Chapter 9
DYLAN STOOD AT THE window next to his ghostly father. They both seemed frozen in time, taking impossibly too long to make sense of what was happening outside.
“Well?” I hissed, still splayed on the floor with our daughter. The warm fuzzies were wearing off, and my body hurt all over.
“Those aren’t snakes,” Papa Ernesto said.
“Thank the Wiz—”
“They’re boas,” Dylan cut me off, dashing what was left of my rainbows. “Cuban boas. With fucking wings.”
“Not in front of bitty bat, Uncle D.” Asher placed his little hands over the baby’s ears, but she had dozed off, completely unbothered by our predicament.
“What do we do,” Daisy asked, voice quaking. A shiver rocked her shoulders, and she hugged herself.
Since no one else was stepping up, I gave it a shot. “Call the Country Club,” I told DeeDee. “Let Zelda know we have a serious problem and to send backup.”
DeeDee bound out of the room in search of a phone, leaving my petrified in-laws gaping out the window.
Thunder rolled as the sky darkened once more, but it was a lazy rumble, muted by my exhaustion.
My body wanted sleep. Lots of it. But my mind was crawling with too much dread to allow such luxuries.
More chaos echoed up from downstairs, and then Broomzilla zipped into the room, racing a frantic circle above us before realizing how much she’d missed—the baby, the ghost, the leftover cake.
“Margo is in no shape for riding,” Dylan scolded her. “And none of the bat Shifters are to go outside until Zelda gets here and takes care of this. Those are Cuban boas,” he pointed out again. “They eat fruit bats.”
“We’re their main diet,” Ernesto added. “They form groups and hang in curtains at the mouths of our caves, waiting to snatch us out of the air.”
“Who needs a curtain of snakes when they have wings?” Daisy scooped up Asher as he tried to sneak past her to the window.
“I wanna see,” he protested.
“Is this room the safest one we could be in right now?” Daisy asked, ignoring her son’s griping.
“It won’t be for much longer,” I told her, digging deep to stir the storm cauldron. I handed my wittle witch to Hermosa and grabbed the corner of the changing table, pulling myself upright. My knees wobbled, and I almost went back down.
“Careful, mija.” Hermosa’s brow creased, but she tried to keep her voice low, not wanting to wake the baby. “You are not at your best. Let the Booboo Yoyo witch handle this. You need rest.”
“Booboo Yoyo?” I shook my head. “You mean the Baba Yaga?”
“Yes, that one.” Hermosa nodded.
Zelda had plenty of colorful nicknames—like the Shifter Wanker—but I somehow doubted she would care for this new one. Hermosa had a knack for accidentally butchering names. At least, I thought it was accidental. Sangria might have disagreed.
“What’s that?” Daisy asked, pressing in closer to the window despite her initial effort to keep Asher from seeing. “Are those words?”
“Whoa.” Asher’s eyes swelled to the size of pawpaws. “Those are big snakes. Hey! Get away from my friends!” he screamed, shaking his fist.
A line of belfry bats skittered past the window with a fat, spotted boa hot on their tails. Wings the size of an eagle’s were mounted to the snake’s backside, attached by thick, dark stitches.
My heart was suddenly in my throat, and I was sure I’d puke it out any second. I knew that handiwork.
“No, no, no,” I moaned. My grip on the changing table faltered, but Dylan noticed and caught my arm, easing me into the rocking chair. “This can’t be happening. Not now.”
“Zelda will fix it,” he assured me.
“There’s a message in the clouds. It looks like smoke,” Daisy said, trying to push Asher’s curious face into the crook of her neck. “Surrender... Margo...” she read slowly.
“It’s Isaac,” I whispered to Dylan. “He’s here.”
Broomzilla made a rude gesture with her bristles and then zipped out of the room.
I stood and leaned against the shelf under the window, watching as she appeared outside and smudged out the dark message with the business end of her handle.
A flying boa hissed at her, and she jerked in surprise, briefly turning herself into an exclamation point before turning woodgrain over bristles and smacking the abomination under the chin, snapping its fangs shut.
Broomzilla rubbed her bristles in challenge as her opponent recovered, then she tore off, leading it away from the belfry and nursery below.
“Why isn’t Zelda here yet?” Daisy turned an anxious circle. Asher was still clutched in her arms, his muffled cries becoming more annoyed until she remembered and let him up for air. “Sorry, bub.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help,” Papa Ernesto said, frowning at the lot of us. “I’m already dead, and while my ghost is able to depart, it’s still confined to the house as long as I’m on this plane.”
I blinked at the scattering of clouds in the sky, willing them to churn for me. They replied in slow motion, and my body replied in a trembling ache that sent me back to the rocking chair. Of all the days for my moody storm magic to fail me.
“PATHETIC,” a booming voice cut through the glass. “THIS IS THE LEGENDARY SKY CAULDRON? OUR FAMILY’S GIFTS ARE WASTED ON YOU, MARGO WEST.”
“Hernández,” Mama Hermosa corrected, though her courage shriveled as a boa slapped against the nursery window. Another one hit the opposite window, drawing a shrill squeal out of Hermosa.
Issac had found us.
“Where are you, Zee?” I scanned the clouds for my friend, but a different witch loomed on the horizon.
“Emmy.” I bit off her name like a curse before noticing Glinda beside her, leather legs wrapped around her broom as they torpedoed in our direction.
As soon as they were in range, a flash of green light cut through the sky, and then they appeared in the room.
“Where’s Zelda?” I yelled over the thundering assault of reptiles.
“She’s a little busy with our mother right now, trapped in one of her maze illusions,” Emmy said, her cool gaze unapologetic. Her head cocked at the bloodstained rug, and then tilted the other direction when she noticed my daughter in Hermosa’s arms.
“Zee’s smart and will find her way out, I’m sure,” Glinda said.
“It was a diversion. We just realized too late.” She winced, but her attention soon turned to the slithery creatures trying to find a way inside.
“Wicked.” She stared in awe a moment before blushing at my obvious disgust. “I mean, if they weren’t here to eat your in-laws, that is.
Bad, bad Isaac. For shame,” she added, inching back a step as the sky grumbled.
“And what’s your take on this?” I demanded of Emmy as I dragged myself up and off the rocking chair again. This was no time for sitting. Noodle legs be damned.
Emmy shrugged. “I’m tired of being pushed around by our family. Time to set some boundaries, even if that means helping the white sheep escape their clutches.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” I held my hands open, glad I was at least able to stand on my own again. “I just had a baby. I’m not exactly battleworthy right now.”
The mere thought of putting a broom between my legs made me weak in the knees. I steadied myself on the bookshelf and tried not to flinch when another snake bounced off the window.
“We’re going to work smarter, not harder. That’s how.” Emmy hitched one of her perfect brows, and a familiar purple magic bubbled up from her manicured fingertips. My nose itched in response, having grown a wart more often than not whenever my cousin fired up her magic.
“Wings first?” Glinda asked her sister.
Emmy nodded. “I’ll use my dermaplaning blades to cut the stitches. Isaac won’t even see it coming.”
“If we could get them linked together somehow...” Glinda’s lime green magic crackled eagerly.
“Like in a wind funnel?” I offered, wondering if my magic could handle that much. Maybe just a small one...
“You’d only have to hold it long enough to draw them all in, and then bam! I’d zap them back to Cuba, just a little crispier than they arrived.”
A snakenado would really test the new hurricane glass in the nursery, but it was our best and only option.
“Okay,” I agreed, drawing a horrified gasp from Dylan.
“You can’t be serious!” He thrust a hand back at the wittle witch and Hermosa. “You should be taking shelter with Mama and bitty bat. Zelda will be here any minute now.”
“But what if she’s not?” I closed my eyes and tried to stand up straighter, letting go of the bookshelf.
“Nathan and the batamigas are downstairs, scared for their lives. The belfry bats are outside and fighting for theirs. It’s only a matter of time before Isaac’s feature creatures find a way inside. I have to at least try to help.”
Emmy blinked at me. “You’re braver than I gave you credit for.” Was that a compliment?
“Thanks? I think.” I smiled awkwardly at her, my face resisting this strange turn of events.
“Hold still,” Emmy said, sending every hair on my body up in warning. “This will only take a second.”
“What are you—” Before I could finish, the throbbing weakness in my groin and abdomen faded to a dull ache, and the clouds rippled, expressing my gratitude involuntarily. I could most definitely summon a wind funnel now.
“I thought you went to Europe for cosmetic magic?” I said, shooting my cousin a skeptical frown.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Which includes tummy tucks and, shall we say...other bodily rejuvenation? You didn’t think I’d build a whole career around pimples and warts, did you?”
“Well...” Maybe that wasn’t something I should admit out loud, lest she take offense and dust off her book of wicked ailments.
“Blemishes are fun for revenge, but crafting beauty is where the real money is,” Emmy went on, unscathed by my rotten opinion of her. “Of course, beauty doesn’t carry quite the reputation the West name demands, does it?”
Having something in common with my cousin had not been on my bingo card today.
Another snake smacked the window, triggering Glinda’s crackling magic.
The sky cauldron rumbled at my displeasure.
Clouds darkened and began to circle overhead, exposing Isaac’s hiding place.
His long cloak fluttered in my increasing gale, and though he glared at us, doubt pinched at the corners of his hateful eyes and dragged down the ends of his greasy mustache.
“When did that happen?” I made a face at Glinda, wondering how she could have skipped over such a glaring detail.
“It wasn’t there when I left Kansas,” she insisted.
“He’s been growing it since winter solstice.” Emmy loosed a heavy sigh. “He thinks it will make Uncle Redrick take him more seriously as an heir to the West fortune, but so far, it’s not had the desired effect on our reputation.”
“Let’s see what they have to say about that West reputation after we blast these slithering atrocities somewhere over the rainbow,” I said, pushing the clouds faster and faster.
Broomzilla darted around the corner of the belfry. She’d noticed the shift in the sky and was taking shelter. Even the flying boas seemed suddenly apprehensive.
Emmy’s work was more covert. One second, the boas’ wings beat against the wind, dragging them away from the funnel reaching out of the clouds.
The next, feathers rained like Icarus had ventured too close to the sun, and snakenado was born.
A slithering, hissing mass of hysteria. It was horrifying, and—to a degree—beautiful. Even Isaac couldn’t peel his eyes away.
It was enough to strike terror into any heart. Which, if we’re being honest, is what West witches lived for. Aunt Evillene would have been so proud.
That thought alone snapped me out of my trance, and I elbowed Glinda. “You’re up, buttercup.”
“Right.” My cousin blinked and shook her head. She was just as stunned by our creation as I was. She flicked a finger under her eye, wiping away what I hoped was a lash and not a tear. Her electricity sparked at her fingertips and then arched through the glass window and into the funnel.
“No!” Isaac’s hand reached for the snakenado, but his defensive spell wasn’t fast enough. It was three against one—and I was on the right side of the equation for a change.
With Emmy, Glinda, and my magic combined, the spell we wove forged our voices into one.
* * *
Return all ye drafted, foul and reptilian
No longer in service, no longer a minion
Your master is banished, defeated, and beaten
If he finds you again, consider him eaten
By South, East, North, and West
Creations unmade we now lay to rest
* * *