She used her broom first, sweeping the negative energy away, then she set it by the kitchen door to prevent any reentry. With Diego ribboning between her legs, she chose her candles, inscribed them with the appropriate symbols. Deciding that she could use all the help she could get, she selected crystals to bolster the energy. She arranged them, and the pot of frost-burned geraniums she’d taken from Zack’s front porch.

Expelled a breath, drew in fresh.

She referred back to the healing spell Mia had written out on parchment in India ink and, closing her eyes, adjusted the words in her mind to suit her purpose.

“Here goes,” she whispered.

“This damaged bloom I seek to heal, from its withered petals fresh beauty reveal. Um . . . its blooming time was too soon done, its color brings pleasure to all and harm to no one. Set the flower within it free. As I will, so mote it be.”

She bit her lip, waited. The geranium sat stubbornly wilted in its pot. Nell bent over, looking close for some little sign of green.

She straightened again. “Shoot. I guess I’m not ready to solo.”

But maybe she should try again. She needed to visualize, to see the plant lush and full and blooming. She needed to smell leaves and petals, channel her energy. Or was it the plant’s energy? In any case, giving up after one try made her a pretty wimpy witch.

She closed her eyes again, started to process, then yelped at the brisk knock on her back door. She spun around so quickly, she booted Diego halfway across the little room, which caused him to plop down and begin to wash himself as if that was what he’d intended all along.

Chuckling, Nell opened the door to Ripley.

“I was cruising by, saw the candlelight. Are you having power trouble?” Even as she asked, she looked past Nell and saw the ritual candles on the table. “Oh.”

“Practicing, and from the results, I need a lot more. Come on in.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.” Since the night of the book club meeting she’d made a point to stop by, or at least cruise by, every evening. “Isn’t that the dead plant from our front porch?”

“It’s not dead yet, but it’s close. I asked Zack if I could try to bring it back.”

“Working spells on dead geraniums? Man, you slay me.”

“I figured if I made any mistakes, it couldn’t hurt anything. Do you want some tea? I brewed some just a while ago.”

“Well, maybe. Zack said to let you know he’d be by when he finished up. We had a D and D—drunk and disorderly,” she explained. “Underage minor. He’s just about sicked up all of the six-pack he swiped from his parents’ refrigerator. Zack’s walking him home.”

“Anyone I know?”