“I thought the catch would be bad plumbing or termites, not secret bloodlines and goddesses and a Poison Garden,” said Mom as she closed her eyes and rubbed her neck. “They should definitely have put that in the paperwork. I’m gonna find some Tylenol and see if your auntie has come up with anything else.” She gave me a hug. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise.”

She disappeared upstairs, and I went back to the hidden room in the apothecary, this time armed with two flashlights and a lighter from the kitchen drawer.

I lit the black candles that flanked the statue of Hecate. The picture of me sat among the offerings on the altar. A shiver ran through me as the light from the candles danced across the space. Auntie Leti kept her altar stocked with fresh flowers, rum, cigars, and black coffee, and while I didn’t know the ins and outs of her practice, I knew it was important to keep the stuff on the altar fresh.

I went to the apothecary and grabbed the waste bin behind the counter. I swept the rotted garlic and onions into the basket, making a note of where everything was, then went to the kitchen and brought in fresh garlic and a damp rag to dust off the figure.

If I was willing to believe everything I’d learned about the Colchis family, Medea, and her brother Absyrtus, then that meant I also had to believe that the goddess this shrine was dedicated to was the one responsible for the immunity to poison I now possessed. If Hecate was real and willing to reward Medea for her loyalty, maybe she’d do the same for me.

The doorbell rang again, and Mom let out a string of curse words before stomping down the stairs. I went into the hallway to see who it was.

“Mrs. Redmond?” Mom sounded surprised. “Is everything okay? You look . . . rough.”

As Mrs. Redmond limped into the foyer, I tried my hardest to keep my expression unchanged, but I was horrified by her appearance.

Her right eye was swollen completely shut. The skin around it was so purple it was almost black. The left side of her face and neck was splotchy. Her left knee was bandaged but a dark red stain was seeping through. The wounds on her hands were weeping, and her hair was a mess.

Mom shook her head. “What the hell happened to you?”

“There has been some confusion with the bank,” Mrs. Redmond said, avoiding my gaze. “Apparently Circe and Selene owed several years of back taxes, and there is now a lien on the property. The house and land will be sold at auction. You must vacate immediately.”

“Excuse me?” I said, stunned. “You said the house was mine, that they wanted me to have it. You said the taxes were paid through a trust.”