"Pops? Are you okay?"
I hop off my stool and follow the weird pull as I work to sort through the sensations. "There's something."
That the two of them follow isn't a surprise. That I end up standing on my front porch is a bit of a temperature shock.
"Here, put this on." Asher wraps my jacket around my shoulders as Somebuddy and Nobuddy race past us to do zoomie circles on the front lawn. "Is the something close or far?"
"Close."
"Is it demon or other?" Wylder asks.
"Other. I think it's a spirit. A spirit suffering, to be exact." I stand there, the late November wind pulling at my hair as the sensation strengthens, tugging my attention across the road to Margaret Pinehurst's pristine colonial.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." I lean against the porch railing, staring at the house where lace curtains hide the neighborhood's most prolific gossip.
Asher steps in beside me and follows my gaze. "Is it Margaret?"
"Apparently." I raise my hands and weave a simple spell to extend my vision. The magic settles over my eyes like a lens, and suddenly I can see through Margaret's picture window as clearly as if I'm standing in her living room.
She's dusting her mantle, moving with mechanical precision, but on her forehead, a demon sigil pulses with dark energy. And tethered to her—draining her life force drop by drop—is a translucent ghost, its face twisted in anguish.
"She's marked." My voice comes out flat. "And there's a ghost feeding off her."
Asher shrugs. "It's not that big of a surprise, honestly. Margaret is a nasty piece of sanctimonious work who has been spreading misery around this neighborhood for decades. She's a perfect candidate for negative emotions."
"Harsh but true." The woman basically said my mother's death was divine punishment for inappropriate practices.
Wylder crosses his arms. "She's certainly not the only one marked. We can just add her to whatever list we end up making."
"We could," I agree.
"Or?" Asher clearly recognizes the signs of my mental wheels spinning.
"Or I could try severing the tether." I let the vision spell dissolve for the moment. "If I can break the connection between the ghost and Margaret?—"
"Absolutely not." Mom materializes beside me, her translucent form solidifying as clearly as she's been in weeks. "The last time you interfered with one of those marks, you were pulled into Tharuzel's consciousness."
"But I'm stronger now." I gesture toward Wylder and then tap the little silver disc behind my ear. "I'm safely beyond his influence and can actually think clearly for the first time in weeks."
Sebastian emerges from the house, drawn by the conversation. "What's going on?"
I blink. "Oh, hey, I didn't even know you were here."
"Your mother and I are working on something."
Yeah, they always are.
"So, again, why is everyone standing on the front porch?"
Asher fills him in while I study Margaret's house, mapping the connection in my mind.
The first time I encountered the tether and sigil combo, I just wanted to break it and free Mr. Peterson. This time, I take a moment to probe the magic and get a feel for it.
By the time I'm finished, I'm more convinced than ever that I can exploit my connection to Tharuzel and cut his hold on Margaret without getting sucked in. "I think I can do this."
Mom's expression softens. "Poppy?—"
"Mom, seriously. Practice makes perfect, right? I have a better understanding of what he's doing and how these sigils work this time."
