I could feel the lachrymatory humming in my medicine bag. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Heh. Good one. So back to what I was saying: I’m gonna need a strong ally or two. You and me, maybe we could be partners.”
“It’s not such a bad idea, actually. But . . . somehow I doubt I could trust someone who would hold my sister at knifepoint.”
Jamie looked down at Selena, a confused look on his face, as though he had almost forgotten the teenager was still in his arms, at his mercy.
“This is your sister?”
I nodded. Behind Jamie, I spied the glow of Oscar’s green eyes peering out of the dark rear of the store. I wasn’t certain how this situation would end, but my confidence was growing. It felt as though the befuddling spell was lifting, and I could sense my powers more clearly than I had in days.
“See? Matching polka-dot dresses. Selena’s my magical match,” I said, holding out my skirt. “Mess with her and you mess with me.”
“Now, see here—that’s not my fault. I didn’t know that. How am I supposed to know something like that? She walked in here with Renee, is all.” He licked his lips and seemed to be trying to think of his next move, or how to stall for more time. “So, I gotta know, how’d you finally figure me out?”
“Amoeba Records doesn’t open till eleven.”
“How’d you know I didn’t come to Haight Street early, to get a coffee or something?”
“I didn’t. Not really. It just made me wonder.”
“That’s it? Ah, jeez, gave myself away for no good reason. Story of my life.”
“Also, I tried to think of anyone who might want to move up in this world, to partner with Renee. Like you say, you’ve got ambition. And—no offense—but you’re a little bit crazy.”
“Heh, good one.” His hand had slipped down a bit, but that knife was still too close to Selena’s vulnerable throat. One quick jab would be enough to end her life.
“Jamie, do you know what it’s like to get on the bad side of a witch? I mean, like, the really bad side of a witch?”
It was hard to tell in the dim light, but I thought he blanched a bit.
“Take a moment and think about that,” I continued. “Really ponder it, roll it around in your mind, meditate on it. And then think about what it might be like to be on the bad side of several witches. A whole coven, or maybe two.”
I could feel strength surging in me. I didn’t dare turn around to look, but I wondered whether Aidan might have shown up after all, or Patience and Renna, or maybe even my grandmother’s coven. There was definitely something going on. Somebody—maybe several somebodies—had my back.
“What . . . what are you smiling about?” Jamie asked.
“Ever have a day when you’re just feeling good?” I said, now grinning. “Really good. Like the fog has lifted?”
“What are you . . . ? What’s goin’ on?”
I heard chanting behind me. It started as a low hum, almost undetectable, but gradually grew in intensity.
“I hate that mumblin’ thing!” Jamie said. “How are you doing that?”
“Witches come from a long line of powerful women, Jamie—you should know that. We’re never truly alone. We come by the dozen, plus one. That’s what a coven is.”
“Stop it!” He brought the knife closer to Selena’s neck. “Stop mumblin’!”
“I’m not saying a word.”
I concentrated on his forehead. Kept my gaze there, my eyes piercing and focusing intently. The chanting continued, filling the room and lending me strength. Oscar’s presence was helping to open the portals, to let the spirits slip through. But this time, there was more than one spirit guiding me.
Jamie’s forehead started to smoke. He cried out. A charred symbol took shape: the sigil of Deliverance Corydon, seared into his flesh. He dropped the knife and fell to his knees, screaming in pain. Oscar moved in on him then, looming over him, snarling.
“Lily!” Selena ran to me, throwing her arms around my waist. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I let the bugs out accidentally. And the cupcake lady said she would help me and we could find a trap for them here, so I came with her—”
“Shhhhh, later, m’ija,” I said, hugging her to me with one arm. I kept my other hand on my humming medicine bag. “Jamie, the only way to save yourself is to confess everything to the police. Do you hear me? You will get Sailor off the hook, or so help me . . .”
Behind me, the chanting continued until it was loud enough to drown out the raucous sounds emanating from Aunt Cora’s Closet.
“I’ll do it! I’ll do anything! Just stop!” Jamie lay on the floor, crying out and writhing.
“Basta, m’ija,” I heard Graciela say from behind me. “Enough. Stick a fork in him, as you young people say. He’s done.”
Chapter 29
“Looks like we got here just in time,” said Graciela.
She looked much older, and even shorter, than when last I’d seen her. But just as beautiful. Her stubborn chin, black eyes, and broad cheekbones . . . she was a sight for sore eyes.
I couldn’t stop hugging her. Finally, she pulled away and chided me: “Enough, enough, m’ija. You never did know when to stop.”
But she was smiling, patting me with her soft hands. The feel of those hands on me made me feel like a cherished child again.
Graciela’s coven members seemed unfazed by the scene they’d walked in on. Oscar had shifted back into his pig guise, but three coven members circled Jamie, instructing him
