I look down at Laurel. Already, her little nubs are showing the faintest suggestion of a backwards curl. They’re a pretty pink and gold color. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I rest my cheek on her head.
“Mama.” Laurel rocks back into me with a squeal.
“Like her mom,” Artie says staunchly.
“Well, I know we can’t fix the past, and I’m not into revenge. Revenge spells turn into dark magic very quickly. Justice, however, is the coven’s specialty. You open the compact,” Tess demonstrates shutting it, then popping it open, “and put in a piece of paper with the name of the person who needs a heaping helping of justice. Look into the mirror. Leave the paper inside, close the compact, and forget about it. Whatever this person did to you will be gifted back to them. Call it a perspective-taking exercise.”
“My stepfather doesn’t have horns to cut off. Or a tail. Or hooves.” I take the compact, throat tight, hands slightly shaky.
“He might suddenly grow them.” Tessa smiles. “And he might be so ashamed that he hides away. Or he might rush to the hospital and have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Or he might be out on a fishing boat with a lot of very freaked-out sailors,” Artie chimed in. “I wonder what in the world they’d do if Barton suddenly sprouted horns in the middle of lunch. I’m picturing... Chaos. Lots of yelling. And that tail... I imagine that would take a heck of a lot of time to get used to. Unless, of course, he decides he should just get rid of it.”
“That might be hard to do in the middle of the Arctic Ocean,” Alban says with an innocent look, twiddling his thumbs. “My, my. What a mess that would be.”
Slowly, I smile at the three guests. “Thank you for all the information. There’s a lot to learn, isn’t there? A lot to deal with. I don’t know what to do with all of this.”
“It’s a big deal,” Tessa nods. “You just take your time. People around here will help, okay? If you need meals, or someone to help put up the holiday decorations, run errands...”
“I have a question,” Artie asks.
“Kane Garden Center. That’s where you get your Christmas trees,” Mr. Minegold supplies.
“No, no. I mean, that is helpful, but not that. Where’s the body?”
Tessa and Mr. Minegold look at Alban.
“Oh, I sent it back.”
“Back??”
“To wherever he came from. I put a little note on his horn that said ‘Stay out of New York or expect similar packages.’ I thought that was concise.”
“Very clear messaging, Alban,” Mr. Minegold praises and rises to leave.
Laurel makes an ominous noise from the region of her diaper. “Da!”
“Why do you get the cute squeals, and I get the poop?” Artie grumbles. “Excuse me, folks. Come on, Laurel,” he sighs.
“Dadada.” Laurel head butts his chin.
Artie kisses her tiny horns with a muttered, “Gonna have to put bumper guards on these things...”
“Thank you, Tess,” I hug her and take the compact.
“I’ll be over tonight to place untraceable charms for all of you. Just added insurance.”
“And I’ll see you at two,” Mr. Wymark pats my hand and waves goodbye.
I don’t know why he thinks I’ll see him at two, but he’s wrong. I’m staying in this house. Maybe for a week. Maybe forever.
Mr. Minegold lingers in the doorway. At first, I think it’s because the sun is peeking out, but then he turns to me.
“Do you know that when a vampire takes an innocent human life, he loses his human soul, and a demon resides in its place?”
I swallow. “No.”
“I killed a great many men when I was first turned. I still have my soul. I can go to any house of worship, hold a cross, eat garlic, wear my Star of David,” he smiles. “All the men I killed—were killers. Preying on weak and innocent men, women, and children, the frail, the sick, the elderly. You are not someone or something bad or evil, or even unworthy,” he reassures me, eyes searing into mine.
