? ? ?
Back in human form, I felt much better, except for the hunger that raged through me; I had used up a lot of energy on the second shift. I dressed and got a step stool, placing the vinyl bag on the top shelf of my closet behind everything, and initiated the hedge of thorns ward back over it. It looked weird up there, some ten feet off the ground. I had never set the super-duper ward on anything up high, and the energies had formed a sphere around the bag and through the shelf. It wasn’t easy to see in the dark of the closet except in Beast-vision, though I was certain that Angie would be able to see it if she got high enough. I took the step stool with me and inspected the room to see if an enterprising and determined little witchy girl could stack furniture and climb up there. I didn’t see how, and I was pretty sure that levitation wasn’t part of the witch repertoire.
When I came out of my room, I took the stool with me and deposited it in the butler’s pantry. On the top shelf was a mad cat, her tail tip twitching and her eyes slit nearly shut. “Sorry about dropping you, KitKit.” She managed to ignore me with utter disdain.
In the kitchen, I could smell oatmeal cooking, and my mouth watered. It was cooked just the way I like it—old-fashioned oats dumped into boiling, slightly salted water. Cooked for a minute, two at most, then re-dumped into a big bowl filled with enough real sugar to bring on a diabetic coma, and lots of milk. The absolute best. I practically inhaled it and felt the sugary energy and complex carbs start to work on me immediately.
Molly joined us and looked from the empty bowl to my hair, which was now unbraided and hanging to my hips in a black swing. And was dry, which was nice. “How’s Beast?” she asked, putting together the signs of a recent shift.
“She’s good. How’s Angie?”
“Pouting. She’s currently in magical time-out, which makes her angrier. I don’t understand what’s going on or how she . . .” Molly shook her head in frustration, her reddish mop bouncing. I only now noticed that she had cut her hair. The short, curly style looked good on her, professional, smart, and chic, but I bet Big Evan had not been happy. Molly added, “I don’t know how she did what she did.” She lifted her cell. “I have a dozen phone calls to make, including one to my husband about that child. I smell tea steeping, and I’d love to have a cup.”
“You want a shot of whiskey in it?” Eli asked.
“Actually that sounds amazing. I’m sure it’s five somewhere in the world. But just a dribble, please.” Molly turned and left the kitchen, already tapping calls into her cell. My eyebrows went up. Molly accepting alcohol in the middle of the day? That was another strange part of an already strange day.
Eli took my bowl—a mixing bowl that had held twelve cups of oatmeal—put it in the sink, and ran water into it while he poured tea for Molly and me. He put my mug on the table beside my elbow, along with a tub of Cool Whip and little cup of real cream, and carried Molly’s tea, with its drip of whiskey in it, to her. I looked at the Cool Whip and the cream. Cool Whip in tea was comfort food, but it only worked with cheap tea. This smelled like the good stuff, and so I added a teaspoon of sugar and a dollop of the cream. It was perfect. I sat, sipping, listening to Eli as he tiptoed up the stairs and checked in on Angie and then came back down. He took a cup from the espresso maker and sat across from me, his dark eyes even darker with worry. “What happened?” he asked.
I held the warm mug for a moment and set it down, leaving my fingers lightly circled around the ceramic heat. “Molly had sent me a portable hedge and I activated it over the vinyl bag holding the skull and Molly’s charms. It was a new working that was geared to not only stop a regular thief but also a magical thief. Most magical thieves. If the arcenciel had gotten to it, I can’t guarantee that she would have been stopped. For all I know she might have swallowed the whole thing and taken off.” I waved that thought away. “Anyway. The new working has manacles built into it so a thief can’t get to the bag, and also can’t get away. They’re trapped there. When Angie touched it, the working grabbed Angie’s hands and wrists with the manacles. When I was outside of time, I watched as she shot little black light magics into them and into the hedge, trying to get loose. I didn’t turn off the hedge. She used raw magics to get free.”