Grandma appears at my side. Grabs my hand. “We will fight her together,” she says and, with her free hand, grabs ahold of my mom.
The bokor rises to his feet and glares at me, then Luna. Turns his attention to Mrs. Flores. She still holds the knife in her hand, and at his slight nod, raises it to her collar bone. Presses it to her skin.
I grab Luna’s hand, hold her tight, hold her steady.
The steel draws blood.
The blade bends. Flops sideways like limp rubber.
Mrs. Flores drops the weapon. Then drops to her knees. Drops her head.
My gaze snaps to Miri. She’s glowing with unbridled pride in her magick. She melted the blade or turned it to utter slop. Something of that nature.
Only…
The bokor glares at me, clearly taking no note of Miri and her ability. It was his irritation with me that brought him to my grandma’s house, and it is his irritation with me that continues to hold his attention.
I shouldn’t have written the note.
He rushes forward, knocks me from my link with Grandma and Luna. Drops me to the ground. His thick hands encircle my neck and squeeze.
My throat closes and. I. Can’t. Breathe.
Grandma, Luna, Mom… It seems like everyone, except Miri, jumps on the bokor and tries to stop him. But in one firm burst of power, everyone is thrown clear. It’s a boom in my ear and a wave through my bones, leaving only me and the murderous man. I try to whisper the words, any words, that will push my spices… and magick… into action. But the words refuse to come with my breath trapped and my throat closed.
My gaze searches out Miri. In a mess of mud and rain and bokor’s men struggling with family and friends, Miri remains untouched. It’s as if she stands unseen by everyone else.
She stares at me, a tight nod in her gesture and a mild smile on her lips. She takes one step forward. “Bokor, you have not lived well. Your choices disappoint. And so, I grant you many lives by which to learn and atone. Only this time, as a cat you shall dwell.”
The bokor’s grip on my neck loosens, and his eyes widen. With a start, he sits back and shudders, makes a strangled sound that doesn’t sound human. He grabs at his chest, scratches, then morphs into a cat.
His weight lifts from me and shifts, drops into the mud at my side… in the form of a cinnamon and brown cat. I push to my elbows but make no attempt to stand.
“What the…” James’s confusion rises over the rainfall and thunder, and he attempts to get to his feet, slips in the mud and falls to the ground. Jeanna offers her aid.
The brown and cinnamon cat yowls and backs up, swings his head back and forth, back and forth. If I were able to decipher a cat’s mood, I’d say the bokor now turned feline is deep in a well of bewilderment.
My gaze snaps to Miri. Miri, or the ancestor possessing Miri, turned the bokor into a cat. A cat! My heart hammers to a stop. Luna scrambles to my side. “Did you do that?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I couldn’t even breathe, much less speak, and there was some serious power in that spell.”
From somewhere at my back, Bastian leaps past Luna and me and attacks the newly formed bokor cat. Claws out and fangs wide, my sister’s black cat latches on and digs in. The two animals spin in a whirlwind of fur.
“What have you done?” one of the bokor’s men says.
“Change him back,” another commands.
Mom swings, punches one of the men in the face. He stumbles and grabs his jaw. The downpour intensifies.
“Sisterhood unite.” Grandma extends her hand to me. I grasp it, firm. My coven and sister witches slip through the mud to reconnect.
“I need not for your help,” Miri says. “I am more than strong enough to handle these stragglers.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Grandma rebuts. “But neither do we require your assistance. It is time for you to release my granddaughter.”
“I shall do no such thing.” Miri crosses her arms.
Grandma breaks our line, releasing my hold, and steps forward. I stare at the intense showdown between Miri and my grandma. Several battles are being waged here in this sodden cemetery. None of which I care to lose. I shake my head and steel my nerves. I must make smart choices. Be decisive and wise about each and every move.
I jolt. Recall the gift stashed in my pocket. The beads collected and blessed for Miri. I yank the tiny box free, pop it open, and pull the beads into the palm of my hand. Their power thrums against my skin.
Bastian and the bokor cat hiss and yowl. Slam against one of the nearby crypts.
One of the henchmen grabs my grandma’s shoulder. “Turn Chuks back,” he demands.
My hand closes around the string of beads and my attention snaps to the assaulting man. “Rat, leave my grandmother be.”
Spices swirl free from my apron and race forward, spin around him. In a cyclone of dust, he ceases to be, and a rat races away from me.
The other men jolt, gasp.
“You’re stronger than I believed,” Miri says.
I glare at her but choose not to amuse her with a response. Instead, I grab the hands of my fellow coven members. “I called the man a rat, and he became one.” I glance between them. “Now, we do this together.” They all agree with a firm nod.
With their gazes tight on me, the men back away, in slow, unsteady steps. But should they be allowed to leave? Would they return with reinforcements? I can’t take that chance. Luna’s family, my family, need to be protected.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” I say to the three remaining bokor’s men. They turn and sprint toward the main gate. I squeeze the hands
