“Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” I said, irate. I slid aside to give Ivy more room as she pulled the image of my mother into the kitchen and let her slump over Wyatt. The woman’s eyes were twitching as the charm began to break. Oliver, too, was stirring, his wincing eyes shut as his fingers fluttered up and over his swelling cheek. Good. I had a few things to say to him. That the potions had lasted this long was a testimony to coven magic. Oliver might look stupid and slow, but he wasn’t. He was just backward as all hell.

“Do you have an anticharm for this?” I asked Leon, wanting to hurry things up.

He was still pressed into the corner, and his eyes darted to the front pocket of Wyatt’s jacket. “S-salt water,” he stammered.

“Thanks,” I said, gingerly searching the spelled witch until I found a couple of the little vials.

Only now did I take the amulet off my not-mother, smirking as the slightly chunky blond earth witch shimmered into existence. Yeah, it was Amanda. I flicked the top off a vial of salt water and dumped it on her. She came to, sputtering as she pushed herself off Oliver and sat with her back to the cupboards. Wyatt was next, glaring at me as soon as he could focus.

“If you move, I break your fingers,” I told the ley-line witch, then turned to Amanda, crouching to look in her eyes. “Hi, Amanda,” I mocked, and her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything, terrified. “Don’t worry,” I said as I straightened and backed up. “I’m not going to eat you. At least not today. If you make me go hide in the ever-after, I might have a different answer for you.”

Ivy silently handed me one of the two remaining guns before she took up a position near the wide entryway to the kitchen, blocking their exit and still having a good view of the hallway through the blown-off door. Her feet were spread wide, her hands were on her hips, and her eyes were dark. The fear and anger weren’t dissipating nearly fast enough. Sure, the coven was down, and we had their guns, but what was I supposed to do with them now? Trent would slap a forget curse on them. Pierce would probably want to give them to Al, seeing that those of their ilk had buried him alive. I wasn’t going to do either, and I was the one they called black. It just wasn’t fair. Frustrated, I tucked the splat gun in the small of my back.

“You’ll burn for this,” Oliver snarled.

I’d had enough. Angry, I grabbed his shirtfront, shaking him as he tried to get his eyes to focus. “You should have listened to Vivian!” I said, then shoved him back against the cupboard. Wincing, he felt the back of his head, not nearly scared enough.

“Well?” Ivy said. “You want me to find some friends and drain them?”