Or maybe that was Josiah and his coven? Molly held her phone to her ear as she watched car after car speed into sight. Two, three, four, five… six… Their headlights turned the shadowed stretch of road as bright as day.

She hit dial.

Josiah roared in her ear. “There you fucking are! Don’t you ever fucking hang up on me again!”

Oh, yeah. She’d already forgotten about that. “Is that you, baby?”

“What do you fucking mean, is that fucking me?” he demanded. “If you have time to chat, the other guy better be dead.”

“Yeah, he’s dead.”

“Good. I was bargaining for transportation with a Djinn.”

A Djinn? “You mean you haven’t left yet?”

“I’ve been a bit busy directing coven resources your way,” he bit out.

She started the four-seven-eight technique. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“God no. Wait until I see you in person.”

The vehicles pulled to either side of the road, and silhouetted individuals climbed out. A crawling sensation ran up Molly’s spine, and the other women drew close. Delphine said uneasily, “I’m feeling a lot of magic, cher. Didn’t you say this area didn’t have many magic users?”

Do you think I am the only one you have to worry about?

“Josiah, remember when I said I took precautions?” Molly breathed. She counted silhouettes as they approached at a leisurely pace. Seven, eight, nine… “I meant to tell you at the police station, but I didn’t get the chance. A couple of friends came back to Atlanta with me, and we’re in trouble. At least thirteen more witches have arrived.”

The silhouettes raised Power that snapped together to form a seamless web.

“Right,” Josiah said. The connection went dead.

Ooo…kay. She pocketed her phone and shook out her Power whip. Delphine flicked open a switchblade and positioned the razor tip at her elbow, preparing to use her unique form of magic, while Sylvie started to whisper, making the edges of the forest rustle.

The silhouettes stopped advancing, and a man’s deep, thickly accented voice said, “I suggest you drop those spells if you wish to live. No need for all four of you to die when I only want one.”

That voice. It held the complex patina of countless years. That was Josiah’s tormentor. Molly had no proof, but she felt it in her bones.

“Oh, well, if you only want one of us.” Delphine’s voice was thick with sarcasm. “Fuck you.”

She cut into her skin, and as blood welled, it released a deluge of Power. In the same moment, with a snap of her fingers Sylvie finished her whispered spell. Vines whipped out from the trees to wind around the silhouettes. That broke the group’s seamless web of Power, but not before a blast of magic hit all four of them.