“Well, yeah,” Andrew said. “But we just want Warren back.”

“Okay,” Anya said, in an unsure singsong. If it had been her friend who got exploded by some random blond, she would definitely want true vengeance, not a happily-ever-after pocket universe to live in. But, hey, maybe that was why she didn’t have any friends. “Obviously, since this isn’t my standard ex-boyfriend revenge deal, this will cost you.”

“How much?” Jonathan asked at the same time Andrew said, “Anything!”

Anya smiled. She loved when negotiations were this easy. “Let’s say a bucket of money.” She inclined her head toward Human-Mike, who was shuffling out of the back room, balancing a WET FLOOR sign, a mop, and a bucket. “Hey, Mike, how much money do you think you could fit into that mop bucket?”

Human-Mike lifted the bill of his visor and scratched his forehead. “Well, this bucket holds about nine gallons of water, so—”

“Perfect,” Anya said. She held her hand out to Andrew. “Nine gallons of money, please.”

“Actually, gallons are a measurement of liquid,” Jonathan said.

“Liquid assets are acceptable,” Anya said.

“Here.” Andrew retrieved the wallet from his back pocket and fished out a handful of cash and credit cards. Jonathan divested his wallet of its contents, too. Andrew slid the collection of currency across the counter. “Is this enough to start?”

“Looks good to me,” Anya said. She slipped the wad into the pocket of her apron. Cracking her knuckles and stretching her neck from side to side, she warmed up for some old-fashioned Wish-granting. She even pulled her green Marnoxon amulet out of the collar of her shirt, even though it would work just as well covered up. She couldn’t help but lean into the showmanship. She so rarely got to show off in her new life as a juicery crew member. When she’d left Arashmaharr, she hadn’t considered how boring it would be to live a mostly nonmagical existence. Grinding sheep hearts and chicken gizzards didn’t have the same pizzazz as creating entirely new universes out of thin air. No wonder people thought she was just a boring old human.

“Now, I assume you’re familiar with what we call the ‘genie rules’?” she asked the boys.

“You can’t make anyone fall in love with us?” Jonathan asked.

“What? Of course I could,” Anya harrumphed, insulted at the thought. “I could make a goat fall in love with a tiger if I wanted to build an entire universe around it. No, the genie rules are: You have to say the words ‘I wish’ for it to count, and you can’t wish for more Wishes. It’s cheating. And it’s cheap. You’re paying per Wish.”

“Got it,” Andrew said, wringing his blood-drenched hands. He glanced sidelong at his friend. “Ready?”

Jonathan bit his lip and nodded.

Andrew took a deep breath, counting to three on his fingers before he and Jonathan said in unison, “I wish Warren wasn’t dead.”

Anya took a dramatic step backward, her palms spread wide as her skin shriveled into its demon form, revealing the red tendons of her demon face. “Wish grant—”