The fae-witch headed swiftly for the house. Didi, Mrs. Chen, and the Ashgrove witches followed in her steps.
Gavin came up to me, his expression still groggy.
“What happened?” the dragon newt asked anxiously. “I remember feeling sick and falling.”
Samuel and I exchanged a glance.
“Bad things,” I said with a grimace. “A lot of them. You did great knocking her out by the way.”
Gavin picked up his fire extinguisher. There was a dent in it.
“I said it would come in handy.”
We found the Lincoln sisters in the cellar.
The three witches were lying inside containment wards identical to the ones we’d discovered in the warehouse. They looked gaunt and were barely conscious, the couture outfits they’d been wearing when they were kidnapped rumpled and stained. Color began to return their faces as their stolen magic sank back inside their bodies.
Didibroke the wards.
Mrs. Chen knelt beside the eldest Lincoln sister, removed a fresh green bundle from her satchel, and started murmuring healing incantations, her herbs filling the dank space with a sharp, cleansing scent. Melody helped ease the youngest sister into a sitting position while the Ashgrove witches tended to the middle sister.
Maude Lincoln opened her eyes. They were glassy and unfocused. She looked at Mrs. Chen, then at me, then at the ceiling.
“Did someone get the number of the broom that hit me?” she mumbled.
Didi made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. She blinked rapidly and looked away.
Viola stirred beside her sister. Petunia groaned.
“You’re safe now,” Mrs. Chen told Maude.
The eldest Lincoln sister squinted. “Wait. Is that you, Willy?”
Mrs. Chen narrowed her eyes. “My name is Wilhelmina and you damn well know it, you brat.”
We helped the Lincoln sisters out of the cellar and into the cold night air.
The Thornwick property was a mess. The porch railing was missing a section. Part of the roof had collapsed. Scorch marks and fissures crisscrossed the garden.
Barney was still standing in the middle of the lawn holding the cat.
Bo sat at the vampire’s feet.
“She seems upset,” he said, eyeing the cat warily.
Esmeralda was trying to murder Barney and failing miserably.
“You would be too if your evil schemes were hampered by the fact that you’re now a feline,” Barney said flatly.
“That wouldn’t stop Pearl,” Bo huffed with steadfast loyalty.
“He better not let Pearl hear that,” Samuel muttered.
I swallowed a sigh and addressed my dog. “Where did you come from?”
“The van.” The Husky trotted over, tail wagging. “I heard the explosions and figured it was safe to come out once things went quiet.” His tail accelerated when he spotted the Lincoln sisters. “Oh! You found the MVP.”
31
