear?" I asked.

"Nothing useful. Gremlins everywhere and backup is needed at the jail. Hush." He flipped on the radio and a voice crackled to life, repeating what he'd just said.

We clung to every word coming out of that radio for the ten minutes it took us to reach the jail. The jail had been locked down, with prisoners in their cells and armed police watching the perimeter. During the trip, we learned that there were packs of gremlins all long the fence and some had gotten inside the jail. The front gate had a crowd of them. Estimates on the number of gremlins varied, but the fence was beginning to buckle under their weight.

At this point, the police had a tactical problem. Backup was stuck outside the gate, and if an escalation in force was necessary, which was rapidly becoming the case, the two groups were in each other's line of fire.

Wells took a right, taking us up a hill. Partway up, he parked the car behind a line of police vehicles. As soon as the car stopped moving, we were out and sprinting up the hill. Cresting the hill, we found a milling group of policemen studying the mass of gremlins in front of them.

Personally, I didn't think the reports coming over the radio painted an accurate picture. However, it was hard to describe the scene. The last tenth of a mile of road was packed with squarely built, eighteen-inch-tall, semihuman-looking things swaddled in all types of dirty, ripped clothing. Not a one of their bulbous, squished faces was turned in our direction. In the distance, I could see smaller groups against the fence.

"Michelle, what do we do?" Wells asked.

"Um."

"Come on, this is your department."

"Give me a minute." Even though there was a small army of gremlins on the road, they weren't doing anything overly impressive. The crowd in front of me was simply pressing forward. The metal groaned, and I could see the fence sagging. The gremlins were slowly breaking the gate, but it wasn't a smart or efficient plan.

"Can you find Officer Brown? He's the one who called me," I said.

"Done." Wells hurried off, leaving me to contemplate the mess.

Generally speaking, small nuisance creatures fell to Animal Control. If this had been one or two rather than a streetful, that's who they would've called. It wasn't the worst idea for the current issue. Even though they didn't have the capacity to hold all the gremlins, it would get some of them off the street.

With Animal Control as a small-scale solution, I tried to figure out the big picture, but it didn't make sense to me. Gremlins were solitary creatures and wouldn't band together without direction. Gremory had to be behind this, but of all the things to do with an army of gremlins, why attack a jail? So far there had been some logic, even if it was twisted and abstract, to everything Gremory had done.

Wells jogged over. "Brown is working inside the jail. They're dealing with gremlins who snuck in when a patrol car came in for a drop-off."

"Do they need me?" I almost didn't ask. There were enough problems out here that we didn't need to spend time getting me in and out of the jail.

"He didn't ask for help."

I nodded. "Can you get Animal Control out here? It may not fix the problem, but they can't hurt."

"Done. Anything else?"

"Not yet."

"Let me know when you have a plan. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Wells was on the phone and winding his way through the officers before I had a chance to respond. I don't know how he did it, but in seconds the disorganized group of police was focused on him.

Turning away from them, I refocused on my situation. Stretched before me was a tenth of a mile of two-lane road packed with problems. In the distance, the top of the fence wobbled. If I was going to keep them outside the jail, I was running out of time.

I let tendrils of power snake out from me, exploring the land, gremlins, and even the jail for spells. It wasn't easy to search for subtle spells using such a light touch, but if the demon had a nasty trick planned for me, I wanted to be able to pull back in a hurry.

With a heavy sigh, I tugged the power back into myself, disappointed with my findings. There was a buzzing energy moving among the gremlins, and I couldn't tell if they were doing it or if it was the result of magic. Either way, it was outside my experience.

I took a few steps forward and glanced over my shoulder. The police didn't seem to be paying me any attention. A few more steps, and I was inches from the last gremlin. It stood there, oblivious to my presence, leaning on the gremlin in front of it.

Wand ready, I brushed it with my shoe. It swung around, bared its pointy teeth, and hissed. I took a step back, and it turned back to the group, resuming its leaning. There went my hope that I'd missed an illusion spell.

"Michelle, what are you doing?" Wells shouted.

"My job," I yelled as I turned my back to the gremlins and returned to the police line.

All six of his fingers tapped against his leg. "Take one of us with you next time. Everyone, this is Michelle Oaks, our witch. Michelle, I think you remember Gudger. Please meet Lopez and Hill."

They nodded at me, and I nodded back. Gudger was a familiar face. He was a werebear who'd been on the scene to mop up after Amber was recovered. Lopez and Hill looked to be human, but so did Wells at first blush.

"What did you find?" Wells asked.

"Nothing particularly useful. There's an odd energy around them. It's not something I've seen before. The one I poked didn't like being touched, but it wasn't aggressive. I'm not sure what to make of that, but it's what I know." Now that I'd shared, I could use some information flowing in my direction.

Wells nodded. "At this point, we've redistributed the on-duty officers and called other departments for assistance. Several animal control units are on their way. It's going to be twenty minutes before the first of them arrive."

I doubted animal control units would be enough considering the numbers we were facing, even though gremlins could be contained without too much difficulty since they didn't have enough power to magic their way out of captivity. Capturing them was a different story. They were mean, vicious, fast, and small.

"What can you do to help?" Hill asked.

Turning to look him in the eyes, I answered, "It depends on what you want. I might be able to contain or disable most of them, but I won't be able to do much else at that point. Not to mention, that doesn't get them out of here, which is what we really need." Refocusing my gaze, I looked at all of them. "If you can think of something you want me to do, speak up."

"Reinforce the gate and fence," Wells said. "We can't afford to have any more of them in the jail."

"Then I need to get to the gate." I could do some work from this distance, but the spell I knew required me to be in contact with the item. Not to mention, I needed to get closer to see the extent of the damage I would be countering. From this distance I could tell the gate and adjacent fencing were at an angle and bowing under the weight of the gremlins.

"I'm going with you for your protection," Wells said.

I nodded. "Ready when you are."

Wells looked at the men. "Gudger is in charge while I'm gone."

They nodded and the two of us started down the road. A few feet from the gremlins, I followed Wells over the curb and started walking on the grassy shoulder. Wells was walking ahead of me, eyes scanning and a hand on his gun.

As before, the gremlins ignored us. Frankly, it was uncanny to walk past a knee-high threat that was oblivious to your presence. Not that I wanted them to notice me. One or two gremlins weren't an issue, but I didn't want hundreds of them attacking me.

The entire situation made me twitchy. Gremlins were known for sneaking around, messing up cars, tractors, laundry, or dinner. Nothing I'd heard mentioned them acting in large groups and being completely silent. Any communication was inaudible to humans, shifters, and witches.

The number of gremlins was compounding the problem. There were plenty of things I could do, but few of those would work on this many gremlins. Even if I did neutralize them, I'd have to stay to monitor the spells until we figured out what to do with them, and that could take a while.

We reached the gate without incident or speech, but I guess there wasn't much to say. I carefully made my way over to the curb, standing inches from the rather flat gremlins in the front of the line. If I was careful, I could lean over them enough to work on the gate.

"I'll keep watch." Wells stood beside me, though I wasn't sure what he would do if the gremlins became violent. We'd be overwhelmed in seconds.

Taking a deep breath, I settled down. I used the tip of my wand to inscribe runes for strength, endurance, and resilience into the gate. I blew out a breath, gathered my power, and spoke the remaining runes, feeding power into the spell. A first there wasn't a change, but then the gate straightened, pushing the gremlins back. The metal swelled, and if you looked closely, the air along the fence had a faint shimmer.

"Done. I'm going to help the fence out too." He nodded, but I was already doing a weaker form of the spell on the fence. The idea was the same, but on a much smaller scale. Basically, it gave the fence a boost, corrected weak spots or minor damage. It wasn't much, but it was what I could manage for the entire length of the fence while still keeping plenty of power in reserve.

When I cut myself off from the spell, my vision narrowed and clouded. The light-headed moment passed, and I pushed away from the fence. It had taken more effort than I'd expected to strengthen the fence, but it was worth it to keep gremlins out of the jail.

"Unless there's something else I need to do here, I'm ready to go," I said.

"Let's stay for a minute, see what's going on," Wells suggested.

We stood there and watched a lot of nothing. The gremlins, both at the gate and along other portions of the fence, continued their attack as the police on both sides of the fence kept a close eye on them.

The minutes ticked by until two trucks backing up the road caught my eye. "Wells, what are those?"

He shaded his eyes with one hand. "Animal Control. Let's go."

The return trip was as uneventful and creepy as the walk to the fence had been. The hairs on my arms were standing on end, as were the ones on the back of my neck. This was wrong, and nothing like typical gremlin behavior, though I had to wonder if anyone knew what gremlins would do when supported by a true evil, like a demon.

Back at the road, Wells led me over to the new arrivals and made the introductions. "Ladies, this is Michelle Oaks, witch. Michelle, please meet Officers Stallings and Shalatar."

"Nice to meet you," I said. Stallings was some type of fey, tall and slender, with green hair and brown skin. Shalatar was short for an elf, about five and a half feet tall, had the face of a middle-aged woman, and a slight belly. Under different circumstances, I'd be curious about her build since I hadn't seen many portly elves.

"Good to meet you too. Westmoreland speaks highly of you. Now, from what we were told, you want help removing these vermin?" Stallings said.

"Yes. I know you won't have the capacity for all of them, but I thought we could get a few out of here." I sighed. "I know that sounds stupid, but I don't have a better idea."

Shalatar smiled. "It's hardly a stupid idea. The scale is rather daunting, however."

Stallings picked up where Shalatar left off. "Additionally, this is abnormal behavior for gremlins. I've never seen it before."

She sent Shalatar a questioning look. Shalatar shook her head: no; she hadn't seen it either.

"It seems odd to me too. There's an energy about the gremlins, but I can't tell if it's a spell or something they're doing. They don't react to people being nearby. When I touched one, it did turn away from the group and hiss at me, but it immediately turned back to the group." Every word made me feel less than useful. In the time I'd been here, I'd learned very little about them and didn't have a way of neutralizing the mass of gremlins in front of us, never mind the ones elsewhere.

"Hmm, odd behavior for a gremlin. Well, let's see how many we can collect. Do you have gloves?" Stallings asked.

"Not with me. My kit didn't make it out here."

"I think I have an extra pair that will fit you."

"Thanks." Strange gloves, especially the thick ones used by Animal Control, would make handling my wand difficult, so I opted to stow it in my wrist sheath.

Stallings went around to the passenger side of the truck and scrounged around inside for a moment before coming back and handing me a set of heavy leather gloves. "See if these fit."

Starting with my left hand, I pulled the gloves on and wiggled my fingers to get them in the correct places. Clenching my hands, I was happy the gloves flexed easily. If anything, they were a hair on the large side for my hand, but that was better than being too small.

"These will work. Thank you."

Stallings smiled at me as she opened the back of the truck and slid three cages onto the ground. After closing the back doors, she went to the front of the truck and came back with a sword strapped to her back. At the next truck, Shalatar had dropped four cages on the ground and was attaching two large daggers to her belt. Given the options, I had to say I had more faith in the sword. It was hard to make trouble when you were in pieces.

"Do you have an exact plan?" Shalatar asked.

"I'm sure you ladies know more about gremlins than I do. I'll follow your lead." Honestly, I didn't want any more responsibility in this mess than I'd already gotten. This was way outside my experience and abilities.

Stallings studied the herd of gremlins and shrugged. "Given the look of things, I'd walk over and start stuffing them in cages."

Shalatar nodded.

"Ok, works for me," I said.

Shalatar handed me a small cage before taking a larger one. Stallings picked up a biggish cage, and we were ready to capture some gremlins. The three of us walked up behind the pack of gremlins, set down the cages, and looked at one another. The two of them nodded at each other and grabbed a gremlin.

I stood there, mouth agape, as Stallings gripped a gremlin by the neck with one hand and opened the cage with her other hand. The gremlin was in the cage before it knew it'd been separated from the group.

Shalatar was equally efficient, though she took a different approach. She opened the cage and kept the door from swinging shut with one foot while she snatched a gremlin in each hand and shoved them into the open cage. It was closed and locked by the time they started to hiss and fight.

The rest of the gremlins were still leaning against the gremlins in front of them, completely uncaring of the fate of their friends. Their apathy was the only thing that gave me the courage to go grab one. I decided to split the difference in the officers' approaches and held the cage open with one foot as I wrapped both of my hands around a gremlin and swung it into the cage as quickly as I could.

I wasn't as fast as the ladies, and mine started hissing, wiggling, and clawing at me halfway to the cage. The gloves protected me from its sharp nails, and I had it in the cage before it could do real damage. With my first one dealt with, I breathed a sigh of relief and tried not to think about the remaining gremlins. A quick look to either side verified my suspicions. Stallings had four and Shalatar had six in the cages.

We filled the set of cages without incident. The gremlins didn't care if their fellows were snatched and continued leaning into the group as if nothing were going on behind them. Coming back, we each carried two cages. Once they were filled, we would be out of cages and have to find a new plan for containing these beasties.

The three of us set up our cages, and I reached for a gremlin. The entire back row turned around and hissed at me before resuming their previous stance. I froze, hands outstretched and one foot holding open the cage door. When the gremlins didn't offer any violence, I relaxed and took a few steps back. Stallings and Shalatar joined me several feet away from the gremlins.

It took a few tries, but I did get my mouth closed. Clearing my throat, I said, "That's new."

"What changed?" Stallings asked.

"What? I'm confused."

"You said that was new, which I'm understanding to mean that was not behavior you had witnessed previously. It certainly differed from what I've seen since my arrival. With that in mind, what changed between last time we placed them in cages and now?"

I tore my eyes away from the mass of gremlins in front of us and focused on the rest of the area. The herd on the road was continuing to lean against the gate, which seemed to be holding thanks to the magical enhancements. Around the rest of the fence, small packs of gremlins had abandoned their attempts to break into the jail and were slowly marching in this direction.

"I don't know what changed, but we have more problems headed this way." I pointed to a particularly large group making its way along the fence. It would be nice if luck would join my side and groups of gremlins would start falling over dead.

Shalatar sighed. "We are not set up to manage nuisance creatures on this scale."

"Understandable," I said. It's not often that gremlins, or most magical critters, were found in groups this large. Even the most group-oriented ones were seldom seen in packs larger than thirty individuals. "Do we have a plan?"

"Finish filling the cages we have and hope help arrives before things get worse," Shalatar offered.

Stallings frowned and shrugged without offering any suggestions. "Might as well."

Squaring my shoulders, I marched up to the mass of gremlins, toed open a cage, and adjusted my gloves. Taking a deep breath, I lunged forward and got my hand on one of them. I was leaning back to stuff the squirming body into the cage when it stopped moving. Before it could resume its hissing and clawing, I shoved it in the cage and locked the door.

Swinging around, I jerked to a halt. All the gremlins had turned around and were looking at us. On each side of me, Stallings and Shalatar were focused on the wall of gremlins. They seemed to have forgotten about the pudgy gremlins in their hands.

The gremlin in front of me smiled, an expression that was unnatural and repugnant on its lumpy, disproportionate face. One by one, the gremlins around him broke into crooked smiles.

This was not a good sign.

"Michelle, it's so nice to meet you," the gremlin in front of me said.

Behind him, the rest of the gremlins intoned, "Nice to meet you."

I stood there, mouth agape, and tried to figure out what I should say.

The gremlin didn't have a problem choosing his next words. "Be sure to keep your family safe. It would be terrible if anything happened to them."

"It could happen to them," the rest of the crowd echoed.

My arms prickled and my vision clouded. This wasn't about getting a prisoner or attacking the police station. It was about me and mine. Gremory wasn't going to get my family.

"You can't have them," I told the gremlins.

"We will have you. Then we will get them." All the gremlins spoke at once in a flat tone that vibrated with their voices, which weren't perfectly in sync. "We will bring you to Gremory."

"I'll believe that when it happens. It would take more than a horde of gremlins to best a witch." I didn't entirely believe my words. If I'd been alone, this many gremlins might have done it, but with a fey, an elf, and shifters, the odds were in my favor.

"We will bring you to Gremory," the crowd repeated in an eerie voice.

As the three of us faced off against hundreds of them, I tried to figure out my next move. We didn't have a way to neutralize or contain this many gremlins, and there was a limit to what I could do magically.

I never got a chance to voice any of these thoughts, because at that moment, the gremlins attacked. The ones Stallings and Shalatar were holding went from limp to violent—hissing, scratching, biting, and kicking with all their might.

I was awash with stout bodies. They launched themselves at me, digging claws into my legs and slashing and tearing at any available body part. One of them flew at my face, and I knocked it aside with my arm. When my face was, at least temporarily, out of danger, I kicked, thrashed, and yanked gremlins off every part of me, losing bits of skin in the process.

A quick look around revealed that Shalatar was faster than I'd expected with the daggers. The gremlins around her were forced to climb over her previous attackers, and she was starting to get some space from the group.

On my other side, Stallings had the sword moving so quickly my eyes couldn't track it, but I heard faint whooshes. There were plenty of pudgy bodies around her feet too, but she was doing quick footwork to stay upright and give herself enough room to use the sword effectively.

Then there was me, continually swamped by the creatures, sticking my left leg out and shaking it around before putting my right hand in and flinging a gremlin back into the horde. I felt like I was doing the hokey pokey, only deadlier.

I glanced over my shoulder again. Stallings was a good twenty feet from me, and Shalatar was even farther away than that. Shaking off another gremlin, I smiled. Now I had room to work.

Taking a deep breath, I contracted my magic into a tight ball where I gave it direction and shape. I forced the spell to expand, pushing it out in every direction as I shouted, "Fehu."

All around me, gremlins stilled and toppled over as frost encrusted them. A couple were caught in mid jump and crashed to the ground where they shattered. Several other were frozen to the earth, both feet planted solidly enough to keep them upright.

With the gremlins to my sides and back taken care of, I could focus on the mob in front of me. A few steps forward, and I pulsed the spell in a half circle, catching five or six ranks. The gremlins continued to rush me, trampling their fallen companions in the process.

At this point, I had a better feel for the area I was affecting and added more power to the spell, solidifying the next nine rows. Not wanting them to gain any ground, I picked my way through the fallen bodies, kicking them to the side when there wasn't a path. This time I froze enough of them that it stalled the progress of the column, which seemed to be contained to the road. The gremlins marching at me from the rest of the jail were under no such constraint and surged over the shoulder, coming at me from both sides.

The way I'd been tossing power around was taking its toll. A few more spells and I'd be back to doing the Hokey Pokey.

Feet planted, I let the gremlins swarm me as they closed in from every direction. When the first one was gathering himself to leap on me, I released another burst of the spell, turning gremlins into Popsicles down the road and onto the grass. Behind the iced gremlins, more of them were descending upon me. The gate was only a hundred and fifty feet away, but it felt farther with gremlins coming at me from every direction.

"I have had about enough of this. Gremory, they're gremlins! What are they going to do, gnaw me to death? We both know you want the satisfaction of dealing with me on your own," I yelled.

The gremlins replied in the same hair-raising voice they'd used before, but it had lost a bit of its power. It's hard to sound intimidating when most of your speakers are out of breath. "You are a bug to be squished, hardly worthy of my undivided attention."

"You think they're going to squish me? They aren't even two feet tall, and I've turned most of them into Popsicles!" I had one more good spell in me, and it had to finish the job.

The gremlins gathered around, encircling me but not attacking. If the past was anything to go by, they would rush me and that would be my chance to end this nonsense. My bravado dampened when I realized there were more than thirty ranks surrounding me. I'd yet been able to freeze more than fifteen rows, and I was on the waning side of my power.

"Gremory will have you and your family," they intoned.

I didn't bother to reply.

The gremlins charged, and I flung the last of my power at them. "Fehu!" Dozens of them frosted, but I didn't get all of them. The remaining gremlins started climbing over and around their friends, still headed for me.

From behind me, I heard a loud clap, and a shadow trailed across the ground, moving my way. A high-pitched whistle cut through the air. Panicking, I screamed and ducked.

"Mother Earth, don't let this be the end of me," I whispered.

Seconds passed and nothing happened. I wasn't attacked by a single gremlin or whatever was in the sky. Still on my hands and knees, I looked over my shoulder. There, plain as day, was Horst, gliding through the air while whistling. Gremlins scrambled to get out of his way, but everything he directed a whistle at turned to stone.

I slowly stood up, mouth agape. All around me were statues of pudgy bodies. My eyes trailed over the road, up and down each grassy shoulder and along the fence. There wasn't a moving gremlin to be found. Gray gremlins dotted the landscape, standing, fallen, and occasionally broken. One near me, which was frosted over from a spell of mine and gray from the gargoyle's ability, had fallen over and the arm had snapped off. Kneeling down, I picked up the limb. It was cold enough to make my fingers ache, but instead of seeing flesh and bone, I saw a monotone gray. The gargoyles had turned the gremlin to stone.

Gargoyles turning creatures to stone was a new one to me. I'd known they would fight evil and had tough hides, but this ability had been left out of my education, and it was fascinating to see it in action. One day I'd have to sit down with a gargoyle and figure out how they did it. It wasn't as simple as hearing the tone, or I'd be a statue too.

Two more gargoyles flew into view, and I turned my attention to the sky, shading my eyes with one hand. Sure enough, there were four gargoyles circling overhead. It was a relief to see the situation under control. All the credit on this one went to the gargoyles for accomplishing what I couldn't.

I wasn't very careful as I walked down the road. The gremlins were dead. Being in one piece or several made little difference. It took longer than I liked, but I finally made it past the piles of bodies Stallings and Shalatar had left. Like the rest of the gremlins, these were stone too.

Stallings and Shalatar were covered with blood, which stood out all the more next to the clean and tidy cops around them. Shalatar was wiping down her daggers with a rag while Stallings uncapped a bottle of water and poured it over her blade before toweling it dry.

"Michelle, what did you do?" Wells asked.

"This isn't me. Ask the gargoyles." Over the past few weeks, I'd pulled some pretty impressive spells out of my hat, but I couldn't turn an army of gremlins into stone without preparation.

I was saved from further conversation by Horst and another gargoyle landing next to us. The second gargoyle was potbellied and clearly female. Her horns were shorter, spiraling a few inches away from her head, but she had an impressive set of talons.

"Horst, may I introduce you to Detective Wells? Detective Wells, this is Horst, the leader of the flock of gargoyles residing in your park. I'm afraid I don't know his companion's name," I finished.

"Greetings, Michelle, Detective Wells. This is Octavia," Horst said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Octavia." I bowed my head.

"Nice to meet you," Wells said.

Octavia smiled. "It's nice to meet you as well. I must say, it has been years since I've had such fun. Rarely do we have the opportunity to stone people these days."

I blinked, searching for the right words. "We're grateful for your assistance."

"Yes, most grateful. We were in a bind before you arrived," Wells added.

"It was our pleasure. We will continue to patrol the area for any gremlins that escaped, and we will be happy to provide a statement if you come by the park this evening." Horst turned his attention to me. "Michelle, be sure to speak with Julius when you return home."

"I will. Thank you for helping us. I don't know what we would've done without you."

"You are most welcome." Octavia smiled at me, and the two of them took off.

Wells waited until they were on the other side of the jail before speaking. "That was educational. Now, Michelle, what did you do?"

"I really don't understand the question." He would have to be more specific. It had been a busy morning.

"One minute the gremlins were peaceful while y'all stuffed them in cages, and the next they were threatening you. What changed?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you." Since it didn't look like we were moving to a more comfortable location any time soon and my feet hurt, I sat down on the pavement.

Shalatar piped up before Wells could continue questioning me. "She didn't do anything. None of this is normal behavior for gremlins. Whatever had them gathered in a large group and attacking the jail is responsible, not her."

"Thank you," I said, grateful that someone else saw it that way.

"Anything you want to add, Stallings?" Wells asked.

"Shalatar covered it. Can we get this documented so we can clean it up?"

"What's the rush? It's going to take days to gather up all the gremlins," Wells said.

Stallings shook her head. "Once it's documented, I can clean it up in a matter of minutes unless you think we need to keep all the gremlins for evidence."

Wells looked around and paled. I couldn't blame him. There were several dump-truck loads of gremlin-shaped rocks scattered across the road and surrounding land.

"Before we continue this debate, what happened to the gremlins inside the jail?" I asked. Officer Brown hadn't sounded good when we were on the phone.

"They captured the gremlins that were in the jail. Turns out the inmates weren't overly fond of them and assisted the officers. It's under control, and they're doing one last sweep of the building," Wells answered.

"Good, I was worried. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to call my parents while y'all debate what's going to end up as evidence."

Wells nodded but didn't even look at me as he resumed his discussion with Stallings.

The walk to the car felt longer without the adrenaline rush. Once there, I retrieved my phone and found three missed calls from my parents. I sat down on the curb and called Dad.

He answered on the third ring.

"Hi, Dad."

"Michelle, where are you? We're hearing reports of an attack on the jail."

"I'm at the jail. Don't worry. Everything is under control and I'm fine." I could hear him sigh.

"You're okay?" he asked calmly.

"I am." This is why I'd called Dad. He might not be happy about the events, but he wouldn't grill me the way Mom would.

"Good. We were worried."

With the gremlins' words fresh in my mind, I changed topics. "Is Mom with you?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, Gremory made a threat against you. It would be good if you could come to the lodge for a few days. You'll be safe there." I held my breath. Maybe he would say yes without an explanation.

"What kind of threat? Did he threaten you?"

"Dad, I told you, I'm fine. The threat wasn't explicit, but I'm worried about you."

"We've taken precautions."

"I know, but I'd still feel better if you stayed at the lodge for a day or two." The situation was bad enough without worrying that Gremory was going to harm my family.

"You owe us an explanation."

"I know, and you'll get one at the lodge." With the way things had been going, I needed a better strategy when it came to Gremory. Maybe there was a book that could help. Ten Tips for Dodging Demons, or Six Ways to Outsmart Evil would be good.

"We'll meet you there, and Michelle, we need answers."

"I know, Dad, and I'll tell you everything, just not over the phone."

He sighed. "Stay safe. We'll see you soon."

"Be careful," I whispered, but he'd already hung up.

Phone in hand and purse over my shoulder, I trudged back up the road. Each foot was twice its usual weight and the hill seemed to have gotten taller and steeper while I was on the phone.

Two gargoyles were still circling the jail, and several groups of police were exploring the area outside the jail. There were six officers with cameras, snapping pictures of everything. I pitied them. They would be at that for days.

Ahead of me, Stallings stomped her foot and pointed to her right. From this angle, there were several small pine trees between me and whatever she'd pointed at. Wells nodded, and she spun away from him, her green braid inches from hitting him. Stallings took a deep breath… and nothing happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shalatar sit down.

Frowning, I kept walking. One foot was in the air when the earth trembled under me. Tumbling forward, I managed to stay upright, bracing my feet to ride out the quake. Wells was kneeling and an officer next to him had fallen, but the rest of the police were oblivious, continuing to take pictures and explore the fence line. To my right, three stone gremlins sank into the ground, leaving nothing behind. The shaking stopped, and I hurried over to Wells and Stallings.

Now that I was closer, I could identify the fallen officer. Wells helped Hill stand, and Stallings stood there with a slight smile. Shalatar stood up and shoved a cage of live gremlins into the truck before latching the back of the vehicle.

"What happened to the gremlins?" I asked as I joined the group.

"Stallings was demonstrating her method of disposing of the gremlins," Wells answered.

I kept a bland expression while I tried to figure out how get useful information without being overly blunt or rude. "I can see that, but I don't understand the sequence of events."

Stallings crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. "The gremlins are truly stone. They cannot be returned to their animated form. Since stone is from the earth, I returned them to the earth."

Nodding, I kept my thoughts to myself. Sure, it made sense when she put it like that, but it wasn't simple or easy to return something to the earth. That was a powerful piece of magic and well beyond the abilities of most fey. I didn't have to know what kind of fey Stallings called herself to know that she was both powerful and favored by the earth.

When I found the right words, I spoke. "That would be an efficient method of removing their remains from the area. Wells, if you don't need me, can I get a ride back to my car? I'm out of spells, and I don't think I'll be much use at this point." Documentation and cleanup weren't in my job description.

"I don't see a reason for you to stay." Wells clapped the officer next to him on the shoulder. "Hill will take you back to your car."

Hill paled. I guess he wasn't looking forward to being trapped in a car with the woman who'd been threatened by an army of gremlins. I couldn't blame him, but with any luck, it would be a long time before I saw another one of those creatures.

Chapter 9: Elron

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Michelle, I was off the couch. She had been my rock, keeping me balanced and steady. Without her, it would be all too tempting to slide back into the despair that had held me captive for days. There was much to be done, and I could not afford more time wallowing. Adding urgency to my actions was the persistent itch of the Call.

I briefly visited my apartment to wash and change clothes, but I did not linger. The wall held too many memories. Every corner had some piece of me, from joy to sorrow, from laughing with Michelle to reminiscing over Sylvia. In a few days it would simply be my home, but for now it was filled with memories I did not wish to relive.

On the way out the door, I snatched a muffin from the dining room. The drive to work was pleasant, and my Call subsided into a gentle whisper in the back of my mind once I arrived at the school. I settled into my office, shuffling through the papers that had accumulated on my desk. With nothing needing urgent attention, I took a walk through the greenhouses. The students who were assisting had done well enough with most of the plants, but some of the more contrary greenery had been bothersome enough that the students had been forced to abandon their care.

Satisfied with the plants' condition, I retreated to my office and pulled the diary out of my bag. The Call had been pushing at me, trying to get me to read the book again, but I needed to do it away from Michelle. There was something I was missing. As frustrating as the Call could be, it had yet to send me on a wild-goose chase.

Paging through, I was again struck by the inconsistencies in Sylvia's signature. Any time she wrote a note to me, it was signed "Yours, Sylvia." When she sent notes to others, the signature was simply "Sylvia." There was consistently a single word and her name, but the word before her name was different and often illogical. From the first entry, the signatures read dearest, earnestly, mostly, only, normally, sincerely, blessings, always, now, and eternally before repeating in that same order. The signatures continued to repeat until the last two entries, the one that she did not complete and the entry written for me.

As out of character as it was, the signatures did not hold a meaning I understood. With a sigh, I pocketed the book and returned to the garden. The plants did their part to soothe my soul, but they couldn't quiet the Call. It kept urging me to return to the book and continue examining it for clues. I did my best to ignore it, giving my full attention to each plant.

"Sir?"

I turned away from the Radiant Bleeding Heart to the young centaur who was one of my best students. "Luke, please call me Elron. It is not disrespectful if I've asked you to address me thusly."

Luke bowed his head, the blond of his hair matching his palomino coat, and scraped the ground with a hoof. "I'm sorry, Elron. I forgot."

"All is well. How may I assist you?" I said gently. Luke was the most sensitive of my students, both to the needs of the plants and in his response to a roughly spoken word. The last thing I wanted to do was bruise his feelings.

He looked up at me with big brown eyes. "The hidden tulip has been missing you. It's been invisible for the past two days. I stayed away, not because I wanted to, but because I was afraid I might step on it." A blush crept up his face.

His physical attributes were alternately a blessing and a curse in his mind. Whilst he could get to remote locations, he could also destroy a plant with a single slip of the hoof. I explained that it was equally easy for a human or elf to crush a small plant, but thus far he had not accepted my logic.

"I will pay it a visit. There is no reason for it to be invisible." When I'd checked on it earlier, it had been invisible, but it hadn't given me any indication that it had been that way for days. Its usual disguise as a normal tulip tree kept it hidden enough, though it had been very well concealed out in the forest and might feel more comfortable that way.

Luke smiled at me. "Thank you, Elron." He swallowed hard. "Oh, my mom gave this to me for my birthday. I thought you might want to look at it."

"What is it?"

He handed me a thin book bound in leather. "It's a book about magical plants. Mom said it's been in the family for years. I found a few plants that my other books don't have and marked them."

A few pieces of paper stuck out of the top of the book. I gently flipped to the first one, finding a type of basil I had not encountered before. "Thank you, Luke. I will look through it today and return it to you tomorrow."

"You can keep it longer if you need more time to read it."

"No, Luke. It is very kind of you to offer, but a book like this should stay in the family." The offer was very generous, but I did not want it in my possession any longer than necessary. Whether or not he admitted it, this book was a family heirloom and should be treated as such.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I thought for a moment. There wasn't anything that needed to be done around the greenhouse, but he was ready to do more exciting things. "Yes, tomorrow you should set up a bench in the experimental greenhouse, and you can start working on crossbreeding magical plants. I think the crocus would be a good place to start."

"Really?" Luke swished his tail and shifted from hoof to hoof.

"Yes, just remember that you must get the crocus to bloom out of season before you can go further with the experiment." Given the nature of the crocus, that was more difficult than it sounded.

"Thank you, si—Elron."

"You are most welcome. Have a good day, Luke, and thank you for the book." I smiled.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Luke walked sedately out of the greenhouse, but I heard him prance down the hall.

I gave the Radiant Bleeding Heart one last pat and made my way to the hidden tulip. It was still invisible, so I sat next to it, opened the book, and started to read.

The pages were yellowed with age and made of a heavy, wrinkled parchment that had fallen out of use many years ago. The writing was not the traditional cursive, but a bold, blocky print that was still legible after all these years.

Being legible did not make it easy to read. When this book was written, spelling had yet to be standardized, and time had shifted pronunciations. Even for one as old as myself, it was trying to decipher the intended meaning. Luke must have spent weeks working his way through the book.

I was familiar with many of the plants and considered the information listed incomplete, but there were a few I did not know. The basil was one I hadn't seen before, and it seemed that this variety was native to the Mediterranean. When dried, it tasted of basil and had spiciness commonly associated with peppers. Near the end of the book, an entry caught my eye. The sketch was of a darkly shaded orchid with long petals drooping past the rest of the blossom. My eyes skipped to the text.

The orchid was rare, often growing alone. When in bloom it glowed at night, but finding the orchid was difficult. It had been discovered in different parts of the world but did not regrow in the same place every year. No one knew the ideal growing conditions, and the author could not find anyone who had been able to cultivate it in a garden. The flower was prized because legend said could be used to make a poison that would bind a demon to a body so it could be killed.

My eyes shot up to the title of the entry. Demon's Bane, a flower that could bind a demon to a body. There was something about that name. I traded Luke's book for Sylvia's diary, rapidly flipping through the entries. From beginning to end the first letter of her signatures was D-E-M-O-N-S-B-A-N-E. Oh, what a fool I had been. Sylvia's signatures spelled demon's bane.

Beside me, the air shimmered and the tulip reappeared, quivering with excitement.

I took a deep breath to calm myself and gave my attention to the tree. "You don't need to hide. We want to be able to see you."

It didn't care about visibility right now. It brushed my shoulder and dropped a leaf on the book.

"I know I've seen that flower somewhere." The tulip's leaf reminded me of where I'd seen the flower. "Oh," I said. "It was in the clearing with you."

The tree swayed, and my Calling hit me full force. I had to go back to the woods. I needed to be there. Now would be good, a few moments ago would have been better.

I took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. Seven breathing cycles later, I'd forced the Call down to a persistent push and could continue communicating with the tulip tree.

"So, I clearly need to return to the woods, but when would be the best time for me to visit?"

The tulip was insistent that it did not matter when I went to the woods as long as I did so quickly.

"All right. Let me finish reading this, and I will be on my way."

It was satisfied with my answer.

With a sigh, I turned back to the book and read the entire section on demon's bane from start to finish. There wasn't much that was helpful. The author had only seen the plant once, had never harvested it or concocted the poison. Whilst the author's attempt to catalog the plant was commendable, the lack of information was apparent.

"Will you try not to hide? You upset Luke," I told the tulip.

It agreed to stay visible, though not necessarily in its magical skin, if I would hurry to the woods.

I thanked the tree for the information. On my way out, I stashed the book in my desk with a note that it belonged to Luke. If anything happened to me, the book would be returned to him. As tempting as it was to bring the book, it was not my property to risk. Besides, the information was easy enough to remember, and the book would be here if I needed additional information.

I did take Sylvia's diary. That wasn't a book I was willing to leave behind. The world didn't need to know the secrets it contained. And there was a good chance there was more information hiding in its pages.

Chapter 10: Elron

I parked my car in the same spot I left it last time and did my best to follow the Call. It was easier than trying to retrace my steps, and if I moved too far in the wrong direction, I felt a physical tugging.

Before long, I found myself beside the hidden tulip. The orchids were invisible, as they had been before, so I carefully sat down and reacquainted myself with the tree. It was happy to see me, but it was not as friendly as it had been before.

As time passed, the tone of the forest changed. The woods went from tolerant and amused to aloof and curt. It was an unexpected change, but not surprising since the woods had not been overly welcoming last time I visited.

I addressed the tree one more time. "Can you please show me the flowers? I need a few of them."

The tree refused. It would show them to me, but would not let me harvest them.

"Then I must go." I turned and started back to the car, my Call weighing my feet down until each step was an effort.

The tree called out for me to return.

Turning back, I sighed. "I must have the demon's bane, and if you will not allow me to harvest any of these, I must find it somewhere else."

It was adamant that I should not leave, but it would not give me any of the orchids.

"I will visit again, but right now I must find demon's bane," I told the tree. Its branches drooped, and I felt bad. The tree wanted to help me but felt unable to for some reason.

"For what dost ye need the bane of the demon?" a raspy voice whispered.

I spun around, finding a fey studying me from behind a tree. He watched me with green eyes that were overshadowed by bushy gray eyebrows. His hair matched the tarnished gray of his brows, and bits and pieces had fallen around his face and shoulders after escaping the leather tie holding it away from his face. Although the weather had chilled, he was wearing nothing but roughly woven pants and a leather vest. His arms were thin but corded with muscle.

My heartbeat slowed. The forest was exceptionally fond of this fey. It had masked his approach and dissuaded me from encroaching upon his land last time I was in this area. There were stories of fey who lived outside society, clinging to the old ways. Even to one as old as myself, the ways these fey remembered were foreign and ancient. It was prudent to tread carefully when interacting with a being that was old, powerful, and potentially favored social niceties that had been current four to six thousand years ago.

"I need it to help me kill a demon," I said carefully. The Call had pulled me here and wanted me to meet this man.

"A demon walks terra?" The words were heavily accented and pronounced slowly.

"A demon walks terra, but"—I did some quick math in my head, trying to find a metric of distance he would understand—"two days' ride from here."

"Dost ye know how to prepare the bane?" The gravelly sound was more pronounced.

"No."

"Dost ye know how to dispatch thy demon?"

"No." I tried to determine what the fey was thinking, but his facial expression had not changed since the conversation began. There was nothing for me to do but answer his questions and hope for a beneficial outcome.

"Then ye need my aid. I am Varro." He stepped around the tree, slipped a knapsack off his shoulder, and pulled a curved dagger from his belt. The ground around a tree to his left shimmered, and four demon's bane appeared. He quickly sliced the flowers off the stems and stowed them in his bag.

"Ye will come with me, then I shall go with ye. And speak. I must learn the new manner of speaking." Varro strode into the portion of the woods that had rejected my presence, and I trailed after him.

Michelle was rubbing off on me, because along with thinking about the knowledge Varro could share, I was trying to figure out how well he would tolerate being in a car.

"What is yer name, boy? And tell me of this demon," Varro grumbled.

"I am Elron. The demon's name is Gremory. He is hunting a witch because she interfered with his plans—"

"Do not recall a Gremory." Varro shrugged. "There were many… too many to remember them all. Ye have a witch? Good. Ye shall need her."

I'd assumed we would need magic, but the way Varro said it made me think Michelle was going to be there for more than moral support. His other words resonated with me. How many demons had there been if he couldn't remember their names?

"Keep talking."

I did as I was told. He seemed to have knowledge we lacked, and my Calling had yet to steer me in the wrong direction. "Gremory appears to be occupying the body of an elf."

Varro swung around. "Say that again."

"The demon appears to be occupying the body of an elf."

He pursed his lips and barked, "Be ye sure?"

"Yes."

His head dropped and his shoulders rounded. Varro let out a gusty sigh and raised his head to meet my gaze. "I not be angry with ye. 'Tis ill tidings. Keep talking. There is much to be done."

I continued my explanation as we trudged deeper into the woods. The occasional grunt was all I got from Varro. Eventually we came to a stop in a clearing occupied by a small cabin. The rough logs that made the walls didn't leave any room for windows, and it was small enough that it couldn't have much more than a bed and small cooking area inside. The door was made of hide stretched across sticks. Hundreds of years ago, it would have been a very average home.

"Wait," Varro told me. He didn't look back as he continued through the clearing and into the house. Moments later he emerged, and the knapsack had gone from almost empty to bulging, and a rolled-up blanket was lashed to the top. He had clad his bare feet in ankle-high moccasins.

"Did ye travel on foot?"

"No."

"By horse?"

"A type of wagon," I answered. It was not an untruth. My car was called a wagon, though it had no resemblance to the wagon he probably pictured.

"Ye must take me to the witch. There is much to be done. Lead on, and keep talking." Varro grunted.

I set off in the most direct way to the car, keeping up a running dialog on most of what I knew about Gremory, leaving out the part about him using my wife's body. I did not have time to get weepy, and it was not a pertinent detail at the moment. As I talked, I slowly worked in references to different things that were unique to the modern world, specifically the past twenty years.

Varro broke in. "What be this cell phone ye speak of?"

"Varro," I said softly, "when was the last time you left the woods?"

"'Tis hard to say. There was talk of lamps that glowed without burning. Some places in the city had them."

I kept my face blank. The first lightbulbs were in the early 1800s, though electricity had not become common until the 1900s. Either way, that put his last interaction with the modern world before the invention of almost everything in use today, including cars.

"Things have changed since then, and not just the way people talk."

He nodded. "I know. I have a… friend who visits from time to time. I have seen some new things."

"All right. I will explain what I can." With that, I led him out of the woods. There was nothing more for me to say. If he was what I suspected, then he had survived thousands of years and horrors beyond imagination. A car would be the least of his experiences.

Varro looked at the car and back at me before growling, "'Tis not a wagon."

"It is what people today use instead of wagons."

Varro walked around the car and poked it once. "How dost ye use this wagon?"

"I will guide the wagon." I led him to the back passenger door. "Place your things in here."

He watched me pull the key fob from my pocket and tensed when the door locks clicked over. He continued to watch my every move, his eyes following my hand as I pulled on the handle and swung the door open. The inside of the car was given a thorough once-over before he would set the knapsack on the floorboard. He was equally nervous getting into the car.

I settled Varro in the car and rushed around to the driver's side. Lady Luck was on my side; he didn't damage the car while he waited. Once inside, I did my best to demonstrate the use of a seat belt.

"Varro, you need to put on this harness. It will keep you in your seat if something should happen."

He raised an eyebrow. "What dost ye think could happen?"

"This wagon movies faster than any chariot. When we stop, you might continue forward, as you would on a balking horse, without the harness." After he nodded, I continued, "Grab the strap by your shoulder and bring it across your body. Put the metal piece in this fixture. When it clicks, it is secure."

I demonstrated with my own seat belt and watched as he followed my motions, successfully fastening it on the first try.

"This method of travel may seem strange, but I am proficient in its operation. There is no need to panic. Simply tell me if you would like to take a break."

"I have faced down demons, rogue dragons, and renegade elves. This will not frighten me."

Respectfully bowing my head, I hoped he was correct. I silently asked any deity that was listening to bless us with a smooth and uneventful ride. As I cranked the engine, his hand clamped down on the door. I shifted the car into drive, rolled forward, and the locks clicked down. This time he jumped.

I said another prayer.

Chapter 11: Michelle

The officer dropped me off, then backed his car out of the parking lot fast enough that you would've thought I was a plague-bearer. Granted, I didn't smell the best, but I hadn't frozen anyone in at least an hour. Then again, maybe he wasn't fleeing me but the two envelopes and the blue orb floating above my car.

Looking at the orb, I sighed. It was identical to the one I'd frozen this morning. The Narzel-blessed thing must've thawed and come to find me. It turned into a ribbon and talked at me about how I should join its clan. I couldn't even be happy when it finished because two more of these lovely clan-recruitment messages were waiting for me.

The first letter floated into my hand. It was all I could do not to crumple it and toss it in the trash. Instead, it unfolded itself, and I got the joy of reading through another letter telling me how I was powerful and should hurry to their door so that I could be accepted into their clan. I tossed the letter into my car along with my purse. The second letter followed me into the car where it unfolded and vanished.

I blinked. None of the other letters had vanished.

"This is Gretchen Tomlin, your minister. You must reply to this promptly as we need to schedule a meeting to work out the details of your transition into the clan."

"Not likely," I muttered.

Gretchen continued, "In the event that you do not comply, we will be forced to take drastic action to bring you into the Wapiti, where you belong. Good day, and please respond quickly."

"Great. Just what I needed, more threats." I cranked the car and headed for the lodge. There was nothing I wanted more than a hot shower and a slice of Landa's pie.

Someone should tell Gretchen that demands and threats had never been an effective method of wooing someone. Her attitude was insulting and off-putting. Each communication from her reaffirmed my parents' theory that clans were bad news. Even if I'd been looking for a clan, one that was this difficult before our first interaction would be at the bottom of my list. At this point, I'd settle for being left alone, but if this communication was any indication, the clans had no intention of letting me be.

There had to be a way to get off their radar. Maybe if I could make myself undesirable to the clans, they would leave me alone. They wanted me because of my power, and I couldn't make that go away. But I could develop some undesirable personality traits. It wasn't worth risking my job, so it needed to be something that would bother witches but not police. This was a time when more knowledge of the clans would be a good thing. A rumor that I was part human might deter some of the clans; that is, assuming they believed it since most half-human witches weren't very powerful. The less judgmental clans would be harder to dissuade, but they would probably be more understanding of a politely worded refusal.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I parked in front of the lodge. It was good to be home. Slipping out of the car, I noticed Elron helping a gray-haired fey out of his car. Last time I'd seen Elron, he'd been asleep on my sofa.

I started over to them but was distracted by a glossy Mercedes-Benz rolling down the driveway. As I watched, it backed into a parking spot and three women emerged. They were as immaculate as the car, in crisp blouses, freshly pressed slacks or pencil skirts, and leather flats. As one of the ladies closed her door, I could see a row of pumps in the floorboard. The ladies had come prepared for the gravel road.

They gave the area a cursory look and gathered at the front of the car. One of them said something to the others, and they glanced at me before returning their attention to the woman with the carefully arranged hair and steel-gray skirt. She was older than the others with creases at the corners of her eyes and a hint of dark roots showing at the base of her blond hair. A few words later and the group started over to me with Gray Skirt leading the way.

I stepped back over to my car and deposited my purse inside. This had clan politics written all over it, and I didn't think the purse was going to help me much. After considering the way the letters had been phrased, I walked around my car and met the group in the middle of the gravel parking lot. If this got interesting, I didn't want to injure my car, Elron, or the old man.

Gray Skirt spoke first. "Ms. Oaks, I presume. I am Tammy Smith."

She offered her hand, but I didn't take it. I'd had enough of witches interrupting my day because they wanted something, and there were plenty of ways she could spell me upon physical contact. Being polite wasn't worth the risk.

After a moment, she dropped her hand and cleared her throat. "I'm here to represent the Wapiti."

I suppressed an eye roll.

"Since you have not answered our previous communications, I am here to take you to the minister for an interview."

"No."

"Beg pardon?" She arched a plucked eyebrow.

"You heard me. No, I won't go with you. I have no desire to take an unplanned trip at the whim of a clan that can't be bothered to see if I actually want to join its ranks before it starts bossing me around." That settled it; I was going to try to offend the clans to the point that they didn't want anything to do with me.

"Let's start over."

"Let's not," I said before she could continue.

She flashed a smile that had an uncanny resemblance to a dog baring its teeth. "Then we will continue from here. Your grandmother is a very busy woman who has waited a long time to meet you. If you come with us, the two of you can have a long-overdue reunion and discuss your return to the clan." Tammy gave me another toothy smile as she studied my reaction.

She could try to make this sound like a long-overdue family reunion, but I'd been warned about my grandmother's charming disposition and offended by the rude communication. "That's nice, but I'm busy. If you leave me her number, I'll be sure to give her a call."

"This isn't optional."

"Yes, it is, and I'm choosing to continue my life rather than dropping everything to satisfy the whim of a group of people I've never met." I gave her my own smile, the same one I'd used as a teenager when my mom told me to smile.

"You belong with us. We are your family." She didn't smile this time.

Behind me, the front door to the lodge opened and closed. I hoped Elron and the old man were getting out of the line of fire, but that wouldn't be like Elron, and the crunch of gravel informed me that an additional person was occupying the parking spaces behind me.

Her eyes drifted past me. "Oh, dear. That won't do. We can't be having any interruptions."

I twisted around to see Liam encased in ice on the stairs. A few feet away, Elron and the old man were motionless, trapped by a spell that was glinting purple.

"Let them go!" I yelled.

"As soon as we finish our discussion. Where was I?" Tammy tapped a manicured nail against her lips. "Right. You belong with us, your family."

"You aren't my family. I don't know you. For all I know, you're lying to me about being part of my grandmother's clan." Even if she was telling the truth, the interactions I'd had with the Wapiti left something to be desired.

I could feel a spell settling over me, a mild compulsion that made me want to go with them. My power flared, incinerating the spell and leaving me clearheaded.

"That wasn't nice. I am staying right here." I stamped my foot, and it sank into the ground. With the four witches ready to drag me off to meet my grandmother, I didn't have time to worry about the mud on my shoe.

A witch in black slacks stepped up beside Tammy. "You will come with us. We will take you to your true family and home."

I formed a shield bubble around myself. Tammy and Black Slacks had joined hands, and power was building between them. If I wouldn't go with them, they were planning on taking me.

"I won't go with you."

They mouthed a few words, and I was tugged forward. Leaning back, I kept my feet planted, suddenly grateful that my right foot had sunk into the ground. I slashed my hand through the air and sliced through the spell connecting us.

"No," I shouted. "I will not go with you." The words vibrated through the air, sending a wave of energy at them, much like the concussive force of a bomb.

Tammy and Black Slacks flew through the air and landed limply ten feet behind their fellow witch. I blinked a few times and snapped my jaw shut, hoping it looked like I'd done that intentionally rather than my temper getting the better of me. When my mom found out, she was going to scold me. I hadn't lost control like that since I was a young child. From experience, I knew that I hadn't hurt them. They would be unconscious for a little while but otherwise unharmed. Oh, except for the bruises from landing on gravel.

A witch in a cream pencil skirt looked at the two of them and clucked her tongue. "I guess the elders were right about you. I thought they were exaggerating your powers, that this would be an easy job. Drive out to your home, put you in the car, and drive you back to the clan. Well, easy or hard, you will be coming with us."

"I don't think you understand. I am happy here. This is my home, and I'm not leaving. If you were any sort of family, I would've grown up with you," I snarled.

"That was a dreadful error, which we are attempting to rectify," she said crisply.

"Really? What about my mom?"

"She isn't important in this discussion."

"I think she is. She's my mom." These witches had a hard time understanding the concept of family. It didn't speak well of them, and I was getting a clear picture of why Mom didn't want them in our lives.

"Well, that was… unfortunate. However, we need to focus on you right now." She curved her lips. I think it was supposed to be a polite smile, but she was missing the warmth that would've taken the movement from strange to friendly.

I shoved a puff of wind at her. She swayed but wasn't pushed backward.

"That was cute, but I feel like you didn't hear me. You are coming with us." With those words, she drew me in, the spell on her voice.

Swaying forward, I shifted to start walking to her. My foot refused to move. Confused, I looked down to see that both feet had slipped into the earth and vines were creeping across my shoes and up my ankles. Within seconds, the vines had twisted around my lower legs and up to my knees. Even if I wanted to move, I couldn't. As the spell faded, I was happy to be rooted to the spot. Turns out the earth didn't want me to leave either.

"You're going to have to do better than that," I taunted.

This was a very bad situation. She'd iced Liam. Elron and the old man were paralyzed under some spell, and I didn't have a way out of this. At this rate, she would spell the entire lodge and carry me away before dinner. Right about now, help would be good.

A roar shattered the silence, and the ground trembled. Ty charged around the side of the lodge, head down, teeth snapping between deafening growls. From this angle, the pink-and-purple body didn't look funny. Several tons of angry dinosaur was frightening, even in those colors.

I had the pleasure of watching her eyes bulge and her mouth drop open, but it was short-lived. She pulled out a wand, mouthed a few words, and heavy rope encased his legs and snout. Ty toppled over sideways, making the ground tremble, setting off a car alarm, and sending the witch to her knees.

The vines inching up my thighs kept me upright, and I gave them a grateful pat. Over my shoulder, I could see Elron and the old man. They were still upright too, which was better than the alternative. Liam had fallen, and cracks were spider-webbing across the ice. I didn't know if that was good or bad for him. He'd be better off if he could defrost before permanent harm was done, but if he was cracking along with the ice… Werewolves were as mortal as the rest of us.

Ty's nostrils fluttered and he thrashed, whipping his tail as he tried to escape. A small pine tree separated from its roots after a collision with his tail and fell on top of him. He snorted and lay still.

It hurt to see him bound and scared. Knowing he wasn't truly alive was a small comfort at best. Spells might have brought him to life, but he had a personality and feelings. That made him real to me.

Hearing the lodge door swing open, I twisted around, shouting, "No!" I reached out, trying to deflect the spell, but I missed and a shield bubble swallowed Landa, Mander, Baden, and Julius.

The witch laughed. "Everything here can go back to normal if you get in the car and come with me to meet your grandmother. This doesn't have to get ugly."

"Get ugly? What do you mean get ugly? We passed ugly when y'all cast the first compulsion. This is not how you woo a prospective clan member," I yelled, my temper at its breaking point.

"You misunderstand. We don't need to woo you; we're your clan. We were sent to bring an unruly clan member back home." She smirked.

"As you can see"—I waved my hands in the direction of my legs—"I'm not going anywhere."

"Dagaz." She pointed the wand at my feet, and flames danced through the grass and started eating at the vines encasing my feet. "That won't be an issue for long."

Gravel crunched and a puff of dust blew over the tops of the trees. A car was coming down the driveway, and dollars to donuts it was carrying my parents. Narzel blast it, as if this situation wasn't bad enough, my parents needed to be in the crosshairs too.

The vines around my feet responded by sprouting thick, moist foliage and doubling their size. As lovely as it was that they were willing to see to their own defense, I had a better solution. "Gebo," I said, and water doused the flames.

The two witches I'd knocked out twitched and moaned. In a moment I'd be back to facing all three of them, and I was nearly out of power. My hand curled, as if holding a wand, but there was nothing for it to grab. My substitute wand was in the car. In the future, I'd always carry a wand to greet unfamiliar witches, just in case it went badly and I needed the extra boost to my spells.

"Oh, it looks like we'll be having company. If you come with me now, we can spare them this little scene."

"Thanks, but no thanks." I gathered the last of my power. "Sowil."

The containment spell sprang to life around her. If I could hold her, maybe Dad could help me with the other two. Then we could go about our day, with the minor inconvenience of disposing of three witches. That shouldn't cause too much stress. I'm sure Mom would accept three witches trying to haul me off to meet my grandmother as an average day. And later tonight we would see the elusive flying pig.

She shattered my spell and sparks of light drifted through the air around her. "That was cute."

I could feel her building a spell, but this time I was out of tricks. The friends who'd rushed to my aid in the past were in desperate need of help themselves, my parents were on the way, and I had nothing.

The vines curled over my hips, and a tendril twisted around my right wrist, quickly expanding over the back of my hand. Energy surged out of the ground and into me. It flooded my feet and radiated out of the vines. The runner detached from the main plant and snaked up my arm. In an instant, a warm hum filled my body.

A twister sprang to life beside me. It might have been small, only twelve feet tall, and narrow, but it was strong enough to send my hair dancing in the wind and pull leaves off the vines cradling me.

Her second spell sped toward me. Raising my right hand, I formed a concave shield, reflecting the spell back at her. The runner on my arm glowed when the spells collided. The spell hit her full force, knocking her down and, if the limp way she fell was any indication, out.

I pointed at the twister. "That's enough out of you." It dissolved into a gentle breeze, dropping a pile of dust and leaves.

"Now, for the three of you," I said. The spell was vividly alive in my mind, and I released it upon the three of them. "Go home, tell the clan that I am to be left alone, don't come back, and remember nothing after this moment. Regain enough awareness to travel safely; harm none on your journey back to the clan."

The three partly conscious witches swayed as they got to their feet. They moved in uncoordinated, jerky motion as they hobbled back to their car. Even the spell couldn't make injured bodies move smoothly. They got in the car and started down the driveway without giving any of us a second look. If you were going to force someone to do your will, this was the way to do it. Too bad I felt dirty. Mucking about with their free will was wrong, and under other circumstances I would have found a different solution, but I needed them gone in a hurry. It was the best I could do under the conditions.

My guilt was largely erased when I looked at Ty and the others. Those witches were not good people. With a thought, the bonds holding Ty vanished. I turned my attention to the rest of my friends, but the power started to drain back into the earth. As it trickled away, the strain my body had endured became apparent. One of these days, I would learn not to overreach myself.

"Thank you, and help Elron. Please help Elron and Liam," I whispered as the vines pulled away and the last of the power slipped from me.

Chapter 12: Elron

The moment the unnatural bonds on me faded, I leapt forward. If history was any indication, Michelle wouldn't be standing much longer. She smiled at me, reaching out with a hand decorated in a twist of ivy. Her eyes rolled back, and I caught her as she went limp.

Scooping her up, I cradled her against my chest. There were dirt smudges on her cheek, and thick strands of hair had escaped her braid, but she was still beautiful to me. The pallor of her skin and shadows under her eyes told the story of the how trying the past few weeks had been.

Her strength was stunning. Not her magic, though it was impressive, but her ability to fix problems and be the rock when things were falling to pieces. Michelle was there, steady and ready to conquer the challenge, no matter how large or small. She was my foundation, the one solid thing I could trust.

I rested my forehead against hers, not at all surprised by her chilled skin. "You did well. You kept us safe."

A piece of my heart shifted, finding where it belonged.

A car slid to a stop, distracting me from the feelings I was beginning to understand. A man and woman leapt out and sprinted for us.

"What happened? What's wrong with her?" the man shouted.

Ty made it to his feet, shook himself, and walked over, whining and huffing.

"Michelle?" the woman asked, brows drawn together and tears forming in her eyes.

"Michelle is as well as she can be for the moment, though she would benefit from us moving this discussion inside." Under normal circumstances, I would not have discussed her health, but this woman clearly cared for her, and Ty had not offered any violence.

Overhead, Ty huffed and whistled. If he didn't settle down soon, I would need to have a word with him.

The woman laid a hand on Michelle's head for a moment, then looked at the man. "She's out cold but otherwise unharmed, even if she is drained of energy."

That was enough to reaffirm that I needed to get Michelle inside, and to do that, the bubble of people needed to be dealt with since they were blocking the door. "Sir, ma'am, would you be kind enough to release these people from their constraints? It would benefit them, especially Liam."

The man looked away from Michelle, seeing the rest of the scene for the first time. His frown deepened, and he hurried over to Liam. Kneeling down, he studied the shifter, trailing a finger over the fracturing ice.

"Nancy, come look at this fellow," the man said.

Nancy hurried over and dropped to the ground next to the injured werewolf. She didn't say anything, but her rigid posture wasn't encouraging.

I adjusted my grip on Michelle and gently addressed the man again. "If you can release the rest of the residents from the shield bubble, we can get more help and I can take Michelle inside. I am sure Varro would appreciate being released as well."

"Oh, yes, of course." He turned to the group inside the shield, pulled a wand out of a belt holster, and pointed it at the bubble. Four runes later, the bubble popped open, leaving a group of people standing on the porch and sporting expressions that ranged from grateful to grumpy. He turned to Varro, and after six runes the fey was free too.

I stepped around the frozen werewolf and strode up the steps. Julius and Baden moved back, giving me room. Landa was still standing in my way, eyes pointed in my direction but clearly not seeing me.

She blinked, and her attention focused on me. "Go down the hall past the parlor. A new room has opened up and it's ready for her."

I gave her a curt nod and made my way into the lodge. Either Landa had asked for a room to meet our needs or the lodge had reacted to the situation. Brownie's homes were lively, able to sense and respond to change, though their concept of help could be skewed. If you had several bookshelves, a library room might open up, but in gaining the library you could have a smaller bathroom and living room.

The new room was where Landa said it would be, and the door was open, inviting us inside. The room was windowless, which was a benefit considering the track record Michelle was developing with windows, and had two beds with nightstands on opposite sides of the door and three chairs at the foot of the beds.

I set her on a bed, removed her shoes, and covered her with a blanket. Once she was settled, I examined the hand covered in ivy. The plant had snaked around her fingers and hand, stopping in a thick twist around her wrist.

Curious, I inquired as to why the ivy was clinging to her.

Stay and help, it told me.

When I asked why it needed to do those things, the little plant informed me that it needed to keep her connected. It was also concerned as to what would happen when it left. The remaining energy the earth was lending her would be removed, which could have less than desirable health consequences.

I thanked the ivy and let it stay on her arm. There was a limit to the energy witches could push through their bodies, and Michelle had looked tired even before the witches started making trouble. If the earth felt that Michelle needed additional energy to aid her recovery, I would not argue. Although the earth wanting a lingering connection with her was an interesting development.

As footsteps sounded in the hallway, I tucked her hand under the covers. Seconds later, Baden carried a pale, shivering Liam into the room. I moved out of the way, and Baden laid him on the second bed. Nancy and the man followed them in, and Baden stepped out to give us room.

Liam's eyes fluttered shut, and he continued taking shallow breaths. Picking up a blanket from the foot of the bed, I draped it over him. His lips moved in a silent "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Liam's protective streak was admirable, even if I wished he would be less affectionate toward Michelle.

"How is she?" Nancy asked.

I hesitated. Clearly these two cared for her, but I not know who they were, and given Michelle's trouble with clans, I had more reasons to doubt their good intentions than to believe them kindhearted.

Landa came into the room, glanced at Liam and Michelle, and turned her attention to the rest of us. "Nancy, Greg, I'd like to you meet Elron. Elron, these are Michelle's parents."

"Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you." I held out my hand.

Her father gave me a strong handshake. Her mother's handshake was more of an adherence to social pleasantries.

"It's good to meet you too, or it would be under different circumstances. How is my daughter?" Greg asked.

"The same as before," I answered.

"Now that I've taken care of the immediate issues with our other patient, let me take a closer look at Michelle," Nancy said.

I moved back, giving her enough room to work, but not so much that I was out of reach. If she needed me, I would be there, able to help rather than stuck in a witch's spell.

Landa spoke up. "Liam, try to rest. I've called the pack, and a couple of them are headed over. Elron, I'm tending to your guest for the time being, but he seems uncomfortable."

"It would be best if I spoke with him." Whilst I felt that my place was at Michelle's side, Varro was my responsibility. As I followed Landa out of the room, I eyed the resting werewolf. His eyes were closed, but that didn't mean he was sleeping, and his affection for Michelle had been apparent, if innocent, thus far. Given his recent encounter with ice, it was doubtful that he was even energetic enough to make trouble.

In the parlor, Mander, Baden, and Julius were sitting on the sofa drinking tea whilst Varro stood stiffly by the window. His knapsack was on the ground by his feet, which was too close to his hands for my comfort. It would be frustrating if he took off before Michelle had a chance to speak with him. It would also be difficult to make use of the demon's bane without him. Not only was it in his possession, but he had expressed a knowledge of its preparation and use.

"Varro," I said as I approached, not wanting to startle him. "My deepest apologies for neglecting you."

He shrugged. "'Twas necessary. The world is different than before. 'Twill take time for me to be at ease."

"Would you prefer to be alone?"

"Nay." He turned to me, his jaw clenched, shoulders perfectly square. "This place is strange to me, full of things I do not understand."

"Ah." I had been in a similar position a few years ago. Oh, it had not been as extreme for me. Even in my deepest despair, I had been lured into the human cities every few years. "Pardon me for a moment."

Varro nodded.

Approaching Mander, I asked, "May I speak to you?"

He nodded and walked with me to the door of the parlor. Varro had returned his attention to the window. Outside, I could see Ty scratching himself against an old white pine tree. The tree was swaying and peppering the ground with pinecones.

"Varro is not accustomed to being in the modern world. Would you be willing to show him around, answer his questions, and help him with the adjustment? I would like to be with Michelle until she recovers, and I cannot do both." I also had a feeling that Varro would be more comfortable learning from a man who was not his student.

"How unaccustomed to this era?"

"It is hard to say, but his last memory of cities was prior to the lightbulb. His speech is accented, and I doubt the version of English he is speaking is his first language. Thus far he has been polite and calm." It would not do for me to give Mander false impressions, but I suspected Varro was significantly older than myself. If that was true, another extraordinarily long-lived male would make him feel the most comfortable.

"Won't be a problem. He is hardly the first we have seen come out of the woods." Mander snapped his fingers, and a wooden cup filled with water appeared in his hand. "Introduce us."

"Thank you," I said.

Varro turned away from the window when we approached.

"Varro, this is Mander. He runs the lodge with Landa. Mander, this is Varro."

"A pleasure," Varro said.

"Indeed. Would you care for some water?" Mander held out the cup.

Varro accepted the drink, took a sip, held the wooden cup in his hands. His posture relaxed, and he took a deep breath for the first time since I entered the parlor. "Many thanks."

Mander nodded.

"Varro, would you be comfortable if I left you in Mander's capable hands? I shall return before long."

Varro nodded, and I retreated. Varro might be knowledgeable about demons, but Michelle was going to have a hard time understanding his speech. It was giving me trouble, and I knew that version of English, or at least I had at one point. Perhaps when Michelle was feeling better I could talk her into doing a spell to smooth out the communication.

I walked into Michelle's new room to see Nancy leaning over Liam. There was a tingle of magic in the air, and Liam's face went from pinched to relaxed. One of Michelle's stories came back to me, and I remembered that her mother specialized in healing. It wasn't the most common field for witches since few clans approved of their members working outside the clan business.

Nancy pulled back, and the hum of magic faded from the air. "That's all I can do for now. You need to rest and drink warm fluids." She pushed a cup of tea into his hand, steadying him as he leaned forward to take a sip. "Give it a few hours, maybe a day, and you'll be back to your normal tricks."

"Thank you," Liam rasped.

"You're welcome," Nancy said as she stepped over to Michelle. She rested a hand on her daughter's forehead, frowning. "No change since the last time I checked on her."

"How is she?" I asked.

"Exhausted, but that isn't surprising. She had an exciting morning before this and had already used most of her power." Greg moved the blankets to expose her hand along with the vine that was clinging to it. "Would you know anything about this?"

"Only that it happened during the fight." I eyed the plant, which had sprouted more leaves.

"What fight? Does it have anything to do with the witches who were leaving when we pulled in?" Nancy asked.

I nodded.

"Why won't it come off?" Greg asked.

"It wants to stay with her. The forest lent her energy. When she returned it, she lost consciousness. The ivy is keeping her connected to nature and feeding her a small quantity of power."

The raised eyebrows and wide eyes clearly said that the story sounded as implausible to them as it did to me.

"Why would the forest lend her power?" Greg asked.

"It likes her." I shrugged. "She has an uncanny effect on plants; they become unnaturally lively around her. In all my years, I have never seen such opinionated greenery."

"What?" Nancy croaked.

"The plants around her altar are giddy and joyful when she is outside. The forest reached across many miles to save her from the trolls. A small cut flower I gave her grew to the size of a dinner plate and sent runners around her bathroom. Plants behave strangely around Michelle."

From the look on their faces, this was new information to them.

Landa appeared in the door, saving me from further questions. "Nancy, Greg, why don't you have some tea? Elron will keep an eye on Michelle, and I will tell you about the witches."

"All right," Nancy murmured. "But when she wakes up, she has some explaining to do. After the message she sent us this morning…" Her voice trailed off as Greg ushered her out the door.

I perched on the edge of Michelle's bed and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. She shifted, resting against my hand. We stayed like that as my warmth slowly soaked into her cool skin. Tears welled up in my eyes, dripped down my face, and darkened the blanket where they landed.

"You must be strong. I need you." I bit my lip as my innermost thoughts escaped into the world. I had intended to say that we needed her to be strong, because we knew how to kill the demon and needed her skills.

"You love her," Liam rasped.

I brushed the moisture from my eyes as I turned to face him. I had forgotten his presence. Of all the people to see me cry over her bed, it had to be the man who had more than casual affection for Michelle. "Why do you say that?"

"I can see it, on your face and in your body."

"My feelings are not your concern." I looked down at the werewolf. Before my eyes, I could see patches of frostbite shrinking, the damage done to his body rapidly reversing.

It had not escaped my notice that Liam had come to help Michelle on several occasions. In my experience, men had one reason for consistently helping a woman who was not related to them.

Liam sighed. "I'm not your rival."

I continued to glare at him. "Your actions speak differently."

He grimaced as he shifted positions. "I have been more, hmm, affectionate than a friend, but it was without intent. Don't misunderstand me, I admire and care for her, but it will never go past friendship. She isn't meant to be mine. I want a girl who will howl at the moon, enjoy a good hunt, and give me puppies. Michelle is a fantastic woman, but we couldn't have those things."

"Puppies?"

A smile broke through his pain. "I can't have kids with Michelle, and I want my kids to be werewolves, just like me. I've got my eye on this girl, but until the pack is stable and things settle down, she won't move here." His eyes lit up when he spoke of his girl, and his voice shifted from reverence to excitement.

"Why have you been helping her?" I nodded toward Michelle.

"I like her, and I made a deal with Simon to take over the pack. When Adder went off the rails, I had to appeal to the werewolf council to take over a hostile pack. Adder attacking a witch and an elf changed things. I could intervene and deal with the council later, so I did. I'm not staying here to be close to Michelle. The pack is sorting things out, and I need some space from a bunch of people who can't decide if I'm their savior or a new dictator."

"Did you plan on killing Adder?" If he had used Michelle's rescue mission as an excuse to rid the world of a piece of scum, it threw his actions in a different light, one that put us on the same side rather than opposing each other.

"Yes, and if you'd heard what he did to some of the women in the pack, you would've done the same. Helping Michelle and Amber was somewhere between an excuse and a side benefit."

"Ah, well, your aid was much appreciated. You have my thanks."

He studied me. "You don't look happy."

My fingers brushed the ivy curled around her hand. Swallowing hard, I kept my tears from falling. "I do not think she will be mine."

Liam watched me, his eyes seeing things I would have preferred to keep hidden.

"I love her. I feel something with her that I have not felt before." I took a deep breath. "But I'm married." When he scowled, I said, "Do not judge me yet. There is more to the story, and I suspect you will hear the rest before the day is done."

Liam's jaw was clenched, but he still managed a civil tone. "I look forward to the explanation. And if you play with her heart, I will hunt you down."

"If I hurt her, I will spare you the effort of a hunt." How could I avoid hurting her? Our dates had been exciting, tingling with the thrill of a new relationship. Had we been focused on building a friendship, perhaps things would have been different, but moving from a romantic relationship to a platonic one was hardly simple. Deep down, I wanted romance with Michelle, but that could not come to pass as long as I had a commitment to Sylvia.

"Good." Liam closed his eyes, and his breathing deepened as he drifted off.

I sat in silence, trying not to think as I waited for Michelle to awaken. Thinking was not helpful today, as every topic that came to mind was as painful as the last. I managed to still my thoughts and watched her for signs of distress. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Elron? Are you okay? Where am I?" Michelle looked up at me with big eyes.

"You are awake." I took her hand, thrilled to feel her fingers gripping mine. "I am in perfect health. You are in a new room in the lodge. Landa was unclear on the origin of the room. She might have created it, or the lodge made the room to fulfill your need."

"Of course." She rolled her eyes. "That's exactly the answer I was looking for."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've been run over by a concrete truck." She tugged the blanket over her shoulders. "I'm cold."

"Allow me." I draped a second blanket over her.

Michelle relaxed under the second blanket. "Are the witches gone? Is everyone okay? What happened to Liam?"

"Shhh, calm down. That is a good girl; take a few deep breaths."

She glared but did it anyway.

"Look to your left." I leaned back so she could get a good look at Liam.

"He's alive."

"Yes, and given a few hours will make a complete recovery."

"Oh good. I was worried when I saw him in the ice. How is everyone else?"

"They are well. Would you feel comfortable being alone for a moment?"

Michelle nodded. "I might fall asleep, but I'll be fine."

"I will return in a moment." I planted a kiss on the back of her hand. "I was worried about you."

I slipped my hand out of hers, ignoring her surprised look, and left the room. All eyes turned to me when I entered the parlor. Before they could question my presence, I volunteered information. "Michelle is awake."

Chapter 13: Michelle

"Welcome back," Liam whispered.

"Are you okay? How did you get defrosted?" Thanks to the blankets, I could see little more than his pink face and sunken eyes. Liam had seen better days.

"Your father broke the ice spell, and your mother examined me and healed a few spots of frostbite. Your mother said I would be fine, but until then I felt dreadful." He spoke slowly, with a roughness that was unlike his normal voice.

"Oh, good, my parents made it." The implications of their arrival sank in before I could enjoy the good news. They knew about the run-in with the witches and had been at the lodge long enough for Landa to tell them about the letters. I wasn't getting out of that scolding. They wouldn't be happy that I had failed to mention communication from the clans.

I didn't have any more time to ponder the issues. A flurry of feet sounded outside, and a herd of people shoved themselves into the little room. Julius was left looking in from the hall, but that could've been intentional. With his wings and horns, it would be easy for him to bump into someone.

"Thank goodness you're awake." Mom rested a hand against my forehead, and I felt her power flow over me. She pulled back without doing any healing. "Better."

If this was better, I didn't want to know how I would've felt earlier. Every part of me was heavy, limp, and radiating a dull ache. When I went to scratch my nose, it felt like I had a twenty-pound weight strapped to my arm. My hand came into view, and I forgot about the itchy spot on my nose. My right hand and wrist were covered in ivy. It was curled around my fingers, then trailed down the palm, over the back of my hand, and across my wrist.

"What's on my hand?" I asked.

No one spoke.

Tearing my eyes away from the greenery clinging to my skin, I focused on the group of people next to my bed. Mom and Dad had worried expressions. Elron was shooting looks between my parents and myself, and the rest of the horde was standing around with a mix of worry, confusion, and curiosity.

"Anyone?" My voice rose with my frustration level. "I could really use some input on this issue. Before I passed out, there were vines up to my hips and a small piece had worked around my hand, but seeing as how the rest of me is free of the greenery, it's a little puzzling to find my hand engulfed."

Elron shot an exasperated look at my parents before speaking. "The ivy is maintaining a connection to the earth and facilitating a transfer of energy to assist your recovery."

I gave my hand and wrist a detailed examination, feeling better since it didn't sound like I was mutating into a plant creature. "Did it tell you how long it intended to stay?"

He shook his head.

"May I examine it?" The voice came from outside the room, and the old man from the parking lot crept around Julius.

Now that I had gotten a better look at him, old man was a misnomer. With gently pointed ears and caramel skin, he was clearly a fey. The gray hair had thrown me off from a distance. I'd never seen a fey who looked old before. Not only had the color faded from his hair, but his skin had a slackness that came from age.

Elron's brow furrowed, and he turned his attention away from me. I was too busy trying not to demand an answer as to why we had a fey who looked like he'd stepped out of feudal Europe in the room to worry about Elron's confusion.

"Go for it." I held out my hand.

Mom and Dad stepped closer to Liam's bed. He cocked an eyebrow at their backsides and scooted closer to the wall.

The fey took my hand in his, twisting and turning it as his fingers traced the ivy. "I am Varro."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Michelle."

For all that Varro's attention seemed to be directed at the plant life clinging to me, I had a feeling that wasn't his primary focus. Varro let go of my hand, and I tucked it back under the blanket. He moved back to the door, and Mom perched on the bed next to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. She was trying to be comforting, but I was confused. My parents hadn't asked about the witches, Elron was acting oddly, and then there was Varro.

"Well?" Dad prompted.

"Elron is correct, and the ivy will not harm her," Varro answered.

"How long is it going to stay on my hand?"

Varro shrugged.

"I do not know." Elron shook his head. "Now that we have established that the ivy will not hurt Michelle, I would like to know when you learned modern English."

There was a long pause, and I couldn't decide if everyone thought Elron was unbearably rude for asking that question or if they were reflecting on the changes in Varro's language. Since this was my first conversation with him, I relaxed into the pillows and watched.

Dad cleared his throat. "That would be my doing."

"Ye can't have all the credit. I was in on it too," Mander said from the foot of my bed where he stood next to Landa.

"Yes, it was a joint effort. Mander and Varro were speaking in old English when I heard Mander throw in a few modern words that do not have an equivalent. I offered to do a language spell, and both of them agreed. It was only possible because Mander is fluent in both languages." Dad shrugged.

That was a spell I needed to learn. There were a few spells that accelerated the process of learning a language, but this was the first one I'd heard of that would transfer the knowledge from one individual to another. I doubted most people could use the language as readily as Varro was doing, but from the sound of things, he'd had a basic understanding of early modern English, which would make it easier for him to use current vernacular.

"And I thank you." Varro dipped his head in Dad's direction.

Dad blushed. "It was nothing."

"Ah, well, that will make things easier," Elron muttered.

I ignored his cryptic remark. He'd explain it to me later. Yawning, I debated if I could get in a nap before we had to talk about the disasters that had plagued today. Gremory's threats drifted through my mind, and I knew the strange way the gremlins had spoken would make its way into my dreams. Talk first and then risk creepy dreams. "We need to talk about this morning."

"Do you feel well enough to move to the parlor?" Mom asked.

"What do you think, Liam, are you up for a change in scenery?" I asked. He needed to hear this too since Gremory had used his pack and might make another play for them.

"Yes, but I'll need help walking," Liam said.

"Let's move this party to the parlor." I tossed the blanket to the side, scooted to the edge, and was working up the energy to sit up when Elron plucked me off the bed.

"You are in no condition to be walking." He held me against his chest, and I relaxed as his warmth seeped into my side.

"Thank you," I said, resting my head against his shoulder.

He followed my parents out of the room. Landa slipped around us as two teapots floated out of the parlor and followed her to the kitchen. Behind us Liam swayed, leaning heavily on Baden. Next time I saw that witch, I was going to make her pay for hurting him. It was one thing for her to attack me—I was the wayward witch they were bringing back into the fold—but going after my friends was a different matter entirely.

It wasn't long ago that I would've backed away from a fight, determined to find a different way to solve my problems, but the past month had changed me. Some people, like Adder, Gremory, and the clans, only understood force. It wasn't a matter of explaining the laws or giving them a chance to mend their ways. Given the opportunity, they would take what they wanted, and it was just too bad for whoever got in their way.

Maybe this was a lesson everyone else had learned long ago, but growing up, I never had a reason to think I would be the person holding the line, keeping innocents safe from bad people who did bad things. When I set up my business, it had been with the intention of wrangling rogue magical items, but before I knew it, I was looking at a sorceress.

Looking back, there were plenty of moments where I could've made different choices, told the police that something was outside the scope of our contract or my abilities. But at each of those crossroads, I'd stepped up to the plate and done my best because I liked challenges. Then it wasn't a challenge, but a need, a burning desire to protect and defend. Those children had changed the last reluctant parts of me into a person who was willing to be in harm's way if it kept one more child alive. Gremory had struck at our core, and it was my turn to strike back.

Elron set me on the love seat before taking the chair next to me. Mom hurried to cover me with blankets, fussing over how each one was arranged. Baden lowered Liam to the sofa, and Mom turned her attention to him. She checked his fingers and toes, set a warming spell on two blankets, and tucked them around him.

Dad gave Elron a hard look as he and Mom took the seats near my feet. The rest of the group had each found a spot, with Varro sticking close to Julius, Baden off to the side, and Mander in a wingback chair. The two teapots floated in and lowered themselves to the tea service.

Landa followed them, holding a cup of tea. She handed it to me and patted my arm. Thank goodness she hadn't tried to float it to me; stiff and achy arms wouldn't make catching a floating cup any easier. Landa refilled everyone else's drinks, and for a few minutes teacups and softly spoken requests and filled the air.

Landa sat back, took a sip of her brew, and said, "I don't know where to begin. Should we get the story of Elron's guest or Michelle's exciting day?"

Rather than answer, I took a sip of my tea, enjoying the warmth and soft flavor of jasmine. Elron didn't say a word, and I gave him the now-you-keep-quiet look.

"I guess I should start," I said to draw attention away from him. If history was any indication, the story behind Varro related to Sylvia, and perhaps to the demon. There were plenty of reasons Elron wouldn't be eager to bring up those topics.

"Remember, we are in problem-solving mode." I looked at my parents. "All of these events have already happened, so there's no point in rehashing them." Most of the room nodded, and I launched into my explanation of the morning's adventure. For the most part, I kept to the truth. The diary was completely eliminated and rephrased as a meeting with Detective Wells, but that was the only major change.

For once, I was able to finish a story without any interruptions. Maybe being attacked by witches had upped the level of what was unbelievable and question worthy. Even though they didn't break into my story, my parents shot me enough upset, worried, and frustrated looks that I knew this topic was far from over in their minds. We would be revisiting it once we were alone.

"Julius, Horst specifically requested that I inform you of these events. Any questions before I move to explaining the incident with the witches?" I asked.

Julius didn't say anything, but Baden jumped at the opportunity. "How do you know a demon is behind this? Sure, there are stories about them, but I don't know anyone who's actually seen a demon."

Varro stiffened. "Demons are as real as you or I, and it would not be out of character for them to gather large groups of gremlins around themselves."

Elron tensed, his eyes fixed on Varro's hands. I gave Varro a closer look. He was unarmed, though I'd never met a fey who needed a weapon to kill someone, and his left hand was in a loose fist. Given what I'd seen Elron do, it wouldn't surprise me to see a knife appear in Varro's hand. Baden nodded and clamped his jaw shut. I wouldn't have argued with Varro either—he had an I-have-seen-these-things air about him.

Julius filled the silence before it could become oppressive. "This fixation Gremory has with you is perturbing. You mentioned having disrupted parts of his plan, but this appears to be personal in nature. While it's logical for him to apply pressure by attacking the people you hold dear, it doesn't represent the actions of an individual trying to pass unnoticed."

Dad nodded. "Striking at us does make sense from that direction, but I question how Gremory is gaining his information. I've only recently become involved in Michelle's life, making any reference that includes me somewhat suspect. We haven't been out in public together, and only a few individuals know of our connection."

"You weren't mentioned by name. The gremlins said 'your family'—it could have been misdirection," I answered.

"Are you sure the gremlins are dead?" Mom asked.

"Ask Julius. I didn't do that trick."

"They are truly stone. I don't know of anyone who has managed to reverse the effects of that magic," Julius said.

"Let's hear about the witches. I only have so much attention left, and that won't be a short story," Liam requested.

"Is everyone okay with moving on?" I asked.

"Yes. It will take time for us to contemplate the implications of the gremlin's attack, and we can discuss it again at a later point," Elron said.

I nodded. "Then on to the witches. Mom, Dad, I'm sorry I didn't mention some of this before. I thought I knew what you would say, and I didn't want to bring it up. In retrospect, I should've spoken to you." They nodded and I jumped into the meat of the explanation, starting with the letters and ending with the scuffle that had turned Liam into an ice sculpture. Before long, Mom had a white-knuckled grip on Dad's hand, and his frown was etching deep lines around his mouth.

"I hope you understand our concerns better now. This is a very real example of why we wanted you to go unnoticed. This is still a manageable situation, but you must be careful. That was a near thing, and without the generosity of the forest, the outcome could have been less than pleasant." Dad frowned at me.

"I know and I'm sorry, but I really thought the letters and voice bubbles would be the extent of their actions. How was I supposed to know that they would send a group to kidnap me?" Sure, Cage had warned me that they could be overbearing and invasive, but none of his cautionary tales had included a felony offense.

My attention stayed on Mom; she had spots of color growing on her cheeks, and if past experience told me anything, she would be erupting shortly.

"Child, today you proved what a valuable asset you would be for a clan. Those were skilled witches, and due to their lack of memory, the story of your abilities is likely to grow. This has only increased your value in their eyes," Landa added.

Nodding, I tried to figure out what to say to reduce tension in the room. Mom shifted forward in her seat, and I knew I was in for it.

"Michelle, we told you to tell us if you had communication from a clan just to help prevent situations like this. You need to tell us these things. The Wapiti's involvement changes everything." Mom's voice had risen an octave by the end.

"Nancy, take a few deep breaths," Dad said, running his fingers up and down her arm.

"How can you tell me to calm down? This is what we were trying to avoid."

"And we knew some time ago that avoiding the Wapiti wouldn't work much longer."

"What? Were the Wapiti your clan?"

Mom nodded, and color slowly returned to her cheeks. Dad was frowning as he rubbed her arm.

"You were right. They're mean, and it was better when they didn't know I existed." Sometimes parents are frustrating, know-it-all bullies, and other times they're right. "I still think we could've avoided a lot of this mess if you'd told me why I needed to keep a low profile, but that ship sailed away and sank a long time ago. How do we get the Wapiti to go away?"

Mom spoke quietly. "I don't know that we can. If they are coming after you like this, they know you're my daughter. My mother won't stop until she gets what she wants. You got some of that attitude."

"So, I should expect more of what happened today?" It was going to be difficult to do my job if I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the big bad witch. Somehow, I didn't think the police would appreciate getting caught in a duel, and their tolerance would be even lower if we destroyed a crime scene.

Mom bit her lip and shrugged.

"Great," I groaned. Family was the only thing that could make a child-killing demon look tame and easy to manage. "What, exactly, do they want from me?"

Mom rolled her eyes and answered. "My mother wants you because she is a foolish, bloodline-obsessed woman. In the Wapiti, the position of minister can be passed to a female family member without a democratic process. I didn't want to be minister and didn't have the power to meet her standards, so she's got her sights set on you. Without one of us, the ministry will pass out of the family."

"Oh." That explained the tone of her communications and her obsession. Even if Grandmother got her hands on me, she would be disappointed. I didn't want to be governor of a community of witches.

Dad gave me a weary smile. "A few things are working in your favor. They want you to join the clan, and you can't do that if you've been injured, so physically you're safe enough. They won't act in public view either. When you are in a group, near the police, or in town, you should be safe. Your grandmother wants you, but she doesn't want to draw any attention to her actions. What's she's trying to do to you is illegal."

"Ok, so I'll be safe at work, and not even close to safe at home. Perfect." It would be a delightful change to get real, no-strings-attached good news.

"Full memories or not, when they make another attempt, they will be sure to guard against what they think happened today. Sheer numbers will win the day for them at some point." Mom's voice wavered. "I don't know how to protect you."

I looked at Mom and spoke the truth, knowing it would hurt her. "You can't protect me. Not you, Dad, Elron, Ty, or anyone else can keep me safe from these threats. If the Wapiti are going to be this way, they will send enough witches to counter anything we can bring to the table, or they will wait for the moment when my guard is down and take me then.

"If the clans don't get me, the demon is going to give it his best shot. There's nothing you can do about that either. The best thing you can do is stay safe so I can deal with him, because I will. I will find a way to rid us of that evil."

"It's not your fight, Michelle. That's a job for people with experience in those matters." Mom was pleading with me now.

Swallowing tears, I finished saying things she never wanted to hear. "You made it my fight when you asked me to look into the suicides. I looked at the bodies of children and found them contaminated with his energy. If that didn't make it my fight, Gremory would've brought the fight to me. The trolls and sorceress were part of his plan, as was an animal breeder, and Adder, all of whom I've helped bring to justice. Tell me, how was I going to escape this fight?" We both knew she didn't have an answer. There wasn't one that would bring her peace of mind, and I wouldn't lie to make her feel better this time.

She walked out of the room, tears running down her face. Dad glared at me as he hurried after her.

"Why did you do that, Michelle?" Landa scolded.

I rubbed moisture away from my eyes. "Don't. I know what I did, and you should know why I did it."

"That was cruel," Landa countered.

"I couldn't lie to her."

Baden cleared his throat. "This was enlightening, but I need to be going. Thank you for the tea. Be careful, Michelle. Liam, let me know if you need help." He scurried out of the room with more haste than was needed.

Landa waited for his footsteps to fade down the hall before resuming her guilt trip. "You hurt her."

"Yes, but do you remember what you told me?" She didn't answer. "You told me I was strong, smart, and could solve impossible situations."

"That isn't an excuse to lash out at your mother."

"Would it be better to hide the truth from her? I'm at the center of two difficult situations."

"Hurting her won't help with either problem. She is your mother and deserves better, child."

"I can't do this anymore. She wants to swaddle me in Bubble Wrap and pack me away where I can't be hurt. That's not reality. The clans know I'm here. It's time to deal with them head-on. Even if they weren't an issue, Gremory has taken my interference in his plans personally. That's a fact at this point."

She didn't look any closer to relenting.

"Look, when the sorceress died, and I'm assuming he killed her, there were threats written on the wall of her cell in blood that were directed at me. One of those threats ended up painted on my window. A really big spider got into my apartment and started spinning a web that spelled out a death threat. The ghoul was after me. The gremlins threatened my friends, my family, and myself. The only time I wasn't the target was at Adder's house when Sylvia aimed a death spell at Elron."

"What?" Dad's voice echoed from the door.

Twisting around, I found my parents standing there, giving me a look I hadn't seen since I was a teenager. "Narzel blast it. Maybe I left a few other things out."

Liam broke in, saving me from what looked to be a fierce scolding. "Cut her some slack. This is what kids do—they leave the nest, find their own way, get into trouble, and only tell their parents a fraction of their mischief."

"The voice of parental experience?" Dad sucked in enough air to go on a tirade, but he never got the chance.

Liam came up on his elbows to get a better look at the room. "No, I've been that kid. We may not have faced the same challenges or the same potential consequences for failure, but it wasn't easy to leave my father's pack. Neither of my parents were happy, even though we all knew it was the only way for me to be an alpha without competing with my father. I still haven't told them that I took over a pack that had been used by a demon, one where the previous alpha was known for brutalizing everyone weaker than himself. There are more than a few youthful adventures I've done my best to keep from them. If werewolves weren't sturdy creatures, I wouldn't be here today."

"How does that help us?" Mom demanded.

Liam sagged back into the sofa. "It doesn't, but it does tell you that you're not alone. This is her chance to be an adult. Don't clip her wings."

My parents reclaimed their seats without a word. Mom chewed on her lip, and Dad studied Liam more closely than I liked.

Finally, Elron disrupted the heavy silence. "I know why Gremory tried to kill me."

"You do?" I asked.

He nodded. "The logic is strange, but yes. Do you think it was Gremory or Sylvia who tried to kill me?"

"Gremory wearing Sylvia's body, but Sylvia dropped the book. When the flames are in her eyes, Gremory is in control or trying to be in control," I answered.

"I had not noticed the eyes."

Shrugging, I didn't offer an explanation. This wasn't the time to go into the dreams I'd shared with Sylvia and the time they'd given me to study her behavior.

Elron shrugged. "Gremory knows or suspects that I have a Call. From the demon's perspective, an elf with a Calling is there to stop him and help Sylvia. Neither option is in his favor. If those thoughts did not occur to him, another would cross his mind: my understanding is that demons cannot reproduce or be created at this point, which makes the demon old enough to remember the Hunters. Any elf with a Call would be drawn to seek out any remaining Hunters and their knowledge. Killing me was the easiest way to prevent access to that knowledge."

"Why would the demon think Hunters, or their knowledge, still exist?" Mom asked. "Both have been absent from the world long enough to pass into myth."

"In the stories, the Hunters disband because they killed all the demons. The logic is missing. How would they know they had killed every demon? By nature, demons excel at hiding and deception," Elron said.

I picked up where he left off. "If you think about it, it's more likely the Hunters stopped looking for demons in hope that any remaining ones would draw attention to themselves. That doesn't explain how they would still be around. If I was a demon, I'd hunt down the Hunters and destroy all their knowledge. Do the Hunters still exist?"

"I believe so," Elron answered, eyes fixed on a lamp behind Liam.

Landa flicked her fingers, and the parlor doors shut and locked. "If we are going to speak of such things, it should be done in privacy."

"May I?" Dad inquired.

Landa nodded, and I felt a spell wash over the walls, blocking any sound from escaping the room.

"Thank you," Elron said.

Julius stretched his wings, casting dark shadows across the room. "Perhaps it is my turn to contribute to the conversation. Gargoyles worked closely with the Hunters; after all, we were created to fight evil, and demons are the greatest evil among us. When the Hunters disbanded, we returned to our homes and continued to battle the lesser evils of the world. The secret to killing a demon went with the Hunters, though, and is presumed lost, just as the Hunters are presumed dead."

"You think some of the Hunters are still alive?" Liam asked.

"It is possible that they walk among us, but identifying one would be difficult. Even if you could find a Hunter, you would have to get that person to admit to being part of a group that's existence depended on secrecy. They were careful and didn't mark themselves with a tattoo, brand, or scar," Julius finished.

"How would you identify one?" I asked.

"Like recognizes like." Julius looked at Varro.

Well, that didn't help me. I needed to find a demon hunter to tell me how to kill a demon, but unless I had whatever they look for in a fellow Hunter, I wouldn't be able to find them. Good news would be a refreshing change. A map with a Hunter at the end would be a nice.

When the silence had stretched on longer than was comfortable, I spoke. "Could someone fill me in on what happened after I passed out?"

Elron answered. "Absolutely. I caught you as you passed out, and seconds later your parents arrived." He covered everything from the moment he held me in his arms until I rejoined the land of the conscious.

"Thank you. That does clarify a few things," I said when he finished.

"You are most welcome."

Landa cleared her throat. "If we're finished with the current conversation, I need to prepare dinner. Nancy, Greg, I have a room for you if you would like to stay here for a few days." They exchanged a look and nodded. "Varro, I don't know what plans Elron has for your lodging. I have a room you could use."

"Thank you, Landa, but I would like Varro to stay with me if he is comfortable in my apartment," Elron said.

Varro dipped his head. "That would probably be best."

Landa smiled. "Let me know if you need anything. Barring any significant interruptions, dinner will be ready in about an hour. Greg?"

"Oh, yes." The spell on the room dissipated and the doors opened.

"Thank you." Landa hurried out of the parlor with Mander at her heels.

Mom looked at me and patted my foot. "How are you feeling?"

"Um, I'm good, considering what happened."

"Your color is better. If you don't need anything, we're going to get settled into a room. Greg and I have a few things to discuss. We'll catch up with you later tonight."

"I'm fine, Mom." I tried to give her an encouraging smile, but when she frowned, I figured I'd missed the mark. She patted my foot one more time, took Dad's hand, and left the parlor.

Julius exchanged a few words with Varro. Their voices were soft enough that I couldn't follow the conversation, but from the look on Elron's face I doubted they were speaking English anyway. On his way out, Julius nodded at me. I returned the gesture and had a feeling we weren't finished talking. Horst hadn't wanted me to mention the gremlins to Julius just to pass information.

The ivy encasing my hand and wrist was still firmly attached, with green leaves covering the vines. It wasn't showing any signs of wilting or yellowing. However, a sickly-looking plant being grafted to my skin might be more disturbing than a healthy one. I poked it a few times before giving up. It would come off when it wanted and not a moment sooner. If I were lucky, the plant and I could go our separate ways before I was called out on a case.

"Michelle?"

I stopped studying the ivy and gave Elron my attention. "Yes?"

"Would you like help getting to your apartment?"

"Please. I don't think I'll be steady on my feet."

"It would be my pleasure to assist you." He picked me up again, and I settled against him. "Varro, could you come with us?"

Elron carried me down the hall, and Varro trailed along behind us. With the excitement of the witch's attack and my lengthy explanation of my day, Elron had gotten away without discussing Varro's story. From this direction, I could see the microexpressions cross Varro's face. If the conversation about his linguistic leanings was any indication, Varro had managed to miss many of the advances of the past several hundred years. The rough weave and simple cut of his clothing spoke of a level of isolation that was uncommon in today's world. Varro was a mystery I was looking forward to solving.

Chapter 14: Michelle

Dinner was a quiet affair, and even without Elron and Varro, it was a crowd. The little conversation that did happen was forced, but Dad did tell me he'd been unable to find any references to demons in his book. I escaped to my apartment as quickly as possible. Even if the conversation had been fun, I wouldn't have wanted to stay. My right hand was still covered in ivy, and I struggled through dinner using my left hand. Dropping food was better than having everyone focus on my newly acquired greenery.

I looked tired enough that no one questioned my desire to get some sleep. The events in Ellijay had been tiring. With the addition of the witches and the endless discussions, I was done. As frustrating as it was, I knew tomorrow would contain even more conversations.

My parents and I had spoken long enough to clear the air and clarify a few points. Mom didn't recognize any of the witches who'd shown up today, but given the time she'd been away from the clan, that wasn't surprising. The primary concern at this point was how far my grandmother was willing to go to bring me back into the clan. Mom's view was that if Grandmother was already launching this type of a retrieval effort, the sky was the limit as long as she got me.

On the bright side, my parents had gotten much freer with information now that the cat was out of the bag. They'd even retold the story of Mom's escape and their decision to live apart without being shady with the information. The story didn't change much, but I had fewer questions, and having seen Mom's clan in action, I didn't question their paranoia. In this case, someone really had been out to get them.

Elron wanted to speak with me in the morning, and my guess was that it had something to do with Varro. That was one mystery I was looking forward to solving because I suspected there would be a silver lining. Elron wouldn't show up with a guest when his wife had returned from the dead, a demon was causing trouble, and the clans were after me without good reason.

Back in my apartment, I tucked myself into bed. After a day like this, I needed my sleep. I was still low on energy and sore from head to toe. The night passed in a blink of an eye, and I woke up feeling better than I'd expected and ready to face the day as long as it didn't include anyone trying to kill me.

There was a knock at the door as soon as I walked into the kitchen to start breakfast. I opened the door to find Elron on the other side. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"We need to talk."

"It's two hours before we agreed to meet. I haven't even had breakfast."

"I brought food and tea." He motioned to a cart sitting in the hall.

"Well, in that case…" I stepped back from the door, and Elron rolled the cart in. Varro stepped into the doorway and paused before following Elron.

"I brought him along. He is part of this conversation." Elron waved him inside.

"Fine by me." I closed the door behind Varro, who stood stiffly by the kitchen counter as Elron and I set the table. Elron had done his usual impeccable job selecting food, and in minutes we were sitting down to eat.

Varro ate slowly, his eyes darting between the two of us and his plate. It wasn't until Elron abandoned his cutlery to eat a muffin and I used a fork to eat mine that I understood. Without saying a word, I set down my fork, picked up my muffin, and bit off a chunk. Varro quickly mimicked my gesture.

From the way Varro held a fork and knife, it was clear that he'd used them before, but the rules of etiquette had changed, and he was trying to match our manners. For the rest of the meal, I kept an eye on Elron's eating habits, making adjustments to ensure Varro had a pattern to follow.

After we finished the meal, I helped Elron clean up and poured a second cup of tea for each of us. I moved a pitcher of water to the table too. If this conversation was as long as I expected, we would want a plenty of fluids.

"I am not sure where to start," Elron said.

Shrugging, I said, "As long as it makes sense, it doesn't matter to me."

"I found a clue in the diary. The salutations were different than what she had done in the past. The first letters spelled out demon's bane." He continued to recount how he spent yesterday morning. "Varro wished to come back with me, and we returned to the lodge. He insisted on relaying his story to both of us."

Varro nodded. "It's easier this way, and I needed to make sure I had the right people. Elron's visit to my woods was no accident. The Call pushed him there because the two of you need my knowledge. I am, to the best of my knowledge, the last Hunter."

Elron hardly twitched, but my jaw dropped. "How? I thought they were dead. The Hunters have been gone long enough to pass into myth for someone Elron's age. Wouldn't old age have killed you if nothing else did?"

Varro nodded. "Under normal conditions, yes. If you let me explain my journey, it will make more sense."

I nodded, as did Elron. After all, he'd found the Hunter we needed in a rather fortuitous series of events, and that warranted an explanation.

Varro's eyes unfocused as he looked at something we couldn't see. "I joined the Hunters long ago. As a boy, I'd planned on tending the forest as my parents had done. But in an unexpected turn of events, I ended up assisting the Hunters as they rid a town of a demon that had done terrible things to the residents. After seeing the effects of a single demon, I couldn't turn away from the innocent people who needed me. For years we hunted down demons. It was a difficult task as we often traveled, searching for signs or word of their evil.

"Demons were never plentiful, but after a time, we saw fewer of them until we simply stopped finding them. When years turned to decades without a sighting, the Hunters gathered together. It was a breathtaking sight; we were so seldom in the same area that seeing us together has remained with me for all this time. I make it sound like there were a great many of us, but we never numbered more than a hundred. It seemed like many more since we worked in groups of ten or less.

"We agreed to unofficially disband and go about our lives for the next century. Less than half of us made it to the second meeting. All of us had news of a comrade's passing. Several died of old age, and the rest of common maladies, but not a one from anything that could be traced back to a demon. The meeting was difficult because of the decisions we faced. Although the remaining Hunters came from long-lived races, time was not on our side, as demons didn't die from old age. By the end of the meeting, we had agreed that our knowledge couldn't be forgotten but was too sensitive to be written down. It took more than a year, but a particularly sharp witch perfected a spell that would ensure our knowledge continued until a new generation of demon hunters was educated."

Varro drew a ragged breath and tears fell from his eyes. "Fey are long-lived, but not long enough. All my fellows died that day to ensure my survival and the preservation of our knowledge. It was the price of the spell. I burned their bodies and tried to return to my life. When I went home, people wanted to know what had changed, and I couldn't answer without betraying my vows. I moved to a different town, and then two more, with each stay shorter than the last.

"I retreated to the woods where I felt closest to my mission and limited my contact with the world to a few trusted sources who would bring me information of unrest and potential evil. From time to time, I made forays to investigate problems, but for the most part I kept to myself."

My own tears hit the table. The pain in his voice was undeniable, and all the more tragic because, in his own way, he'd become a victim. I couldn't imagine his pain. The closest I could come was picturing Elron, Amber, and Tiffany dying to help me. If that pain wasn't enough, he had endured the years since never knowing when or if he would be called to action. And over time doubts had to have set in, making him question if there were even any demons left. If he'd been a lesser man, the deaths and uncertainty would've broken him.

"Elron's Call would've forced him to find me, no matter the cost, because I am the only one who can teach you how to kill the demon. From what I've been told, the demon has made several attempts on your life, Michelle, and you need to be ready when he makes the next one. That's how you're going to get him."

"Me?" I squeaked. He had mentioned teaching us how to kill demons, but I'd assumed we would be learning by example. This was turning into a learn-on-the-job situation.

He focused those pain- and hope-filled eyes on me. "You are the most important part."

"I do not like how that sounds," Elron said.

Me either, but I'd made my peace with facing down a demon before Varro showed up.

"It must be her."

"Why? Why not another someone else?"

Varro sighed. "Michelle feels like a Hunter, is a witch, and the demon is after her. It's the ideal combination."

I jumped in before Elron could continue questioning the fey. "Could you tell us more about killing the demon? Elron and I don't know anything about the process, so he's confused as to why it needs to be me versus any other witch."

The way Varro had phrased things didn't enthuse me. Feeling like a Hunter, whatever that meant, didn't speak to my odds of being able to return to a nice quiet life after things settled down. I had zero desire to roam the world looking for evil that needed to be squished.

Varro eyed Elron. "You won't like this."

Elron shrugged. "It has not been a time for pleasant things."

"The basic method sounds simple, but in practice it can be rather tricky. First, you must get the demon alone. This is where Gremory's obsession with Michelle helps our cause; he will attack her again, and if we're prepared, we can use that attack to draw him out. Once he arrives, we will capture him in a specially constructed spell. After that, the demon's bane is used to bind Gremory's spirit to a body. The host must be killed, and the spell transitioned into a new phase where it absorbs and purifies all the energy."

That last part did it for Elron; the color faded from his skin and his hands trembled. He clasped them together and moved them to his lap, but I could see his arms twitch.

"To whom must she bind the demon?" Elron whispered.

Varro kept his eyes focused on Elron. "Generally the one the demon is already occupying. In this case, I believe that would be your wife. It is possible to encourage the demon to move to a different host, but tracking the demon's movements can be difficult. Either way, the demon must be bound to the host, and the host must be killed to slay the demon."

Elron was frozen in his chair, and his eyes didn't seem to be focused on the here and now.

I cleared my throat. "You didn't sound hopeful when you mentioned that the demon could be moved to a different host."

"I read Sylvia's diary. The demon didn't pick her accidentally; there was a reason it had to be her, because under normal circumstances demons don't take elves as a host. This is the first time I've heard of a demon choosing an elf, and Sylvia seems to have more autonomy than a typical host. The fact that she was able to carry and discard the book while the demon was occupying her suggests an unconventional relationship between them."

"I don't follow," I said. As much as I wanted to watch Varro, I kept my eyes on Elron. He was still looking into the distance, and I couldn't be sure that he was aware of the conversation.

Varro sipped his tea. "In most cases, the demon takes a host, often a human or shifter, and doesn't leave it until the body is worn out and near death. During that time, the host's spirit is pushed aside. They lose any ability to control their body, actions, or perceive what is happening. When the demon leaves them, they have no memory of what occurred.

"Sylvia seems to be different for several reasons, aside from her race. The demon is switching between bodies, sometimes residing in her and sometimes residing in a male form. That alone isn't overly interesting, but she has been able to observe what Gremory does when he's controlling her body, which is most unusual. Beyond that, she has been able to push him aside, regain control, and it appears that he is unaware. This is a unique ability in a host, one that she could use to aid us. Even if she is unable to help us, the longevity of her form and the lengths to which he went to obtain it make it unlikely that he will be willing to switch forms. To kill Gremory you must kill Sylvia."

"I do not think I can harm her," Elron whispered, still pale and trembling.

I sat there feeling especially useless. On one hand, I wanted to comfort Elron, but at the same time I thought he would prefer to be left alone. Things were complicated enough without the woman he'd dated comforting him when she intended to kill his wife.

Elron was trembling. I scooted away from the table, stepped into the living room to grab a blanket, and hurried to wrap it around Elron. The trembling eased, he leaned into my arms, and I held him against my side.

"Shh, I'm here. I've got you." He started crying, and I kept holding him.

Varro looked on with pitying eyes. "I am sorry."

"Does he have to be there?" I didn't know what would be better—staying behind while your friends killed your wife or watching your wife die, knowing it was the lesser of evils.

Shaking his head, he answered. "No, but will he be able to stay away?"

I bit my lip. Elron wouldn't believe she was dead unless he watched her die, not after what had happened before.

"Why can't they be happy? Haven't both of them suffered enough? They deserve better than this—this life of misfortune." I didn't know if I was asking a question or demanding an answer, but the earth, moon, and sun were silent.

After a long moment, Varro spoke. "It doesn't work that way. You get the chances you get, and happiness can be stolen from you at any moment. Neither of them deserved this, but it's their life to live and their pain to bear."

"Sylvia didn't deserve to spend two hundred years as a demon's host only to die. Elron… just look at him." The man in question was still crying, silent tears escaping from puffy eyes.

Varro didn't look at Elron, instead remaining focused on me. "What about you? What would you do to prevent this pain?"

"I can't stop this pain. Nothing I do from here will make either of them better."

"What of other people? Gremory's next victims?"

"You heard me yesterday. I'll do what I have to do to keep people safe." Saying it out loud didn't make me feel any better; there was still an emptiness inside me because the man in my arms wasn't going to be healed with a death. Killing Gremory and Sylvia might end her captivity, but it wasn't a happy resolution.

All the fairy tales I'd read growing up had left out this part. Those heroes had saved the day, gotten the girl or guy, and found a better life. I wasn't going to be that hero because I had to kill a good woman, hurt a good man, and find the strength to move on with my life. There wouldn't be a parade for me, trumpets wouldn't sound, bells wouldn't ring, but I might get to dig a grave.

I looked up from my reflections to find Varro studying me. He knew what I was thinking and what I would do; it's why he said I felt like a Hunter. I might not be the same person when this was over, but Sylvia wasn't worth more than the ten people dead in Ellijay, Simon, the citizens of Forsyth who'd been killed by trolls, or the teens who would spend the rest of their lives in prison because a demon had talked them into breaking the law.

"I can do this." I swallowed. "I can kill Sylvia."

Varro nodded.

"Can you help me move him?" It would be easier for Varro to support or carry Elron.

"Where would you like him?"

"Let's put him in my bedroom." With the two of us continuing our conversation, he wouldn't get much rest on the sofa. Going back to his place wasn't an option. Given his retreat from the world upon finding out that Sylvia was alive, I didn't want to give him the chance to hide again. Elron needed to stay in the moment and see this through.

Varro helped Elron into my room where I settled him in bed. After spelling the windows so they wouldn't open, I returned to the main room to find Varro looking around the kitchen, an empty mug in his hand.

"What do you need?" I asked. Between the way he'd shown up and had admitted to secluding himself, I doubted he'd seen a modern kitchen.

"How does one make tea in this place?" Frustration laced his voice.

"Why don't I show you?" I walked him through the steps, explaining how different kitchen gadgets worked along the way. We returned to the table with fresh tea. The brew took the edge off my nerves. It was going to take me a few minutes to adjust, but nothing I'd heard was that different from what I'd anticipated.

"How are we going to get Gremory to come to us?" I asked. It was the one piece that hadn't made sense to me.

"If he doesn't attack you personally, you will use the connection between him and your next assailant to draw Gremory to us," Varro explained.

"I don't think Gremory will assault me. He'll send someone." So far, Gremory had gone out of his way to keep himself clear of any trouble. He didn't seem to be the type to put himself in harm's way.

"Ah, that will work in our favor. We can set the scene to give ourselves the best advantage when he does arrive." Varro smiled.

"How does the demon's bane work?" After all the effort that had gone into finding this flower, it would be nice to know what it did.

"When properly prepared, the bane can be turned into a liquid or powder. Once introduced to the host's system by ingesting it, touching it, or having it injected, it acts quickly and paralyzes the demon. It is still aware, but bound to the host and unable escape. Once bound to the host, it can be killed with the proper application of spells. I will teach you, and the elf, if he is well, how to find, cultivate, and prepare the plant."

There was urgency to Varro's words. The lines around his eyes were deeper, the shadows under them darker, his posture a little less exact.

"Why are you telling me so much so quickly? You're giving me more than the information I asked for." It seemed wrong for a man who'd spent lifetimes hiding to suddenly spill his secrets.

He stilled, not watching me but lost in his own thoughts. With a sigh, Varro returned to the present. "The spell the witch used was exact. 'In the purist form of the darkest spell, we give our lives for you, to hold our knowledge dear, to stand in our stead, to face what we cannot, until the day a successor comes to you. Pass on our knowledge fast and true, for those shall be the last days gifted to you.'"

"You're dying."

Varro nodded. "I should be with you through confronting this demon, but that will be my end."

If he even made it that long. The boundaries on the spell were specific, ensuring he would make it to this moment, but not giving him a way to live on. Varro hadn't mentioned how many Hunters had died to fuel this spell, but it could've been as many forty. Considering that they'd gone about their lives for a century before returning to the meeting, those who were left had to be of the longer-lived races, many of whom would typically live for a hundreds or thousands of years. They had given their lives to him, but even with the price they paid, there had been a limit to what magic could provide.

"No one lives forever," I mumbled.

"Not even demons. What you see from this demon is nothing compared to what has happened in the past. Time has gotten to him, weakening him. The remaining demons, however many or few, may be shadows of their former selves as well."

"None of us can count on that," I said. My future was changing before my eyes. If I was the only one holding this knowledge, I had a duty to see it preserved and rid the world of as many demons as I could. That didn't fit with my idea of small-town life where I battled spelled teapots and garden shrubs.

"No, you must learn quickly because my time is limited and where there is one demon, there is often another. Many Hunters have been killed by a demon looking for revenge. As solitary as they are, they do target those who target them."

A chill settled over my skin. He'd mentioned that earlier, but it had gotten lost in the story. Every word he said made this feel bigger and heavier.

"It is more than that." Elron's voice was hoarse, and he leaned heavily on the doorframe.

"Elron, you should be in bed."

"No, there is more than he has said. My Call brought me to you and made me find him. Chance did not bring us together, not with a Calling involved."

"No, it wasn't chance." Varro sighed.

"Michelle, show him your clan scar."

I didn't argue with him. Callings were purpose driven. The earth had given Elron the Calling for a reason, and it had pulled all of us here, to this moment, for a reason too.

The neck of my cotton shirt was soft and loose from years of wear. I slipped it over the top of my shoulder, pulled my hair to the side, and turned to show the symbol to Varro. He walked over and traced the shape with his fingertip. Sorrow and bewilderment crossed his face.

When he stepped back, I tugged my shirt back in place and helped Elron to the table before sitting down again. Varro stood behind his chair, head down, hands resting on the back.

Elron had picked up his now-cold tea and was sipping it as if nothing was going on, but his face was still damp and his eyelashes were clumped together.

"Can someone explain things to the very confused witch?"

Elron raised an eyebrow at Varro. "I have naught but suspicions. It is his story."

"The witch who spelled me so long ago, she had that same mark," Varro said.

I sighed. "Yes, the mark of the Ieldra. I'm one of the lucky ones who was born with a stamp on them that declares them capable of amazing and fantastic things. I guess this qualifies."

"No," Varro snapped. "It was exactly the same."

"What?" I said.

"Your clan scars are identical. Before she died, she told me her children didn't get the similar scars. It puzzled her because the scars were a mark of family, and hers wasn't passed down." Varro sat in the chair, leaning heavily on the table. "Elron is correct, the three of us were meant to be here. What your scar means past that, I can't say."

"Destiny or not, I'm here and willing to do what needs to be done." I'd never been a big believer in fate, but that didn't matter right now. What did matter was making the most of the time we had with Varro. "Would you be willing to write down your story?"

"I was given ability to speak the language. It'll take time for me to learn how to write in this language."

Smiling, I said, "What if I had a way around that? Would you be willing to have your knowledge on paper? I'm afraid that we may forget something without a written account. You've been waiting a long time to pass on your knowledge, and I wouldn't want it to go to waste."

"I suppose I would be willing."

"Perfect." I rushed to my workroom and found a pen and an empty diary. Setting them in front of Varro, I quickly spelled them. "All you have to do is touch the pen and start talking, just like you're telling a story. It will write down what you say until you touch it again. Try it."

He gently tapped the pen with his finger and started speaking. When the pen began dancing across the page, he smiled at me, touched the pen again, and said, "Thank you."

"Thank you for trusting us," I said.

Varro began telling his story again, in more detail than he had before, quickly finding a rhythm.

Elron pulled me to the side. "We need to talk."

"Are you sure?" We'd been doing a lot of talking lately. My voice could use a rest.

"Yes."

Chapter 15: Elron

"Wait a moment."

Michelle nodded, and I hurried into my apartment, quickly returning with a small box. She eyed it but did not inquire as I led her outside. Ty greeted us at the door, and we spent several minutes with him before he lay down in the clearing. We settled on a bench nearby, and I set the box next to my feet.

Words did not come easily due to the slew of emotions vying for my attention. There was anger with the situation. I was unable to find an outcome that would benefit everyone. There was not a single person that should die, but at least one would not make it through the night. Along with the anger was a sensation of helplessness. The people around me deserved better than a man who had been unable to help himself and was equally powerless to help his friends.

And there was a healthy dose of grief. After hearing Varro state what I had been unwilling to acknowledge, it felt like it was happening a second time. Sylvia was in trouble again, and I was as unable to help now as I had been before. I grieved until there was nothing left, finding numbness that allowed me to function and cushioned the reality of the situation.

My heart clenched as I gazed upon the woman next to me. I wanted her in my life for years to come because what I felt with her was unlike anything I had experienced. It was a feeling I did not want to lose, but I could not betray Sylvia. If these short moments were all we had, I wanted to remember every detail.

"I am sorry," I said.

"For what?" Michelle tipped her head.

"Everything, I suppose." The list was too lengthy to recount.

"That's a lot to be sorry for. It's not easy to be directly responsible for that many things." She rubbed her ivy-covered forearm.

"If the Call had not pulled me here, you would be going about your life, the demon would not be after you, and you would not have the added trouble of dealing with a mess like me."

She studied me. "You're wrong. Parts of this case found me before we became friends. Around the time we met, I was dealing with creatures one of Gremory's followers had created. If that hadn't gotten him on my trail, finding the trolls would've. You can't be blamed for either of those; the police would've called me anyway. And you're not a mess; friends help each other. You saved me from Adder, and I'm here to help you anyway I can."

"What about…"

"The dates?" she supplied. "That's not going to happen right now. Perhaps in the future, but for now you have more than enough things to deal with."

There was a serenity to her that I did not understand; it was as if she knew what was coming. I had to ask. "How can you be so calm?"

"I know there is a chance for the future. That's all it is right now, a chance. Until things are settled, that's all it'll be. We don't know what the next few days will bring, and that's a hurdle we need to pass before either of us can move on with our lives."

She said it as gently as she could, but there was a cold dose of reality in those words. Sylvia's previous demise had sent me into a depression that lasted two human life spans. That was hardly a reassuring precedent.

Michelle spoke softly. "Elron, is this the best time for this conversation? We're friends and we can deal with the rest when things are settled. I know you're hurting, and I'll do everything I can to make this easier on you." She leaned against me. "You don't have to be there when…"

When Sylvia was killed. Whether or not my attendance was necessary had yet to be decided, but I needed to be there and see it with my own eyes. I had to watch her death. "I think it would be better if I'm there, but we should discuss it with Varro before any decisions are made." I had been misled once and would not let that happen again.

"All right." Michelle didn't sound convinced, but she let it go.

I picked up the wooden box and redirected the conversation before my nerves could get the better of me. "I had this made for you."

"What is it?"

My fingers trembled as I lifted the top off. Inside, resting on a thick wool cloth, was a wooden bracelet with swirls and twists carved into the wood and a matching wand.

"A new wand? That's perfect." She smiled. "The bracelet is beautiful."

"It is not just a bracelet. I know you are curious about my sword, and after seeing the ways you carry the wand, I thought you would appreciate an alternative."

"But what does the bracelet have to do with your sword?"

I rolled up my sleeve and showed her the metal wrist cuff on my arm, but she still looked puzzled. Standing up, I took a step away from the bench before turning to face her. Fingers curled, I twisted my hand and my sword settled into my grasp. Twisting my hand in the opposite direction, the sword vanished.

"Now you," I said.

Michelle fitted the bracelet on her wrist, set the box next to her, and twisted her hand. The wand appeared in her hand, tumbled out of her fingers, and bounced along the ground. I picked up the wand and set it in her hand.

"Feel it, know its size and how it rests in your hand. Now, want the wand to return to the box and rotate your wrist the other direction."

Her hand twisted and the wand reappeared in the box. She immediately curled her fingers and tried to return it to her hand. This time she fumbled but kept a grip on it.

"You made this took so easy. A twitch here, a finger moving there, and suddenly you have a sword." She sent the wand back to the box and rubbed her hand. "It would be easier without the ivy."

"Is it causing you discomfort?" Michelle had barely touched it this morning, but since we'd exited the building she had been scratching and rubbing the vines.

"It's been itchy since we left my apartment. Can you get it to settle down?" Michelle held out her arm.

"I shall try." I took her hand in mine. The ivy was as reluctant to provide information as it had been last time. It informed me that it would not cause her harm and that good things were happening. The last part excited the plant so much it twitched, lifting sections of its tendrils off her skin before returning them in a slightly different area.

"That. Please, make it stop doing that." She scrunched her eye.

The ivy heard the distress in her voice and settled down. Before I could initiate further conversation, it started to emit a green glow.

Michelle looked at her arm with wide eyes. "I changed my mind. Get it off me."

I was studying her wrist and trying to determine the best way to remove the ivy when movement at the edge of woods caught my attention. Looking up, I saw a man coming out of the woods. As soon as I got a good look at him, I knew he was of no danger to us.

He was a tall, burly man with skin the color of cherrywood and green hair with a sprig of pine tucked behind a pointed ear. His only clothing was a loincloth, which gave me a good view of the tattoo covering the left side of his chest.

The tattoo was of a maple tree. The top of the branches reached the base of his throat and curved with his shoulder, while its trunk turned to roots in line with his navel. The leaves on the tree were a mix of green, gold, and red. As he walked across the garden, a red leaf fell off the tree and moved down his torso, coming to a stop atop the tree's roots. The design might have looked like a human tattoo, but with movement like that it was something else entirely.

Michelle turned around and followed my gaze. When her eyes rested on the man, her jaw dropped. "Please be on our side," she whispered.

"Leshy Apalchen," I breathed.

"Who?" she asked, but I didn't answer.

The leshy stopped by Ty and scratched the dinosaur's jaw. Ty lazily thumped his tail against the ground and grunted. Leaning down, the leshy spoke to Ty in a soft voice that did not travel to my ears. His tail stilled as he growled and whined responses. A few words later, Ty resumed his vigorous wagging, and the leshy patted him again before continuing in our direction.

Leshy Apalchen came to a halt in front of Michelle. Her mouth was agape, and for once she was speechless. She sat there, motionless, as he plucked the wand out of the case and grasped her ivy-covered hand. At his touch, the ivy crept off her hand, making lazy loops around his arm.

After the ivy had transferred, he released her hand and held the wand an inch above the vine-covered portion of his body. As we watched, the ivy shifted to the wand, shrinking when it contacted the wood and twisting around the wand from tip to handle. When all the ivy was circling the wand, the green glow faded and it flattened, leaving a green design in the wood.

The leshy ran his fingers up and down the wand. Although I could feel magic, I could not discern what he was doing. He kissed the handle of the wand, and the air tingled with magic. After setting the wand back in the box, he kissed Michelle on the forehead.

"Thank you," Michelle whispered.

Leshy Apalchen smiled and stepped in front of me. He rested a finger against the metal cuff on my wrist, leaving the impression of an oak leaf and a tingle of magic behind. Leaning down, Leshy Apalchen set his lips against my forehead.

"All shall be well, my son." The voice in my head was deep and clear. "You know the path you must follow. Stand true."

He strode away whilst I was trying to form a coherent question, vanishing into the forest before the words would come to my lips. It was all well and good for him to tell me everything would be all right, but that did not help me deal with the here and now. As for the path, there was more than one before me. The vows I'd made to Sylvia, the push of the Call, the desire to terminate Gremory, and my feelings for Michelle, all were vying for my attention. Oh, the Call was likely to win as it was difficult to resist its pull, but I wanted to at least have the opportunity to shape the life I would live. If I had the chance to do more than react and follow orders, I needed to be emotionally stable so I could seize the moment with both hands.

Michelle looked at me. "You never did tell me who that was."

"That was Leshy Apalchen, the forest spirit of this area."

She paled. "The forest spirit came to visit me?"

I nodded.

"Was that one of the lesser forest spirits? One that covers a small area?"

"No, Michelle, that was the forest spirit of this area. I cannot say how much land he tends, but it is at least the lower Appalachian Mountains."

"Oh." She chewed on her lip. "He didn't speak to me."

"What?"

"You had that look you get when someone has said something frustrating."

"Ah." We sat there in silence, watching Ty roll in the grass.

It took more time than I would have liked, but I managed to empty my mind and let the tranquility of the earth wash over me. The garden was happy to have us, especially Michelle. It hadn't been seeing her enough lately. The trees were enjoying the last days of fall before they settled in for the winter. Evergreens were shedding pinecones, and beneath us the earth was slowing down.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Michelle asked, breaking my meditation.

"Yes."

"Good. I've had enough interaction with nature for a few days."

Chapter 16: Michelle

I was standing outside my apartment, trying to decide if I was willing to examine the wand in front of Varro, when my parents walked around the corner.

"Michelle, there's a message for you in the front yard," Dad said.

"Another one?" Of course there was. It had been an entire twelve hours since the last one. I set the wand box next to my front door and met them halfway down the hall.

"I know. We'll figure out something," Mom said, exchanging a look with Dad.

We headed for the door with Elron trailing behind. Luckily, he didn't mention the leshy. I needed time to reflect before I disclosed that encounter to everyone else. It would be one more thing people wanted to discuss, and I didn't have another tedious conversation in me. More to the point, I didn't have any answers.

"Make that two," Dad said as he opened the front door. Mom and Elron followed him onto the porch, but I hung back. With the protections on the lodge, the messages couldn't enter the building, even with the door open. One of the messages was the now-familiar glowing orb, this one a midnight blue. The second one was a letter floating five feet off the deck.

"Do I have to listen to them? I've suffered through enough of these."

"If you listen to them, we know where we stand with other clans," Mom said.

"But you don't have to," Dad countered.

"I don't?" My ears perked up. "Won't they the just follow me around until they can divulge their message?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Dad answered, "but I can deal with them."

"Please do. I'm starting to dream about these things and hear the voices when I'm in the shower." Ingrid's voice was especially persistent.

Dad went to his car, returned with an unadorned card box about twelve inches square with a circular hole in the top. He set it next to the front door and took a few steps back. As he began mouthing words, power built around him. With a wave of his hand, there was a soft pop and the air around the box vibrated with energy.

The orb soared into the box, followed by the letter. Dad smiled. "From now on, the messages should go directly into the box. It will turn black when it's full, and you'll have two days to do something with the messages. If you ask it nicely, it should return the letters one by one, but if you'd rather, you can hold your hand over the opening and say 'Be Gone.' The box will do its best to destroy all the letters, but that option will destroy the box too. If you wait too long, the box will automatically destroy the messages and itself."

"Thank you, Dad," I said, stepping outside to give him a hug.

"You're welcome," he whispered.

"We will figure this out, Michelle," Mom said, patting my back.

I was sure there was a solution, but I was out of grand ideas. The only thing I could suggest was joining a clan, and they hadn't been thrilled with that notion last time it came up.

"I know we will, but I don't have the energy to deal with it right now. After Gremory's dead, we can revisit the issue." Not enough energy wasn't the only problem. I didn't have time either. Varro wanted us to be ready, and I was sure his version of ready didn't include me spending time on ill-mannered witches.

"We can hope that this buys you enough time to fight the demon," Dad said. "If it doesn't work, I'll think of something else."

"You are the best."

Dad smiled and came back inside, followed by Mom. Elron poked the box with his toe on his way in.

"Dad," I said nervously, "have you started on my wand?"

He rubbed his temple. "No. I'm sorry, Michelle."

"No, it's okay. I found one that will do nicely, and I was hoping you could make me a scrying bowl instead. I don't have a good one right now." I watched him, trying to figure out if I'd hurt his feelings.

Dad smiled. "Of course, though it may take me a few weeks."

"That's okay. It could be a Christmas present."

"Oh, I should be able to do better than that for Christmas."

"I really appreciate it."

With that, we ran out of easy conversation. The four of us stood in the entryway, Elron with his shoulders hunched, tapping his fingers against his thigh, Mom and Dad holding hands, shifting back and forth.

Elron, I understood. He'd followed, not because he thought I'd need his help, but because his only other choice had been Varro, who was hardly a soothing presence.

"What is it?" I asked. This was the go-to awkwardness my parents exhibited when they didn't want to talk about something but had to tell me anyway.

Mom spoke up. "We are going to stay at Greg's house until things with the demon are settled. It's safer there; you'll understand when you come to the wedding. And I think we'll distract you if we stay." She sniffled.

Dad picked up the explanation before I could start sputtering questions. "We'll do anything we can to help, but we talked it over and this seems best. We won't be able to help with the spell, you're more than capable of protecting yourself, and if we're here, you'll be worried about us."

There, in that last sentence, I could see the pain they felt. They wanted to be here, fighting for me and helping me, but this wasn't something they could fix. Along with that came the realization that as long as they were here, they could be a liability, something to pull my attention away from my task. They weren't leaving because they wanted me to do this on my own, they were leaving because they couldn't help, could hurt me, and couldn't watch me stand between evil and the rest of the world.

"I'll call every day."

"I know you will." Mom pulled me in for a hug.

Dad patted my shoulder, but his eyes were focused behind me. I looked up to see him nod. Dad wouldn't be here, but he trusted Elron to keep me safe. Hopefully Elron could keep his side of the bargain, but I wasn't willing to bet on it since he would have enough on his plate with Sylvia having returned possessed by a demon, not to mention her forthcoming death. I hoped, for his sake, that if he failed to keep me safe he wouldn't make it, because living with that would destroy him and he deserved better than that. The earth would welcome him home, bringing him the peace he hadn't been able to achieve in life.

Mom let me go, dabbing her eyes. "The car's already packed. We'll be at his house by lunch. I can call, let you know we arrived safely."

I nodded. "Leave a message if I don't pick up. Dad, can you make me another box when this one is full?"

"Of course, and I'll teach you the spell next week." His smile was forced.

"That would be nice. I'll see you soon." I gave both of them another hug before watching them settle into the car and roll down the driveway. Watching them leave hurt. They took something with them as they bumped down the gravel road, and I felt its lack as sorrow crept into my heart. For a moment I wanted to call them back. As distracting as they could be, it would be nice to have their support.

"We should check on Varro, and I must show you the other features of that bracelet," Elron said, breaking my reflections.

"Oops, I didn't mean to leave him alone this long." My feet were heavy, and each step took more effort than usual. I missed my parents already and wanted to run down the road, calling them back. Darn them for being right.

"He will be fine, although your apartment might have been remodeled in our absence."

I groaned. "What if he got into my workroom?"

"Then we will find him entangled in the trinkets from Union County that you have yet to disenchant."

"If he breaks anything, I'm feeding him to Landa."

Elron chuckled, picked up the wand box, and held open door to my apartment. Varro was sitting exactly where we left him, still talking to the book. Elron closed the door behind us, and Varro nodded in our direction. When he finished speaking, he tapped the pen and it fell onto the page.

"That's unexpected. Good, but unexpected," Varro said.

"What?" I asked.

Elron stood next to me, head tilted to one side, long silver hair trailing down his arm.

"You've been blessed. 'Tis an unexpected boon. Why didn't you tell me this was why you needed to leave?"

"I'm sorry, I'm confused," I said.

Elron started speaking before I finished. "Is that what he did?"

Varro's face didn't change, but I had the feeling he was surprised. "He didn't tell you?"

I took a deep breath. "Could you please explain?"

Beside me, Elron nodded, turned to look at me, and took a quick step back, eyes wide with shock. He looked between Varro and me, but didn't speak.

"Has so much been lost? How could you not know?" Varro groused.

"Enough. She is not yet thirty years, and witches cannot see this as easily as you and I. He clearly didn't want us to know, or I would have seen it on her before he had time to bless me."

I interrupted before the debate could get out of hand. "The witch would like to know what the two of you are talking about."

It would be a nice change if people explained things rather than having cryptic conversations. My parents were masters at exchanging mysterious looks. Elron wasn't far behind with his ability to have a conversation while managing to leave out the details that would allow me to follow the conversation.

Varro was the first to speak. "The two of you have been blessed by Leshy Apalchen. It is a sign that the earth will support you and aid you. Many Hunters receive this blessing, which can be unpredictable but has saved the lives of my friends in the past."

"What does the blessing do?" With that information, I could piece together what had happened. When the leshy kissed us, he'd performed a spell. I hadn't noticed it because nature magic wasn't in my repertoire.

"I've never heard one of them explain exactly what it entails, and it isn't something to be relied upon. However, the earth, forest, and creatures will be more likely to help you."

"Oh," I said. That wasn't the crystal-clear definition I'd wanted, but it was close enough. The forest had been helpful lately, and this sounded like a formalization of that aid.

Varro nodded. "Can we eat? We need to start preparing for the demon, and I'd feel better if we began with full stomachs."

"I will get food." Elron set the wand box on the table and left.

"Can I get you more tea or water?" I asked.

"Tea, please. I did not feel comfortable making my own." His voice was soft.

I smiled at him. "I'll be happy to brew more. Come over and pick a flavor."

It had to be hard, being away from the familiar. He was an accomplished fighter and yet was unable to do simple tasks he had done countless times in the past. I kept my movements slow and deliberate so he could follow what I did. Maybe next time he would feel confident enough to use the stove on his own.

The tea finished brewing at the same time Elron returned with a tray of food and a box that resembled the wand case, except that it was about six feet longer. He leaned the box against the wall, moved Varro's book, and set the table. Lunch was a quick affair, lacking conversation. It could've been due to hunger, but I suspected each of us had plenty of thoughts monopolizing our attention.

Varro had aged since the last time I'd seen him, the lines beside his eyes deeper and longer, his skin slacker, and his eyes tired. Elron and I needed to extract every bit of information we could from him before he died. I hoped he made it through killing the demon, because I couldn't be sure how Elron would react to seeing his wife, never mind participating in her death.

After a quick cleanup, Elron pulled me into the living room while Varro was in the bathroom.

"I need to show you one more thing the bracelet can do." He set the long slender box on the sofa.

"Isn't the trick with the wand enough?" I asked. "Oh, will I be able to do what you did with the spirit of the greater ghoul?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you sliced through the spirit, the portion you cut off dissolved. Will my wand be able to do that now?"

"I do not believe so. The wand was provided by the forest with minimal shaping from the craftsman. My sword is the work of a master smith known for imbuing his blades with unique abilities."

"Oh, okay, so what else can the bracelet do?"

Elron shook his head. "It solves a problem you had with the staff. Hold your hands in the basic grip, loosen your hands, and want the staff."

I did what he said, and the staff appeared in my hands. "Nice, now how do I get rid of it?"

"Squeeze the staff and will it to return to the box."

The staff vanished, and just as quickly I called it back to my hands. "This is easier than the wand."

"The wand will feel effortless after a bit of practice. Do you like it?"

"Like it? I love it. Thank you, Elron." I hugged him.

It took a second, but his arms came around me, and his head rested against mine. Then he released me and quickly stepped back. The smile didn't change the sadness in his eyes. "I am glad. Where would you like to store the boxes?"

I smiled back, ignoring his sadness and my own. "Why don't we put them in my bedroom closet? I can find a better place for them later, but that should keep them out of the way."

I picked up the wand box as he grabbed the staff box and followed me. It didn't take much time to stash them. Elron left me rearranging shoes, and I tried to push away my fears. No matter what I'd dreamed, or what Elron's subconscious had said, there was no guarantee we would resume our relationship. He didn't seem to be remembering, and I doubted he would be able to process those feelings after facing Sylvia. What an unfair world it was, with so much pain and not nearly enough joy.

Varro came out of the bathroom as I tucked the last pair of shoes into their spot, and we walked into the main room together. He didn't waste any time, calling both of us over to the table.

"We don't have much time if we want to be ready when the next attack comes. I'll go over the plan, detail how we are going to kill the demon, teach you how to prepare the demon's bane, and teach Michelle the spells she'll need. We'll also need Julius."

Chapter 17: Michelle

I'd practiced calling and dismissing my wand until my hand cramped. Elron and Varro had taken over my kitchen and turned the demon's bane into a liquid, paste, and powder. I'd gone over the spells more times than I cared to count, and Elron had been quizzing Varro on plants, Gremory, Leshy Apalchen, killing demons, and anything else that came to his mind.

"Guys, I have to take a break." The two of them looked at me, surprise written all over their faces. I kept rubbing my hand, trying to get my fingers to straighten.

"You don't use your hand to listen to me," Varro said.

"No, but my headache is making it hard to focus. I need an hour to get out of this place and clear my head." Exhaling, I got my middle finger to flatten. Only the index finger was continuing to curl.

"I suppose we could all use an hour to rest," Elron spoke slowly, keeping his eyes on Varro.

Varro had a perturbed look. "My voice has been bothering me, so I suppose a break would be beneficial. I can't think of a good reason for you to leave, and I can think of several reasons for you to stay inside the lodge."

"I agree; being here is better than leaving. That's why I'm going to go for a walk rather than a drive." A drive to the coffee shop sounded relaxing, but it wasn't the responsible thing to do. I needed to be here, learning everything I could from Varro while he was around. I would continue my education as soon as my brain stopped hurting.

The men nodded.

"You should take Ty with you, and if you are not back in an hour, I will start searching for you," Elron said.

"Deal." I smiled at him as I pulled a coat out of the closet and bolted out the door.

The tension in my head eased the moment I stepped outside. The fall air was crisp, the fallen leaves had turned the ground golden, and the mountains cast long shadows. I spent a few minutes at my altar, finding a taste of tranquility, something that had been in short supply lately. The nearby oak tree swayed in the breeze, and the white pine dropped several pinecones. Under me, the earth was a steady and soothing presence.

I bid the clearing good-bye and hoped I didn't get any forest-dwelling visitors. The one was all I could take today. Life in general had been more exciting than I liked, and if I made it through killing the demon, I was looking forward to quieter times. It would be nice to get back to flaming vases and disenchanting the items from Union County.

Ty started grunting and wagging his tail as soon as he caught sight of me from his favorite spot at the corner of the lodge. I went over to pet and hug him, glad to see the big guy.

"What do you think about giving me a ride?" I whispered.

He nodded enthusiastically.

I climbed up a tree and dropped onto his back. Ty was rounder than the chubbiest pony, and I couldn't get a good grip. From this angle, the ground looked more than twelve feet away, and I vowed to get a helmet before I tried this again.

"All right, Ty. Let's go down the driveway… gently." If he kept to a walk, I should be able to hold on, but if he moved up to a trot I was done.

Ty moved out at a slow walk, carefully picking his way around Landa's garden, missing flowerbeds, hedges, and sculptures. We made it out of the garden, and I started to relax into his gait, which at this speed was an exaggerated sway that reminded me of the way people looked riding camels.

Each thump of his foot shook the trees, sending red and gold leaves raining down upon us. Throwing my head back, I soaked in the evening sun trailing across my skin. The breeze picked up, and I opened my eyes to see funnels of leaves dance across the ground.

At the end of the driveway, Ty looked both ways before swinging into the road to make a gentle circle before taking me home. Thankfully, there wasn't a car in sight. One of these days I would have to figure out what to do if someone happened to see Ty. It wouldn't do to alarm the locals.

Besides, I'd never get over it if they went from saying, "There's gold in them thar hills," to "There's a T. rex in them thar hills." Not to mention all the ruckus that would come from people trying to hunt Ty. By the time the memory faded and only a handful of people remembered there was a dinosaur hiding in the North Georgia woods, it would've caused me more than one headache.

The air was forced out of my chest by the heavy object that hit me in the ribs. My fingers clawed at Ty's back, but without anything to grip, I slid off. The fall seemed to go on and on. Ty's shoulders, ribs, and stomach slipped past me, and I tried to think.

I should've worn a helmet. Mom had told me over and over that helmets saved lives, and I'd never gotten on a bike without one. Riding a dinosaur had to be more dangerous than a bike. I should've gone on foot with Ty walking next to me. His knee flashed in front of my eyes. This was going to hurt. If only the ground wasn't so hard.

The last thought sparked an idea. I scrunched my eyes shut, focused on the ground under me, and whispered, "Orzu."

My back hit the ground, which bowed down and absorbed the impact. My head wasn't even jostled by the cushioned landing. I lay there, wrinkling my nose at the less-than-pleasant scent permeating the air, and looked up to a snorting Ty.

"I'm all right."

His snort turned into a snarl. Mouth open, he lunged at me, snapping his jaw shut inches from my right arm. Before I could protest his attitude change, he lunged forward, a big foot looming overhead.

"Fehu." The ground under me solidified, and I rolled to the side, his foot just missing me. The second foot was on the move, and I scrambled out of the way, scraping hands and knees in the process. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a dark shape lunging for me. I shuffled to the side, lost my balance navigating over roots, and landed on my butt.

Ty was backing up to extract himself from the trees that had delayed his pursuit of the human-shaped thing attacking me. It ran into a sunbeam, giving the ghoul more detail than I'd wanted to see. There wasn't a good way for me to figure out if it was a greater ghoul, but assuming it was, I didn't have enough time to put together a good spell, and I couldn't outrun it. I crab walked backward, trying to buy myself enough time to make a plan.

The ghoul launched itself at me, and I plopped down, held my hands out in front of me, and hoped Elron's trick worked. The staff settled into my hands, and by some bit of luck I got it positioned correctly, holding it across the ghoul's chest. For being mostly bone, it was heavy.

My arms started shaking, and its fingers scraped my arms and chest as it tried to grab me. The odor of rotting flesh filled my nose until it was all I could do to keep my last meal inside my body. The trembling in my arms had gotten bad enough that the ghoul was swaying inches closer to me.

Letting my right arm dip gave me enough room to get a foot on the ghoul's pelvis. As its fingers scraped my neck, I held my breath and heaved it off me. It didn't go far, but it was enough room for me to get to my feet and get a better grip on the staff.

The ghoul charged at me again, and I whacked it across the rib cage. The impact ruptured tendons, leaving strips of muscle dangling off its bones. The thing stumbled back, steadied itself, and slowly approached me.

When it was within reach, I aimed the staff at its legs. The ghoul jumped over the staff and, before I could get it back in a defensive position, knocked me down. I tried to get the staff up, but my hand slipped, and the staff wasn't in a useful position when the ghoul reached down. A dark shape loomed over the two of us, and the ghoul was picked up and hurled into the woods.

Ty kept his eyes on the ghoul, which had crashed through a few limbs, while I sucked in clean air. I vanished the staff, called in my wand, and tried to think of the best thing to do now. Ty's growls had probably alerted the lodge, but they didn't know what was out here, and Varro had said we needed to capture the next creature. It would've been nice if Gremory had sent an annoying but mostly harmless creature like a gremlin or spider, but that wasn't his style.

The ghoul was up and running at us, minus an arm. I stepped back to give Ty room to work. If Ty could keep it away from me, I might be able to adapt a spell Varro had been teaching me. One of these days I had to put aside some time to practice purifying power and spells.

Ty tossed the ghoul back into the woods, and I started tracing runes in the air with my wand. Haphazardly mixing the elements of two spells wasn't ideal. The shield bubble needed to be purified so the ghoul couldn't get out, and it needed enough power to sustain the spell for a while. This would be a lot of effort for nothing if the ghoul got out in a few hours.

Under my fingers, the wand was warm and buzzing, as if it was generating its own energy to augment mine. I got the power purification runes right, and the rest slid together easily. Ty was getting ready for his next defensive move when the silvery sphere encapsulated the ghoul.

The ghoul had picked up its missing limb when he was in the woods and was using it as a club to beat against the inside of the sphere. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took a moment to look around. Sometime during the scuffle, we'd moved off the road and into Landa's driveway. With a little luck, no one had driven by during the scuffle. The police showing up at the house wouldn't improve anything.

I dismissed the wand and patted Ty. "Thank you, buddy, I don't know what I would've done without you. He lowered his head, and I leaned against his cheek. "You are a very good boy. Do you think you can help me get the ghoul back to the lodge?"

Ty nodded.

I walked over to the silvery sphere and gave it a push. It rolled across the ground without much effort, sending the ghoul tumbling around. Once I got it going, Ty took over, nosing it around like a dog herding a ball. The ghoul somersaulted and flopped onto the bottom of the ball, clinging to that spot long enough to ride it up before being hurled back to the bottom. Ty ran after the sphere and nosed it again. I really needed to make some dinosaur-sized toys. He loved to play.

The trip home was slower, mostly because we were restricted to my tired shuffle. The two of us rolled the ghoul into the parking lot, and I plopped down on the stairs. I needed a shower. Between rolling through the dirt and grappling with the ghoul, my clothes were bloody and torn, cuts on my hands and knees continued to ooze, and I smelled like rotten corpse.

If I'd had any doubts about my parents leaving, this had silenced them. Dad's house might not be safer or under my watchful eye, but Mom would've had a fit if she saw me like this. The ghoul wouldn't have gone over well either. Dad would've been bit more relaxed, but even he was bound to get upset at some point.

The front door opened and Elron's voice drifted out. "We were getting worried. Where have you… Never mind that. Are you all right? What happened?"

Elron bounded down the stairs, knelt down, and started patting me for injuries. I can't say the attention helped my bruised body, but the worry was charming.

"I'm banged up but fine. Turns out, Varro was right; taking a walk was a bad idea. We were at the end of the driveway when the ghoul jumped me, but I captured it so we can move on to the killing-the-demon part of things. That's good, right?" The moment the words escaped, I wanted to call them back.

Elron's hands shook, but that didn't slow down his inspection of my leg. When he spoke, his voice was steady. "That would be beneficial."

"Ty and your bracelet saved me." His eyes met mine, and I continued. "You were right. I didn't have enough time for a spell, but the staff kept it off me until Ty could help."

"When things settle down, we will be practicing three times a week."

"Three? Is that really necessary?" I groaned, but that could've been from his poking my scraped knee.

"It is. When I learned the staff, I had to practice daily. Three times a week is my concession to your busy life and other skills. We can always practice more." He winked.

"Three is good."

Elron set down my leg and studied the remains standing in the opalescent sphere. Ty's attention was fixed on the ghoul, which was reattaching its arm.

"What are we going to do with it?" I asked. Sure, the spell was holding, but I wasn't sure how long it would last. That was one of the dangers of cobbling together complex spells on the fly—the parameters could get lost, overextend, or be insufficient.

"That is a question for Varro." Elron touched a finger to the wooden railing and a slight shudder radiated into the building.

Between the fight and the slow walk home, the sun had drifted closer to the horizon, and the mountains were casting long shadows over the ground. The breeze cut through my sweater, raising goose bumps on my arms. The chill crept under my skin and into my heart. With the captured ghoul, we were ready for the last part of Varro's plan.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I ducked my head so Elron wouldn't see. Varro had drilled the plan into our heads. Once we captured the demon's next attacker, we would use it to draw Gremory to us and kill him. Whether he'd want to start that part of the plan tonight or tomorrow, I couldn't say, but this night could be my last with Elron.

Since finding that diary, I'd felt like there was an invisible timer counting down until things changed again. Between Gremory, Sylvia, Elron, and Varro, there was so much that could happen. Moving forward, every path had some or many undesirable results.

A sharp whistle caught my attention. Blinking furiously to clear the moisture out of my eyes, I looked up to see Julius gliding into the parking lot. He landed and examined the ghoul on his way over to us.

"It's good to see him captured. I noticed his arrival but lost him in the forest and ended up searching for him in the wrong area. My apologies that I was not nearby to help," Julius said.

"It's fine. Ty and I got him."

Julius looked over his shoulder to see Ty nodding. "I see. Excellent work."

"So it has happened," Varro said from the porch.

Elron's hand tightened around mine, and I gave what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze. Varro stepped around us as he came down the stairs to look at my catch. He exchanged a curt nod with Julius and paced around the ghoul several times.

With a sigh, he turned back to us. "I had hoped we would have more time, but that won't be the case. There is much to do and little time. Elron, help Michelle get cleaned up. Julius and I shall store the ghoul."

"But what if the spell fails? I made up that spell on the spot; I don't know if it will hold." However, considering the energy it had sucked out of me, it should hold for a while.

"Does it feel like it's going to fail?" Varro asked.

"No," I mumbled.

He nodded. "Then I think it will be fine, but Julius will help ensure that the ghoul doesn't escape. Go clean up. We can handle this."

"It is the least I can do after losing the ghoul in the first place," Julius said.

"Thank you, Julius." I smiled. "Varro, you said we didn't have much time. How much time are we talking about?"

"We should finish the spells and be ready for action by one in the morning." Varro spoke to me but kept his eyes on Elron.

I nodded, as did Elron. Turning to Elron, I softly asked, "Could you help me up? I'm afraid I've gotten stiff while sitting here."

Elron hoisted me to my feet, and I bit back a groan. What the fall hadn't bruised, the tussle with the ghoul had. As he helped me up the stairs, I called over my shoulder, "Thank you, Ty. You were a good boy. Have fun, but keep watch."

Ty snorted loudly and started around the corner of the lodge. Varro and Julius followed him, carefully rolling the ghoul-filled shield. The ghoul had finally gotten the hang of being rolled and was crawling forward with the movement of the sphere.

"Do you have any healing charms?" Elron asked.

"Yup." I'd made a fresh batch the other day. They were a necessity in my line of work, though until recently they'd been for colleagues and victims. Maybe when the demon was dead I could reduce my injury rate. There was nothing good about being beaten up, no matter how good the cause. Given the option, I'd rather solve problems in a way that didn't involve cuts or bruises. I didn't mind holding the line between criminals and the rest of the population, but being on the bleeding edge of the line wasn't fun.

"You should use one. The salve won't treat all your injuries."

I wanted to argue, inform him that I wasn't injured and didn't need to be healed, but I couldn't. My leg had tightened up enough that it was a struggle to set it on the next step. Elron sighed, lifted me up, and carried me to the top of the stairs.

Swallowing what remained of my pride, I spoke softly. "Thank you. I thought I was in better shape than this."

"You always do."

"Would you mind getting a charm out of my workroom while I shower? The top right drawer of the old card catalog has the low-powered charms."

"Card catalog?" Elron asked as we made it through the front door and started down the hall.

It was hard to know what he would and wouldn't recognize. I'd thought the card catalog might be old enough to stir a memory, but I didn't really know when they'd been common.

"It's a wooden cabinet with small drawers, each slightly larger than your palm. There are four drawers across and six down. Each one has a handle and a small label." That should be enough information. It was the only thing in my office with that many drawers.

"I shall find the charm." He frowned as his pace slowed. "How did the ghoul attack you?"

That was a question I hadn't wanted to answer. He wouldn't like the explanation, and I didn't need a scolding. I fixed my eyes on a painting at the end of the hall. "Well, I was riding Ty when it tackled me. It must've climbed up a tree or something. Anyway, it knocked me off Ty, but I used a spell to soften my landing."

"Ty is thirteen feet tall." Elron's words were clipped and his voice tight.

"Yes, he is. I need to get a helmet." The words slipped out before I could think better of them.

"A helmet?"

"A harness or saddle would be good too. There isn't much to hold on to up there." I was already in trouble; a bit more honesty wouldn't make it any worse.

He took a few deep breaths, and after a long exhale said, "Are you planning on riding Ty in the future?"

"Yup. Kids with big pet dogs ride them. People have been riding donkeys, horses, and mules for thousands of years. If they'd had pet dinosaurs, they would've ridden them too. It is perfectly safe to ride Ty. He's smart, understands what I say, and isn't prone to spooking." All very logical, but I was betting my parents wouldn't buy that argument, which was why I didn't plan on mentioning it until after Gremory was dead. Compared to fighting a demon, riding a T. rex was nothing.

"This is why you are an only child," Elron muttered as we walked into my apartment. "Will you be able to bathe yourself?"

"Absolutely. I'll be back in a few minutes." When I limped into my room, Elron was shaking his head and rubbing his temples, but I thought I saw a hint of a smile.

Uncomfortable showers were becoming a trend, and this was no exception. It did relax the angry muscles and clean the cuts. As careful as I was, putting on clothes managed to aggravate every one of my injuries. My hands were too cut up to make braiding my hair comfortable, so I brushed it and left it hanging, which left damp spots on my shirt.

I sat on my bed and called Wells. He should be a part of the night's activities.

"Oaks, what do you need?"

"We're going to kill the demon in the morning, early morning. I thought you'd want to be here." My voice was soft and heavy. The waiting and worrying was about to come to an end.

"What time?"

"Be here at midnight."

"Midnight tonight?" Wells asked.

"Yes, just over eight hours from now at Landa's Lodge."

"I'll be there." He hung up before I could reply. I couldn't blame him; it hadn't really been a social call.

I tried not to look worried when I left my room. Elron had his own concerns and didn't need any of mine. As soon as I walked out of the bedroom, Elron handed me the charm. I rubbed it against a cut that was still oozing to activate it, then tucked it in my pocket. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. Would you like something to eat? I took the liberty of fetching dinner." Elron motioned to the table.

"Thank you. Food would be good." I followed him to the table where Varro and Julius were fixing plates.

We ate in silence. It wasn't intentional; there was simply nothing we could discuss without ruining the meal. Varro was deteriorating before our eyes. He had transitioned from wiry strength to a frail old man. I could see worry and fatigue around his mouth and eyes. Julius was more difficult to read because I hadn't studied gargoyle faces, but there was something in the way he moved. There was fear, but he was mostly determined. Elron was lost in thought, his hand robotically moving food from the plate to his mouth. I didn't have to read his face to know what was going through his mind. There was Sylvia, Gremory, Varro, myself, and concern that he wouldn't be able to cope with the outcome.

I was glad I couldn't see my face. The feelings inside were more than enough to keep me occupied. There was fear, determination, and a healthy dose of avoidance. The best thing I could do for my peace of mind was to ignore the potentially deadly events looming on the horizon. When the time came, I would do my job to the very best of my ability, and that was the most anyone could ask of me.

We finished eating and cleared the table before returning to our seats. When this was finished, I might need to paint the table and change the art, give this area a new look so it didn't remind me of the unhappiness.

Varro rapped his knuckles on the table. "The ghoul has been situated in a clearing out of sight of the house. Before you protest"—he looked at me—"should it get loose, one of us would feel it and it will return to kill Michelle. With that, it is time to discuss the abilities Julius has to offer."

I kept my mouth shut. His logic was sound; so far the ghouls had been persistent in their murderous tendencies.

"I don't have Varro's experience, but I am familiar with creatures demons can bring to the fight and will be able to combat them. Fey and elves may be difficult hosts, but demons can't take a gargoyle as their host. Another ability of ours is that we can see the spirit. I will be able to tell when the demon is dead."

I swallowed. Well, that would come in handy.

Chapter 18: Elron

We took time to rest, or I presumed the rest of the group was resting. Sleep did not find me, and my thoughts were less than enjoyable company. Upon hearing movement in Michelle's bedroom, I softly rapped on the door and heard an equally soft, "Enter."

I stepped inside and asked, "Did I wake you?"

"No." Michelle sat up and pushed her hair out of her face. "Are you okay?"

"No. I cannot sleep."

"Neither can I," Michelle whispered. "My brain won't stop long enough for me to fall asleep. I keep thinking of what I need to do and what could go wrong. Maybe when I'm battle hardened like Varro I can fall asleep on command."

"I haven't been in enough battles to acquire that ability." I walked over and sat down next to her bed. This was what I had been missing, the calm that washed over me when I was near her. Tonight would change many things, and this was one of them. One way or another, Michelle mattered, and I needed her in my life.

"I'm scared."

"Why?" I asked.

"What we're about to do is dangerous, and I don't want to see any of us hurt. Even if we get through the night without a mishap, we won't be the same because this is a night that will affect us for years to come. I've said it enough that it's beginning to lose its power, but a demon isn't to be taken lightly." She paused, rolled onto her side, and reached a hand over the ends of the bed.

I took her hand in mine. "We will make it through this. When dawn comes, I will be here to help and comfort you."

"What if you need help?"

"I am sure you would come to my aid. No matter what happens, I am here to stay." The words sounded hollow to my ears. Although they were heartfelt, I knew it would be a difficult promise to keep. The night would hurt me, and the potential for physical injury was not my largest concern.

"I hope so. Let's get some sleep." Michelle pulled an extra blanket off the chest at the foot of her bed and handed it to me along with a pillow. "Good night, Elron." She settled against the bed, and her breathing deepened.

My arm was numb when her fingers slid off mine. I rearranged myself into a more comfortable position, relaxing even though I wasn't falling asleep. The Call was showing no sign of abating, leading me to believe that Sylvia would not be my end. Its unrelenting pressure gave me hope that the future would be better than the present.

I couldn't see myself without Michelle, in adventure or quiet moments in the house. It had always been her. The dream came back in a rush, the moments with the hummingbirds, the kiss, and the conversation.

Sitting up, I kissed the back of her hand, careful not to wake her. Lying back down, I let the emotions wash over me. Yes, it had always been Michelle, and I owed her an equally magical evening that was firmly based in reality. It hardly counted as a date if my subconscious cut it short.

Looking back, it was clear—everything had been part of the journey, but my travels were far from over. I needed to stay sane and healthy through the coming events if I wanted to be with Michelle. There was no way around it; the coming days would determine if I had a future with her, and most of it hinged on me.

I had to be strong enough to face Sylvia, Gremory, my past choices, and the slew of emotions that I would find in the morning light. I had to get through this, not just to have a chance at being with Michelle, but because I needed to be my best before I could find my happy ending.

Chapter 19: Michelle

Wells spotted me as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. He took the spot next to me, got out of the car, and quickly put on his jacket, gloves, and hat. Thermos dangling from his fingers, he walked over to me and shook my hand.

"Thanks for the invitation," he said.

"No problem. I thought you'd want to see the end." I fumbled for the right words.

Wells nodded. "I'll be glad to help, or stay out of the way, whatever works for y'all."

"We'll figure it out. This way." I guided him around the corner of the lodge, through the garden, and into the woods. We made it to the clearing with minor injuries, and I only tripped over three roots and one rock.

The ghoul was right where it had been on my last trip out here, slightly off center in the clearing, sitting in the opalescent sphere, playing with its fingers. It detached its pinkies and tossed one in the air before tossing the second. It made it through a few rounds of juggling and managed to add a ring finger before it fumbled a catch.

The moon cast enough light for me to see the look of disgust on Wells's face. If I never saw another ghoul again for my entire life, I'd be a happy girl. Between the rotted flesh hanging off the bones and their attitude, they were repulsive creatures.

I saw Varro and Julius coming out of the woods with Elron trailing behind them and called out, "Varro, Julius, would you like to meet Detective Wells?"

The men came over, and we rushed through introductions so we could focus on the important thing—like killing a demon. Varro and then Elron stepped forward and shook Wells's hand. As they exchanged pleasantries, Julius took flight. He'd volunteered to keep watch from the air and would be running interference with any of Gremory's creatures.

The men moved off, and I turned to Wells. "Would you mind staying here while I prepare spells? I'll need you to stay outside the clearing because some of these spells are delicate. If you have any questions, I'll be glad to answer."

"Do your job, Oaks. I'll be fine," Wells said.

I nodded and turned to walk away.

"Thank you for the invitation," he added.

Flashing a smile, I said, "No problem. Besides, I knew you'd want proof that the demon was dead."

He saluted me with the thermos and took a swig of coffee.

My pack was a few feet to the left and hidden under a holly bush. I avoided the sharp leaves as I extracted the backpack. Once I retrieved both of the half-gallon mason jars, I made my way to the center of the circle.

This was a tricky part, not because it was difficult but because it had to be done by memory. In the center of the clearing, I stripped off my glove, slid on a different glove made from purified cloth, and grabbed a handful of salt. This wasn't regular table salt but a mixture of finely ground salt and herbs, including powdered demon's bane. It would serve as the base of the spell used to capture and contain the demon. While it was possible to cast the spell without using the salt foundation, it would be more difficult and power intensive.

Starting in the middle of the clearing, I sprinkled thin lines of salt in overlapping circles, including one that surrounded the ghoul but left enough room for someone to stand next to the undead. It was tedious and challenging to remember where the circles were and intersect them without scuffing a line. When I'd finished laying small circles inside the clearing, I laid a circle around the clearing. This would be the first circle I cast, trapping Gremory even if I couldn't get him in a smaller circle. It wouldn't be ideal because he'd still have a lot of room to move around, and we wanted to avoid including the ghoul in the target area.

Varro had stressed how important it was to get Gremory in a small area. One of us, mostly likely Julius, would have to deliver the killing blow, and if that person had to enter the circle to kill Gremory, they stood a good chance of becoming a victim of the spells. The smaller circles would keep Gremory within sword's reach no matter how he dodged and shifted.

I returned the two empty mason jars to my backpack, took a sip from my thermos, and dug around for the next supplies. A vial of demon's bane went into my pocket, as did index cards with the spells written out, and two healing charms. After some debate, I strapped my spare wand to my arm. It wasn't something I wanted to use; the one Elron had given me was superior, but I didn't plan on being unarmed today.

Hands in gloves and tucked under my arms, I joined Elron, Varro, and Wells. As soon as my fingers limbered up, it would be time to cast the first spell, and like everything I would be attempting tonight, a misstep would be problematic. Varro had been frustratingly vague on what the challenges might be, only mentioning that many Hunters had died doing what we were about to attempt, and their deaths had not been pleasant. Considering what he'd seen in his life, I didn't want to experience anything he considered an unpleasant end.

"Are you ready?" Varro asked.

Elron's lips pursed and he nodded. I shook out my hands, summoned my wand, and shrugged.

"Nothing would make me feel like I'm ready, but I'm as prepared and willing as I'm going to get. Does Julius know we are starting?" I asked. For a moment I hoped Varro would fall down laughing about how this was some elaborate joke and demons didn't exist, but that didn't happen because this was real. I had to be at my best, not because Varro was counting on me, but because the children in the morgue were going to have company if I failed.

"I've been warned," Julius said as he tucked his wings and dropped to the ground.

I said a quick prayer, asking the earth for help. Raising my hand, I started writing runes in the air and whispering more under my breath. With each rune, the spell got stronger, taking on the desired shape and form. As the minutes passed, the men didn't move, each of them completely focused on my work. Varro had drilled me on this spell, but I hadn't been able to put it together until now, and it felt different—bigger and hungrier. When we were practicing, he'd told me he'd know if I did the spell incorrectly, so I could only hope no news was good news.

After sketching and saying the last rune, I held my breath. The spell wiggled and shifted before forming. It anchored itself in the clearing, and a line of magic shot out, heading for Ellijay. The line pulled taut, and the anchor flexed but held firm in the center of the clearing.

"Well done, Michelle," Varro said. "I have rarely seen better. Now, we need to settle into our hiding spots and wait for Gremory. Julius will be keeping watch from the sky. Questions?"

"Where am I going?" Wells asked.

"You're with me," I said.

Wells nodded.

"If there aren't any other questions, it's time to find your places, and good luck." When none of us said anything, Varro nodded, walked away, and blended into the woods by his fifth step.

When Varro was gone, Julius took off, and in seconds his wingbeats had faded away.

Elron gave me a mysterious look as he followed Varro into the night. I shook it off because I couldn't think about his moods or problems right now. My attention had to be on this moment and my part in Gremory's death. What I didn't need to think about was my part in Sylvia's death.

"We're over here." I looked in the opposite direction of Elron and Varro. Twenty feet away, a fallen tree and a holly bush would conceal us while providing a good view of the clearing.

Wells took the holly bush, and I settled under the tree. There was nothing to do but stay alert. Most days I'd pass the time with idle thoughts, but none of mine were idle enough. They hinged on what would happen tonight, and dwelling on the ways this could go wrong wasn't helpful. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at focusing on other things, I gave up and did my best to think about the sounds, smells, and look of the surrounding area. Once I had a good feel for things, I started looking for changes. It was harder than it sounded, because every leaf or bump could look different with the slightest flutter of wind.

The sluggish passing of time came to a rapid end when a shape moved on the edge of the clearing. As I watched, the form moved around, stepping into the moonlight. Sylvia, and presumably Gremory, had arrived. I was too far away to see her eyes, so I couldn't be sure that the demon was in charge, but Sylvia didn't have a reason to be here unless Gremory was in the driver's seat. After examining the ghoul and the clearing, Sylvia stepped out of the trees.

My stomach clenched. She needed to take two more steps to be inside the first circle, and I had to be lucky enough for the line of salt be intact. This was the circle that had to go up without a hitch or she could escape. Sylvia shifted from foot to foot, the line of magic still connecting her to the anchor and drawing her into the clearing.

She took three steps forward.

I twisted my hand and felt the wand settle into my grip. Jabbing the wand at the circle, I cast the spell. "Alkaz a esaz en sowil kannu."

It came into being full-fledged and ready to hold Gremory in place. My heaving chest had to be from stress, because the spell hadn't been difficult to cast. I watched as Sylvia knelt down, inspecting the ground, running her fingers over it and sniffing the residue, then touching it to her tongue. I wasn't sure that touching the demon's-bane-laced salt would do the trick.

"I wondered how you did it, but never could get anyone to talk." The voice wasn't the same as the one I'd heard when she was in my dreams, but it was identical to the one I'd heard when I saw her at Adder's house. Sylvia's body was here, but Gremory was in control. Gremory stood up and started kicking at the leaves around her, destroying the circles of salt in that area. She continued her destruction, shuffling through the leaves as she moved, breaking all the salt circles I'd laid.

Varro had instructed me to stay put until I had Gremory captured in a smaller circle, but he hadn't included any directions for this scenario. He had specifically recommended that I refrain from casting the containment spell without a foundation. I'd have to find Varro to get any information from him, which was easier said than done considering I'd be looking for a fey in the woods.

Gremory was still kicking leaves and occasionally the shield bubble holding the ghoul. Each time a glare and kick landed on the bubble, the ghoul cowered against the opposite wall. Lucky for us, I'd had enough foresight to anchor the spell to that spot so it couldn't roll around. The demon wouldn't have been able push it into the woods due to the containment spell around the clearing, but we didn't need the distraction of the ghoul rolling around.

The demon was walking around the ghoul to kick a leaf pile when an arrow came through the wall of the containment spell. With a violent jerk to the side, the demon managed to avoid a direct hit. The arrow tore through Sylvia's upper arm, taking a chunk of flesh and leaving blood running down her arm.

That was one of the arrows Varro had laced with demon's bane. I wasn't sure how he'd treated it since I'd been busy prepping spells at the time, but hopefully some of the demon's bane on the arrow got into her.

A harsh laugh escaped her lips. "It will take more than a small wound to stop me."

I watched as a scab formed over the area and the bleeding stopped. That had to be a power of Gremory's because elves didn't heal like that. Wells's expression confirmed that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. Varro had said getting demon's bane into a demon could be more difficult than it sounded, but this had gone well. I vanished my wand since I wouldn't be casting again right away.

Motioning for Wells to follow me, I started moving us closer to where I thought Varro and Elron were hiding. This was a team effort, and it wouldn't do for me to make choices without them, especially when I didn't know what I was doing. Leaves crunched to our left and I froze. The moon cast enough light for me to move around but not enough for me to see what was hiding among the trees.

"Who's there?" I whispered.

Three small shapes charged around a pine tree. Between their size and the hissing, the gremlins were easy enough to identify. Two tackled my legs, and one tried to grab Wells. He snatched it up by the scruff of the neck, got his other hand on it, switched his grip, and broke its neck.

One of the gremlins was trying to gnaw through one of my boots, and the other was scaling my leg like it was a tree, digging sharp claws into my flesh. Snatching the one at my knee, I froze it before dropping it to the ground. Then I kicked the ankle-biter off and froze it too before it could resume its assault.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, but I'm tired of gremlins."

"Me too." As we continued to Elron and Varro, I kept my eyes moving and my ears sharp. There were more gremlins and probably other nasties out here. In Gremory's shoes, I would've brought as many allies as I could muster.

I heard a few wingbeats and ducked, but it was Julius coming in for a landing.

"I found a group of twenty or so gremlins about a half mile away and turned them to stone. There may be more, but I didn't see them."

"We found three. One's dead and the other two are frozen." I shrugged. "We can deal with them in small numbers. Do you know where the men are?"

Julius's ears swiveled and his nose twitched. "They're nearby."

I didn't get a chance to ask another question because something tackled me, pushing me back several feet and landing on me hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs. While I tried to get some air back in my body, I got a look at the person on top of me. The night and moon obscured the details, but he was a slender, gangly man, with light hair and a beak of a nose.

As I sucked in my first breath, I could hear Wells scrambling forward and Julius taking to the air. The man rolled us away from Wells, bouncing the two of us over rocks, sticks, roots, and a few things I didn't want to identify. Even with multiple layers of clothes, I was going to be bruised and scratched. Jeans and thermal underwear weren't enough to keep pointy branches from finding my legs.

The man sat up, straddling me, and I pushed at him. He grabbed my left wrist, pulled my arm across my chest, and pinned it to my right bicep, limiting the use of my right hand. In the distance I could hear shouts, but when his right hand vanished behind his back, I thrashed harder. The hand reappeared holding a knife.

At least I thought it was a knife. It didn't do anything dramatic like shine in the moonlight, but I couldn't think of another item he would hold with that grip and while on top of me. He glanced around—maybe it was the shouts, or maybe he was looking for someone, but his attention returned to me before I had a chance to take advantage of his lapse.

The hand on my wrist tightened, and I took a deep breath, dug the left side of my body into the ground, and thrust up with the right, twisting my hips. As we rolled, his grip loosened and I pulled my hand out from under his, pushing and kicking him. I landed on my left side with my attacker about a foot and a half away. Before he could react, I scuttled backward, managing to back right into a tree and knock my head.

I blinked, trying to get the stars out of my eyes, and gasped when a dark shape loomed over me. Scrunching my eyes shut and opening them brought the shape into focus, and I could see Julius's blunt nose and curled horns.

"Michelle, cast a containment spell. You have to get up and cast the containment." Before I could gather my thoughts, taloned fingers gently gripped my arms and brought me to my feet. When he got me standing, he held one wing around me, cradling me against his body. "Cast a full containment, quickly, or all may be lost."

I didn't bother to ask why, simply taking him at his word. Off to my right, Wells had his gun out, and the man was sitting on the ground, looking between the firearm and me. The stalemate wouldn't last long.

With a twist of my wrist, my wand landed in my hand, and I was grateful for the hours I'd spent practicing the move. I swallowed hard and began to speak, wishing I'd had more practice at casting this spell. It was a finicky bit of magic, and doing it without proper preparation could be the difference between success and failure. I finished the incantation with, "Obala o sowil en kannu, alkaz a esaz."

The spell yanked power from me, and I would've fallen without Julius. He held me as the spell took the energy it needed, stabilized, and left me trembling against the gargoyle. Julius lowered me to the ground, where I tucked my head between my knees, fighting off the nausea that came with the violent energy transfer.

"Are you okay?" Wells asked.

I was pretty sure the question was more of a formality, because there was no way on God's green earth that I could look okay. I croaked, "I've been better."

Wells rubbed my back. The motion helped the nausea abate, and I nodded my thanks.

"What was that?" I asked. The question wasn't directed at anyone in particular.

Julius held up a finger. "One moment."

Varro and Elron arrived in the clearing without so much as a broken branch to mark their passage. The woods loved me, but I didn't have that talent. Maybe Elron could teach it to me while he was making me practice with the staff. As soon as the thought entered my mind, I dismissed it. He'd once said I danced with mud, hardly a reference to an elegant creature capable of bounding through the forest with nary a sound.

The two of them looked around, and Elron dropped to the ground next to me, carefully tilting my face up so he could examine me. His fingers touched my cheek and came away bloody. Without a word, he rested his forehead against mine for a moment before getting up and returning to Varro's side.

"He has part of the demon inside him," Julius said. "I believe there was mention that Gremory splits his time between Sylvia and a male host."

Varro's eyebrows shot up, but the surprise didn't color his voice. "We must kill both of them."

Before this had time to sink in, Elron was standing next to the shielded man, blowing dust in his face. The man coughed and sputtered before getting his breathing under control. Elron waited a few seconds, during which the man's posture changed, then Elron was slashing his sword though the air and cutting the man's throat. Blood sprayed, collecting on the shield before dripping down the curved edge to pool on the ground.

"Can you do the second part of the spell?" Varro asked.

I wasn't sure why he asked. There wasn't much choice. Getting up seemed like too much work. Propping my elbow on my knee, I pointed the wand at the shield and said, "Laguz."

The color and texture of the spell changed, putting off more of a white light. When the spell settled down, I said, "Alkaz dagaz."

The body and debris on the ground burst into flames. Since the shield extended below the ground to complete the sphere, there was no danger of the flames spreading to the rest of the forest. The flames were magically enhanced, burning hot and fast. The shield kept everything inside, preventing the odor of burning flesh from reaching us.

"This doesn't need our attention for some time. We need to deal with the main body of the demon," Varro said.

"Should someone stay in case something goes wrong?" I asked.

"I would usually leave a guard, but Elron and yourself are needed to kill Gremory, Julius is needed in the air, and I will not leave Wells alone. It will be fine." Varro waited until each of us gave some type of acknowledgment before turning to move back to the clearing.

Julius helped me up, and Wells lent me a steadying shoulder for the short walk.

We gathered in a gap between two trees, a pine and a maple. Sylvia was moving around the clearing, flames in her eyes. Gremory should be bound to the flesh by the demon's bane and weakened by the death of his other host, making the rest of this rather simple. The ghoul continued to shrink away when Sylvia approached, and I decided right then to kill the poor thing and put it out of its misery at the first opportunity.

"What do we do now?" I asked. Varro's plan had been more of an outline, one that he explained was flexible and I'd call incomplete. Considering he was the only one with any actual experience, the rest of us could've used more direction and contingency plans rather than a conglomeration of associated goals.

"Kill her. There's enough demon's bane in her that the demon can't escape. One way or another, we will kill it tonight," Varro answered.

A whistle cut through the air, ending that debate. Beside me, Wells groaned and pulled out a knife. We knew that sound all too well, having become well acquainted with it just days ago. Julius had found more gremlins and was turning them to stone. Given the number of gremlins Gremory had managed to summon to the jail, I'd hoped there weren't many left in the area.

"Incoming," Julius bellowed as he swooped past us.

It would've been nice if he mentioned exactly what was incoming. I doubted gremlins were the only trick in Gremory's bag. There was some silent communication between the men, and I found myself in the center of an Elron, Varro, and Wells triangle.

"Can you cast another containment spell yet?" Varro asked.

"No, I need a few minutes." A few days would be better, but I could handle the energy transfer as soon as the trembling stopped. Tomorrow wouldn't be fun, but I'd never expected this to be a jolly good time.

"We will protect you. Get the spell up as soon as you can," Varro ordered.

Sylvia stopped moving and sat down in the center of the clearing. From this angle I couldn't tell if the flames were still in her eyes, but the steady attention in our direction was almost more intimidating than the striding back and forth.

I couldn't put up the second spell yet, but I could fiddle with this one to give us something to protect our backs. Taking a deep breath, I thought through my plan twice before I started. It wouldn't do to mess up the containment spell that was working.

"Laguz," I said, prodding the existing spell with my wand. With the slightest pull of energy, it accepted the new command. Even though I could feel the difference, I tested it by tossing a rock at the shield. It bounced off, coming to rest next to my foot.

"The shield is solid, nothing in or out. You can put your back to it," I informed them.

They barely had time to nod before gremlins started pouring out of the woods. The three of them started hacking away as Julius made passes, the high-pitched whistle turning gremlins to stone. Between the lack of light and the trees, Julius was unable to fully use his abilities. He couldn't get low enough to target precisely, and in the dim light saplings looked a lot like a gremlin.

"Michelle." Sylvia's voice came from inches behind me.

I spun around, wand ready, though what I was planning to do I couldn't say. That was one voice I'd never forget after the times it had made its way into my dreams.

Sylvia, with regular eyes, took a step back. "I didn't mean to startle you." She took a several breaths. "You need to cast the second spell and kill me."

"I can't, not yet." There was nothing I wanted more than to be done with this, but I didn't have the energy yet.

"Do it, Michelle. Gremory needs to die." She gave me a smile, equal parts sad and determined.

I couldn't agree more, but until things calmed down, I couldn't do it. Not only did I lack the energy, but I couldn't risk being interrupted by one of our attackers. During practice, Varro had said I was doing well, but this was a different situation, and I needed to be able to focus to make sure I got it right.

One of the men screamed, and I spun back to them. Elron was on the ground, a gash open across his upper chest, with a snarling werewolf over him, blood covering its paw. Before I could think better of it, I shot a bolt of power at the werewolf, knocking it tail over teakettle and off Elron. The wand warmed in my hand, tingling with energy. Energy I should be using to deal with Sylvia and Gremory, but I didn't have it in me to abandon Elron.

The wolf got to its feet, snarled, and backed up a few steps. I growled right back. Wells killed the last gremlin attacking him by cutting its neck, and Varro bisected his last two with one swipe of his knife.

Sylvia's voice rang out from behind me, but it was rougher and sultry. "You can't save them and kill me." The laugh was full throated and calculating. "That spell, the one you cast to bring me here, was good, but it needs some work. I couldn't figure out how the ghoul had only partly finished the job, but the unrelenting need to see for myself wouldn't abate, so I brought friends with me. Some of you are going to die. Maybe you'll take me with you, maybe not."

I didn't turn around this time. That was Gremory, doing his best to get into my head, and looking at him wouldn't change anything that was happening out here. I did take a few steps forward because even with the shield, it wasn't comfortable having Gremory at my back.

The wolf yipped and a second wolf answered with a growl. It came into sight, crouched with hackles raised. The two of them exchanged a look. My wand went from warm to hot, and I shot a bolt of power at each wolf. They stumbled and one of them sat down awkwardly, but it hadn't been enough energy to hurt them. Elron groaned; most of his jacket was wet with his blood. His hand clenched, as if to grab a weapon, but his sword was out of sight.

The wolf with the bloody paw leapt forward, and I threw enough power into the next blast to do some damage. The energy hit him in the shoulder, knocking him away from Elron. He hit the ground limply, the blast having burned through his fur and into the flesh of his shoulder.

While I'd been watching the first wolf, the second one had charged. It was in the air, ready to come down on Elron with all four feet and open jaws, when Varro tackled it, taking it to the ground. Elron jerked his feet to the side, making a sound I never wanted to hear come out of his mouth again, narrowly avoiding being the cushion for their landing.

The werewolf's jaws closed on Varro's arm, and the darkness couldn't obscure the way his arm bent under the pressure. Varro didn't make a sound; his other hand was busy sinking his knife into the creature's gut. Releasing Varro's mangled arm, the werewolf let out a pained howl that was cut off when Varro slit its throat.

The first gunshot echoed in my ears, or maybe the echo was the report of subsequent shots. While I'd been distracted by Varro, the other werewolf had taken the opportunity to attack Elron, but he didn't get so much as a toenail on him because Wells shot him. The first shot hit him in the shoulder, and he stumbled but didn't stop moving forward.

The second shot went into his side, and he slowed, breathing labored, and favoring his right foreleg. The werewolf switched to an easier target, getting a mouthful of Varro's shoulder. This time Varro screamed.

Varro twisted, trying to use his good side to get the knife into the werewolf, but the angle and pain made it difficult. The knife slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. The werewolf took advantage of the situation and sank down, digging his teeth deeper into the meat where neck turns to shoulder. I didn't need to hear the crunch to know Varro's collarbone was broken.

None of this slowed Wells down in the slightest. While the werewolf continued tearing into Varro, Wells put two more bullets into his side. When that didn't end things, Wells calmly walked up to the werewolf and started aligning his next shot. The werewolf never noticed Wells selecting the best angle, one where the shot would go in to the werewolf's head without hitting Varro. Once Wells found it, the bullet took out part of the werewolf's skull.

Two kicks later, the wolf was clear of Varro, and Wells put two more shots into its head just to make sure. Personally, I never wanted to see that much brain matter again in my entire life. It must not have bothered Wells, because he repeated the process with the other werewolf. I couldn't blame him for wanting to do something less reversible than a slit throat, especially when I saw its chest move, and it attempted to nip Wells.

I stumbled over to Elron, activating a healing charm before I got a good look at him. When I set the charm on his chest, he winced, but the moon wasn't casting enough light for me to see him clearly. Glaring at a pinecone dangling from an overhead branch I hissed, "Wonho."

It brightened instantly, making me see spots. When my eyes adjusted, there was enough light for me to see Elron clearly. His shirt was coated in blood, and the charm was partly in a deep laceration that went into the muscle of his chest. I moved it to a less injured part of him and picked the cloth out of the rest of his wounds. The slashed-open flesh and muscle tissue I could see were bad enough, but what really bothered me were the bits of bone.

When the cloth wasn't in danger of impeding any healing the charm managed, I kissed him on the forehead and went to Varro. Wells had arranged the fey's left side into a more natural posture, but there was no denying the damage. My remaining healing charm went to Varro. I doubted it was strong enough to repair the damage, but it did help with the pain, and I could see him relax as it took effect.

Looking at Wells, I mouthed, "Thank you."

He nodded. I hoped he understood. What little energy I had left had to go to killing Gremory. Even if I'd been fast enough to cast spells that could've saved Elron and Varro, we would've been stuck with the demon in a cage and no way to kill him.

I hoped I could remember that tomorrow. This pain wasn't my fault. The main part of my job was yet to come, and I would need every bit of strength left in my body to accomplish those tasks.

"Michelle, call Julius back, finish it. Turn me so I may watch," Varro gasped.

"Of course." I kissed his cheek, and Wells and I shifted him as he stifled grunts.

"You have fire." Varro smiled.

"Shh, let me finish this, then we can talk."

"There won't be time. Don't lose the fire."

"I won't," I promised. Varro looked like death would be coming for him. It wasn't just the wounds, which were bad enough, but the texture of his skin, the fatigue in his eyes, and the yearning in his voice. I sent the magical equivalent of a flare into the air in case Julius hadn't heard the gunshots.

Varro's eyes drifted closed, and I hurried over to Elron. As I knelt next to him, I asked, "How are you doing?"

"The charm helped. Thank you." His wound, which stretched over his heart to his gut, didn't look much better.

"I need to finish this. Do you want to watch?" Part of me hoped he would decline, but I knew that wasn't going to be his answer.

"Yes, help me…" He sounded weak, but between his own pained movement and a helping hand, he was quickly propped up against the tree trunk.

Julius came down through the trees, taking in the carnage as he landed. The pinecone was still emitting a bright light, and we looked all the worse for it, including the gargoyle. His wings drooped, and the lines around his eyes were deeper than before.

"Can you tell me when the demon is dead?" I asked.

"Yes," Julius answered as he turned his attention to Sylvia.

It made me feel better that he didn't ask if we were okay or spend precious time assessing the wounds. He put his attention in the most vital area. The faster we dealt with Gremory, the faster we could tend Varro and Elron. Wells probably had some injuries too.

Turning to Sylvia was harder than it should've been since I knew the stakes. It hurt to take my eyes off the men; part of me was afraid that I'd turn around and they'd both be dead. The rest of me knew Varro would be dead.

Sylvia was standing inches from the shield, hand raised as if she could reach out and touch us. At my movement, her attention shifted from Elron to me. "I need a moment, then it's time."

"I won't wait long." The truth was that I couldn't wait. While my power would regenerate over time, I was fighting fatigue, stress, and sorrow, which would sap my strength and weaken my control.

She focused on her husband. "Elron, do not mourn. This was always going to be my path. I regret nothing but the pain it has caused you." Her eyes were clear, free of Gremory's flames.

"If I had kept my vows, gone with you, it could have been different," Elron rasped, tears running down his face.

"You have never broken a vow to me."

Elron's eyes darted to me.

Sylvia followed his gaze and smiled softly. "Oh, Elron. We were done long ago; do not harbor guilt on that count. If you had come with me that day, you would've died."

Flames stole her eyes, and the tone of her voice changed. "Poor Elron, always one step behind and too slow."

Elron tensed, and Wells stepped closer, flanking Julius and me.

Sylvia's own eyes returned, and the hard lines on her face softened. "Don't listen to him. You've done well, and there is more to come. You need to be ready."

"Ready for what?" I asked, trembling with the effort of maintaining the spell.

"Ready. The Call will help, but both of you need to be ready." Sylvia started to tremble. "Take the diary apart. It explains."

The shaking intensified until she couldn't stay on her feet, limbs twitching uncontrollably. Sylvia stilled and made it to her feet in one smooth movement before tossing her head back and laughing.

The sound made the few hairs on the back of my neck that were still down stand up. That wasn't Sylvia.

"Michelle, do the next stage of the spell," Varro ordered.

I didn't argue. I gave the containment spell new commands so it would take the energy, growing stronger and creating a void where the demon had been. When the spell was complete, I set the clearing ablaze with a cleansing fire that would purify as it burned.

"Do you think this will be the end of me? We are eternal. We have been here since the beginning, and we will be here in the end. This isn't over. It's never over. Your actions won't be forgotten, Michelle. We won't forget." The smirk was what did it. Gremory honestly believed this wasn't the end of this fight.

"What do you mean we, Gremory?" I screamed.

"Exactly what you think," he shouted back.

"Are there more of you? Do other demons still walk this earth?" We would've been nose to nose if the shield hadn't been between us.

The blaze picked up, burning through Sylvia's leather boots, smoke filling the air. Gremory took several steps back. "We are eternal."

"You aren't eternal if you can die." I fed power into the flames, making them burn hotter and faster. It was time for Gremory to understand the difference between hard to kill and immortal.

The smirk faded from Gremory's face and the flames faded from Sylvia's eyes. The next words were in Sylvia's voice. "This is my path."

Not knowing what else to do, I gave a cautious answer. "Yes, it is."

The flames found a new layer of organic matter to burn, and the smoke began to obscure the view. Behind Sylvia, the flesh and clothing had burned off the ghoul, leaving bones behind. Most fires might not hurt the bones too much, but the magical fire would turn them to dust.

Sylvia stepped into the heart of the flames and stood there, flesh burning, a smile on her face. I didn't know if the smoke or pain got to her, but I was relieved to see her pass out and drop to ground. It was hard enough to watch her burn while she was unaware, but it would've been unbearable if she'd been awake.

The fire slowly died down, leaving nothing inside but ash and dust. The shield continued to gather energy, glowing more brightly. The light was intense enough to make looking at it difficult, and I was forced to look away before I damaged my eyes.

Elron's face was as soaked with tears as his chest was with blood, and he was squinting through his lashes in an effort to keep his eyes on what was left of Sylvia. Varro had closed his eyes, but I knew he'd observed the most important part.

Inside the shield felt empty. It didn't have a taste of power, life, or anything else. It had become an empty shell, holding the last remains of Sylvia, Gremory, and the ghoul.

"Gremory is gone," Julius said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. I didn't feel anything over there, but I couldn't see demons the way he could.

"Yes, you can do the last part," he answered.

I had the spell narrow along ground level, scooting the ash and dust into a pile. With a few words, the spell went down, feeding the energy back into the earth. Air swirled around us as it rushed to fill the vacuum. The force of the air pulled and tugged, dragging me forward. After a few steps, I planted my feet and the wind abated. Julius moved forward to look around, and I dug in the bushes until I found my bag, grabbed a couple of large mason jars, and a followed the gargoyle.

Inside the clearing was different than I'd expected. It didn't have a smell, and any life that had been stuck in here with Sylvia was dead. At the pile of ashes, I dumped out the mason jar of salt, mixing it in with a finger. I scooped up as much of the ashes as I could, filling the jars.

When I finished with the clearing, Julius and I marched through the woods to the site where we found the now cool remains of the man. This shield wasn't as bright and quickly flowed back into the earth. His ashes were also sown with salt and shoved into another jar. All the jars were returned to my backpack, and I was grateful that I'd overprepared for cleanup.

Back at the clearing, I found Wells pocketing his spent brass, Elron unconscious on the ground, and Varro taking ragged breaths. I sat next to Varro, holding his good hand in mine, but the icy feel wasn't encouraging.

"We did it… we killed the demon."

His lips moved in a slight smile.

I cleared my throat, trying not to cry. "It wouldn't have happened without you. You've given us the ability to fight back. I won't forget that, and I'll make sure the knowledge is preserved so it can be used in the future."

"You'll do. That boy, Elron, will do too, he just needs to sort through things." Three ragged breaths later, Varro was gone.

Elron was awake, looking at the two of us and crying. I sat there, clutching Varro's hand like it would bring him back, tears running down my face.

Chapter 20: Michelle

The three of us couldn't figure out how to get Elron and Varro back to the lodge without making two trips. I didn't have it in me to cast any spells, and I had to take the backpack full of demon ashes with me, which didn't leave a lot of me to help move Elron. Wells could help with one of the men, but he couldn't take both of them. Julius was strong enough to carry Varro, but he couldn't do it walking on his hind legs.

In the end, Julius flew back to the lodge to get help. He returned with Landa, Mander, and surprisingly Paxton, who was braving the first hints of dawn. Mander gave me a hug and took the backpack from me. After Paxton picked up Varro, Wells and I got Elron on his feet.

It was a slow walk home that felt like a funeral procession, which was appropriate given the circumstances. Landa and Mander led the way, frequently looking back to check on us. Paxton walked behind him, with Varro's broken body in his arms. Julius soared overhead, keeping an eye on us.

The trees dipped their branches to touch Varro and tucked their roots under the soil to give us a better path. Even the rocks moved to the side, and we traveled a smooth path, always wide enough for three abreast, through the woods.

I lost track of time, vacillating between sorrow, despair, and detachment. The last one was the best because I didn't have to feel the slew of emotions the night had unearthed, and I could simply be in the moment. It was too much to take in at once, and there was more to be done before I could rest and start to see what was left of my life now that Gremory was gone.

When we got back to the lodge, Elron stayed awake while Landa cleared off my altar and Paxton laid Varro on the stone. The two of them arranged him into a position that masked much of the damage. They stepped back, and Mander moved forward. He took a small handful of dirt and sprinkled it on top of the fey. The wind picked up, clearing the earth off him, and the trees swayed. The protections snapped to life, keeping Varro's body cool and untouched until we could return for the funeral.

Under Landa's orders, Paxton took Elron from me. Mander held the doors open as the four of them vanished into Elron's apartment. I picked up the backpack Mander had left at my feet and motioned for Wells to follow me. In my apartment, I set the backpack in my workroom and tried to find the right words.

Wells shook his head. "We can talk about it later. By then both of us will have had the time to process."

"Thank you. Not just for being understanding, but for everything you did tonight." It was the best I could do.

"You're welcome. Get some rest." Wells tipped his head in my direction and slipped out the door.

For a moment, I stood there, trying to figure out if I'd said the right things. Fatigue and the nasty smells clinging to me forced me into action. My shoes were the only thing I removed before getting in the shower. My clothing got a light wash on the floor of my shower, and I scrubbed at myself until I couldn't see a speck of dirt or smell anything but soap.

I was naked when someone knocked on my door. Yelling for them to hold on, I hurried to pull on my favorite pajamas, the ones that seemed to keep the world at bay when life had been mean. My slippered feet were quiet as I crossed to the front door.

"Landa, what do you need?" My words were directed at her, but my eyes were stuck on Elron, who was clean and wearing pants, thick socks, bandages, and a robe loosely tied around his middle. Paxton was smiling slightly as he held up Elron.

"Can he stay with you? He shouldn't be alone with a wound like that." Landa motioned in Elron's direction.

"Um, sure," I stammered. Stepping back from the door, I tried to figure out why Elron would need to stay with me. There had to be a better person to watch over him.

Landa came in, bedding floating behind her, and Paxton slowly guided Elron forward. Landa went to my sofa, moving pillows and tucking sheets over the cushions. When it had been prepared to her satisfaction, Paxton helped Elron lie down. Landa quickly stocked the coffee table with water, crackers, nuts, dried fruit, and two biscuits.

While this was going on, I stood off to the side, baffled at the turn of events. The elf whose wife I'd just killed was on my sofa with my neighbor and landlord offering snacks. It was one more turn of events that I didn't know how to manage.

"He'll be fine. You did the right thing with the healing charm, but it will take some time for him to be back to his normal tricks." Paxton patted me on the shoulder and left.

I walked over to the sofa and got a good look at Elron. He looked better than he had in the woods, but the silver hair and white bandages didn't do anything to help his skin tone.

"He's ready to nap, which is what you should be doing. I'll come check on both of you at lunch, and I'll bring food. Michelle, don't poison the poor boy, and Elron, you need to stay in bed and rest." Landa went from lightly scolding to somber. "We'll be holding Varro's funeral this afternoon."

"We'll be there." I answered for both of us because I didn't have to ask to know Elron would want to pay his respects. On the sofa, Elron nodded.

Landa patted Elron's hand. "I know you will. When the two of you feel better, I'd like to know when you were blessed by Leshy Apalchen. Eat and get some rest."

I gave her a funny look, but she didn't see it as she hurried out of the room, probably to go cook breakfast for the rest of the residents and guests. Life at the lodge didn't grind to a halt because of a death and a few injuries.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" he whispered, taking shallow breaths.

"I don't mind at all. You're always welcome here." It was true, but I couldn't help but wonder why he wanted to be around me right now. There had to be someone whose presence didn't bring up painful feelings.

"Thank you. I needed to be here."

I sat on the floor next to his head, afraid that perching on the edge of the sofa would hurt him. "Why here? Why now?"

Elron sighed. "I need time to settle my feelings, get past what has occurred, but I need to be with you. I had to be here because it's always been you. If I remember correctly, I owe you a date. It will have to wait, but it will be special."

To keep my hands from trembling, I clasped them together. My voice wobbled. "You remember?"

He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. "Every second."

The rest of my questions could wait. I grabbed his hand and held on as I cried happy tears. When I dried my eyes, he was starting to drift off, but he was alert enough to smile when I scooted the coffee table to the side and made a pallet next to him. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but I had the most important thing next to me.

We didn't awaken until Landa knocked on the door, lunch tray in hand. Lunch was quiet, the morning joy overshadowed by the night's events. Not so deep down, I knew Elron had been serious when he said he needed time. He needed lots of time and space, and so did I.

Last night I'd killed a person and a demon. The demon didn't bother me, but I couldn't un-see Sylvia burning. That was something I needed to find a way to live with. It wasn't as simple as having done the right thing, which I had, but being able to accept the consequences of that choice.

Taking a life shouldn't be easy, even when the person begged you to kill them, but I'd done it, and the truth was I'd come close to killing before and stepped back. Elron or Liam had been there to do it for me, saving me from making the decision. It was a position I never imagined I'd be in, one where that death was the best choice, not because it saved me but because it saved other people.

Sylvia had to die for Gremory to die. Gremory had to be killed so I didn't have to look at the body of another child and know that I had allowed their death. For a split second, I was back in that morgue, with all the bodies around me, looking at children who should've been playing in their tree houses or racing their bikes.

I didn't feel good about Sylvia's death, but I felt better knowing what I'd prevented. Gremlins wouldn't be attacking jails, trolls wouldn't be eating people, bird-women wouldn't be cutting up dwarfs, baby dragons wouldn't be kidnapped, and children wouldn't die. Feeling good about taking a life wasn't going to happen, but if I could go back in time and kill Sylvia and Gremory before they caused all that pain, I'd do it, no questions asked.

Landa pushed open the door and said, "It's time."

Chapter 21: Elron

Standing on my own hurt. The wound from the werewolf would take days to heal, and until it did, each breath, twitch, cough, and turn would hurt. Michelle had used a second healing charm on me with limited effects. I'd declined additional charms. It would be days before she was up to producing more, and time would do the trick.

The events were still fresh enough that I had not had time to process all of them. That disconnect was giving me time to find perspective without being completely overcome. The pain in my chest was a good distraction as well. There was only so much obsessing I could do when I hurt this much.

She stood beside me, paler and thinner than she'd been yesterday. On Michelle's other side, her mother kept a close eye on her, darting the occasional assessing look in my direction. Her father kept his eyes forward, but I wasn't fooled; most of his attention was on his daughter. With the cold wind biting exposed skin, I was glad I had insisted she add an additional layer. Even so, I could see her shiver when an especially persistent gust blew through.

It was worth the chill to honor Varro. Death hadn't changed him as much as the end of the spell. The frail, worn-out husk on the altar bore little resemblance to the old but sturdy man in the woods.

Besides the four of us, Landa, Mander, Julius, and Baden were in attendance. Paxton would have been here, but it was still light out, and that would not have ended well for him. The small group seemed disproportional to Varro's sacrifices and dedication to improving the world, not just for himself but for everyone. Had I known if he had friends, or how to contact them, I would've delayed this until they could attend, but from all appearances, he'd kept himself apart from the world.

No one said the pointless, human words explaining why we were spending an afternoon in the cold. The memorial began when Julius stepped forward. He sat on his haunches, cupped his wings, and sang. It had been long enough since my last experience with gargoyles singing that I had forgotten the impressive and disconcerting nature of the sound.

The first note out of Julius was a steady tone. It was low and had a slight vibration. The note shifted down a step, his lips moved, and a sharp whistle joined the tone. Whilst Julius held the tone steady, the whistle moved up and down the scale. With a deep breath from him, the sound changed, and the whistle-like sound was carried and the deeper tone fluctuated up and down.

During his song, part of my grief eased. Varro's passing was sad, but I'd known since shortly after he arrived that his time was limited. In the end, he had completed his mission and passed along his legacy. It was a small thing, but he'd seemed to find satisfaction in teaching the two of us.

Sylvia's passing had its own emotional baggage. The past week had been spent coming to terms with one change after another, none of them good and each of them unwelcome. Last night had brought it all to a head, and the outcome had been surprising.

She was dead, and I had spent two centuries grieving the first time she died. This death did not summon the same emotions because I didn't have any grief left. It was time to put my guilt over her abduction to bed, as there was not a single action on my part that would have changed it then or now. Between the diary and her words, the meaning had been clear: she did not blame me.

Her other words had clarified the remainder of my feelings. Sylvia wanted me to move on, not fall back into grief. Last night, I thought it was the wound and shock that was preventing my grief. Today had changed that view. There was simply nothing left to grieve. I had mourned her death, been tormented by her return, berated myself over her abduction, and been overwhelmed by the guilt of my betrayal. It was time for me to move forward.

When the last note faded, we stood silently honoring Varro. I was sure each of us considered what we knew of the man and what we should say to commemorate his passing. I prepared myself for the pain of talking, only to be halted by a shape moving in the woods.

It was faint and indistinct at first, but as it drew closer, I recognized the leshy. He came out of the forest and went to Varro, resting a hand on his forehead. Leshy Apalchen gently moved Varro's head, sliding a leather necklace off him. After realigning Varro's head, the leshy unknotted the end and pulled two medallions off the leather thong. He pressed one of them into my hand and the other into Michelle's.

The medallion was shaped like a crescent moon, but it was exaggerated, with the ends almost touching. There were raised portions that seemed to be text, but with the dirt encrusted on the surface, I could not identify the symbols. Michelle's hand was clenched around her medallion, not revealing so much as an edge. I did not need to see it to guess the shape; it was almost certainly a circle that rested inside this crescent.

Leshy Apalchen returned to the altar, scooped up Varro, and walked into the woods. He did not say why he was taking Varro's body, and none of us were brave enough to ask. Considering that the forest had been his sole companion for many years, it would not surprise me if the leshy considered Varro one of his charges and was taking him home for a proper send-off.

"Was that a forest spirit?" Michelle's father asked.

She nodded. "That was Leshy Apalchen."

"He seems to have taken a shine to Michelle and Elron. All for the best, really; it's much nicer to live somewhere if the area likes you, and there's no ally like the environment," Landa interjected with forced cheer. Her ploy worked.

Michelle's mother agreed, and her father refrained from commenting.

Landa gave me an assessing look before continuing to shuffle all of us in the desired direction. "You need to rest. Back to the lodge."

I'd only made it a few steps when Nancy's voice stopped me. "You should come to Michelle's apartment. I'll take a look at you and see if there's anything I can do."

"Thank you." I turned around. "Anything you can do would be appreciated. The charm Michelle tried didn't do much."

"He wouldn't let me try a second charm," Michelle piped up.

"Which might've been the right choice." Nancy turned her attention back to me. "Let's go. I want to see what's under those bandages."

"Of course." I resumed my shuffle, carefully placing my feet to reduce the risk of stumbles, which would hurt in ways I didn't want to ponder.

Back in Michelle's apartment, Nancy had me lie on the sofa, naked above the hips.

"Werewolf?"

"Yes."

"Hmm."

As she poked and prodded, I tried not to make too much noise or scoot away. Not that I could move much, trapped as I was between her and the back of the sofa.

"Don't move," she said before placing a hand at each end of the wound.

My skin warmed before getting hot, as if someone was holding a flame on me. As the burn increased, the itching began. I caught my lip between my teeth and bit down, holding my breath as the sensation intensified. When I thought I would have to push her away or do something unforgivable, she stopped.

"There, that will speed things along." Nancy leaned back, brushing her hands together.

What had been deep cuts going into the muscle tissue were now thick scabs that had leveled the wounds with the undamaged skin on my chest. A week or more of healing had taken place in seconds.

"Thank you—that feels much better."

Nancy laughed. "The process is miserable, but it's worth it in cases like this. Be careful—you can still reopen those, but you should be able to move more easily and take a real shower."

I thanked her again. The last suggestion had real appeal. Last night Landa and Paxton had given me a sponge bath and washed my hair in a bowl. If I had been any less wounded, the experience would've been humiliating. As it was, I had been grateful for the aid. I needed to think of a way to thank them, or at least Paxton, who was more of an acquaintance than friend but had willingly helped me in my time of need.

Michelle handed me a plate of finger food to enjoy whilst she had dinner with her family. I must have fallen asleep shortly after that because the next thing I knew it was morning and Michelle was poking me awake.

"Do you want to dispose of the ashes?"

Chapter 22: Michelle

Elron didn't look comfortable, but rearranging the seatbelt helped. The lap portion was fitted snugly, but the shoulder part was behind his back rather than running over his wound. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing, and I figured any cop who pulled us over for that would understand when they saw the partly healed claw marks.

Half the jars were stowed in a partitioned and padded bag that was resting behind my seat, and the rest of them were still at home. Varro had told me to spread the ashes over the water, but I wanted them over different bodies of water at different times, so I was saving the rest for my next trip to Ellijay. A different river ran through there, and I figured Wells would get some joy in dumping the last remains of the demon.

Elron was silent, but that didn't surprise me. After the past few days, I wasn't in a chatty mood either. The return of his memory, and his certainty that I was the one for him, puzzled me. After everything, I would've expected him to be in mourning for Sylvia, but other than being less talkative than usual, he didn't seem particularly upset.

I looked at him quickly before returning my attention to the road. Whatever he was thinking didn't show on his face. He'd spent every moment he could with me since the demon slaying, but he hadn't been chatty. With any other person, I'd say the behavior was creepy, but Elron was different. He was unwilling to engage in idle chatter and spent most of his time focusing on a wall or window, lost in thought.

Given the choice between this behavior and the days he'd spent sequestered after learning about the diary, I'd pick this. He wasn't the most enjoyable company, but he was giving me fewer reasons to worry about his health and well-being. That alone was worth the oddity of his behavior.

Maybe I'd feel better if Elron said something, anything, about Sylvia, but other than admitting to his returned memory, he'd kept quiet about his feelings. His mention of a date did give me hope that we could move past this and reclaim some of what we had before things got so complicated.

That was giving both of us a lot of credit I wasn't sure I deserved. There was something weird and wrong about dating a man after killing his wife. Then again, Gremory was the real root of the problem. He'd murdered the woman Elron loved the day he abducted her. Sylvia had never had a shot at a normal life after that. With the way things worked out, she'd died while killing Gremory. That was the way I had to think about it.

If I told myself that every day, maybe I could escape the guilt. It was the only rationalization that took her death from something horrible I'd done to something horrible that wasn't my fault.

I snorted as I turned off the road, ignoring the questioning look Elron sent in my direction. Sure, I could tell myself that, but it was my fault she'd burned alive. If I'd been smarter, stronger, or better, she would've been dead before the flames had engulfed her.

We crept down the dirt road as I tried to make the ride as smooth as it could be while we were dodging potholes. After ten minutes, we made it to a packed-dirt clearing that had a sign with an arrow pointing down a path. I didn't need to read it to know it directed us to the Etowah River.

It was the largest body of running water in the county and would do nicely for the ashes. Even if we'd somehow failed to destroy the demon, which was exceptionally doubtful since Julius assured me he'd seen the spirit die, this much water would prevent anything from using or coming out of those ashes.

Before I got out of the car, I stuck my purse under my seat and my keys in my pocket. After grabbing the bag of ashes out of the back seat, I helped Elron out of the car. Locking the vehicle was habit but unnecessary. We were alone out here.

The walk down the path was slow; Elron wasn't up to fast progress and needed to pick his steps carefully. Along the way, the trip changed for me. It was less of a chore and more of a commemoration. This would be Sylvia's funeral and an end to Gremory's involvement in my life.

When we got to the riverbank, I gave Elron the two large jars and kept the smaller ones for myself. He needed this more than I did; after all, she'd been his wife. He gave me a sober nod of thanks and set off downriver.

Taking the hint, I picked my way to an area that looked inviting. It was a lovely spot and ideal for our purposes. This was one of the nicer banks, sloping gently to meet the river, with more silt and pebbles than true mud. The few bushes didn't inhibit travel, and the view was beyond compare. Across the water, a hill rose up, with stately trees holding on to the last leaves of fall. The water was crystal clear, showing off the smooth stones a foot under the surface. The water tumbled gently over the rocks, creating little swirls, small rapids, and the beginnings of white water. From past experience, I knew it was icy cold.

The wind was gentle today, gliding through the trees and ruffling the hair that had escaped my braid. The knot in my heart eased. There wasn't a better spot to lay Sylvia to rest while continuing her mission.

I set one jar by my feet, held the other in my hand, and started unscrewing the lid. Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to find the right words. "I'm sorry."

The wind pushed my hair into my mouth, and I tucked it behind my ear before I continued. "That hardly seems adequate. I can't say I liked the parts of you I got to see, but I admired your strength and conviction. I'm sorry we met this way, and I'm sorry for the way I killed you. That was a horrible death that no one should endure. I didn't see another way, and that was my failing."

Tears were falling freely at this point, obscuring my vision and leaving wet streaks down my face. "Maybe if I'd had more time, been smarter, or tried harder, I could've found a way to spare you. But you didn't want to be spared, did you? Was this as much suicide as a way to kill Gremory? You're the only one with the answers to those questions.

"And that's not all I wanted to ask. Am I supposed to move forward, pretending I didn't commit murder for the sake of killing one of the greatest evils to roam the earth? How do I start a relationship with Elron after I killed you? You were his wife. How do I move past that?

"You gave him your blessing in the end. Did that extend to me? Does it matter? I see you dying when I close my eyes, and no amount of forgiveness on your part is going to change that. How can I love a man when I see that?"

I turned the jar upside down and shook the ashes into the water. My tears had turned to sobs, but it didn't slow me down. The second jar was in my hands, and my lack of vision was irrelevant.

"Can you tell me how to live with this? Can you forgive me? I need you to forgive me. I don't know how to forgive myself," I yelled as I dumped the second jar into the water.

My legs gave out, and I ended up on my butt with the dampness of the riverbank soaking through my pants, crying into my hands.

"One day at a time, until it hurts less. That is how you live with it. That would be how you live with anything you do not know how to manage." Elron's voice was rough but steady. "I can forgive you. Sylvia would not think there is anything to forgive."

He knelt down next to me and rested his cheek against the top of my head. "You regret the unchangeable, worry about the unavoidable, and show concern for the feelings of others. Neither Sylvia nor myself hold you responsible for the events of her life or death. If you cannot move past that, I will remain your friend, wishing I had not lost the chance to be more. If you can, I will be here for you, come dates at the garden or nights with the demon."

Sniffling, I scrubbed my face on my arm, leaving wet streaks and a glob of snot. "You said you needed time, and how can it be that simple?"

"Age simplifies things. You did the right things in the best way you could at the time. The rough edges will fade. As for us, Sylvia and I were done years ago. Yes, we were still married, but you didn't kill her as much as you helped her kill her captor. She was collateral damage."

Elron sighed and kissed my forehead. "I do need time. I need to be sure I do not bring parts of the past into our relationship. Along with that, both of us need distance, a few weeks or so, between us and the harshness of reality before we can truly move forward. While we are getting that distance, we can work on our foundation."

"Oh." I sat there, the cold making my butt stiff and my brain trying desperately to process everything he'd said. "Are you sure she wouldn't blame me? That was a… horrible way to…"

"Sylvia changed during her captivity, but she was never petty, and she always believed in the greater good. She would not want you to be upset over anything that happened. Now, you are welcome to stay on the ground, but I need to stand." Elron squeezed my shoulders before moving to his feet.

I felt bad. He'd knelt down to comfort me even though that had to hurt. His wound hadn't healed enough to make those movements comfortable. I rubbed my eyes and got to my feet.

"Are you okay? You shouldn't have been kneeling like that," I scolded him, looking for signs of pain.

"I am fine."

Leaning down, I picked up the jars, capped them, and placed them in the bag with the jars he'd emptied. "Men always say that."

"You ruined your pants."

"What?" I stood up and glared at him. "Were you looking at my backside?"

"Irrelevant. You sat in mud." He smirked.

I twisted around, trying to get a good look. The first thing I noticed was a bright red-brown smudge. My eyes darted to the ground, where I saw an imprint of my rear end in a slick of Georgia clay. I groaned. Elron was right—the pants were toast.

Looking him over, I didn't see a single fleck of clay. "How did you manage to stay clean?"

Elron pointed at the ground. "Conveniently placed patches of grass."

I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him. "How bad is it?"

"Are you going to scold me for looking?"

"No, I'm asking you to tell me the extent of the damage."

"If you want to save your car, you are going to need a towel."

Chapter 23: Michelle

Elron was asleep on the sofa, and I didn't have the heart to wake him, so I left the diary on the dining room table and went into my workroom to disenchant a few items. Maybe if I kept busy, I could forget about Sylvia's last warning.

After setting up recycle, trash, and crush bins, I started working my way through the backlog of items from Union County. Two doorbells, three door knockers, a book, cup, and a lamp later, my mood hadn't improved. After ruthlessly ripping the magic out of a dog's chew toy, I flopped into my chair.

Sylvia had yet to bring tidings of comfort and joy, and there was no doubt in my mind that whatever other secrets were in her diary would follow the trend. If the information didn't sound so important, I'd toss the Narzel-blasted book in a shredder just to get it out of my life.

A gentle rap on the doorframe drew my attention away from my grump fest. Elron was leaning against the doorjamb, diary in one hand, medallion in the other.

"Shall we see what secrets they left us?" Elron asked.

"I guess so. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll be good news." Not likely, but a girl could hope.

"Perhaps, and perhaps pigs will fly." Elron walked out of my office shaking his head.

I trailed him, puzzled. "I don't get it."

"What is there to understand? It is as likely as a flying pig. It was a common saying for many years."

"Not anymore. Flying pigs have been around all my life. I remember going into their aviary at the petting zoo as a kid." Though, looking back, my mom had had a particularly amused look on her face. I'd have to look up the history of the flying pig later.

"Is nothing sacred?" Elron muttered as he set the book and medallion on the table before marching into the kitchen and making tea.

"Not a thing." The knot in my stomach eased. If the humor and teasing were coming back, we were on the right path.

He muttered to himself as he measured the tea and poured the hot water. The cups of tea went on a tray with a sugar bowl and creamer, which he carried over to the table. I sat down next to him and sniffed the tea. It was a sturdy black. Taking the hint, I gave it a quick taste before adding a bit of sugar and cream.

"Thank you for the tea."

Elron smiled. "My pleasure."

"Let's start with the medallions." I pulled mine out of my pocket and set it on the table. It wasn't that I wanted to look at hunks of metal so much as a lack of desire to get more bad news from Sylvia.

Having looked over mine in great detail and being unable to read any of it, I snagged Elron's crescent-shaped medallion. It was made of brass, just like mine, and covered in the same indecipherable markings interspersed with pictures.

Elron took his time inspecting mine but ended up shrugging. He set it down, then set mine in the circle. They fit together but were still nonsensical. We tried looking at both sides and rotating one or the other, but whatever secrets they held were not going to be easily discovered.

"I give up."

"Perhaps they were simply a gift, something to help us remember Varro, or we will discover their meaning when it becomes pertinent." Elron gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"I hope they were a gift. I don't need any other inanimate objects with important information." Really, the book was enough. "He did spend that afternoon dictating information; maybe the medallions are mentioned."

"Have you read it?"

I shook my head.

"Me either. We should revisit the medallions when we have more information."

"Sounds good to me. On to the diary?" I asked.

Elron fixed his eyes on the book. "If you do not mind, I have an idea as to what Sylvia meant when she told us to disassemble the book."

Nudging the diary closer to him, I said, "By all means, go for it."

He pulled a short-bladed knife out of his pocket and started cutting the leather off the book. Once he'd separated the main piece of leather from the glued edges, it peeled off the book in one sheet. Scribed in simple, blocky letters were the words, "Gremory was not the last."

I pushed back from the table and said some nasty words as I marched across the room. Of all the things I needed in my life, more demons weren't on the list. Maybe killing them would get easier with practice, but I didn't want to be in a position to find out. My family and friends had been safe this time, but there was no guarantee that future demons would leave them alone.

The view out the windows did nothing to soothe me, and I spun around to stomp back to the table. I made it two steps before Elron pulled me into his arms.

"I don't need more demons in my life," I said into his shirt.

"No one does."

Tipping my head back, I studied him. "I don't want to go demon hunting, and I don't want them here where they could hurt my friends and family."

"As long as we preserve and pass on Varro's knowledge, we have done our part. We do not have to seek out these demons, and there is no reason to think they will come after us."

"We killed Gremory. That's a reason."

"Perhaps, if they know about it. It is also a good reason to avoid us." He sighed. "Do not borrow trouble."

I opened my mouth but never got a chance to voice my protest. His lips met mine and I was pleasantly distracted. Breaking the kiss, he tucked me against his chest.

"Demons or no demons, I will be by your side, Michelle."

"Demons aren't my only problem," I muttered.

"What is the other problem?"

I took a step back and locked gazes with him. "The clans."

"We will deal with them too," he said, his tone cutting off any argument.

Elron pulled me back into his arms, and I kept my thoughts to myself. Those hags weren't going away without a fight, though calling them hags might be a disservice to hags in general. Hags have better manners.

With that, I gave up on worrying about tomorrow and just enjoyed the moment.

Thank You

Thank you for taking the time to read A Witch's Trial. If you enjoyed Michelle and Elron's story, please post a review. Reviews are a valuable way for authors to connect with readers. If you're interested, the following pages contain information on upcoming books and my contact information.

Also by N. E. Conneely

A Witch's Path Series:

Witch for Hire (Book 1)

A Witch's Path (Book 2)

A Witch's Trial (Book 3)

A Witch's Concern (Book 4)

Fey Hearted:

Fey Hearted (Book 1)

About the Author

I live in North Georgia with my dog and a mountain of books. We sweat through the summer and freeze through the winter. Life as we know it comes to an end when so much as a single snowflake falls out of the sky.

For fun, I play with my dog, read, knit, crochet, paint, tie-dye, and do origami. I make a great pizza. I'm negotiating with my roommate over sea monkeys and working on a vegetable garden.

I'm currently working on book 5 in the Witch's Path Series.

Connect with N. E. Conneely

Facebook: facebook.com/neconneely

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Website: www.neconneely.com

If you'd like to e-mail me: author@neconneely.com