

## Don't Rhine on My Parade

### A Suburban Fantasy

### Book One in the Rhine Maiden Series

### by Erin Evans

Don't Rhine on My Parade

Copyright Erin Evans 2008, 2013

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# Chapter One

I dreamed again of those pitch black eyes, staring at me. Cold, alien, hungry. It was the same nightmare I always had. I was trying to run away, but this time my feet were stuck to the ground. The eyes were getting closer and closer and in a moment I would see the teeth I had tried so hard to forget: long, sharp, and deadly white. Then the dream changed. Instead of teeth, there were hands, closing around my neck and slowly choking the life out of me as I screamed and screamed and woke myself in a panic.

The piercing wail of screams moved from part of my dream into reality. A soft cloud was pressed firmly into my face, slowly suffocating me. Otis, my huge cat, got a shove that was meant to knock him off the bed but only succeeded in dislodging him from my pillow. I sat up, spitting out cat hair, my heart-rate still going a million miles an hour.

"Your turn," my husband mumbled, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head. I groaned. The dream was fading and my fear was quickly turning into resigned annoyance as the screams were increasing in volume and intensity. I gave Otis another shove as he tried to usurp my abandoned pillow and he waddled with as much dignity as he possessed to the end of the bed where he tried to skewer me with a look of abject disdain. He never seemed to understand why I didn't appreciate his nightly show of affection. In his mind he was paying me the greatest compliment by getting as close to me as physically possible. (I'm sure it was also the height of compliment when he rubbed orange and white hair all over my black pants, but I didn't appreciate that either.)

The screaming had now reached epic proportions. It sounded as if a hapless victim was being disemboweled and skinned alive at the same time. I threw on my bathrobe and staggered through the still dark house. It was _way_ too early for this. It was _always_ way too early for this. I missed the days when I got to sleep in. I popped open the child safety gate in the back hall with a little too much force and marched into my children's room.

" _What Is Going On_?!" I queried in a calm and reasoned manner. Okay, it was more like a barely controlled scream. Not a good way to start the day. I'm sure there are parents out there that never raise their voices, but I am sorry to say that I am _not_ one of them.

I took a deep breath and surveyed the room. Every book from the shelf was now on the floor. Every toy bin from the closet had been emptied onto the floor. Every puzzle had been dumped and the pieces scattered. Clothes had been pulled out of drawers, shoes were everywhere, and blankets and pillows had been ripped off the two twin beds. If the proverbial tornado had hit the room it could scarcely have looked worse.

In the middle of this mayhem, half buried in the mess, sat my two little daughters, Cassidy, age two, and Megan, age four. Cassie was the one emitting the migraine producing screams. Her hair was a tangled rat's nest, a bright red mark adorned her cheek, and tears were streaming down her face.

"I didn't do anything!" Megan yelled as soon as I walked in. She tried to hide a hairbrush behind her back.

"What happened?" I asked at a lower decibel, clearing a space on the floor with my foot so that I could flop down and gather Cassie up into my lap. She was still hysterical and impossible to decipher through the sobs. Not that I could ever easily understand her baby gibberish.

I pierced Megan with a gimlet glare. "What did you do? Don't lie to me."

I could see Megan trying to come up with the best story. "I didn't do anything!" she repeated, "I was just brushing her hair." I looked down at the knotted mess in question and sighed.

Cassie, still sobbing, burst out, "Eg it me!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed again, "Did you hit your sister, Megan?"

She was still trying to put a good spin on it, "She wouldn't sit still. I was trying to fix her hair and make her look pretty." I noticed that the tangle contained some added hair clips.

"And so you _hit_ her?" I don't know why I sounded so surprised. It wasn't like this had never happened before.

"But, Mom!" Megan's face told me she thought she had the perfect get-out-of-jail-free card. "Then she tried to _bite_ me!"

"Okay." I struggled to my feet, still holding an almost quiet Cassie, "You are in time out."

" _What_?" You would think I'd just sent her off to Siberia.

"Time. Out." I mouthed the words with emphasis. "You do _not_ hit your sister. I don't care what she tried to do to you. Do. Not. Hit." For a moment I felt the temptation to enforce the command welling up in my chest, but pushed the feeling down. Cassidy started squirming in my arms.

"Wanna pay." Apparently her previously life threatening wounds had miraculously healed now that her sister was in trouble. I sighed once again and let her down. Exasperation seemed to be an almost constant emotion for me, only alleviated by moments of heartwarming bliss when everything was calm, and little arms clasped my neck and little lips whispered, "I love you, Mommy."

"I'm going to get a shower. You two play nicely together until I get back."

"Am I still in time out?" Megan interrupted.

I mentally slapped my forehead. "Yes. You sit on your bed. Cassidy, leave her alone and play by yourself." The giggling started before I was even half-way across the living room. Giggling and laughing were good; they were also just a fraction away from screaming and fighting. Oh well, they were happy for the moment. I thought about going back to make sure Megan was really staying on her bed, but then thought better of it. It might not be the best parenting technique but sometimes I had to operate under what-I-don't-know-I-don't-have-to-deal-with.

My husband, Mark, was sleeping soundly when I returned and I almost crawled back in next to him, but I knew whatever sleep I managed to catch would be short lived. Besides, Otis was ensconced once more on my pillow and he looked adorable. Sue me, I love my cat. Before Otis I had always been a dog person. Cats were too unfriendly and detached for my liking. But Otis made it clear he adored me so I loved him right back. Cat hairs and all.

Thinking of dogs, I had forgotten all about Harvey. I turned back around and opened the laundry room door. Harvey was there, waiting patiently. He was a little, black Cairn Terrier. A Toto dog, if you will. He had to sleep in the laundry room at night because he sometimes forgot that the bathroom was outside. Cute as a button and probably about as smart (My apologies to buttons). We had adopted him from the Humane Society in a moment of weakness. He had been three years old and the sign on his cage said "partially housebroken."

"Why on earth would someone dump off such a sweet dog?" I had cried, cuddling the squirming body that was trying to plant wet doggy kisses all over my face.

Mark pointed to the sign, "Maybe because he's not housebroken."

"Oh no." I was totally confident. "They probably abused him and locked him alone in the house all day. He's probably perfectly housebroken if taken care of."

That was three years, tons of frustration, multiple rug cleanings, and repeated training attempts ago. Harvey could now be trusted in the house as long as someone was there to open the sliding glass door as soon as he whined to go out. Harvey was also the cause of the biggest rationalized compromise in my life. I always felt a little guilty when I looked at him, but my sanity and the cleanliness of my house were totally worth it. Or so I told myself.

I walked Harvey to the back door. "Go off the porch, through the dog door and go potty outside," I commanded him. He gave me a happy dog look and trotted off. I slid the door closed but watched to make sure he obeyed. His memory was not the greatest and I had to be very specific with my commands. One day I had opened the door, half asleep, and just commanded, "Go potty." You can imagine what happened.

Mark made jokes about how specific I was in my instructions, as if I thought Harvey actually understood me. Those jokes made me hugely uncomfortable, since he also noticed that Harvey obeyed me better than anyone else.

By the time I got a shower, got dressed, and started getting the girls' breakfast, my sleepy husband was up moving around. "Mark!" I hollered from the kitchen, "Do you want eggs for breakfast?" He rushed out of our room, laptop case in hand, and gave me a quick kiss.

"I'm late, babe. I'll just grab a breakfast bar." He planted a kiss on each of the girls' heads and was out the door. Amazing that, no matter what time he woke up, he always had to rush out the door without helping with breakfast. Okay, that's not _totally_ fair. Some days he tried to let me sleep in, but it is impossible to sleep in a house where little children are awake and squealing and I always gave in and got up.

"I don't like eggs," Megan announced.

"I wasn't going to give you eggs."

"But I don't _like_ them," she insisted.

"I'm not _giving_ you eggs," I said again a little louder.

"Mommy, I _don't_ like them."

I sighed yet again. It was going to be one of those days. Don't get me wrong, I _love_ being a stay-at-home-mom! It's just that sometimes I yearn for more adult conversation. Eight hours alone with a four year-old and a two year-old can drive you a little bonkers.

Mark and I had gotten married right out of college so I had never had a "real" job. Like everyone in college I had been full of high aspirations. I was going to conquer the world! Be the best! Have people looking up to me and respecting me! Well, some of those came true. I hadn't conquered the world, most days I was happy if I could just conquer the laundry. I wasn't the best or even close. But I _did_ have people looking up to me, mostly because I was taller, but it still counted.

What I really wanted, more than anything in the world, was to be _normal._ Every day that went by where no one looked at me and said, "What _are_ you?" was a success in my book. Most people don't want to think of themselves as normal. It seems too mundane. They want to be different and exciting. Not me. I _was_ different, and I didn't like it.

I'm not your normal mom. I'm not even your normal person. Some days I worry that I'm not a person at all. Except for commanding Harvey around, (which is totally called for) I've been able to completely repress my ability. Not even my husband knows what I am.

I am a monster.

# Chapter Two

It started when I was twelve. I wanted to get my ears pierced. Dad thought I was too young. He said I didn't take care of my belongings and I wasn't responsible enough to care for the piercings. He told my Mom horror stories of infected ears and girls losing their hearing.

My older sister Karen had pierced ears. All my friends had pierced ears. I was convinced that I was the oldest girl in the entire world to _not_ have her ears pierced. It made me look like a baby. I knew that if only I could wear earrings a whole new world of adult emotions and maturity would be mine. I would finally be what I so wanted to be – grown up.

I begged. I pleaded. I pouted. I connived. I tried everything I could think of. I made promises that, in retrospect, would have been impossible to keep. I tried mature, rational negotiating. I tried the silent treatment. Nothing changed my Dad's mind.

One day all my frustrations boiled over. A popular girl at school had just gotten her _second_ set of piercings, and was flaunting them to the entire class.

I could see how fascinated everyone was. How the boys laughed and joked with her. How the girls looked up to her. And I longed to be that confident and carefree. If only _I_ had pierced ears, I would be a new me. People would like me. People would think I was beautiful.

I had wandered too close and the girl noticed me. She'd never noticed me before, but now I had caught her attention. She stopped in mid-laugh and gave me a stare that questioned why such a lowly worm was daring to intrude into her circle of sparkling awesomeness.

I wanted to sink into the ground, but I drew up my courage and said softly, "I like your new earrings."

She's rolled her eyes, "Thanks," she said, looking around at her friends to show how silly it was for her to be talking with a lower creature.

"Did it hurt?" I'd asked, wanting to run and hide, but also taking advantage of the sudden lull in the conversation.

She had half-turned away, but now she swung back, annoyed at my persistence. Her eyes roamed my body from head to toe, zeroing in on my unadorned earlobes. "What?" she'd sneered, "Is that why you don't have pierced ears? Are you so much a baby that you're scared of a little pain?"

"Baby! Baby!" some of the other girls chanted, thrilled to join in with mocking someone else. It was either mock or be mocked and we all knew what side we wanted to be on.

"I am not a baby!" I'd yelled back, my eyes welling with tears.

"You are too!" the girl had shot back. "If you're not a baby, prove it!" She grabbed a thumbtack off the wall. "Stick this through your ear!"

I was trembling with fear and excitement. I wanted those earrings so bad, but I knew that if I returned with holes in my ears I would be grounded for a month. I couldn't deliberately disobey my father like that.

"Stick it through your ear!" she'd said triumphantly, seeing my refusal. "Stick it through your ear, _baby_!"

Rage rose in my chest till I could hardly see straight. "Stick it through your own ear!" I yelled at her and raced off to hide in one of the bathroom stalls. It wasn't until the next day that I heard the story. Heard how a girl in my class had accidently fallen and gotten a thumbtack jammed in her ear. That was the official story. The one they had told the adults. But another story circled the school in whispers. Whispers that she had taken the tack herself and violently thrust it through her ear.

If I had stayed a minute longer, perhaps I wouldn't have faced off with my dad that night. We were at the mall, shopping for a birthday present for my mom and we passed a piercing kiosk.

"Please, dad?" I'd begged. "Please can I get my ears pierced?"

"No," he'd said, distracted and not taking me seriously.

I'd stamped my foot. "It's not fair!" I'd snarled quietly. "Everybody else has their ears pierced! You let Karen pierce her ears when she was younger than me! Why can't I get mine pierced?"

"You're just not responsible enough yet, Piper," he'd said calmly, refusing to budge.

In my head, I heard all the kids chanting, "Baby! Baby! Baby!" I was _not_ a baby! I was not scared of the pain. I would show everyone!

My dad was already walking away and I tugged at his arm. "You have to let me get my ears pierced now!" I'd said, emotion filling me till I felt like a water balloon about to burst.

To my surprise, he'd sighed, squeezed my hand and said, "Okay. If you really want it that bad, you can get your ears pierced, Piper."

I'd sat down on the chair in a daze, hardly believing my good luck. I didn't understand why he had changed his mind so quickly. What had I said to convince him? I didn't even feel the pinch as the needle shot through my flesh. I was just so happy. Now people at school would take me seriously. Now I would be a _somebody._

As we drove home my dad kept looking over at me and shaking his head. "I can't believe I let you do that," he'd said in wonder.

"Thank you so much, daddy!" I'd smiled. "You're the best!"

"Your mother is going to kill me," he'd muttered.

She didn't. She just laughed and laughed. After all the times he had stood his ground, she thought it hilarious that he had so quickly caved.

I went to school that next day proudly sporting my studs, reaching up to spin them gently, making sure that they were really there. I thought that nothing could ruin my effervescent mood, until I heard the whispers, saw the hooded stares, felt the nervous fear that followed me down the halls.

That was when I knew the truth. There was something wrong with me. I was a monster.

I tried to tell myself that I was imagining things and pretty soon it blew over, erased from memory by the latest teenage drama. I wondered though, but as the months passed, even I started to forget. Every time something happened I would explain it away. But there were more instances. Probably more than I even realized. A teacher who was notorious for never allowing extensions happily gave me an extra week on my paper. A police officer gave me a warning instead of the ticket I deserved. I was hired as a summer intern by a company who had filled their last slot the day before my interview, yet somehow made room for me.

The older I grew the more I started to recognize the signs. The sudden change of mind in the person I was talking to. An uncharacteristic acquiescence to whatever it was I wanted, followed minutes later by a puzzled look, the person surprised at their own actions. I began to fear myself.

I didn't know what it was, but I called it the Voice. I could feel deep inside me a change, a way of speaking that forced people to my will. Most of the time I could control it, I would begin to experience the feeling building inside me and I would push it down, refuse to speak, or simply flee the situation that was tempting me. But sometimes it would pop out when I wasn't expecting and turn my words into horrible weapons against a person's free will.

I wanted to talk with my parents. To ask what was happening to me. But I was too afraid. It was too strange. Too hard to explain. I doubted they would believe me and worried about what would happen if they did.

Every time I slipped up I would renew my vow to _not_ use the Voice. It was evil and creepy and I was sure that I could control it, bottle it up, and never have to face it again. I thought I was alone, the only monster in the world, and I resolved to be even more normal than everyone else. Until one night in college I used the Voice again.

It was junior year and I was downtown, leaving the gym where I had been trying to work off my freshman fifteen at a Zumba class. The parking lot had been packed that night and I had been forced to park down the street. I had my gym bag slung over my shoulder and I trotted quickly to my car, eager to return to the dorm to shower and eat back all the calories I had just burned with a tub of ice cream.

There was a popular club on the corner, the kind where the music pulses so loudly that conversation is impossible, and dancing involves swaying in a huge group of tightly packed people. I'd gone once with my roommate, Beth, and had quickly decided that it was not for me.

As I passed the alley next to the club I heard a familiar voice laughing. It sounded like Beth. I paused in mid-stride and debated what to do. She was an adult and I wasn't her keeper, but I didn't want to leave her alone in a dark alley. Something seemed off.

I reached for my phone but stopped. I didn't know who to call or what to say. "I think I hear my roommate down a spooky alley and I'm going to investigate" just sounded too silly.

I bit my lip and thought about it. As a child my mother had filled my head with warnings about strangers, about strangers' cars, about strangers with candy, about going out at night alone, about drunk drivers, and especially, as I got older, about date rape drugs. There was no way you would find a Schultz girl alone in an alley at night! And yet here I was, ready to do just that.

I carefully arranged my car keys in my fingers so as to make a weapon which would probably be highly ineffective but made me feel slightly safer. So armed, I stepped out of the comforting glow of the street light and walked down the alley.

I heard Beth laugh again and I was sure this time that it was her. She sounded drunk, which was not exactly a surprise. Beth had no head for alcohol and made really dumb choices when she was drunk. Choices like leaving the club and hanging out in an alley. Oh, I could slap her!

"Beth?" I called cautiously. There were several dumpsters lined up by the club's back door and the voices I heard were coming from beyond them. I rounded the dumpster and saw I had been right, it was Beth and she wasn't alone.

She was leaning against the dirty alley wall, shoes held in one hand and laughing up into the face of a young man I had never seen before. He was hovering over her possessively, one hand on the wall by her head and the other placed on her bare thigh. I disliked him at once. This was clearly the sort of stranger that my mother had tried to warn me about.

I marched up to them, determined to take Beth home to safety. "Oh, _there_ you are!" I said cheerfully. "I've been looking all over for you. It's time to go home."

She laughed again in surprise. "What're you doing here?" she slurred.

The man refused to back off of her, his eyes glittering strangely in the dark. I didn't want to get close to him, but Beth wasn't leaving me a lot of options. I approached gingerly and took her arm.

"It's time to go home," I said gently, trying not to make eye contact with the man.

"I don't wanna . . ." she trailed off. "Let's get 'nother drink!" She squealed with laughter.

I got a firmer hold on her arm. "Let's go, Beth."

The man spoke, still not taking his hand off her leg. "She doesn't want to go."

I finally got a good look at him and it gave me the chills. It wasn't just that he was tall and ripped, or that he had a spider tattoo covering the side of his neck. He was creepy. I wanted to run away and leave Beth behind. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like I was going to faint.

"I'm going home with him," Beth slurred with a smile, poking the guy in the chest. My eyes widened. There was _no way_ I was letting her go home with this guy. I couldn't. And suddenly I knew what I had to do.

My brain protested. I had promised myself that I would never use the Voice. But I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't _force_ her to come with me physically. And she _needed_ to come with me. It was for her own safety. I _had_ to force her with the Voice. It was the right thing to do.

"Beth, come with me now," I commanded.

The young man's head shot up and he stared at me. I felt like a deer in the headlights. Part of my brain was screaming at me to run, and another part was frozen in fear, hoping that if I stayed still he wouldn't see it.

_He knows what I've done_ , I thought.

The whites of his eyes turned black and became bottomless pits that threatened to pull me in and drown me. I tore my gaze away and grabbed blindly at Beth.

"Wait," the man said and I caught a glimpse of his teeth. I swear I saw his canines grow longer. It sounds crazy now, like a bad B movie, but I know what I saw. Even though what I saw can't exist, _doesn't_ exist, I knew what he was, and it scared the living daylights out of me. But all that mattered then was that he was a predator and I was lunch. I knew we had to get out of there _fast_.

I grabbed Beth and pulled. The man grabbed her other arm.

"Stay," he said seductively.

I used the one move I had learned from my semester of Karate and kicked him as hard as I could in the crotch. He stumbled back with a puff of expelled air, but he wasn't rolling on the floor screaming like my dojo master had promised. In fact, he was smiling like he was enjoying this.

I looked frantically around for a weapon and saw a length of two by four lying in between the dumpsters. Dropping Beth's arm I snatched it up.

"This will be fun," the man said, flashing razor sharp teeth at me.

He leaped for me as I swung as hard as I could. I would have missed if Beth hadn't chosen that moment to try and intervene. She stumbled between us, colliding with the man and knocking his head directly into the path of my board. It connected with a wet slap and the impact stung my fingers into numbness.

The young man fell face down to the ground, blood pooling under his head. I was sure I had killed him.

"What did you do?" Beth shrieked, finally realizing what was happening.

"I killed him," I said dropping the board in shock.

We stood there, hearts pounding, staring at the corpse.

"We have to call the police," I whispered. I reached into my pocket for my phone and the body on the ground _stirred._

Beth screamed.

"Forget the police," I said, grabbing her arm and racing down the alley. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost couldn't unlock the car, and I ran every red light from there to the campus, but we made it to the dorm safely.

Beth was sobering up quickly, the adrenaline forcing the alcohol from her system. "What happened?" she asked me, after we triple locked our door and stood panting on the other side.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

I couldn't explain what we had seen. Not without sounding crazy. I knew how hard I had hit the man. My blow should have killed him, but as we'd run away, I'd looked back and seen him climbing to his feet.

One thing I was sure of: I was a monster, and I was not alone.

# Chapter Three

I thought long and hard that next week. I thought about who I was, and what I could do, and what it meant if things like me were possible. Stuff I should have thought about long before, but had been too busy pretending to be normal. I had wanted to believe that fairy tales were stories you read to small children, that magic was a Disney invention, and that humans were it. Facing the Voice changed all that.

I came back around to my original conclusion. I would never use the Voice again. And when, one day, as I crossed the campus between classes, I saw the young man from the alley scanning the faces of students as they passed, I transferred my credits to a college in another state and never looked back. I don't _know_ that he was looking for me, but I wasn't going to hang around to find out.

My parents were utterly perplexed. None of my made up reasons for transferring made sense to them. They were pretty sure I was having an emotional breakdown. I wasn't sleeping too well at night. I kept dreaming of black eyes and my grades suffered. But that's when I met Mark and the rest, as they say, is history.

He was great. He was big and strong, tall and handsome. He made me feel safe and protected. He carried my book bag and opened doors. He walked me to my door at night and always put his body between mine and the street when we were out walking. He was funny and loyal and totally normal. I fell in love with him at once. It was tempting at times to confess all my secrets to him, but I didn't.

I should have told him. I _know_ I should have told him. A marriage has to be based on honesty and trust. But I didn't tell him. I was never going to use my ability again, so it was as if I didn't really have it, I rationalized. Besides, what man would be able to live with the fear of being under his wife's control? It wouldn't be fair to him to tell him and have him always wondering whether he was doing what _he_ wanted to do or what _I_ wanted him to do.

So when he asked me to marry him, I said, "yes!" and when we walked down the aisle, I said, "I do." And I swore to myself again that I would never, _ever_ use the Voice again. It was a lot harder than I thought. I was tempted whenever we fought or disagreed. I was sorely tempted when I wanted to get pregnant and he didn't, but I did nothing and he came around on his own. And most of all I was tempted every single day of being a parent.

How nice it would be to have children who actually obeyed! You have no idea what temptation is until you are standing in the checkout line at Walmart and your child is throwing a temper tantrum on the floor and everyone is looking at you like you are a horrible mother. But I had made myself a promise and I kept it.

Except for Harvey. I had to use the Voice with Harvey. He's the cutest little dog in the world and I love him. But he's also probably the _dumbest_ dog in the world. I tried to housebreak him for over a year. I did everything the books said to do. I even tried _doggie diapers_ at one point. That's love. When I got down to my last straw and was actually searching the internet for Cairn Rescue places to turn him in, I broke down in frustration and used the Voice. To my surprise, it worked. As long as I made him go outside to pee on a regular basis, we had no more accidents in the house.

But animals are different from people. With a person you are stealing their free-will. It's almost a form of slavery. With an animal it's just the natural order of things. They're _supposed_ to obey, and if a little Voice is needed, then it's not really hurting anyone. Is it?

Even with all the temptations, I felt I was succeeding at my normal life. Hiding didn't mean I was scared. Hiding was cool. Movie stars hid from the paparazzi, spies hid from the enemy, what else hid? Chameleons! Chameleons are cool, right? See, hiding and acting normal was fine.

The truth was, after a long day of being with my daughters, I didn't have energy to worry about hiding, or being normal, or anything. I'd never dreamed that being a stay-at-home mom was such a demanding and exhausting job, but I was doing my best. Trying to be normal. As normal as being a parent ever is, which is not too normal, if you ask me. (I never thought I would be asking questions like, "Why are you trying to flush your shoe down the toilet?")

I hadn't used the Voice on another person since that night outside the club, and I thought, once again, that I was in total control. I had no idea how wrong I was.

* * *

"I yon't ike it!" Cassie screamed at me, crossing her arms tightly across her body.

"I don't care," I smiled back calmly. "Your Tinkerbell shirt is dirty. You have to wear Cinderella today." I waved the shirt in front of her face, "See? Cinderella! She's so pretty, you love Cinderella!" (The parenting books say it's important to remain calm and positive when arguing with a toddler.)

Cassie was just starting to be convinced when Megan piped in.

"She said she doesn't like it, Mom." Like I hadn't understood. "She wants her Tinkerbell shirt."

"Thank you so much, Megan. Now please be quiet."

Cassidy was watching her sister so I took the opportunity to slip the shirt quickly over her head. "There! You look beautiful!"

She started wailing and threw herself on her bed sobbing. I shrugged. Oh well. She'd have to get over it sooner or later. Megan was shaking her head. "I told you she didn't like that shirt."

I glared at her. I was not going to be one of those moms who let their children wear the same clothes day after day because they wouldn't wear anything else. I had principles. I had standards. I glanced over at the laundry bin and briefly thought about sniffing the Tinkerbell shirt to see how bad it smelled. No! We do not give in to terrorists!

"Come on girls. It's time to go!" I put a lot of forced cheer in my voice in an attempt to jolt Cassie out of her crying.

"Where are we going?" asked Megan.

"Shopping!" I said with excitement.

I _hate_ grocery shopping. If there is anything I hate _more_ than grocery shopping, it's grocery shopping with two little children. But, unfortunately, we have to eat.

Cassidy jumped up, tears forgotten, "opping!" she squealed and raced Megan to the back door.

Ten minutes later, after another diaper change, a hunt for a missing shoe, and a quick check through the pantry to make sure I hadn't left anything off the list, we were ready to get buckled in the car. Car seat manufacturers like to make sure that only three-armed mutants can easily buckle a child into their seats. I'm sure it's for safety purposes, but sometimes I miss the days from my childhood when we would lie on the floor of the van and color while mom drove. Now we strap kids down like they're going to the moon and then turn on the car DVD player so their minds can turn to mush on the way.

Mark still hasn't figured out why I don't go out and do a whole lot of stuff during the week. Anytime I say that I'm getting cabin fever his response is, "Why don't you go out and do something?" He doesn't realize that just getting the kids in the car, out of the car, into a shopping cart, out of a shopping cart, back in the car, and then out of the car again at home is a hassle. Forget all the shopping drama and unloading and putting away the groceries!

Finally we were all safely strapped down to the car and ready to go. There was the constant argument of what to listen to in the car. On most days I am the most accommodating of mothers and let them listen to Junior Asparagus sing toddler songs to their little hearts' content. But other days if I hear Junior mangle another melody in his high pitched fake child voice I will scream. On those days I turn to the country station and sing along.

"Ooo-ee/shudma outh/slap my grandma!" Megan sang loudly from the back, before stopping to ask, "What's 'badonkadonk' mean? And why should I slap Granny?"

I quickly hit the volume. "It's just a song, honey. That's not what it really means."

"But why did the man say it then?"

"Just because, baby. Here! Let's listen to Junior!" They always win in the end.

We pulled into the Super Walmart parking lot while Junior was still loop-de-looing on a Saturday night. "Opping!" Cassie yelled.

"Yes, we're at the shopping place. Now what are the two rules, Megan?"

She had to think, "No touching and no biting."

Not _quite_ what I had in mind, but good rules. "Close honey, No touching anything in the store and no wandering off. Stay close to Mommy the whole time, ok?"

"Can we watch a movie in the car on the way home?"

Sure, why not. Bribery works at least some of the time. "If you are very, very good."

The next forty-five minutes were horrific. Everyone in the store knows my children's names by the time we are done. "Don't touch that, Cassie. Come back here, Megan. Leave that alone, Megan. No, Cassie, put that down. Megan! Cassie! Come back here right now! Get off the floor, Cassie, it's dirty. Megan, stop kicking your sister."

On a bad day, if the actual shopping time was unpleasant, the checkout line is nothing short of pure torture. Once you have your groceries on the conveyer belt, you are trapped until the process is done. Whatever lane you pick is the slowest and the people in front of and behind you give you disapproving looks as if to say, "My children would never behave that way in public! Why doesn't that woman _do_ something!"

By the time we got home, and I unloaded the car and put the groceries away, I was exhausted. Then it was time for lunch and naps. When I was a kid I never understood why my mom lay down for a nap every day. After all, naps are for babies right? Big people get to stay up and party. Ha. Naps are an integral part of staying sane.

Of course Megan and Cassidy never go quietly into that good night or good naptime. You would think I was starting a new form of torture every day. For some reason they never remember that they had to take a nap the day before and the day before that, and the day before that and so forth.

Lucky for me, no sooner had I drifted off to sleep than the doorbell rang. Now, I have this lovely little sign, hanging in the window by the front door that says 'Please Do NOT Ring Doorbell. Baby Sleeping,' but apparently ninety percent of Americans really _are_ illiterate. Stumbling towards the door I heard Megan and Cassidy waking up in their room. Argh. We had only slept for forty-five minutes which was at least an hour short of my goal.

When I saw who was peering through my front window I wanted to turn around and go back to bed.

It was Satan.

Okay, so it wasn't the Lord of Darkness, but I swear she does sub work for him when he's out on vacation.

It was my mother-in-law.

# Chapter Four

I know that hating your mother-in-law is cliché. And I am sure there are tons of wonderful, amazing mother-in-laws out there. I was perfectly ready and willing to love mine, but she made up her mind first to hate me. So, what am I to do? Well, in reality, I try to be sickeningly sweet to her face especially around my husband so that he can see what a long suffering angel I am compared to her. I save all my best comments for under my breath and in my head.

I opened the door and tried to put a smile on my bleary face. "Carolyn," I said, failing to muster up much cheer. "Hi."

She was a very petite five-foot-two, but in her high heels, that matched perfectly with her coordinated outfit, she met my five-foot-four eye to eye. I ran a hand through my tousled short cropped hair and hoped I didn't have pillow creases or drool on my face.

"Well, Piper," (She always said my name as if it was an insult.) "Aren't you going to let me in? It's customary for a hostess to invite her guests to enter after greeting them."

"We were napping," I said wearily, then with a rush of courage, "Didn't you see the note on the door?" I pointed to the Do Not Ring Doorbell sign.

"I knocked at first, but no one answered," she said pointedly.

"That's because we were _sleeping_." I was getting a little peeved.

"Granny! Granny! Granny's here!" came the joyful, piercing shrieks behind me. The girls were definitely not going back to sleep now.

"It doesn't appear that you are sleeping _now_ ," my mother-in-law said, sweeping past me at the door.

"What did you bring us?" shouted Megan in complete unashamed greed.

"Megan honey, that's not poli—" I started to correct her.

"Nonsense," interrupted Carolyn. "Of course I brought them something! Who wants cupcakes!"

The cheering and high pitched shrieking rose in volume. Just what they needed. High levels of sugar before dinner.

"Oh, I forgot something in the car," Carolyn trilled, "Let me run get it, I have some more presents for you!"

The girls were getting worked up into a frenzy of excitement. Let it not be said that gifts cannot buy love. I briefly considered locking the door behind her and not letting her back in.

"Here we go!" she returned cheerfully. "Let's go sit down and see what I brought you."

There was a mad dash to the living room. Harvey was lying sprawled out on the couch, all four legs in the air and tongue drooling a puddle on the leather. Carolyn looked at him in disgust.

"Piper, darling, would you mind putting that animal outside? You know how he bothers my allergies."

I scooped Harvey up and kissed him on the nose. I _knew_ there was a reason I loved him so much. Unfortunately he never seemed to bother her allergies enough to keep her away. "I'll just put him in our room," I said, determined not to cast my dog outside like an orphan child.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Carolyn looked shocked. "You know that Mark is allergic to animals. I don't know _why_ he lets you keep them in the house. It's not good for his health."

Mark was no more allergic to animals than she was. I smiled sweetly. "Don't worry. I'm sure it's okay." I carried Harvey off to our room and placed him on the bed in spite. Otis looked up from grooming himself and tried to kill Harvey with his laser eyes. When that failed he merely laid his ears back on his head and hissed. Harvey decided that under the bed was a much better spot.

When I returned, it looked like Toys R Us had exploded in the living room. When Megan was first born, Mark and I had sat down with Carolyn and explained to her that since, at the time, we were living in a small apartment, we did not have room for her to bring toys every time she visited. Apparently she believed that since we were now living in a house we had tons of room.

Megan and Cassidy were beside themselves running from toy to toy. "Did you guys say thank you?" I asked.

"Oh don't be silly, Piper!" Carolyn cooed. "I'm their grandmother, they don't have to say thank you to me!" I gritted my teeth and ran my hand through my hair again. "Did you get a new haircut?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered shortly. A week ago I had tired of my shoulder-length hair and gotten a rather daring pixie cut. I loved it and Mark said it was 'growing on him.' Ha, ha.

"I really liked the way your hair was before," Carolyn said sweetly. "I can give you the name of my stylist. She can fix even the worst of hair disasters." Before I could think of a response she was up off the couch and into the kitchen to unwrap cupcakes for my greedy little monsters.

In the rush to go shopping, get lunch, and get everyone down for a nap, I had neglected the breakfast dishes. I saw Carolyn eyeing them and inwardly cringed. "Piper!" she called.

"Yes?" I dragged my feet over to the kitchen, feeling like a child being called before the principal.

"You know that I raised Mark to be _very_ particular about cleanliness. I do hope that you don't let him come home to this . . . mess." She waved her hand around including both the dirty dishes and the toys that were lying scattered about the living room floor.

My tongue took over my common sense. "Well, dishes and picking up after the kids is _his_ job, Carolyn," I said with a straight face. "After a long day of watching the kids I am just too beat to pick up at night. Mark always draws me a hot bath and then cleans the whole house for me." Her jaw dropped. "You did raise him to be so thoughtful and considerate!" I patted her arm. "I only hope that I can be the same sort of mother." I quickly made my exit before she could think of a rejoinder.

When Mark and I had first met, we had thought it so wonderful that we both came from the same home town. I knew that Carolyn, being a widow with an only child, was not totally thrilled to be sharing Mark's affection with another woman, but I thought all that would quickly pass when she saw how happy we were together. Then, I thought that grandchildren would so fill her heart with joy that she would forgive me for stealing Mark. Now, I was just grateful that she would babysit for us once a week so that we could go out on a date night. Although sometimes I wondered if free babysitting was really all it was cracked up to be.

My parents were still busy raising my baby sister, Sarah, who was ten years younger than me. Occasionally they would babysit, and, with a little arm twisting, so would my sister. My other sister and brother had each moved out of town after college and were pursuing careers in different states. Basically, we saw just enough of my family to like them, and not enough for them to drive us crazy.

To give her credit, Carolyn adored her grandchildren. She also spoiled them mercilessly. She thought I was far too strict and did everything in her power to undermine me. She was deaf and impervious to any suggestion that she had overstayed her welcome, and the one time I did say, "I think it's time for Granny to go home!" she started to cry. Emotional blackmail was just one of the many weapons in her arsenal.

There would be no getting rid of her until Mark came home at six. Unless . . . but no. I had made it for years now without using the Voice on her. Oh, how satisfying it would be though! I could have her packed up and out the door in seconds. I savored the mental image before reluctantly discarding it. I would have to put up with being the third wheel in my own home for a couple of hours. My faithless children would act like she was the sun and moon and completely ignore me. And my skills as a housewife would be criticized at every turn. Joy. _Exactly_ how I wanted to spend my afternoon.

"Piper darling," Carolyn broke in on my reverie, "I noticed the 'For Sale' sign is down next door." Our neighbors had moved several months ago and Carolyn had been threatening to buy the house and move in, so as to be of greater help to me. I was threatening Mark that I would slit my wrists if she did. He thought I was being funny.

I tried to hide my triumphant grin. "Yes, a young woman purchased it and moved in just a couple of days ago."

"That's just too bad," Carolyn pouted, "I was thinking that if I lived closer I could help you more with the girls."

"I know," I smiled, "But Cecily is really very nice. I'm sure she'll make a lovely neighbor."

"Cecily? What kind of name is that?"

I shrugged, "It's her name. I like it. It's kind of old fashioned."

"Hmm." Apparently it was not on the approved list of names, rather like Piper. "What does she do?"

I stopped to think. I'd only spoken to the woman once when I went over to welcome her to the neighborhood, and offer, with complete insincerity, to help in any way I could. I was glad she knew how the game was played and she assured me that if she needed help she would call. Our social duties done, we had talked a little about jobs and families.

"Umm, I think she works the night shift at the hospital," I remembered.

"A single woman working the night shift!" Carolyn was shocked.

"Yup."

"That sounds rather dangerous. Perhaps she should change to the day shift."

I mentally rolled my eyes. "I'm sure she can take care of herself."

"Piper, I don't know how _you_ were raised, but in my day young ladies did _not_ go out all night alone!"

"I saw her carry her recliner into the house all by herself. I'm betting that she can handle going out alone at night. Besides," I added, " _someone_ has to work the night shift. People don't just get hurt in the daytime."

"Well, the world would be a better place if they did," Carolyn huffed and then turned her attention back to the girls. I wasn't sure if she meant that people _should_ get hurt during the day, or just that they _shouldn't_ at night, but I wasn't about to ask for clarification.

The afternoon dragged on. The girls were having a riot and were quickly reaching a sugar meltdown. Mark really hated to come home to wired, cranky, hyper children. If it was just me I would try to calm them down a bit, but since it was his mother, I hoped he would notice the difference in his children's behavior. I'm evil, I know. All those parenting books that I follow so faithfully say that the key to good parenting is consistency. Does consistently being _inconsistent_ count?

Of course, he was late and I was frazzled before he managed to shoo his mother out the door. Being her only son, he could say things like, "You need to go home now, Mom. I want to have dinner alone with my family," and she wouldn't get offended. I don't even want to imagine what would happen if I said that.

Dinner, as usual, was part circus juggling act trying to keep all the plates and cups on the table where they belonged, forks in hands, and food chewed only one bite at a time. Mark and I paper, rock, scissored for who had to bathe and put the kids to bed. He lost. There were quite a few dishes, but at least I could do them in silence, blessed silence.

Of course, no sooner was I alone then I started missing being with the girls and felt left out of all the splashing and giggling that was going on in the bathroom. I tried to hurry so that I could get in some snuggle time before they went to sleep.

As I finished up the dishes, I could hear Mark in the girls' room telling them a bedtime story. When he was a child, his father had read him a book about a gentleman rabbit named Uncle Wiggly. Megan and Cassidy loved to hear Uncle Wiggly stories but I was pretty sure that the stories Mark told had only the character's name in common with the book his father read him.

Mark asked them every night what story they wanted to hear, and they would get to make up a title. Tonight it was "Uncle Wiggly and the Steve Bong."

"Steve Gong?" Mark asked.

"No," Megan said, "Steve Bong."

"What's a Steve Bong?"

"It's a machine."

"A machine?"

"Yes. A machine that gives you candy whenever you want."

"Honey?" Mark yelled out to me. "Do you know what she's talking about?"

"No idea!" I shouted back. "Megan? Where did you hear about a 'steve bong'?"

"I made it up," Megan shouted back.

"She made it up!" I yelled back to Mark.

"I heard!" he yelled.

There's a lot of yelling that goes on in this house. Why walk across the room to talk to someone when you can yell? It's much more energy efficient.

He started his story. "Once upon a time, Uncle Wiggly woke up and was eating breakfast. There was a knock at his door. 'Come in,' said Uncle Wiggly and opened the door. It was his good friend Steve. He had a strange machine next to him. 'What's that?' asked Uncle Wiggly. 'It's a bong!' said Steve. 'It's so radical, man!'"

"Mark!" I yelled disapprovingly.

"It was her idea!" he yelled back and continued, the girls giggling at his pot-head voice. "Uncle Wiggly and Steve used the bong all day long. 'This is so cool,' said Uncle Wiggly, 'everything is so green! This is way better than drinking Jack Daniels all day long!'"

"Mark!" I yelled again, much sharper. The girls were in hysterical giggles. Fortunately they had no clue what he was talking about.

"We like this story, Mommy!" Megan yelled. "Daddy has a funny voice!"

"Then it was time for Steve to go home. 'Thank you for bringing over your bong, Steve,' said Uncle Wiggly. 'No problem, man,' said Steve, 'let's do it again tomorrow!' 'Righteous, man!' said Uncle Wiggly. The End. Now lie down and go to sleep."

"eed a ug!" yelled Cassidy.

I quickly gave the counters a lick and a promise and joined Mark to give hugs and kisses and snuggles. Their hair smelled fresh and clean and I wanted to hold them close and keep them this way forever.

We gently tucked them into bed and warned them of the consequences if they didn't lie right down and go to sleep. You would think that eventually a kid would be able to remember that they weren't allowed to get out of bed and run around the house. Nope. I could go in there, place them back in bed, walk out the door, turn around, and they would be walking right behind me.

No sooner had Mark and I flopped down on the couch (okay, started to make out on the couch) then the screaming started.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Megan sounded genuinely terrified. She's a wonderful actress. I should sell her to Hollywood. "I'm scared!"

"You've been in there less than two minutes!"

"It's yark!" Cassidy joined in.

"It's _supposed_ to be dark. Close your eyes and you won't notice."

"I'm scared Mommy!" Megan's voice raised in a petrified shriek. "There are monsters and ogres in my closet!"

I glared at Mark. "This is your fault. I told you not to let them watch Shrek."

He shrugged, "They wanted to. Megan, honey," he called, "There are no monsters or ogres in your closet."

"I saw them! I'm scared," Megan was screaming now in terror. I started to feel bad. Maybe she _was_ really scared. She was only four years old. She shouldn't be watching scary movies.

Cassidy started screaming too, "I scared! onsters and yogurt!"

Megan instantly stopped.

"No Cassidy," she said firmly. "Monsters and _Ogres_. Not yogurt. Ogres."

"Yogurt," Cassidy repeated.

"No," Megan said patiently, "Oooh-gres. Ooooh-gres. Not yogurt."

"Yogurt."

"Ogres."

"Ogres," Cassie finally got it right.

Megan tried to pick up the terrified act where she had left off. "We need the light on! We're scared."

I wasn't buying it and Mark was distracting me by nibbling on my neck. I giggled. "Go to sleep!" I called and then yelped as he scooped me off the couch and carried me back to our room. "I don't want to hear from you again!" I yelled over my shoulder and got my head whacked into the door frame by accident. "Ow."

"This is all your fault," I said again to Mark. "You never should have let them watch Shrek."

"Shhh," he said and flipped off the light.

# Chapter Five

Later that evening, I was standing out in the front yard waiting for Harvey to pee. Sometimes I just put him out the back door, but lately he had taken to staying out all night, and it took quite a yelling before I would give up and just use the Voice to command him back in. I never wanted to do it, always sure that _this_ time he would obey on his own. But when you're black and weigh twelve pounds it's real easy to hide in a dark backyard.

He loved chasing frogs, which was fine with me. What I _didn't_ appreciate was that, if left out at night, he wanted to come inside at 5:30 in the morning. He would sit at the sliding glass door and yip and howl until I gave up and let him in, thus training him that obnoxious behavior is rewarded.

So, until I came up with a better plan, I was walking him out the front, where I could keep an eye on him, and crating him at night. I felt a little guilty about locking him up all night, even though all the dog books say that dogs view their crate as their den. If that was true, the words "den" and "iron maiden" were synonymous in Harvey's mind. Tough luck for him. I had no desire to wake up in the morning and find a puddle of dog pee on the floor.

For some reason, it was always Mark who would step in it and then there would be trouble. I think Mark has a talent for stepping on disgusting things in the middle of the night. Otis could hack up multiple hairballs in the middle of the path to the bathroom and I wouldn't step on a one. But if Mark got up to go to the bathroom, there would be yelling, swearing, and talk of canvas bags, bricks, and lakes.

"Hi, Piper!"

I about jumped out of my skin, my heart leaping into my throat. Somehow I had failed to notice the approach of my new next-door neighbor. She was standing about six feet away, her welcoming smile quickly turning to an apologetic grimace.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you!" She was tall, about five foot eight or nine, very slender, with curves in all the right places, pale skin, and dark, almost blue black hair. In the light from the street lamp her face seemed to glow like moonlight.

My heart gradually returned to its proper place, "Wow. You really scared me!"

Harvey started to growl. "Harvey!" I jerked his leash. "Cut that out! I'm sorry; he's never done this before."

Cecily took a step back. "It's okay, I must have startled him too." She bent down and held her hand out. Harvey took a couple of stiff steps forward, every wiry hair standing straight out and his lips pulled back to show his teeth. I heard a growl begin in his throat so I jerked his leash again. What had gotten into the idiot?

"Be nice, Harvey!" I commanded with all the power I could put into the Voice. The last thing I needed was to be sued by my neighbor for a dog bite.

Cecily started a little at my loud voice but held her position until Harvey obediently sniffed her hand and then wagged his tail. She looked up at me with a grin, "Dogs don't usually like me!"

Harvey, having now decided that she was a friend, took that moment to jump up and lick her on the mouth.

"Oh!" She tried to jump back but wound up falling on her rear.

"I'm sorry!" I helped her up. "He's usually very friendly; he must be out of sorts this evening."

"Don't worry about it. He's adorable."

The quickest way into my friendship is to praise my animals or my children. Cecily was on the right path. "I saw you out here and thought I would come over and chat. I don't see many people in the neighborhood, working the night shift like I do."

"Yeah, I guess not. So, how is the moving in going?"

"Pretty good, I've got everything unpacked; now I just have to figure out where it all goes."

"Where did you move from?" I asked, curious.

Cecily laughed, "Actually, I was renting a couple streets over. I like the area, since it's close to the hospital, and when this place came on the market, it was perfect!"

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood. We'd love to have you over for dinner some night when you're free."

Cecily looked surprised. I guess her old neighbors hadn't been very friendly. "Sure," she said with a slow smile. "That would be great. I'll let you know how my schedule goes." Her eyes glittered with some emotion I couldn't place.

I felt a shiver go down my spine, "I'd better head back in before Mark sends out the bloodhounds."

She bent down again and ruffled Harvey's ears. "It was nice talking to you, Piper. See you around."

My feeling of unease disappeared. I must be hormonal. She was just a little lonely and reaching out for a friend. I smiled, "Have a good night! Talk to you later!" and dragged a reluctant Harvey back inside.

The next day we were pretty much right on schedule. The girls woke us up fighting over who got to wear a princess crown. Yes, there were two crowns that, to the _adult_ eye, were exactly alike, but they both wanted the same one.

Cassidy threw a fit about her clothing, wanting to wear the Cinderella shirt she'd hated the day before. Breakfast wasn't pancakes, they pointed out, and pancakes were their favorite. And then they were off like a shot to play while I tried to clean up the kitchen and the house.

Contrary to Carolyn's beliefs, I _do_ try to keep a neat house. I have a morbid fear of letting everything go and not realizing it. My mother installed this phobia in me at a young age. "Brush your hair and put on lipstick before you go out! You're too young to be letting yourself go!" she would say. As I got older she still insisted on the personal care, but also moved on to greater things, "Clean this bathroom, Piper! What if someone came in and saw it like this? What would they think of you?"

To this day, whenever my house is a wreck, I'm afraid that the Surprise Critic Squad is going to drop by, see my mess, and think horrible thoughts about me. Or, far more likely in my case, my own personal critic, my mother-in-law, will drop by for an unannounced visit and _say_ horrible things _to_ me. Oh wait, that already happened this week.

I was blasting some Ella Fitzgerald, singing at the top of my lungs, and vacuuming around the toys on the floor, when I noticed Megan standing in front of me with her mouth moving.

"What is it, baby?" I asked, turning off the music and the vacuum.

"Cassidy says it's too loud," she announced.

I frowned at Cassie, sitting peacefully on the couch. "It's _not_ too loud."

She looked up from her book. "Too youd," she agreed.

"Okay, it's too loud. Let me finish and then it will be quiet again."

"ead a ook?" Cassidy asked.

"Read a book to you?" I tried to translate.

"Yes!" Megan cheered, "We'd love for you to read us a book! Thanks, Mom!"

I laughed, "That gets me every time. Okay. One book, and then Mommy has to finish cleaning."

"Ganny says ouse dirty," Cassidy announced.

My eyes narrowed and a bit of steam escaped my ears. "Oh she does, does she? Humph."

"Granny brings us the bestest presents and snacks, doesn't she, Mom?" Megan said lovingly. How was I to argue with that? I'm not completely evil. I want my daughters to have a great relationship with their grandmother. I just wish it was a little easier for me.

"Yes, honey. Granny is wonderful. Here, let's pick a book." One book became two, and then three, when the phone rang. It was my mom. My first thought was that she was psychic and calling to make sure I finished my chores before I played. Childhood programming is a scary thing.

"Hi, Mom!" I answered the phone, "I'm just cleaning house here." I wanted to make sure that she knew I was a responsible adult.

"That's nice dear," she responded. "How are my little angels?" The children in question were fighting tug-of-war style over the library book we'd been reading. I tried to separate them quietly. "Is everything okay over there?" My mom sounded worried, "I hear screaming!"

"Yup," I panted, hiking Cassidy up under my arm and pointing with all the sternness I could manage for Megan to sit in the time-out chair. Cassidy flailed her arms, whacking the phone out of my hand and halfway across the room. I plopped her on the couch and mouthed "Time Out" before retrieving the phone.

". . . I'm just so excited! It's going to be lovely!" My mom was just finishing.

"What's going to be lovely?" I asked.

"Piper," my mother was exasperated. "Haven't you been listening?"

"I dropped the phone."

"Oh. Well. What was the last thing you heard?" she asked practically.

"You heard screaming."

"Oh. Right. Are you _sure_ everything is okay?"

"Yes, Mom," I sighed. "I was just administering the girls' daily beating." I glared at the two of them as Megan slowly put down the toy she had been preparing to throw at Cassidy's head.

"One of those days, huh?" my mom laughed. Since my youngest sister had only just turned sixteen, she still remembered what parenting small children was like.

I flopped on the couch next to Cassidy. "You could say that. What's up?"

"Now Piper, you have to treasure these years," my mother admonished. "Pretty soon, they will be all grown up and you will look back and miss these times."

"I'd love to be looking back," I muttered, ruffling Cassie's hair and planting a kiss on her forehead.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! What were you calling about?"

"Oh! What was I calling about? Oh, I remember. You keeping an eye on your sister."

"What?"

"Karen's having an art show."

I was still lost. Karen was my older sister, who lived in L.A. and was an artist. "You want me to watch her art show?" That still didn't make sense.

"No, silly. Sarah. Oh bother it all, Piper. I told it to you perfectly before, you just weren't listening."

I took a deep breath and pointed 'Down' to Megan who was trying to stand on her head in the time-out chair. Cassidy snuggled up close to me and smiled beatifically at her sister. "Start at the beginning again, Mom."

"Okay." She sighed. "Karen called last night."

"Really?" I interrupted. "How's she doing?"

"Piper! I'm trying to tell you. Quit interrupting or we'll never get through this. Now, where was I? Oh yes, Karen called; she's having an art show and apparently it's a pretty big deal and she would like your father and me to fly out to see it!"

"Oh." I didn't know what to say. Part of me was happy for my big sis, whom I love very much. Another part of me, the selfish part, okay, the biggest part of me, was jealous that, one: I couldn't go, and two: I would lose a babysitter and someone to vent to if Carolyn got too bad. "How long are you going for?"

My mom laughed excitedly, "That's the best part! I talked to your father and we're going to go for two weeks! Isn't it wonderful! I've never been to California!"

Two weeks! My heart sank but I tried to be cheerful and supportive. "Do you really think you should be leaving Sarah for that long?" I asked.

"Don't be silly, Piper! She'll be fine. Besides, you're going to check in on her every day to make sure she is."

Great. Sarah would love that. Not to mention that my supervision would most likely wind up being as effective as a camera in a car crash. I wouldn't be able to stop any disasters, but I could accurately relate what had happened to my mom when she got home.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my little sister. We all do, and that's perhaps the problem. We spoiled her rotten. When I was sixteen, she was six, and my older siblings and I adored her. We did her chores, cleaned up her messes and encouraged her in whatever she wanted to do. Small wonder she turned out lazy, irresponsible, and wild.

Of course I would never say these things to my mother. She firmly believed that she had raised Sarah _exactly_ the same way she raised Karen, Jacob, and me. She said we had all gone through some rebellious spots and that we needed to give Sarah a little more leeway. Ha. I had _never_ been that wild. Except for my freshman year of college, and my mom didn't know about that, so it didn't count.

"Piper? Are you still there?" came the voice from the phone. Ooops. I must have spent a little too long on memory lane.

"Yeah, I'm here. I was just thinking about Sarah."

"You worry too much, Piper! Sarah is _thrilled_ to stay home alone for so long and she has agreed to run any parties or get-togethers past you first."

Double great. I could see it already. Sarah was setting me up as her fall guy. 'But Piper said it was okay!'

"Besides," Mom continued, "there's more! Now don't tell Karen I told you this . . ." I had to snicker. My family is completely incapable of keeping a secret. We preface everything with 'don't tell anyone,' knowing full well that when _we_ hear those words we think it's okay to tell someone else as long as we preface it with 'don't tell anyone.'

"I had to read between the lines, but . . ." my mom paused for dramatic effect. "I think she has a boyfriend!" her voice went higher with excitement. She has been trying to marry Karen off since, well, since before I got married. Karen was still waiting for Mr. Right and my mom firmly believed that she was being too picky and should settle for Mr. Okay. Anything to get more grandchildren.

"Are you sure, Mom?" I asked. Karen was notoriously secretive about her dating and I had a hard time believing that she had hinted at a relationship.

"Positive!" she trilled. "She said she had someone special for us to meet! Oh Piper, it's just so exciting! What do you think about a pale green with pink sashes?"

"What?"

"Bridesmaid dresses of course!"

I snorted. "Ooookay, Mom. You enjoy your little warp jump to the planet of conclusions. Do _not_ drag me into it. If Karen wants to talk to me about it, _then_ I will start penciling dates on the calendar."

"Do you think it's too early to reserve the church?"

"Yes! Mom! Get a grip. Maybe she wants you to meet her new puppy!"

"You are such a spoilsport. Fine. I have to go. Talk to you later!"

"Can I get up now, Mom?" Megan asked. I held out my arms and she joined Cassidy and me on the couch. They both gave me big hugs and kisses and snuggled up on either side. I smiled. Maybe these _were_ the best years. I didn't even want to _think_ about either one of them getting married.

I sat and argued with myself for a moment. Of course I lost. I was fighting against heredity. I hit speed dial and waited for the phone to ring. Karen didn't answer so I left her a message. "Hey sis, Mom just called. Umm, sounds like a fun trip. Congrats on the big art show... give me a call." I'd have to warn her about Mom's wedding planning later.

Cassidy took that moment to yank Megan's hair and they both leaped off the couch, Megan chasing Cassie with murder in her eyes. By the time I finished the housework, which took twice as long as usual, since I had to stop every two minutes and break up a new fight, I was thinking fondly of empty nests.

Their behavior got progressively worse as the day went on. By lunch time I was almost screaming, and nap time was a total bust. They both refused to lie down and when I eventually let them up, I was a wreck. The hours seemed to drag by waiting for Mark to get home. When Cassidy managed to unscrew the top of her juice cup and dump it all over my newly mopped floor, I decided it was time to go play outside.

"Who wants to ride bikes in the driveway and wait for Daddy?" I took the shrieking and jumping up and down as affirmation and herded them out the front door.

We live in a rather quiet neighborhood so I felt pretty safe sitting on the ground and letting them ride circles around me on their trikes. Harvey was busy exploring the front bushes, trying to catch a lizard, and even Otis came out to lay down by the front door. There was enough cloud cover and it was late enough in the day that the temperature was pleasant instead of the typical blistering Florida heat. The lack of nap was making me drowsy and I lay back for a second on the sun warmed concrete.

That's when I heard the heavy 'whoomp' of a subwoofer and the screech of tires as a car came careening at high speed around the corner. Every mom knows that feeling of panic as you look around to make sure your kids are nowhere near the street. Megan was just pedaling around the top of the driveway near the garage, but Cassidy was headed straight for the road.

"Stop, Cassidy!" I yelled leaping to my feet and she looked over her shoulder and laughed, thinking that I was chasing her. She pedaled even faster in a straight collision course with the oncoming car, still looking over her shoulder at me. I caught a glimpse of the face behind the steering wheel. The car swerved even closer to the curb.

"Cassidy, _stop_!" I was commanding a human being for the first time in six years. She braked just as her front tire dipped into the gutter and the car sped by inches in front of her. The noise and wind scared her and she started to cry. I was already beside her and scooping her up in my arms before she opened her mouth. My heart was racing, my mouth was dry, and I felt like I could throw up.

"Shhh, it's okay, baby. Mommy's got you." She was feeding off my fear and becoming hysterical. "Calm down," I commanded without even realizing it. She instantly stilled and hid her face in my shoulder.

I was in shock, afraid to open my mouth again. I wished there was someone to command _me_ to be calm. Having your child almost killed before your eyes is bad enough. Recognizing the person who intentionally tried to do it . . . much worse.

# Chapter Six

I dragged a protesting Megan and a still whimpering Cassidy inside and fell in a heap in front of the door. Grabbing both of my girls tight, I rocked them and made 'shushing' noises. I was trying my hardest not to whimper along with them. Did I really see what I thought I saw? Maybe I was just going crazy. After all, it had been so long ago. What were the chances that I would use the Voice and then see the man from the alley again?

Unless he had been looking for me.

But seriously! What were the chances of that? It was crazy! Lots of people have tattoos. They have tattoos all over their bodies. I was sure that there were hundreds of people around with a spider tattooed on their neck. It was probably a very popular tattoo. Of course, I'd never _seen_ another person with that kind of tattoo, but that didn't mean they weren't out there. I was just moving in the wrong circles. Or the right circles, depending on how you looked at it.

Far more likely that my subconscious filled in the face, since it was connected in my mind with using my ability. That made way more sense. Boy was I being dramatic! The next thing you know I'd be checking for boogey-men under my bed.

I had been badly scared six years ago and of _course_ that face would stick in my subconscious. Here I was, badly scared again, and being forced to use my ability, so it was only natural that I would imagine the same face.

It was dusk, the car was moving fast, and there was no way I could have gotten a good look at the driver. I felt much better. Okay, not really. But I could pretend that I felt much better.

Megan started making faces at Cassidy to get her to laugh. "Look Cassie! I'm a robutt!" she squealed, walking around with her arms and legs straight out.

"Ro _bot_ ," I corrected distractedly.

"Ro _butt_ ," she said.

I giggled. "I. Am. A. Ro. Bot," I said in my best metal voice and pretended to chase them.

"No Mommy," Megan shook her head, "It's ro _butt_."

"Okay. Robutt."

"Be robutt! Be robutt!" Cassie chanted and took off, tears forgotten.

"Hang on a sec." I snagged both of them. "Let's talk for a moment here. Do you ever, _ever_ ride your bike into the street?"

"Nope," said Megan, "'cause a car will come along and squish you."

"That's ri—"

"-squish you like a pea. Squish you like a pancake. Squish you flat until you dead."

"Thank you, Megan, we get the picture."

"Squish you—"

"Thank you, Megan."

"Car scary," Cassie said.

"Yes, cars are scary if you run out in front of them. Never, ever, ride, or walk in the street without holding Mommy's hand."

"What about Daddy's hand?" Megan wanted to know.

"Or Daddy's hand."

"What about Granny's hand?"

"Or any adult's hand," I clarified.

"Is Aunt Sarah an adult?" Megan asked.

"Yeees," I said, not sure where this was going.

"You told Daddy she was a baby."

"Aunt Sarah is an adult." I would really have to watch what I said around the little pitchers.

"Is a monkey an adult?"

"No, a monkey is not an adult. Okay!" I clapped my hands, "Let's play the cleanup game until Daddy gets home!"

By the time Mark got home I had completely convinced myself that I had overreacted. I was able to greet him calmly at the door with a kiss and a hug.

"Daddy's home!" I called.

Megan and Cassidy came to the front door dressed to the nines. They were both wearing plastic high heel shoes, multiple bracelets, necklaces, and the two identical princess crowns on their heads.

"Hello princesses!" said Mark scooping up each one and kissing them. "Is this Princess Megan and Princess Cassidy?"

"No," said Megan regally, "I am Cinderella."

"And who are you?" Mark asked Cassidy.

"Seeping Booty," she said.

I choked on a laugh, "Who?"

"Seeping Booty," she said again.

"Are you a Mexican princess?" Mark asked with a straight face.

"Mark!" I smacked him.

He waggled his eyebrows at me, "You know, like Montezuma's Revenge and Seeping Booty."

"Mark!" I whacked him again.

"What?" he asked with mock hurt, "They don't know."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"How was your day, Daddy?" Megan asked.

"Good honey-bun; how was your day?"

"Cassidy was a bad girl."

"She was? Were you a bad girl today, Cassidy?"

"Yes," Cassidy said sadly, "Cars scary."

"Cassidy ran in the road. Cars can squish you," Megan said wisely.

"Cars swish you," Cassidy echoed. "I scared."

"Cassidy ran in the road?" Mark looked at me.

I laughed nervously. "She was _going_ to run in the road but she stopped when I yelled at her." I suddenly remembered how guilty I should be feeling about that. I had broken my promise to myself. Did it matter that I had done it to save my daughter? Did that make me any less a monster?

"Oh," said Mark, relieved, "I thought she ran out in front of a car or something."

"Ha ha!" my laugh sounded fake. "Nothing that serious."

Nothing like my stripping away another person's free will. Nothing like allowing my inner monster to emerge. Nothing like seeing the face I still saw in my nightmares behind the steering wheel of a car that was trying to run my child over. Oh no. Nothing serious at all.

I felt guilty all evening. You would think, after five years of marriage, that I would feel comfortable lying to him, especially about my ability, but I didn't. I felt awful. On top of that, I was scared. I wanted to pull all the curtains in the house shut. I felt like a fish in a tank with a spotlight pointed at me.

Outside the windows all was dark, but I imagined turning around and seeing a face pressed up against the glass. You can see why I don't watch horror movies. My imagination is _way_ too creative, all on its own, without adding fresh ideas of things to be scared of.

I was getting totally worked up again over nothing when Mark called me back to the girls' room. They had just gotten out of the tub. Cassidy was already in her pajamas and Mark was towel drying her hair. He had a pair of Megan's underwear on his head and both she and Cassie were hysterically giggling.

"What do you think?" he asked.

I propped up the door frame with my shoulder. "About what?"

"My hat."

"Is not hat, Megan's unnerwear!" Cassie giggled.

"It's a hat," Mark said. "I like this hat."

"Looks like a hat to me," I said. "You wear hats on your head."

Megan was giggling so hard her face was turning red. "You don't wear _underwear_ on your head!" she gasped.

"But you wear _hats_ on your head, and I'm wearing this on my head, so it must be a hat," Mark answered with perfect logic.

"Mommy, is that a hat?" Megan asked me.

I grinned, "What do you think?"

"I think it's my underwear."

"I think you're right." I wrinkled my nose at her. "I think Daddy's a little crazy."

"Daddy funny!" Cassie chortled.

I plucked the underwear off his head and tossed it to Megan. "Okay gigglers. It's almost bedtime."

"But, Mom!"

"No buts. One story and then it's lights out."

An hour later they were finally settling down enough that if a stranger walked in the house he wouldn't think that there were thirty toddlers having a rave in the back bedroom. I rubbed my eyes wearily. It had been a long day.

Mark walked up behind me and started giving me a massage. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired."

"You seem . . . I don't know, worried about something?"

"Worried?"

"Worried. What's up?"

Oh, the guilt! There was no way he would understand. "I'm fine," I said firmly.

"You don't seem fine. Come on, I know you, what's going on?"

He wasn't going to let it go. I was tired. The truth would hurt him and our marriage. I have all sorts of excuses. None of them are very good. It was like my ability, once allowed a little free reign, was now stronger than ever. It burst out of my lips before I could stop it.

"I'm fine Mark, just forget about it and let's watch some TV," I commanded.

He blinked. "Do you want to watch some TV?" he asked.

I felt my eyes welling up with tears. "Sure, honey," I answered. "That sounds great."

Man, did I feel like scum. The worst thing was that Mark had no clue what was going on. I had turned my husband into a zombie. Okay, a little dramatic, but taking away a person's free will seemed like a horrible invasion.

So, what do you do when you feel guilty and need a way out? You sell your soul to the Devil, of course. In my case, again, not the Devil himself, but one of his evil henchmen. I picked up the phone and called Carolyn.

"Hi, Mom!" I greeted her, hoping the use of a family title would surprise her into being nice to me.

"Who is this?" she asked.

Surprise her, confuse her, what's the difference?

"It's me, Piper."

"Oh." Flat voice, no emotion. This was going well.

"Soooo, how are you?" Showing an interest in another person's well-being makes them think you care.

"What do you want, Piper?"

"What?"

"What do you want?" she made her voice sound put-out and tired. "You only call me when you need something. God knows I am always here and willing to help you, and I've always tried to be your friend, for Mark's sake, but you keep pushing me out of your life." Now she sounded like a martyr. I was totally thrown for a loop. Maybe I _did_ only call her when I needed something. I'd have to think about it later, when I had time to pack an overnight bag for the guilt trip.

I decided to ignore her last comments. "Do you think that you could babysit for Mark and me tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night?" I heard rustling paper and assumed she was checking her calendar. Trust her to show up whenever it was convenient for her and want to spend time with the girls, but if it was convenient for me, forget it. "This is rather late notice, Piper," she said disapprovingly. "I already have plans."

I took a breath to answer and was cut off. "However, since you are _family_ ," the word came out painfully, "I will rearrange my life and interests to help you."

I made a face at the phone and rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Carolyn, could you be here at six?"

She sighed, "Yes, don't bother microwaving dinner for the girls; I will bring them a home cooked meal. It's always such a treat for them."

I seethed inwardly. I am not the greatest cook in the world, and perhaps we do eat more things from the microwave than the oven, but my family was well fed and obviously not starving to death. Outwardly I made another face and said sweetly, "How nice, thank you Carolyn. See you tomorrow!" and hung up.

It's worth it. I told myself. Babysitters are expensive. Putting up with a little verbal abuse is well worth a free babysitter. I closed my eyes and imagined calling Carolyn, commanding her to babysit at six o'clock and then hanging up the phone. Some people shouldn't have the benefit of free will. I scolded myself severely. I hadn't felt the urge to use the Voice on another person in _ages_ and here I was, thinking about using it for the _third time_ today!

Mark was thrilled that we were going to go out without the monkeys. I guess it had been a while. I really should do this more often.

* * *

The next night I dolled up and admired myself in the mirror. I decided that I cleaned up pretty good. Although, compared to my usual garb of jeans and a t-shirt, I supposed anything would look good.

Since Mark was there, Carolyn had to be on better behavior. "Why, don't you look nice, Piper!" she greeted me, sounding shocked.

"You look lovely too, Carolyn!" I answered with equal shock in my voice.

Mark beamed at us both, happy that the two most important women in his life were so nice to each other. Men. It must be nice to be oblivious.

The girls, as usual, went crazy with joy at the thought of spending the evening with Granny and she only managed to make us feel slightly guilty for mentioning that we might go to a movie after dinner.

"Try not to be too late," she murmured, looking frail and tired. In reality, she just hated to babysit after the girls had gone to bed. She loved spoiling them rotten and keeping them up late, but after they went to bed, she was bored. Mark was fooled though, and told her that we would hurry home after dinner. I glared at him, after all I had gone through to get her here I was planning on staying out all night.

Carolyn smiled a sweet, self-sacrificing smile, "Now, now, Mark. I don't mind staying up past my bedtime for you!" she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You go have a wonderful time; go see a movie or something and don't worry about me at all."

Kudos to her. Now, not only were we grateful to her for letting us go, but we also felt guilty, and would continue to do so for the rest of the evening, thus taking away a lot of the fun. Urrrgh. I was _not_ going to let her spoil our evening out. We would eat, drink, and be merry, and not spend a second's thought about Carolyn or our kids.

I do have to admit that leaving the girls with family is a lot less nerve-wracking than leaving them with a babysitter. Maybe it was all worth it.

Since this whole outing was to assuage my guilt about using the Voice on Mark, I let him pick the restaurant and the movie. Neither were ones that I would pick, but I took pleasure in doing something I didn't like for Mark. By the time the movie was over I was feeling very virtuous and self-sacrificing so I suggested walking next door to the coffee shop for a latte before going home.

"That movie was totally ridiculous!" I said, sitting down with my drink.

"It wasn't supposed to be true to life," Mark defended.

"Oh, come on!" I did my best evil villain voice, "'I'm the bad guy and I'm going to kill you! But first, let me tell you my entire evil plot, give away all my weaknesses, and then leave you here in this room that is slowly filling up with water to drown you. Oh drat! I don't have time to make sure you're dead thus allowing you to escape and save the day!'"

"It wasn't that bad," Mark laughed.

"No, but it was clo-" I trailed off.

"Honey? Are you okay? What's wrong?" my husband asked quietly, concerned by the look that had just crossed my face.

I was staring at a young Goth couple, engaged in a heavy lip and tongue lock, three tables over. The young man was dressed all in black, with short green spiked hair. His nose, eyebrows, lip, and ears were pierced. He looked like someone had mistaken him for a pincushion. His pale arms were covered with tattoos and his shirt was extremely creative in that its slogan was both profane _and_ obscene. His hand on top of the table had black painted fingernails while his other hand was under the table attempting to sneak up his date's skirt.

The girl was considerably younger than her date and also dressed in black: black knee-high boots, black fishnet stockings, black, almost non-existent skirt, and a black bustier. She had escaped the pincushion piercings and merely wore tiny skulls dangling from each ear. From what I could see as she came up for air, she was also wearing black lipstick.

It was my little sister.

# Chapter Seven

In retrospect, a crowded coffee shop is _probably_ not the best place for a family intervention. Okay, _definitely_ not the place. I should have remained calm, rational, and understanding. And, in my defense, as I crossed the room as quickly as possible, that was exactly what I intended to do.

"Hi Sarah, how are you doing?" was what I meant to say.

" _What do you think you are doing_?" was what I actually screamed. Maybe it wasn't a scream, but it was loud enough to turn every head in the place.

Mark appeared at my shoulder. "Honey," he said warningly. "Hi, Sarah." He assessed the situation and knew I would not be leaving this alone. "Mind if we sit down?" He pulled out a chair and forced me down into it, before pulling up one for himself.

"Piper. Mark." Sarah was clipping her words short.

"What do you think you are _doing_?" I hissed.

"You already said that," Sarah said snidely.

"And you haven't answered yet."

Mark gave an embarrassed grin to the young man who was looking like he wished he was at least a couple hundred miles away.

"Does Mom know you're here?" I asked.

"None of your business, Piper." Sarah was getting angry.

"It is _too_ my business. You think I'm going to sit back and let this _freak show_ feel you up in public?" I was already angry.

"What? So, like, it would be okay if we were in private?" she shot back, "And he's not a freak show! This is my boyfriend."

"Over my dead body you have a boyfriend."

"Maybe that can be arranged," she snarled. "What's your big problem? Mom knows I'm out and she's fine."

"She's fine! Does she know what you look like? Do _you_ know what you look like?"

"No. What do I look like, Piper?" Sarah rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"You look like a cheap whore hanging out with hedgehog Harry!"

The pincushion spoke, "Uh, my name's Michael."

"Okay, Metal Michael." I turned my ire on him, "How old are you? Do you know she's only sixteen?"

Sarah jumped to her feet. "Piper! This is totally whack! Go home. I don't want you here."

"And leave you here with the pedophile? I don't think so!"

People were starting to quietly get up from their tables and make their way to the door. We were making a huge scene, but I didn't know how to end it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the manager walking toward us with a frown on his face.

I was doing everything wrong. I was alienating my sister when I just wanted to protect her. I felt like I was watching a nuclear reactor getting ready to blow and was helpless to stop it. All I wanted to do was calm things down, and my Voice chimed in, happy to help.

"You," I commanded the manager, "go back behind the counter and stay there."

I turned to the freak while the manager obeyed. "You," I commanded again, "Get out of here now and stay away from my baby sister."

He stumbled to his feet and headed for the exit. I felt sick to my stomach with what I had done, but if it was worth breaking my promise to save my child's life, surely it was worth it to save my baby sister! I'm not sure what I was saving her from, but nothing about her date looked safe or appropriate to me.

Sarah's mouth was opening and closing soundlessly like a goldfish. "You," I commanded her, "sit down." She sat. "We are not done here."

"We are too done!" Sarah's eyes were filling with tears. "You think just because people look different from you that they're bad! You don't know me. You don't know my friends. All you ever do is judge me! You don't understand me and you don't even try to!"

"Look here, young lady," I said with teeth clinched shut. "I do understand you, and I know that you are on the path to trouble. Hanging out with that," I waved my hand at the door that was swinging shut behind the pincushion, "is a recipe for disaster. He's at least five years older than you! And I am not going to stand aside and watch you ruin your life!"

"No, you're just going to ruin it for me!" she was openly sobbing now.

Mark passed her a napkin across the table and she wiped angrily at her tears, smearing mascara down her cheeks. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she sniffed.

"Sarah," I started and Mark cut me off.

"Piper, I think that's enough. You're not Sarah's mother. Leave it alone for now."

We each sat in silence for the short ride to my parent's house. Sarah had her seatbelt unbuckled and was out of the car almost before it stopped. "Sarah . . ." I didn't know what to say to mend the rift between us.

"Let's just forget this ever happened," she said coldly and slammed the door shut behind her. I watched her march to the front door and slam that behind her as well. The lights were on in the house, so my parents were still up. She would have some explaining to do about her clothing at the very least.

"Are you okay, Piper?" Mark asked.

"Yeah," I said with a sigh. "Let's just talk about something else, okay?"

"Sure thing, cupcake." He squeezed my hand. "Thanks for going out with me tonight. It was fun."

I snorted. "Most of it, at least."

"Hey," he flashed a grin over at me, "Hanging out with you is always fun."

I was quiet for the rest of the ride home, replaying the confrontation in my mind. I wished I had the power to reverse time and do things over again. Thinking before acting has never been my strong point and I knew I had really blown it. It would take weeks, if not months, of concentrated effort to rebuild the relationship I had destroyed with a few hot words.

Perhaps Sarah would never forgive me. It's not like we had been close the past few years. Somehow I had gone from friendly big-sister, to nagging, disapproving, mother-figure. We butted heads like crazy and she thought I was out to get her, but I was really worried about her. She didn't seem to know that the kind of people she was hanging out with were trouble. And all I managed to do was drive her the other way.

When we got home the kids were thankfully asleep and I noticed various new toys lying around the house. I was in no mood to talk to Carolyn so I clipped on Harvey's lead and said that he needed to go for a walk before bedtime.

"Okay, hon. I'm going to talk with my mom for a bit," Mark said and gave me a quick kiss.

"Have fun! I'll be back in a bit." I edged towards the door.

"Here. Take your cell phone with you." Mark tossed it to me. "Take care of her, Harvey."

Harvey wagged his tail and woofed happily. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Carolyn wrinkle her nose in disgust. Oh well. All the more reason to get him out of the house.

We walked slowly around the block in the dark. Harvey stopped every five feet to smell something and had to mark every mailbox with his scent. Don't ask me how a dog that small can produce so much pee. Must be _his_ magical ability.

Thinking of abilities brought a fresh wave of shame coursing through my chest. I had been so confident in my ability to resist using the Voice. I had gone _years_ without even being tempted! What was happening to me? It was like a hole had been punched in the levy and now the whole thing was being washed away. I had to stop using the Voice on people! But I didn't know how to bottle it up again.

I was two houses away from home when Harvey started to growl. Before the sound even registered on my ears I was hit hard and knocked to the ground. From underneath the weight on top of me, I heard and felt two forceful thuds. Harvey had escaped my fall and was standing over my head, hair bristled, teeth showing, snarling and barking like a mad dog.

"Are you hit?" the body on top of me asked.

I tried to get up and was pushed flat. "What?" My brain was still several seconds behind the action. What had just happened?

"Are you hit?" the voice said again. Slowly I recognized my next door neighbor.

"Cecily?" I asked puzzled, my cheek pressed into the sidewalk.

"Are you hit?" she hissed again.

"What are you doing?" I struggled again. Man, she must really work out, I couldn't budge her. "What's going on?"

I felt her sigh. "I'm going to take that as a 'no.'" I felt her weight shift and could tell that she was looking around. "We've got to get out of the open. I'm going to chance that they've left now that I'm in the picture."

I must be in the twilight zone. I had no idea what she was talking about. "What are you doing?" I asked again.

"Shut up and listen," she snapped. "We're going to make a run for my front door. Stay low, keep your head down, and try to stay between me and the house."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but I need to get home."

She looked directly into my eyes. "You will do as I say, now."

"Uh—no. I won't. I'm going home and you'd better let me up or I'll scream."

She had a look like she wanted to knock her head into a wall, or maybe just my head. "Look Piper. Someone out there just tried to kill you. You're lucky they like modern weapons. Next time might be a face-to-face. If you want to risk taking that into your home with your husband, children, and mother-in-law, be my guest." She rolled off me, but I noticed she was still keeping low to the ground and in-between me and the street.

"Tried to _what_?"

I was close enough to hear her grind her teeth. "I don't have time for this. Grab Harvey, now."

I scooped him up afraid she was going to hurt him. The second I did we were both lifted in her arms and carried at a run to Cecily's house. I was dumped unceremoniously on the front foyer rug and she slammed the door shut behind us. ' _Curiouser and curiouser_ ,' one part of my brain was saying while the rest was screaming, ' _Run away, run away!_ '

"H-how did you do that?" I asked scrambling backwards until my bottom hit the wall. Then I pointed at her grey t-shirt. "You're bleeding!" This was getting to be too much for me. What in the world was going on?

She looked down at her shirt where two splotches of red were slowly spreading. "Oh crap."

"Oh _crap_?" I was approaching hysteria. "Tell me right now what is going on, Cecily!"

She was stripping off her shirt to reveal a grey sports bra and a finely muscled body. I'd seen enough violent movies to recognize the two bullet holes in her otherwise perfect skin.

"You were _shot_?" My voice was now at a pitch that only dogs and small children could hear.

Cecily twisted awkwardly in an attempt to get a look at her back. She poked one of the bullet holes with a finger and winced. "Crap. Crap. Crap. They're still in there. Piper," she looked up at me. "I'm going to need your help."

"Oooh n-no," I stuttered. "You need to go to the hospital." I already had my cell phone in my hand. "I'm calling 911."

She had crossed the foyer, taken the phone from me and retreated back to the other side before I could even blink. If I got any more scared I was going to pass out. Harvey, of course, having genius-level dog I.Q., was sitting by my side, panting happily and drooling on the floor. There is something to be said for large attack dogs. Namely the attack part. And the large part. A cuddly stuffed-animal dog is useless for personal protection.

I tried to tell her to give my phone back but all that came out was gasps and disjointed sounds.

Cecily rolled her eyes in exasperation, "If you are done panicking and hyperventilating, could you _please_ help me before I stain the carpet?"

How had she moved so fast? For that matter, how had she picked me up and carried me? I mean, really, it's not that I'm fat, or even overweight, but to carry me like I was nothing!

I still wanted answers, but the two holes in Cecily's torso were pumping out blood at an alarming rate. Everything could wait until she got some help.

"You really need to go to the ER," I said in my best reasoning-with-an-insane-person voice.

"Piper!" Cecily's pupils were looking huge and dark. "I don't have time to get to the ER. For your own safety, help me now!" she pleaded.

It was the quiver in her voice that got me. I couldn't just stand by and let her bleed to death. I grabbed up her discarded shirt and used it to put pressure on the holes. "What do you want me to do?"

She sank back on the floor, "There's a pair on needle-nose pliers in the kitchen drawer by the trash can," she said. "Go get them." She slid her hands under mine to continue the pressure.

I ran to the kitchen, found the pliers and raced back to the front door. "Now what?"

Cecily removed the shirt and wiped away blood. The bleeding was slowing down; I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"You're going to have to find the bullets and pull them out," she said calmly, as if we were discussing the weather.

" _What_?"

"Piper, focus. I need you to do this for me. Quickly."

"Okay," I muttered, "but don't sue me if you die."

She smiled eerily, "I don't think that will be a problem."

"I don't think that will be a problem," I mimicked snidely under my breath, deciding that getting mad was better than throwing up all over her.

I really don't want to think too closely about the next several minutes. I did what needed to be done. I didn't throw up. And Cecily lived. So we'll just mark it down in the success column. It was only after I dropped the second mangled piece of metal on the floor that I freaked out.

"I didn't sterilize the pliers! I should have had a first aid kit handy! Where's your hydrogen peroxide?"

"Piper, Piper. It's okay," Cecily laughed. "You'd better watch this. It might help the explanations later."

"I need to get you some gauze and—"

"Just watch." She wiped the rest of the blood off her skin. The two bullet holes were slowly closing up before my eyes. It looked like some weird time-lapse photography. Within thirty seconds there was a puffy pink scar, and then nothing. Aside from a few blood smears, her skin looked fresh and whole, as if nothing had happened.

My jaw dropped. "Wha . . . ?"

# Chapter Eight

"Hey! Good job, Piper!" Cecily remarked. "You didn't leave any pieces in there!"

"You sound surprised," I said flatly.

She grinned, "Well, I was assuming that this was your first time."

I glared at her. "It was."

She jumped lightly to her feet. "That's why I said you did a good job. Man, if you leave a piece in there, no matter how small, it's a pain in the butt to get out."

"I can imagine."

She looked at me and frowned. "You're taking this awfully well."

"You said, if I helped, you would explain what was going on."

Her mouth twitched humorously. "I don't think I said that. What I _believe_ I said was that if you helped me I wouldn't leave stains on the rug. Talk about hard to get out!"

I glared some more. "I need some explaining, and I need it now."

She tried to pat me on the shoulder but I jerked back out of reach.

"Let me go change into some fresh clothes," she looked me over, "get you a clean shirt, get a drink, and then we'll talk."

"Cecily," I put out a hand to stop her as she headed down the hallway. "What _are_ you?"

She looked back at me, "Your friend."

"No. Really. What are you?"

She bit her lip and looked at the ground for a moment as if coming to an important decision. Then she looked me straight in the eyes. "A vampire."

I laughed nervously, "Like 'I vhant to suck your blood'?" I used my very best Transylvania accent.

She cocked one eyebrow at me, "Actually, yes. You smell rather good right now, especially since I have lost a lot of blood; which is why I am going to go get cleaned up and get something to drink before we talk."

That shut me up but good. I went to the kitchen and focused on scrubbing all the blood off my fingers and out from beneath my nails. I was going over them for the third time when a clean t-shirt was waved in my face. I dried my hands off fiercely, snatched the shirt and stalked off to the hall bathroom to change.

When I came back, Cecily was curled up on a chair in the living room, sipping a glass of dark liquid. I blinked.

Okay. I didn't want to know.

I asked anyways, "Is that blood?"

She looked at me over the rim of her glass. "Yes."

"Do you kill people?"

"No."

Well, glad we got all of that out of the way, because things would just be too awkward otherwise.

I am not known for my ability to let things go. "Where did you get the blood from? Oh dear God! You work in the ER! Do you drain helpless patients?"

Cecily rolled her eyes. "No, silly. And I don't work in the ER."

"You don't?"

"I work in the morgue."

"Oh." That made sense. About the only thing in this crazy experience that _did_ make sense. Of course a vampire would work in the morgue. They probably felt right at home. I felt a giggle coming on. I tried to stuff it down.

"You still didn't answer where you get your blood from." I couldn't believe I was actually having this conversation. If I hadn't seen her bullet holes heal up by themselves there would be no way I would believe this.

"Blood banks," she said succinctly.

"Blood banks?"

"Blood banks. Are you going to repeat and question _everything_ I say or just the really mundane and unimportant things? Because, if you are, this is going to take all night and your husband is going to start wondering where you are."

"Mark!" I jumped to my feet.

"Relax. Your mother-in-law's car is still in the front drive. You have a little longer to hang out if you want some answers."

I sat slowly back down. I did want answers. I just didn't know where to start. Harvey jumped up in my lap scaring the living daylights out of me. I had totally forgotten about him. He gave my face a lick and then collapsed bonelessly into sleep.

I decided to start with why someone would want to kill me. I still wasn't sure about the vampire thing, but I could go with the flow on that one for a while.

"What was going on out there tonight?" I asked.

Cecily sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Whew. That's going to be a little complicated to explain. Not to mention hard to believe."

"Try me," I growled. Harvey opened one eye to peer at me before sinking down even further.

"Ookay. I don't know for certain, but it's pretty safe to assume that it was a Guardian hit."

"Guardian?"

"The muscle enforcers of the SS. You made a rather noticeable scene tonight in a very public place. By the way, really stupid. And since you're on parole until the hearings, it was within their rights to try and take you out."

"I'm on parole? SS? Scene? What are you talking about?" I had a sneaking feeling that I knew what she meant by "scene." There was only one that sprung instantly to mind.

"Like I said, this is going to be hard to assimilate at first. You've had your head buried in the norm for a long time. You're not going to be able to pretend any more. Not if you want to live."

My mind was whirling. "Why don't you start at the beginning? What do you think you know about me?"

Cecily took a slow sip of wine. Uh, blood. Yuck.

"I know a lot about you," she said. "I've been assigned to watch you for the last four years."

"Watch me! Why?"

"Look, just shut up for five minutes and I'll try to catch you up." We glared at each other for a second but I kept my mouth shut. "You are a Rhine Maiden," she said. "A Nixe, Siren, what have you."

"A what?" I'd been quiet for at least five seconds.

"If you would stop interrupting I could explain." She paused and waited for me to interject again. I made a motion of zipping my lips shut.

"You have the power of persuasion. When you speak to people they have to obey. Am I telling you anything you don't already know?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I call it the Voice," I told her.

She nodded. "There are many mythological tales about creatures like you, but as far as I can figure out, you trace your ancestry back on both sides to the Rhine Maidens."

I raised my hand, "Question."

"Yes?"

"Who were the Rhine Maidens?" It sounded like a _Jeopardy_ question. Perhaps if I could stay calm and clinical I wouldn't turn into a gibbering pile of blubber on the floor.

Cecily sat up straighter, like a student getting ready to recite some poetry. She cleared her throat, "The Rhine Maidens were a group of sirens who lived, obviously, in the Rhine. Forget everything Wagner said, he had it all wrong."

I must have looked confused, because she stopped and asked, "Wagner? The Ring Cycle?" I still looked confused. "Are you really this stupid?" she said in exasperation.

"No. Yes. Sometimes," I defended myself with eloquence. "Just go on. I don't know what Whosit said, so just tell me the real story."

"Okay, where was I? The Rhine Maidens were a species of siren," she stopped, "Do you know what a siren is?"

"Yes," I said proudly. "They were the mermaid-like creatures who sang from the rocks and sailors would be so overcome with their beautiful voices that they would throw themselves into the sea and drown or crash their ships on the rocks. Odysseus defeated them by stuffing his men's ears with wax."

Cecily looked marginally impressed. "Right. The Rhine Maidens were the same kind of creature. Some call them sirens, others call them Nix and Nixes. They have the power to change shape from mermaid or merman to human. Now, one of the most famous of the Rhine Maidens was a Nixe named Lorelei. She would sit on a rock by the Rhine and distract sailors with her voice so they would crash and drown."

"Nice girl."

"Nixes are not known for their human empathy."

"Great. And you're saying that _I_ am one of these things?"

"Not completely. As far as I can figure out, and believe me, it took a long time and lots of research to discover even this much, one of the Nix, the male sirens, had um," she paused and looked embarrassed, " _relations_ with a human female."

I rolled my eyes. "Sex. He had sex with a girl."

"This generation of humans is so crude," she muttered under her breath. "Fine. He had sex with a human and she had a child. Meanwhile, Lorelei had also seduced a human male and gave birth to a child. Not being the mothering type, she abandoned the baby, which was rescued and raised by a human couple. After tons of hours spent tracing genealogies, you can thank me later, I found that the great, great, great, etc. descendents of Lorelei and the male Nix married."

"So what does that have to do with me?"

"Quite a lot, since they are your parents."

"My parents?'

"Yes. I haven't done the math but you are mostly human with some Nixe blood. Basically, you are part Rhine Maiden. Somehow the power of persuasive voice was passed down to you." Cecily drew a breath. "As a quick aside, I do not, for the death of me, understand why you haven't researched any of this for yourself."

I looked down at my lap, "I guess I just thought I was a monster and if I ignored it maybe it would all go away." I thought of something, "Hey, if I get it from my parents, why don't any of my siblings have powers?"

"I don't know the answer to that. Your sisters and brother have been checked out by the Guardians and all cleared. You're it."

"Okay. So I know about me now. Why was someone trying to kill me?"

"Usually a Guardian hits is authorized when someone has been breaking the rules."

"The rules?"

"Yes. The Rules of Magic. It's the code of law that governs all supernatural creatures. If someone is using their powers openly, it risks exposure for the rest of us." She fixed me with a glower, "The coffee shop?" she prodded.

I flushed. It was not one of my finer moments.

"The Guardians hunt down rogue magic users. A death sentence must have been put on your head tonight. It doesn't help that you were already on parole."

"Parole?" I asked puzzled.

She frowned, "Your case notes say that you were abusing your powers and a Guardian confronted you and you somehow escaped. From that point on you quit using your Voice and thus disappeared."

I was offended by a number of thing. "First off," I snapped, "I was _not_ abusing anything! I never used my Voice at all! And secondly, that _Guardian_ was going to hurt my friend!" I quickly told Cecily the story of the night outside the club.

She nodded grimly, "That's not the story in your file, but it sounds like you embarrassed the vampire." She showed her teeth in a grin, "And we don't like being embarrassed. He reported you as a rogue and got a hit put on your head. Fortunately for you, some Guardians are much better at tracking people through magic than with human means. Since he didn't know your name he couldn't find you, and when you switched colleges the trail really went cold."

I looked skeptical, so she explained. "It's like . . . umm . . . animals. If a cow is running around talking, you notice it, it stands out. But if it stops talking, and hides in the middle of a whole _herd_ of cows, it's a lot harder to find. Even if you know _did_ know its name."

"A cow," I said unbelievingly.

"Humans. Cows. Trust me, it's a good analogy."

"But you said that _you_ have been watching me for years now?"

Her face took on a smug look, "Others of us have joined the 21st Century. I found you within weeks of being assigned."

"But you didn't kill me," I pointed out.

"Nope. You weren't acting like a rogue. I got permission to put you on parole and settled down to wait for you to slip up." She glared at me again, "Which you just did, royally." She sighed, "And I was really enjoying the down time."

"Sorry to cast a shadow on your little vacation here," I said sarcastically, "but what does this mean for now?"

"Basically you are going to have to come before the USB."

"USB?"

"United Supernatural Beings. It's kind of like the equivalent of the United Nations. They are the ones who put the hit on you, and they are the only ones that can remove it."

"But I haven't been using my Voice!" I protested. "I haven't used it at all!"

"Tell that to the Guardian who reported from Starbucks tonight."

"Oh." I felt a sinking sensation in my gut, "But that was a one-time thing! I promise it won't happen again. I just want to be normal!"

"Too late, slurpee." She flashed her teeth again. "You blew it tonight. The Guardians are after your blood, and now that I've told you about all of this I have to bring you in for a hearing. If you want to live, you'll come with me tomorrow night. If you run," her canines grew elongated, "I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

"Tomorrow?" I asked in a small voice.

She nodded. "You got lucky on a bunch of stuff. Parole is almost unheard of. I really didn't think they would authorize it when I requested, but they had some other, more important things to discuss that year. The USB only meets every four years. If this was an off year we'd just go see the local authorities, who would probably just kill you." She flashed a wicked grin at me, "It's much cleaner that way. No loose ends. But since this is a meeting year, you can appeal direct. Which means tomorrow night."

"Where?" I asked, trying to grasp the gravity of my situation.

"Orlando," she shrugged, "The witches wanted to go to Disney World. Go figure. So, you have a chance to get your case heard again and be assigned protected status."

I was thinking hard. "So I broke, 'parole' or what have you, just tonight?"

"Yes."

"So why did that... guy," I still couldn't believe he was a vampire, "try to run my little girl over yesterday?"

"What?" Cecily looked genuinely surprised.

"The Guardian I met in college, I swear I saw him behind the wheel of the car that almost hit my daughter." I was getting steamed again just thinking about it.

Cecily frowned, "He shouldn't be anywhere near you. You were _my_ assignment and he should know better than to poach on my turf." Her eyes glinted with anger. "You must have _really_ ticked him off and, since everyone is in town for the conference, he saw a chance to do something about it. But if nothing happened there's nothing I can really do about it. Especially now that you broke parole."

"He could have killed my daughter!"

"But he didn't. Even in the USB we don't punish people for things that might have happened," she made a wry face, "unless, of course, it might expose magic to the world. Then we whack 'em first and ask questions later." She laughed like that was funny. Freaky.

"Look, Piper, if it makes you feel better, I'll send the message to his Guardian team that you're my territory and going to petition the USB. They'll have to back off until after your hearing. If they don't respect that it becomes personal." She looked liked she relished the idea of a fight.

I was having a hard time taking this all in. I glanced at the wall clock. It was already 11:45, Mark would be getting worried. I stood up, dropping Harvey onto the ground where he stretched and yawned, "I really need to get home. I need a chance to think about all of this."

"Sure thing." Cecily stood up and stretched also. "Just be ready to go tomorrow night at dusk. Stay in your house tomorrow, or if you must go out, stay in a public place with lots of people. The Guardians won't kill you in the open, too much risk of exposure."

"I thought you were going to tell them to leave me alone?"

She nodded, "I will. It's just easier to play it safe. Once you're dead there's not a lot I can do other than file a complaint."

I rubbed my aching eyes. "Okay. Fun. Great."

Cecily was suddenly right in my face, "This is not a game, Piper. I like you, enough to stand up to a sanctioned hit," she grinned like it was a big game to her. "I want to see you make it. I'm going to do everything in my power to get you to a hearing, but you have to be smart. There are beings out there that will kill you without a second of remorse. Don't give them a chance."

I nodded, since that was all I felt like I had the energy to do, and headed for the door. Cecily made a low sound of aggravation in her throat. "Not the front door, slurpee. You really _are_ dumb." She opened the porch door. "Go through the backyard. It should be safe."

I was halfway across her back patio when I heard her whisper, "See you tomorrow night."

I slipped through the gate and onto my back porch and peered through the sliding glass door. Carolyn had already left. It was safe to go in.

Mark was sitting on the edge on the couch, both feet on the floor, bent forward in concentration. He was playing Xbox. His fingers moving quickly over the controller and his whole body shifted and jerked with the movement on the screen.

"Hi, babe," he said without looking over at me.

"Hey," I waved weakly.

"Good walk?" Something exploded on the screen with a crash. "Yes!" he pumped his hand in the air before quickly resuming the classic pose.

"Yup." I watched him for a moment, grateful that he was totally engrossed in his game. "I'm going to bed, hon."

He grunted in response.

"I said, I'm going to bed," I repeated louder.

"Okay. Let me . . ." he trailed off, deep in some complicated maneuver that required leaping in the air, assassinating another player with an energy sword before switching quickly to a rocket launcher and blasting some flying contraption. ". . . just finish this game," he completed his sentence several long seconds later.

I kissed the top of his head. "Take your time."

He reached up and patted my hand quickly.

"I love you," I said softly and started out of the room.

"Hey, Piper!" he called.

"Yeah?"

"Your sister called."

"Sarah?" I asked hopefully.

"No, Karen."

"Okay. I'll call her tomorrow." I turned to go.

"Piper?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." He still hadn't turned around to look at me, eyes glued on the screen.

I smiled. "I love you too, Mark. 'night."

I lay there in the dark and tossed and flopped around the bed. I still had so many questions. Cecily was right. I should have figured some of this out a long time ago. Before I dragged my husband and my children into it. Too late now for regrets. I only hoped I could keep them safe.

I tried my fall-back mode of disbelief. Vampires! Come on. Get real.

It didn't work. My gut accepted without a doubt that Cecily was telling the truth. The last conscious thought I had was to worry about what else might be out there, transported straight from a horror movie to the real world.

# Chapter Nine

The next morning I awoke as usual. The sun was barely up and the sounds of happy children playing were bashing about my sleeping brain like jackhammers on concrete. I rolled sleepily over in bed and tried to cover my ears with my pillow. I try this every morning and it has yet to work. Hope, as they say, springs eternal.

You know that feeling you get, when you can't remember something, but you're pretty sure it's something bad and it's hanging over your head just waiting to fall on you with all its awful remembrance? That's exactly where I was that morning. Something was wrong. I just couldn't place it. I swung my feet out of bed and saw my clothes from last night laying where I had tossed them before crawling into bed.

The memories struck. That was not my t-shirt.

"Crap," I muttered.

Mark reached out a long arm and snagged me back into bed. "What's up?" he mumbled into my hair.

"The girls," I sighed.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically as a loud crash and then screaming could be heard from their room. "I hadn't noticed."

"I got it. I got it." I pulled back out of his arms and threw on a bathrobe. "You owe me."

"Just five more minutes," he grinned and then ducked as I threw my pillow at him. He promptly pulled it over his head and flopped back down. I stuck my tongue out in his general direction and went to make sure I still had two living children.

Megan's bed is supported by wooden bars that slip into notches in the frame. When the bed is mistaken for a trampoline the bars are sometimes knocked out of place and the mattress sags to the ground. Usually, at this point, children are scolded and told not to jump on the bed. Given the severity of the lecture and the general mood of the child, it is at least five to ten minutes before the bed is once again mistaken for a trampoline, causing the whole vicious cycle to repeat.

I was not in the mood for it this morning. Cassidy had one leg stuck down between the top of the mattress and the frame, where their jumping had dislodged two of the support bars. You would think, from the screams emanating from her mouth, that she was in deadly danger of being sucked down in the Sarlacc monster and digested for the next thousand years. I extricated her as gently as I could and sat her and Megan on the bed.

"Are you supposed to jump on the bed?" This may sound like a rhetorical question, but when dealing with small children there is no such thing.

"No." They shook their heads sadly, apparently heartbroken at their own disobedience and resolute in their desire to do better in the future.

I felt a grin tug at the corner of my mouth. I squelched it and tried to look grim, "If you jump on the bed again you're going to be in trouble. Do you want to start this day by getting in trouble?" Unfulfilled threats are one of the cornerstones of parenting. How else will your child learn to disregard everything you say, if you do not teach them early on that your threats are empty?

"We promise never to do it again," Megan said seriously. Cassidy nodded. What she really meant was 'never again, until I completely forget this conversation took place and think that jumping on the bed looks fun.'

I kissed them each on the top of the head. "Be good for a little longer while Mommy gets a shower, ok?"

"Who's coming over today?" Megan asked. She considers the day a total bust if no one comes to visit.

"No one," I answered.

"But I want someone to come over!" she whined. "Can Granny come over to play?"

"You just saw Granny last night!" I exclaimed. "And the day before. I think that's enough Granny for one week."

"But Granny loves us!" Megan argued.

"Yes. And I love you too," I said sweetly.

"Granny loves us the mostest," she announced.

"Fine," I snipped, "but you're not seeing her today so you'll have to make do with the second mostest." I marched out of the room. Nothing like winning an argument with a four year-old to start your day off right.

Back in the "adult" side of the house, Mark was already in the shower. I picked up Cecily's t-shirt and sat down on the bed. Pretending like last night hadn't happened was an option, but probably not a wise one. I could still see the look in her eyes when she said she would hunt me down and kill me. She meant it. I think I could happily live the rest of my life without ever hearing those words again. The time for hiding was definitely over.

"The time for action is at hand!" I mouthed quietly and tried to strike a heroic pose in the mirror. It might have looked better if I hadn't still been wearing my bathrobe.

"Watcha doing, babe?" Mark asked behind me, still toweling off his hair.

I leapt several feet in the air in a most ungraceful way. "Good grief, you scared me," I scolded. He laughed and I threw a mock punch at his shoulder. "Ha, ha. Hey, anyways, do you mind if I go out tonight?"

"No. Go ahead. You have plans?" He turned to go back in the bathroom.

I looked down at the shirt in my hand, "Um, yeah. Cecily invited me to go out and show her around the town."

"Cecily?"

"Our next door neighbor."

"Oh," he looked surprised, "I didn't know you knew her."

"Really?" I put on my best innocent face, "I thought I told you. I've been talking to her on and off and she seems like a really cool person." You just have no idea _how_ cool, I thought.

"Okay." He shrugged. "Sounds fun. I'll get home around six and watch the kids and you go have a good time."

"Thanks, Mark." I had to stand on tiptoe and pull him down a bit to give him a kiss on the cheek. "You're the best."

"I know," he answered cheerfully and disappeared in the closet to finish getting dressed.

I spent my time in the shower thinking furiously. There was no way I was going unprepared into the meeting tonight. I had a couple of ideas, but I would need to do a little research on the internet to confirm.

I sat down at my laptop after breakfast and began to surf the web. I started with research. It stood to reason that if vampires were real, then their counterparts, werewolves, probably were as well. In all the cheesy movies vampires and werewolves went together like peanut butter and jelly.

Reading about supernatural creatures led to more and more pages of different creatures, more than I had ever dreamed possible. I read about banshees and ghouls, wraiths and nephilim. Most of these creatures seemed extremely far-fetched. Yet, I would have said the same about vampires if you'd asked me a week ago.

There were even more defensives against supernatural beings than there were beings, so I decided to go basic and keep my focus on the main two. Even I knew that silver and holy water were effective weapons. But how to use them?

I took a moment to pick out two of my silver necklaces that I didn't wear very often. I hated to destroy them, but if they protected my kids then it was worth it. Taking them into the kitchen I dulled and mangled my butcher knife, hacking the silver links into pieces and then carefully gathering the metal shreds into a Ziploc baggie.

Cecily had said to stay inside, but she had also said, that if I went out, to stay in public. My plan was going to require me to go out so I would just try to be as careful and aware as possible.

Of course, since I had somewhere I wanted to go, Megan and Cassidy took forever to finish breakfast. Cassidy liked to stuff her cheeks with food and then just sit there for minutes on end. I was feeling a tad bit frazzled by the time I got their hair brushed, shoes on, and in the car.

"Are we going to Granny's house?" Megan asked.

"Ganny's ouse! Ganny's ouse! Yay!" Cassidy cheered.

"No. We are not going to Granny's house. We're going shopping." I tried to make it sound like shopping was the equivalent of Disney World.

"We already went shopping," Megan said. She was getting too observant for her own good.

"Yes, but that was _grocery_ shopping. This is a different kind of shopping."

"What kind of shopping?"

"Big people shopping," was my mature answer. Hey, it's better than 'none of your business.' And I couldn't exactly tell her that we were heading to the nearest ammo store to see if they would load some shotgun shells for me.

"What kind of big people shopping?" Megan wanted to know.

"None of your business," I broke down. Drat. It just slipped out. I was hoping to have at least one conversation with my children in which I did not use a phrase that drove me crazy when I was a child and my mother used it on me. Next thing you know I'd be telling them that spanking them hurt me more than it hurt them and that children should be seen and not heard.

"Just shopping, honey," I clarified, sort of. "Don't worry about it. It will be quick." Famous last words. It wasn't quick. I had a hopeful idea that ammo loading would be a simple process that even an idiot like me could manage. Then I could just purchase whatever equipment I needed, take it home, and create silver shotgun shells in the privacy of my own home.

One look at the overwhelming array of paraphernalia convinced me otherwise. So did the price tags. I had to explain what I wanted to the clerk, persuade him that I was serious, and wait while he took my baggie of necklace chips into the back room. All the while trying to entertain two increasingly cranky children. Needless to say, an ammo store is not the most child friendly place in the world.

As he rang me out, the clerk kept looking at me like a crazy lady. He even made a few werewolf jokes. I really had no idea what I was doing, not really. My few minutes of research had informed me that silver was notoriously difficult to pour into a bullet mold and that filling a shotgun shell was much easier. Since both were out of my capabilities I went with the "easier" one.

It stood to reason that if werewolves and vampires were really troubled by silver, pumping one full of silver pellets from a shotgun blast might have a detrimental effect on their health. That is, assuming that since vampires were real, werewolves were too. After last night I was feeling a trifle open-minded.

Death threat firmly in the forefront of my brain, I was not even tempted to use the Voice. Instead I used sarcasm, criticism, and threats to get my way. I also used one of the best weapons in the parenting arsenal. I allowed my children to misbehave loudly. Nothing makes a store clerk quicker to help you than a screaming child whom they want to get out of the store. By the time we left the ammo store everyone there was looking harried. I wouldn't be surprised if, after today, they hung up a sign that said "No Children Allowed" on the front door.

Next stop was the local nursery. My Wikipedia search had produced a list of plants to use as window and door guards. Yeah. It sounds stupid and it probably was. But, who was I to argue with centuries of folklore?

I was looking for mistletoe to repel werewolves, since I had no idea what wolfsbane looked like. Maybe I should have Googled that. Can you tell I'm not much of a botanist? And of course, a little garlic for the vampires. As I understood it, the vampires, at least, could not enter without an invitation, but I wasn't going to take chances. Not where my family was concerned.

The guy at the nursery thought I was a little touched in the head, but he was very helpful. Turns out wolfsbane is a very pretty blue flower. I got enough to make a small grouping to pin over each door and window in the house. I also bought each of the girls a rose for their somewhat good behavior. Well, they didn't kill anyone or destroy anything. I figured that was worth rewarding.

We made one last stop at the Catholic church. I left the car running by the front door and ran up the steps to quickly look around. Sure enough, they had one of those little water pots with holy water by the entrance. Looking furtively about to make sure no one was watching, I scooped up some of the water in a clean sippy-cup and screwed the lid on tight. Now I was ready to battle the forces of darkness! After all, if I could battle the forces of the terrible twos and the fearsome fours, I could do anything.

The car ride home was obviously training ground for my superpower of patience.

"Mommy?" Megan asked.

"Yes?"

"Mommy?" she said again.

"I said yes, honey. What is it?"

"What's my flower called?"

"A rose, baby."

"Mommy?"

"Yes."

"Does it need water?"

"Yes, sweetie. It needs water. We can put it in a vase on the counter when we get home."

"Can I put the vase in my room?"

"No."

"I want to play with it though."

"Okay." I shrugged. "You can play with it. It will just die a little quicker."

There was a scream from the backseat. Cassidy was holding her rose in one hand and a fallen petal in the other.

"Boken!" she yelled.

"It's okay," I calmed her. "The petals are going to fall off."

"I don't want my rose to die!" wailed Megan.

"No die! No die!" Cassidy was trying to force the petal back on her flower.

I almost ran over a man in the crosswalk I was getting so distracted. Maybe buying the flowers was not such a good idea. I tried to concentrate on the road.

"All flowers die," I tried to reason with them. "Just enjoy them while you have them."

Megan was sobbing now. "Why do they have to die?"

"When you cut them off their stem they die, baby."

Cassidy was sobbing now as well.

"We should never have cut them off the stem!" Megan was getting hysterical. "Put them back! Put them back, Mommy!"

I ground my teeth. "Megan! Cassidy!" I said sharply keeping my eyes on the road. "Stop that crying this instant! I will take those flowers away from you and throw them away if you do not stop right now!"

Silence reigned in the back seat for about twenty seconds. Then it started again, "Mommy?"

I sighed. "Yes?"

"Can we put them in water?"

"Yes."

"Can you read to them?"

I almost said yes just to make everyone happy. "No. But _you_ can read to them."

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know how to read."

"Maybe you can just tell them a story and look at the pictures."

"Mommy?"

"Yes!" My patience was wearing very thin.

When your child is a little baby, you try and try to get them to say the magic word: Mommy. When they finally say it you are so excited and proud. Your baby knows your name! How special! How wonderful! Little do you know that the word will be used a hundred times a day, over and over and over again, until you think you will scream if anyone says 'Mommy' ever again.

"What kind of stories do flowers like?" Megan wanted to know.

"I don't know, Megan," I answered. "I'm sure they like everything that you like. Now, who wants to watch a movie in the car?"

"Yay! Oo-ie!" Cassidy yelled and, once more, I escaped interacting with my children by distracting them with brain rotting mush. Modern technology and convenience win over home-town values yet again.

With the back seat occupied watching Wilbur and Charlotte, I was free to spend some time thinking. I was operating in "Mom Mode." Think about what needs to be done, make a plan, follow the plan, get it done. If you look at it that way, I was doing great. I had finished all my shopping and I was on the way to making my house safe. Or safer. Maybe it was stupid. No. Stick to the plan. Wikipedia says that certain herbs repel supernatural creatures, and when has Wikipedia ever been wrong? It couldn't hurt. The worst that would happen is that Mark would notice a smell of garlic coming from every room. The best is that it might actually do some good.

Next on the agenda was a nap. If I was going to be up late tonight dealing with . . . nope, not going to think about that yet. Naps. Naps are good. In my younger, wilder days I could stay up 'till three or four in the morning and be fine the next day. Not so anymore. Old age was catching up with me. If I didn't get at least eight hours of sleep a night I was a cranky mess the next day.

Then I would have to think about what to wear. The problem every woman faces. Do I go with the high heels that make my legs look fantastic but are a pain to walk in? Or do I wear the flats? How low a neckline will I actually feel modest wearing in public? For some reason, an outfit that looks killer in the bathroom mirror suddenly feels skanky when other people are around. If I had to face a magical version of the UN I wanted to look my best. Nothing gives a girl confidence like knowing she looks good.

I got everyone home, fed, and down for naps and still hadn't made up my mind on the wardrobe question. I was going through outfits in my mind while I quickly put together little clumps of wolfsbane and garlic. Martha Stewart I am not. The internet didn't say anything about how much of each herb was required, so I was going small to avoid husband detection. I sprinkled each one with holy water and then dragged a chair around the house to stand on so I could reach above each door and window. From my eye level, at least, they were inconspicuous. I doubted Mark would notice. After all, this was the man who failed to notice new window curtains until a week after I installed them.

That done, I tried to wipe my mind of all worries so that I could take a nap. No sense in tossing and turning for an hour worrying about things that were out of my control. I remembered to turn the phone ringer off and made sure the "Do Not Ring Doorbell" sign was clearly visible on the door. I managed to focus my brain on everyday things I needed to get done and went quickly to sleep trying to calculate how many loads of laundry I actually did every week. The planets must have been in alignment, because the girls and I got to sleep for two hours.

I awoke with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was the feeling you get as a child when you are walking up on stage for your part of the piano recital. For a moment I considered hiding under the covers for the rest of the afternoon and having Mark tell Cecily I was sick.

I glanced up at the barely visible bunch of herbs I had tacked over the bedroom window. Even if they were completely effective, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life hiding out in my home. And chances were they didn't work at all. Maybe they just made supernatural creatures very angry. Rather like shooting a BB gun at a grizzly. But then, if some creature was intent on breaking into your home, it probably didn't make too big a difference if they were really angry or just sort of angry.

The rest of the afternoon dragged by. I made sure the house was neat, the girls were bathed, and supper was almost on the table before Mark got home. Unlike some men, he was pretty good at watching the girls and putting them to bed. I just figured that, if I wanted him to do it very often, I should make it as easy as possible for him.

I still wasn't sure what to wear. I wanted to look nice, but not overdressed. Stylish yet comfortable. Orlando was a good forty-five minutes away, so I also didn't want something that would wrinkle horribly in the car. I tried on about five different outfits before flopping back on the bed in my bra and underwear. This was ridiculous. Not only was I going to meet creatures that shouldn't exist, I also couldn't find anything to wear!

Cassidy came wandering into my room and looked over the pile of clothes on the floor. She has always been very interested in fashion. Scarily so for a two year-old.

"What doing?" she asked.

"Trying to find something to wear," I groaned.

"Wear this," she said and pointed to a pair of black dress slacks.

I sat up. They were comfortable, stylish, and dressy. Maybe I should go with them. Now I just needed to find a good blouse to match.

"Okay," I smiled and held up a shirt. "What about this shirt?" I asked, half joking.

"No!" Cassidy looked shocked. "No. No. No. Ugly shirt."

"What!" I looked at the shirt again. "I like this shirt. I'm going to wear this one." I slipped into the pants.

"No!" Cassidy put her hand firmly on the shirt. "No, Mommy. No dis shirt." She pointed to another blouse on the bed. "Dis one. Dis one pitty."

I looked at it. I couldn't tell why one was ugly and one pretty. I kind of liked the first one better. "I like this one," I said, pointing at it.

Cassidy folded her arms over her chest and scowled at me. "No," she said.

I sighed and pointed at the second shirt. "This one?"

Her face broke into a huge beaming smile. "Yes!" she clapped her hands. "Pitty shirt. Booful Mommy."

Well, there you have it. If I wore the shirt I would be beautiful. Can't argue with that logic. I gave in to the tyranny and finished getting dressed. I decided to go with flats since there was a good chance my knees would be shaking too hard to stand upright in heels. At this point I was feeling rebellious and angry so I put on silver earrings, a silver necklace, a couple of silver rings, a silver bracelet, and a silver anklet. That way if something ate me I would give it indigestion.

I went to make sure the girls hadn't re-wrecked the house while I hadn't been paying attention. They were both sitting on the couch reading library books quietly. I felt a catch in my throat as I looked at them. I loved them so very much. I couldn't stand it if something happened to them. Hopefully tonight would clear everything up and we could go back to being a normal family. I sat down between them and gave them both a huge hug and kiss.

"I love you guys," I sniffed.

"Mommy?" Megan asked.

"Yes, honey?"

"I have a secret to tell you," she said. I smiled and leaned over, expecting to be told that she loved me too. "Cassie has poopy pants," she whispered in my ear.

I sat up straight. "Cassie, do you have poopy pants?"

"Yes," Cassie smiled at me.

I heard Mark's car pull up in the driveway and I debated leaving the diaper changing to him. No, I sighed, that wouldn't be very nice. I scooped her up and carried her back to the changing table. Horror of horrors, there were only three diapers left, and no spare box in the closet. My mind must have been in la-la land. I couldn't believe I'd let it get that low. I'd have to stop and get some with Cecily.

That should be fun.

"Piper?" I heard Mark calling from the front hall. "Cecily's here!"

I washed my hands quickly and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Here goes nothing, I thought and marched out to meet my fate.

# Chapter Ten

We escaped the house after I gave Megan and Cassidy numerous kisses, hugs, and promises to come in and check on them when I got home. Mark told me to have fun and stay out as late as I wanted and I gave him a sick smile in return. I didn't want to stay out at all. I didn't even want to go.

Cecily was looking sweet and innocent in a printed flower skirt; solid-color, square-necked, blouse; and strappy heels. She could have been a soccer mom on her way to church. She didn't look at all like a bloodsucking monster from a horror story. She gave me a wink and an evil grin when she noticed my jewelry, but it didn't make her fall down frothing at the mouth so perhaps silver was not as deadly as the folk tales make it out to be.

Bummer.

I hoped it was at least mildly insulting. I wasn't feeling very friendly at the moment.

We took her car, of course. A cute little Honda Civic, dark red. It reminded me of dried blood, which just goes to show how macabre my thoughts were getting.

I had every intention of keeping loftily quiet and making her speak first, but I gave up after about two minutes. I never was very good at awkward silences. Besides, I had an important question to get out of the way before I forgot.

"Do you mind if we make a quick stop at Walmart?" I asked.

"Walmart?"

"Yeah, I'm out of diapers."

"There is an SS hit on your head. Attempts have already been made on your life, and you want to stop, at night, and walk through a dark parking lot to go to _Walmart_?" she asked incredulously.

"You could drop me off at the door," I suggested.

"You want to go into Walmart alone. At night. With a death hit on your head." She sounded like she was getting ready to call for the men in white coats to take me away to a nice padded cell.

"Hmm," I said sarcastically, pretending to think, "Possible death or facing poopy diapers tomorrow with no clean ones handy. I think I'll chance the death."

"Poopy?"

I glared. "Yes, my vocabulary has shrunk to that of a four year-old. I also say 'doggie,' 'horsie,' and 'tinkle.'"

"Tinkle?" She looked genuinely curious.

"Bodily functions," I sighed.

"Wouldn't it be better to just call things what they actually are?"

I rolled my eyes. Parenting advice from a vampire. "There is a whole school of thought that would agree with that."

"But you do not."

"Just think about it. Do you want to be in public with your little angel and have her yell loudly, 'Mommy, Mommy! I need to go have a bowel movement'?"

Cecily smirked, "I can see how that might be embarrassing." She looked puzzled a second later, "How is 'Mommy, Mommy, I need to go poopy' any better?"

I snorted. "It's not. The hope is that by using baby talk it will sound cute and not disgusting."

"Does it work?"

"No," I said shortly and tried to get the conversation back on track. "What's the SS?"

"Huh?"

"The SS. You said that the SS has a hit on me. I thought it was called the USB, Universal Supreme Beings or something."

"United _Supernatural_ Beings, yes," she corrected me. "The SS is the Sentinel Synod. They are a partially elected group under the USB that takes care of security issues. The USB has no real power. They talk a lot and come up with ideas, but only member species elected to the Sentinel Synod have the authority to do something about the ideas."

"Sentinel Synod," I repeated with a laugh. "Say that six times fast."

"Why?" Cecily asked.

"Why what?"

"Why say it six times fast?"'

"Because it's a tongue – oh never mind. You're no fun." I sighed and looked out the window. I hated riding in the car. Although we lived less than an hour from Orlando we seldom made the drive over. Part of my hatred might come from having to travel with two small children. A good formula for parents of children under the age of six is to take the combined age of your children and multiply it by the hour length of the trip. That's how long the trip will _feel_ like. Using that math, a trip to Orlando for me would feel like it took six hours. Drive there and back and you would feel like you had been in the car all day long.

"So can we?" I asked again.

"Can we what?" she repeated obtusely.

"Stop at Walmart."

"Fine, slurpee," she snapped. "But if you get whacked, I'm going to be ticked off that I wasted the last four years."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, in that case I'll be _extra_ careful." I muttered some insults under my breath and had to grab onto the hand bar above the window as she jerked the car around a corner.

"What's with the 'slurpee' comments?" I wanted to know.

Her teeth flashed white in a grin, " _You_ figure it out. It's an insult."

I didn't have to think very hard. I crossed my arms over my chest and thought angry thoughts. There was no way in the world I was showing fear to this creature. I thought of an insult of my own and decided to save it for a more offensive moment. I wouldn't want to appear petty and childish.

We made it safely in and out of Walmart. Cecily looked disappointed. I think she was looking forward to kicking some butt. Maybe she'd get the chance later if I was extremely unlucky. I for one could stand the lack of excitement.

We pulled out of the parking lot in silence and I frowned as she turned the wrong way.

"Where are you going?" I asked. "The interstate's that way."

She smiled again, "We're not taking the interstate."

"We're not?" I was puzzled.

"We're taking a Zipline. The USB does not believe that getting there is half the fun. Usually we travel by conventional means, but for USB conferences they spring for a little more magic. We'll be at the Convention Center in ten minutes."

I sat up straighter. Cool. I was going to get to see some real magic in action! Not that bullet wounds healing in seconds wasn't magic, it was just in the past and I was having a hard time convincing my brain that it had actually happened.

We pulled into a deserted gas station. Weeds were growing up through the cracks in the cement and the plastic bags that had once wrapped the nozzle of each pump were mostly torn away. There was a small garage, spray-painted in graffiti and sporting several broken window panes. The street lamp supposedly lighting the station was flickering in and out, casting long shadows that seemed to move by themselves.

The place was creepy. I fought the urge to jump out of the car and run. Instead I hunkered down and tried to make myself as small as possible.

"You can feel it?" Cecily asked.

"Yees," I said slowly, getting suspicious. "Am I supposed to feel like I should run away?"

She grinned, for a vampire she sure was cheerful. Then again, I had never spent much time chatting with real vampires so maybe they were all this happy about scaring humans.

"That's the 'KeepOut' spell. It wouldn't do for just anyone off the street to make the trip to Orlando in a blink of an eye."

She drove around to the back of the garage where the large door was pulled up into the ceiling. The inside of the place looked worse than the outside. I could easily envision a whole slew of horror movies taking place in there. I started to sweat. When a black robed figure appeared out of nowhere outside Cecily's window, I may have even let out a little scream.

Cecily rolled down her window and flashed some sort of laminated badge. The figure nodded and waved us on. She drove slowly into the garage, which looked very much like a huge monster swallowing us alive. I must have blinked, because we were suddenly turned around in the garage and driving back out the door. The feeling of terror was slowly subsiding to be replaced with awe as I realized that we were not in Melbourne anymore. The streets around us had completely changed. Since we had been headed for Orlando, I would make a bet that we had arrived.

I leaned back in my seat and tried to look nonchalant. "Who was the guy in black?"

Cecily looked grim. "One of the witches. Not someone you want to meet. Unfortunately we are dependent upon them for Ziplines. They are not pleasant people." She said this like she thought I wanted to run back there and exchange email addresses with the guy. Fat chance. He scared the living daylights out of me.

"What would he have done if we were just normal people?" I asked, curious. Somewhere, someone must have been stupid enough to ignore all the psychological warnings and gotten too close. It was human nature after all.

Cecily looked troubled, "There have been instances," she confirmed. "The witches have it written in their contract that such trespassers become their property. What happens then is only known to them."

I suppressed a shudder.

We were now driving down International Drive. The city was lit up almost as bright as day and tourists were everywhere. Live in Florida long enough and you can spot a tourist a mile away. If the camera on a neck strap doesn't give it away, the pasty white or lobster red legs are a sure sign. Also, anyone wearing shorts or a swim suit in the cold days of winter.

For a Native Floridian, winter is any time that the temperature drops into the sixties or below. Shiver. Northerners, a.k.a. anyone from north of the Florida/Georgia border, might think the sixties are a warm spring day, but down here our blood has thinned out to the consistency of water and freezes at fifty degrees.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"The Orange County Convention Center," Cecily answered.

"Wow," was all I could think of to say. The Convention Center is huge. It's for ginormous conventions, hosting thousands and thousands of people. I had kind of been picturing a smallish group of supernatural people.

"How do you avoid attracting the wrong kind of notice?" I wanted to know.

"The USB calls itself 'SuperCon,' a role playing convention that is members only. We also have fantastic security," her teeth flashed.

I grimaced; I could imagine the security.

We made it past another security check point in the parking lot and then started the hike into the Convention Center. I noticed a variety of bumper stickers. Normal ones like "My Body, My Choice," and "Spay and Neuter Your Pet," lots of "Pagan and Proud," a couple Darwin fishes, two "Don't mess in the affairs of Dragons, for you are tasty and go well with ketchup," and even a "Carpe Nocturne." Hundreds of people were exiting these cars and streaming towards the building.

"Cecily," I hissed.

"Yeah?"

"They all look human." I was craning my neck around trying to spot supernatural looking creatures.

Cecily gave me an exasperated look, "Don't you pay attention? That's the _point_. Everyone is supposed to pass as human. If you can't pass, you can't be part of the USB."

I stumbled over my feet as an implication hit me, "Do you mean there are things out there that _can't_ pass as human?"

She nodded.

"The Loch Ness Monster?"

She shrugged, "I don't know about that one. She's probably just an old dinosaur. More like Wendingos, Thunderbirds, Chupacabras, Lamias, things like that."

I wanted to ask what a Chupacabra was but we were entering the building and there was more security at the door. The guards were working in pairs. One of each pair stood idly by, watching the people entering. Since all the guards' faces had the same bored look I took it to mean that they were really watching everyone closely. The second of each pair was holding a wooden stick in their hand, about the size of a drumstick (music not chicken) and waving it over each person's body as they entered. All of the guards were wearing black cargo pants, boots, and black shirts that read "SuperCon Security" across the front and back.

"Try to be quiet," Cecily mouthed at me as we approached.

I narrowed my eyes at her but remained silent. A little guy with the stick – make that wand – waved it over her body and then motioned her through the door. I stepped up and tried to look like I belonged. The wand started to jerk up and down in the guy's hand. Four of the bored looking security guards were on me in a flash. All of them had their teeth out and looked like they would love to take a bite out of my skin. I don't want to know what would have happened if Cecily hadn't walked back through the door with a surprised look on her face.

"She's with me," she announced, a little late to my way of thinking.

The little guy with the wand shook his head. "She's not a member."

"Cecily?" I asked nervously, my feet were barely brushing the floor. One of the guards was holding my arm in a bruising grip.

"Hush, Piper. I'll take care of this." She turned on the guards with a snarl, "Release her, this instant."

Now it was the guards turn to shake their heads. "You know we can't do that. She's not a member. She can't enter."

Cecily flashed a badge at the guy with the wand. By this time a huge crowd had gathered 'round to gawk. I wanted to sink into the floor. "It is my job to bring her before the SS," she growled. "Put her down and let us through. She _does_ have magic."

I could tell just by looking at the little guy that he was not going to let us through. He looked like a dweeb. A homely, nerdy dweeb. A homely, nerdy dweeb, who had been given a bunch of power. There was no way he going to back down. I sighed and decided to use the Voice. It _was_ what had forced me into this situation in the first place. The very least it could do was get me out. And maybe demonstrating my "magic" would prove I could enter.

"Put me down now and let us enter," I commanded.

Two of the guards dropped me like a hot potato. The other two moved slower but still took a step back in surprise.

The power freak nodded his head and said, "You can enter."

I snickered.

Cecily looked like she wanted to smack me. "I had it under control," she muttered in my direction. "See?" she spoke to the guards. "The witch's wand must be defective. She has magic, as I said."

I snickered some more.

The guards nearest me looked thoughtful.

"It appears that you may pass, slurpee," said one. "Although such a juicy morsel as yourself should be careful here. There are things that might eat you." He flashed long white canines at me in a lascivious leer.

I marched past with my nose in the air. Cecily grabbed my elbow and hustled me through the door.

"Not a good idea, slurpee." She was definitely annoyed. "That witch will not forgive you for humiliating him in public."

I snickered again. I couldn't help it.

"What are you laughing at?" she demanded.

I broke into a giggle, "You said 'witch's wand.'"

She looked lost, "Yes?"

I shrugged helplessly, "I don't know, it just struck me as really funny. Witch's wand. That guy looked like he lived in his parents' basement and could recite every line from _The Lord of the Rings_."

"Regardless," Cecily said firmly, "Things are not as they appear in your world. Many of the witches have . . ." she trailed off and paused, searching for a word, ". . . _extremist_ views on other supernatural beings, not to mention disdain for humans." She looked me over carefully. "Perhaps you are more than you seem as well. The wand recognizing you as human could be a very good thing," she paused again, then said enigmatically, "or a very bad thing."

"What?" I was annoyed. "Don't go all Obi-Wan Kenobi on me! What are you talking about? Of course I'm human, aren't you human too?"

Cecily shook her head. "No. I _was_ human. I am no longer. We will talk later. First we must sign in." She waved her hand toward some long tables set up near the door.

It looked at first glance like every other conference I had ever attended. White signs on tall poles stood above tables filled with papers, folders, name tags, and other conference paraphernalia. It took me a second to realize that instead of the traditional "A-C," "D-F," etc. written on the signs, there were far more interesting classifications.

I read each sign and tried to keep my eyes from popping out of my head. Two I had obviously expected: "Vampires" and "Werewolves." The rest were a little much to take in. There were several signs that said: "Shapechangers" with strange words after like "Selkies," "Naga," and ones I kind of understood like "Naiads and Dryads." Two read "Fae: Seelie," and "Fae: Unseelie," and the one that said "Demons" made me a little uncomfortable. I had to ask about one of the signs.

"Cecily," I whispered. "What's The WAND?"

"The witches and necromancers deputation," she whispered calmly, quickly signing in at the vampire table and picking up her stack of material. I sincerely hoped they included a map, because the sheer size of the concourse was overwhelming, and we hadn't gotten much past the entrance.

I stopped in my tracks and she ran into me from behind. "Did you say _necromancers_?" I tried not to squeal.

"Yes," she snipped and grabbed my arm to pull me towards a small table at the end of the row. The sign above read "Applicants." "This is where you sign in."

"What am I applying for?"

"Membership in the USB."

"Oh." I looked at her. "Do I _want_ to be a member of the USB?"

"Do you want to live?"

"Yes." I didn't have to think about that.

"Then you want to be a member. It's the only way."

"I guess I'll have to take your word for it," I muttered and reached over to grab a pen to sign.

There was a line for my name, the country of my birth, my age, and then species. I had to smile. I've never seen that on a sign-in form before. I couldn't read the few names above mine, they were horribly scrawled, but the few on the page above that were written in the same sort of heavy block penmanship, and on the species line was written "Gargoyle."

"I guess I'm not in Kansas anymore, Toto," I said quietly and filled out a white name tag that read: "Hello! My Name Is:" I almost wrote "Inigo Montoya," but settled for "Piper C." instead.

"Now what?" I asked Cecily.

She was checking her thick folder, flipping through pages. "Now you have to go before the USB and petition to become a member."

"That's it? They just vote to let me join?"

"No. They will vote whether or not to send your case before the Synod. _They_ will vote on whether or not you can join."

"Sounds complicated."

"Yup." She made a wry face. "We may not be human, but we have definitely copied your style of bureaucracy."

I looked around. The huge windows were mostly dark, outside lights having a hard time competing with the indoor brilliance. The concourse was filled with people. People, people, everywhere. Some were outlandishly dressed in dark robes with strange symbols embroidered all over, some were punked out in the latest Goth style, others looked like people you might meet at the PTA. But they all looked human.

"Are you _sure_ I'm the only human here?" I asked again.

Cecily looked at me and grinned. "I certainly hope you are human." Before she could say more we were surrounded by a menacing group. They were all tall, blond, slender, and incredibly beautiful. Or at least, I would have found them beautiful if they didn't look like they wanted to tear us limb from limb.

"Cecily," one of them spat. She was wearing a designer dress that looked like it was painted on her body. On me, that kind of dress would have highlighted every inch of cellulite, every tiny bulge, and the slightly sagging skin around my waist that came from childbirth. Looking at this woman I swore to myself again that I was getting a tummy tuck as soon as Mark and I were done having kids. I felt like an old dirty sneaker next to a pair of Jimmy Choo's. Not that I would know a Jimmy Choo if it kicked me in the butt. I was more a Payless sort of gal.

"Mailia," Cecily said calmly. "Greetings to you and your house."

"Bloodsucker," the gorgeous woman snarled. "You think you have won? This is just beginning. Your puny little human will not sway the Synod's vote."

"Piper," I said brightly, sticking my hand out, "Piper Cavanaugh. Nice to meet you."

The woman took a step back. "Your words will not work here, _human_." With that, she spun on her heel and regally marched off, her entourage following.

"Uh, Cecily?" I raised my eyebrows. "What's going on? Why would that woman care if I joined the USB?"

Cecily bit her lip. "Weeellll," she stalled. "It's a little more than that."

I restrained myself from grabbing her around the neck and shaking her until her teeth fell out. "How much more?"

She continued to chew on her bottom lip. "A lot more," she finally answered.

# Chapter Eleven

I grabbed Cecily's arm and pulled her down on a bench near the wall. "What aren't you telling me?" I demanded.

She looked out at the masses of humanity, no, make that human-like creatures, that swirled before us. One toe of her strappy sandals beat a nervous rhythm on the carpeted floor.

"Cecily?" I prompted.

"Piper," she still wasn't meeting my eyes. "There's a _lot_ I haven't told you. Centuries of infighting and political maneuvering have taken place at USB conferences. You've known about us for what, twenty-four hours? It's going to take some time to catch you up."

I crossed my arms and beat my own rhythm with my shoe. "So, take the time. You say that I need to join the USB. Fine. I'm here. I'm trying to join. Why did that woman threaten me?"

Cecily let out a long sigh. "That woman, as you say, is one of the Fae. UnSeelie Court. They don't really care so much for humans."

"UnSeelie Court?"

"There are two Courts of the Fae. The Seelie and the UnSeelie. The Seelie, while not particularly crazy about humans, at least don't mind them too much, and help out every once in a while. The UnSeelie hate humans and blame them for most of their problems."

I blinked. "Are these people like fairies?"

"No. Not really. There _are_ small humanoid Fae with wings called pixies. There are the type of Fae you will see here: tall, mostly blond, and very good looking by human standards. They call themselves The Elders. There are other sorts of Fae that would scare your socks off if you saw them. Most of them stay hidden from humans. The Elders represent all of Elfhame."

"So, this UnSeelie Court just doesn't want a human joining the USB?" It didn't sound like that big a deal to me.

Cecily chewed on her bottom lip some more. "Look Piper, a lot is riding on your application. The USB is pretty split on the human question right now. The side I work for wants you in. We want you in bad. That's why I was assigned to protect you for the last four years. The other side," she stopped and then shrugged. "Why beat around the bush? They want you dead."

"Why me? Why does it matter if I'm alive or not?" This was really freaking me out. "Am I in danger here?"

Cecily shook her head, "You are safe from magical attack here. The Bast insures that no magic is used within the walls of the conference. It keeps everyone on a level playing field."

"What is the Bast?"

"I told you," she said irritably. "Please try to pay attention. The Bast keeps everyone from using magic while at the conference."

"How does the Bast do that?" I wanted to know.

"Magic."

"So, magic is used to keep magic from being used?" This seemed rather convoluted to me. I had another thought, "What about those wand things at the door?"

"Those were outside the door. Inside they wouldn't work."

"What about _non_ -magical attack?" That seemed like a pretty big loophole to me.

"Non-magical attack would be very obvious, and the group responsible would be ejected from the conference and lose their membership privileges for the next four years."

"Wait a sec," I narrowed my eyes at her, "You're saying that if someone manages to kill me, they'll get caught and receive a little slap on the wrist? And _that's_ what you're counting on to keep me safe?" I was understandably a little perturbed.

"It's more than a slap on the wrist. It should be enough to deter any would-be assassins."

"Great," I muttered. "That'll make me real happy after I'm dead."

I saw the crowds begin to part down the concourse. Four large, black men were marching through the crowd, which split like a wave before them. These guys were huge and very muscular. I could tell because they weren't wearing any shirts, just pleated skirts that hung down to their knees and gold sandals. Each wrist was also banded in thick gold and a gold torque hung around each neck. In a word, they were impressive.

"Oh, crap," Cecily swore.

" _What_?" I squeaked. "What's 'oh, crap'? Who are those guys?"

"Crap, crap, crap," she said with feeling. "Look, Piper. They're going to take you to the Bast. It's very important that you make a good impression. She'll decide how your appeal will go to the—"

The four men stopped in front of our bench. They were too close for me to feel comfortable standing up, so I remained seated and smiled up at them. "Yes?"

"You will come with us," one spoke in a deep rumble. "The Bast wishes to speak with you."

Cecily nudged me and nodded. "Don't worry. I'll catch up with you later. Just _remember_ what I _said_." Her voice was heavy with emphasis.

I wanted to strangle her. Remember what she said? She said to make a good impression. What did that mean?

I stood up carefully, my smile still plastered on my face. "Okay. Let's go." Two of the men walked in front of me and two behind. I felt like Princess Leia surrounded by stormtroopers.

"Dantooine. They're on Dantooine," I said quietly. None of my escort so much as batted an eye.

They led me down a long hallway, past a restaurant, and then stopped at a closed door. They took up position outside the door, which one held open for me. "You will wait inside for the Bast," he said.

"Okay," I tried to sound unconcerned. "I'll wait." The door closed behind me and I was alone.

Everything about the Convention Center is big. This room was no exception. It was also empty except for a large rug in the middle of the room. On the rug was a gigantic carved wooden desk, complete with chair and lamp. In front of the desk were two armchairs with a small table in-between. The lamp was the only source of light in the room. It turned the setting of furniture into an oasis in a desert of darkness.

I sat down cautiously on one of the chairs and waited.

"Make a good impression," I said sarcastically to myself. "Sure. Because usually I just like to drool, stammer, and be rude. But now that I know to make a good impression, I'll be on my best behavior."

I stopped talking and listened. A low rumble was barely audible. I stood up and looked over the desk. In the chair behind was curled a huge, spotted, tabby cat. She looked up at me and blinked large green eyes. The purring continued.

"Hey, honey!" I crooned. "Aren't you gorgeous!" She stood up, stretched and hopped down out of the chair. "Where are you going?" I asked, and then smiled as she came around the desk. I sat back in the armchair and scratched my fingers on the arm. "Are you coming to visit me?"

She leapt gracefully up into my lap and began to groom her paw. I gently rubbed her under her chin and was rewarded by an even louder rumble.

"You are just the prettiest cat I have ever seen. Oh look, you have an earring. That's kind of a weird thing to do to a cat." She put her teeth on my hand. "It looks good on you," I assured her and scratched her behind the ears. "I'd love to take you home with me. Otis would love to meet you. But I'll bet someone would miss you. Yes they would."

She stretched out over my legs turning her head so I could scratch better. "You're lucky to be a cat," I told her. "You don't have to worry about being eaten by all the crazy creatures running around here. Well, take that back, maybe they like to eat cats too. I hope not. Do you belong to the Bast? She can't be too bad if she has you for a pet."

I looked around the room and hoped that no one was watching me from the dark corners. That would just be creepy beyond belief.

The cat hopped down off my lap and yawned. Then she headed back around the desk to her chair. "Thanks for letting me pet you," I said as she leapt lightly from the chair to the desktop.

"You're welcome," she answered.

I fell out of my chair hitting my tail bone on the floor. Slowly I stood up and looked at the cat. She was sitting on the top of the desk. Straight and tall, tail curled around her front paws. The earring glinted in the lamp light.

"Did you . . ." I sputtered.

"Yes." She regarded me coolly with unblinking eyes. "We are the Bast. You may call us Bastet if you wish."

Thanks, Cecily, I thought. You warn me to make a good impression but fail to mention the important little detail that I'm going to meet a _cat_. "Nice to meet you, Bastet," I said politely. "Umm, I'm sorry if I offended you earlier. I didn't know . . ." I trailed off.

"No offense has been taken. You are Piper Cavanaugh."

"Umm, yes. I am." This was totally tripping. How do you talk to a cat?

"We have heard many things of you. Of what species do you wish to be?"

She still hadn't moved. She looked like a statue. I wanted to kick myself. She looked _just_ like a statue. In high school I had gone on a field trip to a museum that was hosting an Egyptian exhibit. She looked just like the statue of the Egyptian cat goddess who, I was pretty sure, was called Bastet.

"Umm," I said again intelligently. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"We decide how you will apply to the United Supernatural Beings. Since you are a descendant of the Rhine Maidens, you may petition to join the mer-people."

"Uh," my brain seemed to be working very slowly. It still hadn't gotten past the shock of talking to a cat. "I'd like to be human. Please."

"Human." Her huge eyes blinked. It almost looked like she was smiling and I could definitely hear a purr. "Yes. We will allow you to petition as a human. But we warn you, it will not be easy to convince the Synod. As long as you are here we offer you our protection. But outside these walls you must defend yourself."

"Thank you," I stammered.

"You may go. We will follow your progress with great interest."

I stood up. I felt like I needed to say something. "Umm, Bastet? I meant what I said earlier. You _are_ the most beautiful cat I have ever seen."

She preened herself a bit. "We know," she purred, "but we thank you for recognizing it."

I backed slowly towards the door. It didn't feel right to turn my back on her. It opened before I could touch the knob and then I was in the hallway surrounded by the four guards once more.

"The Bast is pleased with you," one said with a smile. "You may return to your vampire."

I winced, "She's not really _my_ vampire per-se..." I quit talking. They were flanking the door again, unmoving. "Well, guys, thanks anyway!" I said cheerfully and headed back the way we had come.

"Piper!" Cecily grabbed me and spun me around. "What happened?"

I detached myself, none to gently. "Thanks to you? Nothing."

"Is she going to allow you to petition as a human?" Cecily's eyes were brimming with earnestness. I really needed to figure out what was going on. This seemed like way more than just concern for my health.

"Yes," I answered shortly, surprised by the look of excitement that crossed her face. "But first, you are going to tell me everything."

"Everything?" she cocked that one eyebrow at me.

"Everything," I said firmly.

She nodded. "Okay. Let's get a drink first though," and she led the way into the restaurant we had passed on the way down the hallway.

We found a quiet corner booth and ordered. Diet Coke for me, glass of A negative for her. If it was meant to be a compliment, since that was also my blood type, it failed. I was more pissed off than ever.

Cecily took a slow sip and swallowed. "Aliens," she said finally.

"Aliens," I repeated dryly.

"Yes. Aliens are coming."

"Are you trying to be funny?" I was still seriously annoyed.

"No. Five years ago the USB received communication from outside our galaxy. We will be expecting visitors anytime in the next year or two."

I snorted. "You're kidding right?"

"No. I'm serious. That's why everyone is in an uproar. The balance of power is being disrupted. What do they want? Why are they coming? How powerful are they? Are they tourists? Or an army? These are the questions that the Synod is dealing with."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything," was the confusing answer. "Humans have been a protected species. We are not allowed to openly prey upon you. We all draw our power from the human race; if the protection was lifted it would become a battle to see what species could feed the fastest. The group I work for believes that this would be disastrous with the coming possible threat. If we weaken ourselves with in-fighting we will be an easy victory for an attacking alien race."

I tried not to laugh. It was serious and I kind of believed her, but come on, no one says 'attacking alien race' without some kind of punch line following.

"Our opposing side, the ones that want you dead, believe that the time has come to reveal our powers here and gain as much strength as we can, as fast as we can, by draining you humans."

I didn't feel like laughing anymore. What I felt was a chill of fear. So far, the thought of vampires, werewolves, etc. hadn't worried me too much. How scary can a group be that holds civilized political meetings? Membership, conferences, and acronyms kind of whitewash the horror movie quality. The thought of becoming Eloi to their Morlocks was pretty grim.

"So if I am allowed to join the USB as a human..."

"The entire human race would remain protected. We are not allowed to openly prey on other member species."

I cracked a tight smile. "Great. Just peachy. No pressure or anything."

Cecily met my gaze with an apologetic grimace, "Not if you don't mind being dinner."

I started to tear my napkin into tiny pieces. "So if the USB _doesn't_ accept me..."

"The Synod," Cecily interrupted. "The USB will vote to send your case to the Synod. It's the only thing they can do. The Sentinel Synod will vote on whether to accept you or not."

"So who's on this Synod?" I wanted to know.

"Five beings. Vampire, Werewolf, Seelie Elder, Unseelie Elder, and a Naga."

"And their stance on humans? I mean, I'm assuming the vampires are pro, since you're here with me."

"Not quite," she looked embarrassed. "Vampires are pretty split. Some believe like me, that open feeding will weaken us." She gave the impression that the strength or weakness of the vampire race was the deciding factor for her, not the well-being of mere mortals. "Others agree with the WAND and the UnSeelie that if we are to face an alien invasion we must have as much power as quickly as possible."

"What about the rest of the Synod?"

"The werewolves are an unknown. They are small in number because of the hardships on a pregnancy where the mother changes from human shape to wolf every month. If it was 'open season'," she smiled without warmth, "they would be able to turn greater numbers of humans into Weres and increase their power."

I was really starting to feel sick to my stomach. It's not fun hearing about people like they are on the menu.

"The Seelie will most definitely side with the humans. They always have. The UnSeelie have allied themselves with the WAND." She spat out the acronym like a foul word.

"What's up with them?" I asked.

"They are pure evil." Her lip curled up in disgust. "They feed upon death, destruction, and fear. You are fortunate that one of them is not on the Synod at this time. However, they will do everything in their power to stop you and to sway the votes of the other members."

I gulped. This was getting better and better. Not only did the survival of the human race rest upon my shoulders, but now I had a group of crazy witches and necromancers after me.

Before she could get to the last group, whose name I had already forgotten, we were joined at our table by two men. They sat down without being invited. Both were tall, broad shouldered, and muscular. There the resemblance ended. One was white blond with almost invisible eyebrows and eyelashes, while the other had dark curly hair, a heavy five o'clock shadow, and a mass of chest hair peeking out the open collar of his shirt. The blond man was be-still-my-beating-heart handsome. The dark man reminded me of Wolverine, scary, intense, yet very attractive. I gave myself a mental poke to remind myself that I was married and not to drool.

Cecily and I had both been forced to scoot closer to the wall on our respective benches. We were effectively trapped in the booth and I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead.

The blond man spoke in a beautiful tenor. "We would like to make you a proposition."

# Chapter Twelve

I giggled. I really couldn't help myself. After all, what woman doesn't dream about being propositioned by a gorgeous man?

"I'm so sorry. I'm married," I said demurely and received a kick under the table from Cecily.

Just then an alarm bell rang through the building. A voice sounded over the loudspeakers, "General Assembly will be called to order in ten minutes. All members please make your way to the North Hall. General Assembly will be called to order in ten minutes. All members make your way to the North Hall."

The two men had already left the table. Cecily was staring after them with a bemused look on her face.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "That was Kethudrim, Elder of the Seelie Court. I did not recognize his companion, but he was definitely a were."

I thought about that for a moment. "The Seelie Court and the weres are both on the Synod, right?"

"Yes," Cecily smiled. "Perhaps your luck is changing, my little slurpee. We shall see. They will probably try to contact you again after the General Assembly."

"Should we be going?"

"Yes. It's down a level and going to be packed. If we want any kind of good seat we will need to hurry."

Everyone else in the Center had the same idea and we let ourselves be carried along with the flood of bodies moving towards the North Hall. Inside the hall, a tall stage was set up on one end. Row after row of chairs filled the rest of the room. At a glance, I would estimate it could seat thousands and thousands of people, and it was packed.

"Where did everyone park?" was my first thought. I hadn't seen that many cars in the lot.

"You don't have to drive to use a Zipline. There's one set up on the second level," Cecily whispered as we took our seats. "Now, try to stay awake. This may take a while."

Of course, now that she said that, I yawned deeply. It wasn't that late, but the moments of terror, confusion, and awe were beginning to wear on my energy. They could ride dinosaurs into the hall at this point and I wouldn't blink an eye.

On the stage were two large wooden tables centered on a carved podium in the middle. I couldn't read the name plates in front of each seat at the table, we were too far away. On either side of the stage were gigantic screens that were currently displaying the USB logo.

The room stilled as a man took the central podium and raised his hands. He was huge, muscled, and, like the Bast's guards, bare-chested.

"What is it with guys around here not wearing clothes?" I whispered to Cecily, who hushed me.

His head was shaved bald except for a long black queue which hung braided from the crown of his head. His facial hair was cut into a pointed goatee and mustache. Again, like the guards, he wore large gold clasps around each wrist. As he passed between the end of the table and the podium I could see that his lower half was swathed in some sort of loose billowing trousers that were clasped at the ankles. Once behind the podium he seemed to grow even larger as his face and chest were displayed thirty feet high on the projection screens. It was then that I noticed the most shocking thing about his appearance.

"Uh, Cecily?"

"Yes?"

"He's green."

"Yes?"

"I thought everyone was supposed to look human. Humans aren't green." I looked down at my skin to check, just in case I'd missed something all these years.

"He's a djinn. They can look however they want. Since he's the Lord High Moderator he's allowed to appear green."

"Lord High What?"

"Lord High Moderator. He's the head of the General Assembly."

I sang quietly to myself, "Behold the Lord High Mo-der-a-a-tor/ A personage of noble rank and title/ His skin is green his chest is muscular/ But his position is particularly vital," I had to slur the "But his" together to make it fit, but I was rather proud of my off the cuff Gilbert and Sullivan-ing. Cecily elbowed me before I could get to the "defers."

"Cecily?" I thought of another question.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes?"

"What's a djinn?"

She sighed. "A djinn is a demon. Have you seen Aladdin?"

"The Disney one?"

"Yeah, that was a djinn. A weak one. Most of them are far too strong to be captured in a lamp."

"Didn't he have 'phenomenal cosmic power'?"

"Yes. You don't mess with the djinn."

The meeting dragged on and I was getting bored. From what I could tell, without bugging Cecily for more answers, each species and sub-species had a representative at the table. For example, the selkies, skin-walkers, and werewolves were all part of the Were-creatures group but they each had a representative to speak for them. The representative was the only person allowed to talk and each of them was moderated by the djinn.

Apparently the topic at the moment was of magic power taxation. Each group was taxed according to the number of beings in it and how their powers were rated. The current debate was between the incubi, the demons, and the vampires. The incubi were petitioning to remove their status from the demons, who had, in the incubi's opinion, ridiculously high taxes, and move their membership to the vampires, who had agreed to tax them less. Since an incubus draws its power from feeding on human emotion, the vampires were arguing that it was similar to the way _they_ feed and therefore the incubi should be under their jurisdiction. The demons were understandably reluctant to lose the magical revenue.

There was great pontificating, yelling, insults, and even a physical altercation that had to be broken up by the Bast's guards. I could tell it was a good thing that the Bast prevented everyone from using magical powers, because the djinn looked like he wanted to blast the entire table to slag. As exciting as all this was, it soon began to get old. If you took out the magical element, they sounded just like every other politician using ten words where two would suffice.

The audience began to get restless. The representatives on stage who were not involved in the heated debate between the demon and vampire representatives were also losing interest. Finally the WAND member jumped to his feet and shouted, "Enough! We have more important things to discuss!"

"Here! Here!" shouted a tiny voice. I had previously thought that some seats were empty, but now could see that at least one was occupied by a tiny figure with hummingbird wings.

The djinn banged the podium loudly. "I too am bored with this debate. We shall table it and move on." There was a loud cry of outrage from all the vampires and, I assume, incubi in the audience. Since the djinn was also a demon, I wondered how impartial that decision was.

"We will now look at the petition of Piper Cavanaugh," the djinn said. The entire room hushed and all heads swiveled in my direction. I sank lower in my seat.

"Piper Cavanaugh," boomed the Lord High Moderator. "Please come to the podium."

Cecily gave me a helpful shove. I stood up and made my way up the aisle to the front. It seemed to take forever. Talk about uncomfortable, as I passed each row I could hear a whispering start behind me. I tried to tell myself not to worry. My mom always used to say that most people were too busy thinking about themselves to have any time to think about others. Ha. In this case, they were definitely thinking about, talking about, and critiquing me.

I made it up to the podium without tripping or otherwise embarrassing myself and stood awkwardly beside the green djinn. He was even larger up close. Probably a good seven feet tall. I stood up straighter. He made me feel petite and dainty.

"Why are you here?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically to my way of thinking.

No one had told me what I was supposed to say at this point, so I briefly hoped there was no special wording that was important. "I wish to join the United Supernatural Beings as a human," I said loudly. My voice was amplified and carried over the whole room.

"Objection!" screamed the bored witch from earlier. "Humans are not allowed!"

"That's why she's petitioning, you goat worshipper!" yelled someone else.

"This is totally against precedent!" another voice chimed in.

"She has magic! She should be allowed to join!" That was the vampire representative.

"I'm surprised you're not forcing her to join as a vampire! You greedy bloodsuckers!" responded the demon who obviously was holding a grudge about the incubus debate.

"How do we know she has power? We've never encountered magical humans before."

"For that matter how do we know she's human?"

"Throw her out!"

"Let her join!"'

"Vote!"'

"Vote!"

"Silence!" the djinn's voice was so loud that I heard ringing for a couple seconds afterwards.

"We cannot approve or deny her application," he continued calmly after the hubbub had died down. "The question is whether her application has enough merit to forward to the Sentinel Synod."

He cast his gaze down the tables, meeting each representative's eyes. "Are you ready for a vote?"

The witch raised his hand. I was now close enough to see the nameplates on the table. His read: Pravus-Witch. "I wish to address the assembly." He glared at me and I had to plant my feet to keep myself from hiding behind the djinn.

"You have two minutes." The djinn sounded bored.

Pravus stood and collected himself. "Fellow representatives, we all know why the vampires have dug this human out of the gutter and brought her before us. Do they think we are gullible? Do they truly believe that we will see this human as an example of her species? _No!_ We all know that humans are cattle. Food for our power. This frail creature is an aberration. An insult to Gaia herself! We should not shame this assembly with even the _thought_ of allowing such an abomination to sully our membership. I call for the immediate execution of this animal. It is wrong for us to allow it to exist." He sat and my jaw dropped open.

"Why you little—" I cried in a voice strangled with anger. The djinn laid a massive hand on my shoulder.

"The witch has asked for a _new_ vote. _First_ we must vote on the issue currently on the table. _Then_ , if his vote is still applicable I shall consider it." He sounded pleased that he could tick off the witch, whose face was turning bright red with suppressed anger. "Does this application have enough merit to forward to the Synod? Yea or Nay."

"I object!" Pravus screamed. He looked ready to have an apoplectic fit.

"Overruled." The djinn smiled with sharp green teeth. "I call for the vote."

"Yea."

"Yea."

"Yea."

"Yea." It went down the table until it reached Pravus.

"Nay!" he yelled predictably.

"Yea."

"Yea."

I think a couple others might have voted Nay, but it was overwhelmingly in my favor. I let out a shaky breath, suddenly aware that I had been holding it for quite some time.

"The yeas have it," the djinn said maliciously, leering at the witch. "Piper Cavanaugh, you will be contacted with the time and date of your hearing before the Synod. Your sentence of death is suspended until further notice."

Oh, good. I didn't know that was still in play. I tried to smile regally, made him a small bow and took my shaky legs down the stairs and back to my chair. I fell into it and gave Cecily a questioning look.

"Perfect," she grinned.

"Except for the part where the witch almost executed me," I hissed.

"It didn't work," she said coolly, like someone whose life had _not_ been on the line.

"Yeah, lucky for me," I grumbled. "What is it with those people?"

Cecily shrugged, "They're afraid they will be lumped in with the humans. Some of us can feed off witches as easily as humans." She grinned a toothy grin.

"So what happens now?"

"Now, you can go home. We'll be contacted when to show up again for the Synod meeting. It could be tomorrow. It could be next week. Since this is such an important issue, I imagine that they will find time to see you during the conference." She craned her neck to look around the hall. "Let's go." She stood up quietly and made her way to the exit.

"That's it?" I asked once we climbed the stairs back up to the second level. "Now the Synod votes?"

"After interrogating you, yes." Cecily was walking pretty fast. I stopped to grab a bottle of water from a large bucket of ice and then had to jog to catch up.

"What happens if they vote no?" I panted.

"I'm not sure." Her pace quickened.

"Where's the fire?" We were almost running now.

"We really need to get out of here quickly," she said over her shoulder.

"Why? What's going on? I thought he said that my death sentence was removed?"

"Suspended. Not removed. And if you were paying attention you would have noticed that several of the WAND left the hall at the same time we did."

I glanced back over my shoulder. "You're trying to scare me right? The Bast said that I was safe here."

"In here, yes, but we have to leave the building to get you home. I'm hoping we can get to the car before they set up an ambush."

"Shouldn't we like, get help or something?" I was getting dizzy trying to trot after her and still look in all directions at once.

"No one will help. You are not a member, and many of the species do not want to see you become one. Asking for help from the wrong person could be fatal. Besides," she slowed as we reached the entrance, "you have _me_. Stay behind me, walk fast, and if I say run, _run_."

"Okay," I gulped. I slid my water bottle into my purse so as to have both hands free.

We took the stairs two at a time and quickly made our way to the parking lot. There were lights everywhere so it didn't seem that dark out. The parking lot had filled since we had entered the Convention Center and I noticed randomly placed plants that I hadn't paid attention to on the way in. They weren't quite trees, and they weren't quite bushes. I said earlier that I'm not much of a botanist so when I say that the bottom looked like a bush, the middle like a six foot tall leek, and the top, a large orchidy flower, you'll just have to trust me. I had never seen plants like this before. Then again, if I had seen them before I probably wouldn't remember. There was something vaguely familiar about them and it bothered me.

"Cecily?" I asked, "Did you see those plants on the way in?"

"Not the time, Piper," she said sharply, "Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut."

We continued to walk quickly through the rows of cars until I saw her Honda Civic a couple of rows over.

"There's your car," I started to say when I was lifted from behind and thrown onto the hood of a nearby car.

Everything happened really quickly after that. Cecily whirled around at my cry and flung my attacker into the side of a truck. She was grabbed from behind by a second man and did some sort of karate move where one minute he was wrapping her in a bear hug and the next she flipped over his back and kicked him hard in the back of the knees. He went down with a groan and tried to spin around to take her feet out. I had a great view of his face as she spun-kicked and neatly impaled the sharp heel of her shoe deep into his eye socket. It made a wet sucking noise as she pulled it out before he slowly crumpled to the ground.

I was still frozen on top of the car where I had landed, which was how I saw the plants moving. It looked like the jungle was closing in on us.

"Cecily! The plants!" I yelled as the first attacker flung a ball of light through the air at her. She tried to dodge but tripped over the wiggling roots of the seven-foot plant that had sneaked up behind her. She rolled quickly and just barely missed being stung by a vicious jab from the flower head. Each flower had a sharp spike at its center and they were all trying to spear her.

Cecily was poetry in motion. She ripped a side mirror off a Suburban and threw it with deadly speed at the witch. I was assuming he was a witch since the mirror crumpled when it hit the blue sparkling force field he put up around himself. Cecily was being surrounded by the strange plants and having a hard time avoiding their stings. She managed to wrench the flower head completely off one of them and it let out an inhuman shriek and thrashed about on the concrete.

Two of the plants broke off from attacking her and came towards me. I scrambled quickly off the car and slid underneath a truck. The plants couldn't bend enough to reach me with their stingers but their roots were blindly groping, trying to grab my arms or legs.

I started fumbling in my purse. It's a rather large backpack style since, as a mom, I need both hands and arms free to keep track of little children. I also need to carry diapers, wipes, clean underwear for Megan, snacks, etc. I dumped everything out on the ground and kicked away a grasping root. I could hear grunts and crashes from where Cecily was still dealing with the attacking plants and with the witch who was remaining out of range and throwing balls of energy at her. I saw one connect with the stalk of a plant and it just disintegrated in flash of smoke. I hoped Cecily managed to avoid them.

The car shook as one of the plants tried to flip it over with its roots to get at me. Whatever I was going to do, I needed to do fast. I found my keychain light and flicked it on, quickly searching through the pile of detritus from my purse. Aha! It _does_ pay to never clean out your purse! I still had two packets of soy sauce from the last time we ate at Panda Express. I ripped off the top of the water bottle and squeezed the packets inside.

Rolling out from underneath the car, I shook the bottle violently and then squirted it at the nearest plant. If I was wrong this was going to be really embarrassing for about the five seconds it took them to sting me to death. Fortunately, I would then cease to feel embarrassed as I would be dead. I aimed right into the center of the flower. It let out that awful shriek and fell to the ground.

"Yes!" I screamed and aimed at the second flower. "Take that!"

"Piper!" Cecily sounded muffled. I turned to see her floating in the air grabbing wildly at her throat. It looked like an invisible hand was shaking her by the neck. The final plant was moving in for the kill, stinger ready to plunge into her chest. The witch was standing quite a ways away with his hand in a Darth Vader sort of grasp. I had no doubt who was responsible for choking Cecily. I made the quick choice to deal with the plant first. If it stung Cecily then it wouldn't matter if the witch let her go. Hopefully she could hold her breath a little longer. I squirted the rest of the bottle straight into the center of the flower and kicked it as hard as I could away from her. I expected to be blasted at any moment.

There was a deep snarl behind me and the biggest wolf I have ever seen plowed into the witch and ripped his neck so far open with one slash of fang, that, when the witch fell, the jolt tore the head completely free from the body. It rolled towards me with a look of shock frozen on the face. I guess he hadn't seen the need to keep his shields up while choking Cecily.

She fell to the ground gagging. Finally the parking lot fell quiet except for the sound of crickets and other city noises. I slid down the side of a car to sit carefully on my heels. I looked around, the wolf had disappeared and the plants were dissolving into a foul smelling goo that I really didn't want to get on my clothes.

Cecily got slowly to her feet and stared down at me. "You saved me," she said in shock.

I grinned big. I couldn't help it. The adrenaline was still rushing through my body. "I kicked butt."

"You did," she agreed. "What was in that bottle?"

"Soy sauce," I started to giggle.

"Soy sauce?"

"Yup. Soy Sauce." I was hopelessly laughing now.

"But what—" she couldn't even think how to phrase the question.

I had tears streaming down my face I was laughing so hard. "Those were Triffids."

"Triffids?"

"Yeah, you know, _Day of the Triffids_ , Howard Keel? They're allergic to salt water. Soy sauce is very salty." I tried to get a grip, but it was just too much. I was either going to laugh or cry. Then I looked over at the body of the first witch. He was face down, crumpled on the ground with a pool of blood growing under his head. The second witch's head was still facing me, eyes and mouth wide open. I fell over on my knees and began to throw up.

# Chapter Thirteen

I hate throwing up. Your throat burns, your nose hurts, your eyes water, and the smell is enough to make you throw up all over again. I couldn't stop though. I kept emptying my stomach until all that was left was dry heaving. I've never been one for violent movies and the sight of decapitation and eyeball skewering was going to make me queasy for quite some time. I refused to check Cecily's shoes to see if the eyeball was still stuck on the heel. I pictured it there like an olive on a toothpick and started to retch again.

Cecily was checking out our downed attackers. She bent over the decapitated head and poked it with her toe. "You didn't do this," she said.

I was trying to scrub my tongue off with the hem of my shirt. "thlo, blah, bleh, yuck." I gave up. "No, that was a wolf."

"A werewolf?"

"Unless your typical Orlando suburban wolf grows over 200 pounds."

"Hmm." Cecily toed the head a little harder and it rolled a few feet.

"Could you stop that?" I asked, hand over mouth.

"Why would a werewolf help us?" she mused.

"In hopes of a return favor," came a deep voice behind me. I spun and saw the dark haired man who had briefly joined us at our restaurant table. He was panting heavily and still buttoning up his shirt. I tried not to admire his chest and failed.

From the other side of the row came the blond Fae. He had a shining sword in hand and would have looked at home on the cover of a medieval romance novel. He wiped something dark off the blade with a cloth and slid it smoothly into a sheath on his back.

"More?" asked the werewolf.

"Two. At the lot exit."

"And now?"

"None." The Fae smiled and I shivered. He looked down at the head near his feet. "I see you were busy as well."

Cecily was standing rigidly in the center of the aisle. Hands clawed at her sides. She watched warily as the Fae walked over to one of the plants and bent to touch it. His head snapped up.

"Triffids!" he said in surprise. "Who killed them?" He looked at the were in puzzlement.

I was getting a little fed up with being ignored and underestimated.

"I did," I said and picked up my fallen bottle of soy water. It was better than nothing so I squirted some in my mouth, swished it around and spat. "What do you want?"

The Fae smiled warmly at me and suddenly I wanted to trust him. I wanted to tell him everything and let him fix all my problems. I took a step towards him and then stopped myself.

"Stop that," I commanded with the Voice and the impulsion fell away. "Tell me what you want, now, or go away," I commanded again. I was done playing the nice guy. Clearly my ability was the only thing that put me even remotely _near_ an even footing with these people. I could feel guilty about it later, right now I just wanted to stay alive.

"We need your help," the were answered. He broke off and stared at me. "You _are_ a Rhine Maiden!" he said in awe.

"I'm human," I said shortly. "And I'm tired and I want to go home. So if you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, get out of my way."

Cecily moved silently over to stand behind me and off to the side. She had relaxed a bit, but still looked ready to spring in any direction. I felt better knowing she had my back.

The blond man made a low, sweeping bow in my direction, "We apologize for our rudeness. We have need of your help, and can offer you help in return."

"What kind of help?" I wanted to know.

"Two votes from the Synod," the were rumbled.

"Two?"

"The Seelie Fae and the weres will vote to accept your membership," he growled, "for a price."

"What price?" Cecily spoke for the first time.

"There is a simple task to complete," the Fae said smoothly. "When it is done we will vote for you."

I frowned. I was tired, still pretty freaked out, and really didn't want to stand here smelling the coppery smell of blood and the stench of vomit. I started walking towards the car.

"Wait!" the Fae looked shocked. "Why are you leaving? Don't you want to hear our offer?"

I spun on my heel, "I don't know you. I don't know your name, or what you want. I'm grateful for your help tonight and if you wish to meet tomorrow to discuss a deal," I put up a hand to silence him as he opened his mouth to interrupt. "Tomorrow," I said firmly, " _after_ I've had a bath, brushed my teeth, and gotten a good night's sleep. Then I will talk with you."

Now it was Cecily's turn to trot to catch up. We got in the car and drove off without another word, the were and the Fae still standing in the middle of the aisle with surprised looks on their faces. Just as we turned the corner at the end I heard the were start to laugh.

Cecily turned to me, "That was stu—"

My phone rang. I glanced down at the screen. It was Sarah!

"Hang on, I need to get this," I told Cecily. "Hello?"

"—otta call someone. Oh! Hi! Hey!" a strange voice said.

"Hello?" I said again, "Who is this?"

"Oh, umm, yeah. This is Rachel. I'm like, uh, friends with Sarah."

"I remember you," I said dryly. She was a little hard to forget with her pink hair and multiple facial piercings. I had hoped that she and Sarah were drifting apart. My mom was positive that Rachel was just insecure and needed a good friend like Sarah to balance her out. I wasn't so sure about that.

"Why are you calling on Sarah's phone?" My heart leaped into mom panic mode, "Where's Sarah? Is she okay? What's happened?"

"Chill out, Piper! Everything's cool. Sarah's like, fine, but..." she trailed off and I heard fierce whispering going on.

"Rachel!" I yelled, "Tell me what's going on, now! Is Sarah there?"

"Yeah, she's here. She just doesn't want to, like, talk to you. But I said, man, we've got to call someone and you're, like, better than calling her mom."

I gripped the phone hard, "Put Sarah on now," I ordered.

There was a shuffling sound and then I heard my sister's belligerent voice, "Piper."

"What is going on?" I almost screamed. Cecily was looking inscrutable but something told me she could probably hear both sides of the conversation just fine. I know she could hear _my_ side. The people in the next _car_ could probably hear my side.

"You are so prone to overreact," Sarah said infuriatingly. "This is why I didn't want to call you. I do _not_ need your help."

My teeth gritted together, "And what is going on that you do not need my help for?"

"Nothing."

I heard a whisper from the background, "We _do_ need help, Sarah! Tell her!"

"Fine. We need a ride home."

"Okay," I tried to remain calm, "Where are you?"

"We're down in Malabar." Malabar was the town to the south of Melbourne. It was small, spread out, and very rural.

"Where in Malabar?"

"We're down off Corey and Valkaria." That was _way_ south.

"What are you doing down there?" The million dollar question.

"Why is that any of your business?" she snipped.

"It _is_ my business if I'm going to drive all the way down there in the middle of the night to pick you up. How did you get down there? Where's your car?"

She sighed the martyred sigh of the misunderstood, "We left my car at the movie theater."

"And what, _flew_ down there?" I wasn't feeling very understanding.

"No," the word had several extra annoyed syllables.

"Then what?"

"We got a ride." This was like pulling teeth.

There was another scuffle on the other end.

"Hey, Piper, it's me, Rachel."

"Rachel, what is going on?" I was getting seriously fed up.

"Okay, like, don't freak or anything. Promise?"

"I promise," I lied.

"Okay, we were at the movies when we met these college guys." I managed to keep the groan from escaping my lips. "They were throwing this awesome party and we got invited. So, we, like, caught a ride with them, only we didn't know it would be way down here."

"Are you girls safe right now?" I had visions of all sorts of horrors that were completely human in nature.

"Yeah, we're, like, hiding in the bushes down the road."

Oh, fantastic. _Just_ what I wanted to hear. I felt so reassured now.

"So yeah, like, the party was great and all, but then the police showed up." Better and better. I could feel my blood pressure rising rapidly.

"The police."

"Yeah, there was some... uh, yeah, anyways, the police came and we, like, got out the back door before they could talk to us. Sarah says we're fine, but I _know_ they saw us. They're probably looking for us right now! My dad'll kill me if I get arrested!"

I closed my eyes and had a quiet moment of _Why, God? Why me?_

"Okay," I said when I could trust myself not to yell. "Stay where you are. Don't talk to anyone, and I'll be there as soon as I can." I looked over at Cecily, who looked suspiciously like she was trying not to laugh. She nodded.

"Okay," Rachel sounded very young and afraid.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. You girls just stay safe for a few more minutes. I'll call you when I get to Valkaria Road." I hung up and bashed my fist on the dashboard a few times.

"Feel better?" Cecily asked.

I glared at her. "No, I do _not_ feel better. I'm calling my mom right now." I dialed the number and it rang a few times before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Mom, this is Piper."

"Oh, Piper! I'm so glad you called. We're almost out the door to catch the red eye, but I forgot to ask Sarah to make sure to feed and walk the dog every day and I can't get her on her cell. She must still be in the movies. Can you remind her? And don't forget to check up on her. Maybe you could have some special sister time! Oh! Your father's calling me. Got to run! I'll call you from California!" and she hung up.

I was left holding the phone and feeling shell shocked. "Mom?" I asked into the silence, unable to believe that she was already gone. Nothing. I flipped the phone shut. Cecily snickered.

"I really don't need this right now," I groaned.

"Maybe we should have stayed and talked to Kethudrim and the werewolf."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure I will be talking with them, sooner than I want to. This whole thing is crazy. I don't want to join some sort of magic group! I just want to be normal! And aliens? Give me a break. That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"To whom much is given, much is required." Cecily sounded like she was quoting something.

"What's that, Shakespeare?"

"No. The Bible."

"The Bible?" I was surprised. I thought vampires burst into flames if they came near something Christian.

"Yes." Cecily raised that eyebrow at me again, "And now would be the time to start praying we make it through this Zipline without being attacked again." We were pulling up into the same gas station we had arrived through.

For a wonder, we were waved through without incident. "They probably don't want to make an open attack on you," was Cecily's reasoning. "That would be a little hard to explain to the Synod."

"But triffid-ing us to death in a parking lot is just peachy."

"Well," she shrugged, " _Anyone_ could have done that. It's deniable."

I had no response for that. What do you say to someone who believes that being attacked by sentient plants out of an old sci-fi movie is so normal that _anyone_ could have done it?

We exited back in Melbourne, safe and sound. "Do you need to get home?" I asked, "I can get my own car to go get Sarah."

"And not get to meet her?" Cecily said in mock horror. "I wouldn't _dream_ of missing this." Her lips pulled up in a huge crocodile grin.

I slumped in my chair. Oh well, maybe having strangers around would keep Sarah and me on our company behavior. She had better hope so, because I was ready to lock her in a closet and throw away the key. At least until mom got home. Two weeks. Just fantastic.

After a mile or so of silence Cecily spoke, "So, your little sister, she's a lot younger than you?"

"Yeah. Ten years."

"Must be hard."

"Tell me about it, she can be a pain in the neck, but I love her."'

"I meant for her."

"What! Why?"

"How many mothers does she have to deal with?"

I opened my mouth to retort and then closed it. Karen and I both treated Sarah more like a daughter than a sister. It probably drove her crazy. Maybe I should cut her some slack and let my parents do the parenting. They just seemed to be letting her get away with everything these days.

When we got far enough south, I called Sarah's cell.

"Hey," she said dully.

"We're almost there. Where are you?"

"We?"

"Yeah, I'm with a friend."

"Great," meaning the exact opposite. "We'll meet you at the corner." She hung up. I stuck my tongue out at the phone.

"Corner it is," Cecily chirped happily. She was enjoying this way too much.

We pulled up at the stop sign and I looked down the crossroad. There were tons of flashing lights about a quarter of a mile down. A knock on the window made me jump. Cecily popped the locks and two girls tumbled into the backseat.

"Go, go, go!" one squeaked.

Cecily did a three point turn and headed back the way we came. All of us kept looking out the back window to see if anyone was following. Finally we relaxed and there was a couple seconds of peace. I had to break it.

"So," was all I said.

"You're so judgmental! Like you never got in trouble before!" Sarah practically screamed at me.

"Not with the police," I muttered.

"Just take us back to my car," Sarah snarled, then folded her arms over her chest and slouched in the seat.

"You're very welcome," I said sarcastically.

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Yes, you did. And if you think Mom is not going to hear about this you are wrong."

"Oh, how mature, Piper." Her voice took on a high pitched whining quality, "'I'm going to tell Mom on you, nah, nah, nah.'"

"Oh grow up, Sarah!"

"You're not my mother. You're nothing to me!" She started to cry.

Cecily took a deep breath, "Wow, and I always wanted a sister."

Rachel had the gall to laugh. Sarah and I sat in stony silence for the rest of the trip. I was feeling pretty low by the time we reached the movie theater so I tried to offer an olive branch.

"You want to go to lunch tomorrow?" I asked tentatively.

"No." She slammed the car door behind her and marched off.

"Uh, thanks for the ride, Piper," Rachel said quietly and ran off after Sarah.

Cecily looked at me, "That went well," she grinned. I glowered. "You handle werewolves, vampires, and triffids, no problem, but your own baby sister..."

"I know," I groaned. "Something about her turns me into a nagging monster."

"You were pretty harsh," Cecily agreed.

"Harsh! She was running from the police after doing God knows what at a party she was too young to be at!" I was getting worked up again.

"Yeah, but she called you. That says something."

"Maybe," I muttered.

We drove home and Cecily pulled into my driveway first. "I'll walk you to the door. Don't forget your diapers."

None of the bushes attacked on the way up the walk and I turned at the door. "I'm going to have to talk to the were and what's-his-face tomorrow."

"Kethudrim, and yes, probably."

"I need their vote."

"You do."

"I'm not going to want to do whatever it is that they want me to do."

"Probably not."

I sighed. "Life used to be so easy. Comparatively."

Cecily patted me on the shoulder. "You're doing great. Things could be worse."

"Yeah, like humans being hunted into extinction by figments of our imagination."

"Yeah, that would be worse." Cecily grinned, "Don't worry, it still could happen," and on that cheery note she left.

# Chapter Fourteen

"Mom? Mom, are you awake?" Fingers jabbed into my eye and pried it open.

"Aurgh," I moaned and yawned. It was seven a.m. I yawned again; I had gotten nowhere near enough sleep last night. And I had also forgotten to check the gate in the girls' hallway. Obviously it had been left open, hence my early morning visitor. Mark was still peacefully snoring. I burrowed back into bed and mumbled, "No, I'm not awake."

"But I saw your eyes," Megan persisted.

"No you didn't."

"Yes, I did. See?" The little fingers found my eyelids again and poked.

"Ow!" I tried to pull my pillow over my head. "Go talk to your father."

"But I need help, Mommy."

"Why?" I groaned, "It's too early in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"I can't go back to sleep."

"Why not?" I sighed.

"Cassidy woke me up."

"Tell _her_ to go back to sleep."

"She can't."

"Why not?" I asked again.

"Because she's crying."

"What?" I sat up in bed. "Why is she crying?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"She's stuck."

I cocked my head to listen. I could hear a faint wailing. I was out of bed in a flash and down the hall. The closer I got, the louder the wails grew. When I burst through the door I couldn't see Cassie at all.

"Cassie?" I called, looking frantically around.

"Mommy!" came a cry from under the bed. I flopped on the ground and peered under. She was trapped back against the wall, since _someone_ had pushed two toy strollers, a step stool, and various other stuffed animals and toys in around her.

I started to clear a path. "I stuck! I stuck!" she cried.

"It's okay. Here you go. Just wiggle out now." She finally made it with a little pull.

"Megan!"

"Yes?" Megan looked the correct mix of innocence and concern.

"How did she get stuck?"

"She crawled in there."

"I know she crawled in there; how did she get stuck?"

Megan shuffled one foot on the floor and searched for answers on the ceiling.

"Did you push all that stuff in after her?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Okay, I'll tell the truth," she broke, "I wanted her to be quiet so I stuck her under the bed."

I rubbed my bleary eyes and yawned yet again. I could get mad, but many were the times I wished I could stick them _both_ somewhere to make them be quiet.

"Be nice," was all I said and headed for the door.

"I'm not in trouble?" Megan asked in wonder.

"Not right now," I said tiredly. "I'm going to get a shower. Just be good 'till I get back."

Mark was getting up when I came back in the room. "Did you have fun last night?" he asked.

Fun? Not exactly how I would put it. "Yeah. We had a good time," I lied.

"What'd you do?"

Oh, you know, met a vampire, talked to an ancient Egyptian goddess, battled some witches and walking plants, the usual.

"Um, we just kind of drove around, got some food, you know, saw the sights." I ducked into the bathroom to avoid further prevarication. I'm a horrible liar. I would take pride in that except then I would be trading one sin for another.

The girls finished breakfast quickly for once and headed out to the backyard to play. I sat at the counter sipping my coffee in peace. For someone who loves having a plan and a schedule I was a little at a loss. I didn't even know if there _was_ something I could be doing right now.

"Mommy!" Megan yelled. "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

"Yes?" I called back without turning around.

"There's a dragon in the fort that wants to eat us!" I could hear Cassie mock screaming and running around the yard.

"That's nice," I replied still drinking my coffee. Maybe I should have talked to those two men last night. I could use every vote I could get.

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" Megan yelled again.

"Yes?" there was a touch of annoyance in my voice.

"Cassie and I are birds and we're eating all the bugs in the yard."

"Good, honey." What would really happen if they voted not to accept me? How much did the future of the human race really depend on this? Would they execute me? What about my children? Would my girls have any of my abilities?

"Mommy!" Megan interrupted my thoughts.

"Yes."

"There's a big man in the backyard who wants to come in the house."

"Uh-huh." I wasn't really paying attention.

"No, really, Mommy. There's a big man and his friend and they want to come in the house."

"No men in the house," I said absentmindedly. I had to do something. I took my coffee cup over to sink and rinsed it out. When I turned to put it in the dishwasher I glanced out the back window. Sure enough, there were the two men from last night standing in my yard, talking to my children.

Never mess with a mother. I didn't even stop to think. I ran to my bedroom, grabbed the shotgun off the top shelf of the closet, grabbed the handful of silver loaded shells, and starting feeding one in as I ran to the backyard. I had two shells in and was pulling the stock to my shoulder before I even made it out the door.

"Megan. Cassidy. Go inside, now," I commanded, the Voice coming easier to my lips each time I used it. They waved goodbye to the two men and trotted past me into the house.

The Fae stood relaxed, hands at his sides with an obnoxious grin on his face. The were started by looking at me in disdain, then he sniffed the air. His brow furrowed and he slowly raised both hands above his face. The Fae looked at him in surprise.

"Silver shot," the Were rumbled and the Fae quickly put his own hands above his head.

"Mrs. Cavanaugh," he said smoothly, "I assure you, we mean you no harm."

I was trembling with rage, "How dare you come here, into my backyard, talking to my children!"

"We did not wish to be seen at your front door," the were growled. "May we put our hands down?"

He still didn't really think I would shoot him. I wanted to pull the trigger just to prove I could and would, and to get revenge for his first disdainful look, but I didn't. I lowered the shotgun slowly. "What do you want?"

"First, shall we introduce ourselves?" the blond man asked, like he was at tea with the queen.

"Fine," I said shortly, "You know me. Who are you?"

"I am Kethudrim, Elder of the Seelie Court, and this is Jonathan Halbert, of the weres."

"Nice to meet you," I said sarcastically, "Now what do you want?"

"Would you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?" Jonathan asked.

"Look. I don't know what you want, but you show up in my backyard, threaten my children, and you expect me to ask you in for coffee?" My trigger finger was getting itchy. Jonathan took a step forward and I swung the barrel up at him again.

"Take another step and you're dead," I snarled. I had seen too many movies where the stupid hero lets the bad guy get too close and then gets the gun knocked out of his hands. That was _not_ going to happen to me. Granted, a dead werewolf in my yard would be a little harder to explain to the authorities than a dead human, but, if mankind was doomed, it wouldn't matter for long.

Kethudrim put his hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "Patience, my friend," he said soothingly. "We have a request to make of you," he said to me, "If you will hear us out, we will explain how we can be of service to each other."

The side gate creaked and both men's eyes swiveled to look behind me. Great. There could be nothing there, and when I turned to look, they would overpower me and take the gun, or someone could be sneaking up behind me to jump me and I was standing here like a dunce not looking. I took some cautious steps back towards the house, keeping one eye on the trespassers and trying to get a peripheral view of the gate.

"What's going on?" It was Cecily. I almost dropped the gun in shock. She looked awful: haggard, tired, bags under eyes, and skin pasty white.

"You're alive!" I blurted.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I'm alive. Now what's going on?"

"But the sun!" I looked up in the sky to make sure the sun was still there.

"Old wives tale."

"Perhaps we could talk over coffee?" Kethudrim suggested.

I waffled mentally, then decided I felt safer with Cecily there. Although the idea that vampires could be running around in the daytime was a little unnerving.

I waggled the shotgun at the men and they entered the porch before me. "I thought vampires burned up in the sun," I hissed at Cecily. Little surprises like that were not welcome at the moment, but I _was_ glad she was there.

"We lose most of our abilities during the day," she replied. "And it's not the most comfortable feeling in the world, so if you don't mind," she headed for the house. Both men had paused at the sliding glass door. They looked back at me expectantly.

Cecily moved forward slowly, as if testing the air and then smiled. "You have wards up! Very good!" I'd forgotten all about the herbs. Yesterday seemed like a lifetime ago. "You have to invite us in."

"You are all invited in," I said with a sour smile, "just for today," I added, hoping I could really add a time limit. Maybe I should rescind the invitation as soon as we were done talking.

I paused at the door, shotgun in hand, and surveyed my domain. A Fairy was in the kitchen helping himself to the coffee pot, a werewolf was trying to get comfortable on one of the counter stools, and a vampire was pulling the curtains shut over one of the windows so the sun wasn't in her eyes. Home sweet home.

"Mommy, why do you have a gun?" Megan asked at my side. "Are you going to shoot some ducks for dinner?"

I grimaced. "No, honey, now go to your room to play with Cassidy," I commanded. They ran off giggling to their room and slammed the door. I turned my attention back to my unwelcome guests. "So," I said grimly, sitting at one end of the kitchen table and placing the shotgun, none too subtly, on the table before me, "Why are you here?"

Jonathan, the werewolf, eyed the gun apprehensively and chose the chair to my right, somewhat out of the barrel's direct line of fire. Cecily chose the seat to my left, leaving the seat straight in front of the barrel for Kethudrim, who sat down without concern, coffee mug in hand. They all eyed each other in distrust.

"Bloodsucker," greeted Jonathan with a sneer.

"Dog," shot back Cecily. Jonathan snarled and started to jump to his feet.

"Pet. Tinkerbell. Mosquito." I pointed the shotgun at each one, "Shut up and play nice, or do I have to permanently separate you?"

Jonathan and Cecily relaxed somewhat in their chairs. Kethudrim smiled questioningly, "Tinkerbell?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Fairy, Tinkerbell. Top of my head."

He grinned at me lasciviously, "I assure you, my dear, there is nothing tiny about me. Nor do I play children's games. But I do like to play with women." He looked suggestively over the parts of me showing above the table. "Beautiful women," he added.

I rolled my eyes, "And I'm a married mother of two, so, not interested. Now, if we can have a normal conversation without insulting, or attempting to seduce each other, that would be nice."

Jonathan snorted back a laugh. "Fine, human. There is a certain object we wish for you to retrieve for us."

"What kind of object?" Cecily interjected.

"A statue," he said quietly.

My eyes narrowed, "What _kind_ of statue?" I could just picture myself trying to run off with the Lincoln Memorial.

Kethudrim reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture. It was of a small, clay (or perhaps brown stone) carving of a naked woman. She had massive breasts, a rounded belly, and exaggerated genitals. It was hideous. I made a face and pushed the picture back across the table.

"Eww. Who wants that? The art police?"

Kethudrim touched the picture reverently, "She is a fertility statue."

I wrinkled my nose sarcastically, "I couldn't tell."

He frowned at me, "You would not understand such things, human."

"I know ugly when I see it."

"Appearance is not important."

I pulled the picture back towards me and looked at it again. Yup, it was still as ugly as ever.

"Well," I said dryly, "it must be an _anti_ -fertility statue, because one look at that would definitely knock my husband out of the mood."

Jonathan snatched the picture. "We do not need your artistic opinions."

I glared at him, "So what _do_ you need?"

"We need you to—" Kethudrim paused and looked up at the ceiling, "recover" he decided was the right word, "the statue for us."

"You mean steal," Cecily yawned.

"Steal!" I squeaked, "You want me to commit a crime?"

"It was stolen from us," Jonathan growled.

"Who stole it?" I asked suspiciously. Anyone with the balls to steal something from the werewolves was probably not the kind of person I wanted to mess with.

"Will you do it?" Kethudrim asked.

"Who stole it?" I said louder.

"The question is whether you are willing to retrieve this for us," he said coolly.

" _Who stole it_?" I yelled.

"The WAND," Jonathan muttered.

"Oh ho ho," I shook my head. "I am _not_ going to mess with them. They already hate my guts."

"All the more reason to obtain a membership in the USB. Without that you are as good as dead," Kethudrim pointed out.

"Cecily?" I pleaded.

She rubbed her eyes. Man, she looked bad. If I looked that bad during the day, I probably wouldn't go outside in the sun either. "He's right, Piper. If they will promise to vote for your acceptance it would be worth the risk."

"Two votes! Two lousy votes! I need three. Two still gets me killed."

Jonathan looked down his nose at me, "Two is all we can promise. The UnSeelie Fae will most undoubtedly vote against you; with our votes you at least have a chance. The Naga are notoriously hard to predict."

"So this is basically blackmail," I complained.

"Call it what you will," Kethudrim shrugged, "we need you and you need us."

"Just for kicks, let's pretend that the statue is off the table. What would you take in its place?"

"Your children," Kethudrim said. I started to laugh until I saw he was in earnest. Jonathan nodded as well.

" _What?"_ I screeched, "You can't be serious!"

"In place of the statue we would accept both your children as substitute."

"Ask me after a shopping day," I muttered. I looked around the table. I couldn't see a way out. I really liked living and there was no way I was giving up my kids.

"Fine, Rumpelstiltskin," I grumbled. "But you have to tell me what is so special about that stupid statue."

# Chapter Fifteen

There was the sound of a key in the front door. Everyone froze.

"Honey?" It was Mark. "I forgot my laptop."

I shoved the shotgun at Cecily and ran to the front hall. "Hi, babe!" I kissed him, "What do you need?"

"I forgot my laptop." He was headed around me for the bedroom. His path would take him straight past the kitchen table and then there would be questions. I had a split second to come up with a solution that didn't involve using my Voice and I failed.

"Stop right here," I commanded. "I'll get your laptop for you. Don't move." I raced back to the bedroom and scooped up the case. I made a shushing motion in the general direction of the kitchen table as I hurried back to the front hall. "Here you go!" I was a little out of breath. "Anything else?"

"Nope," Mark hugged me, "Thanks, babe, see you tonight!" He left, none the wiser.

I breathed a sigh of relief and tried not to feel guilty. It wasn't like I was cheating on him or anything. Oh no, I was just lying and manipulating. _Totally_ different.

I stomped back to the kitchen in a less than cheerful mood. There was a crash and a cry from the girls' room.

"Hold on a second," I groaned and went to check out the commotion. Megan and Cassidy appeared to be trying to climb the bookshelf and then jump off onto Megan's bed. The second shelf had broken and spilled Megan on the ground. She was crying loudly and dramatically, which made me suspect the seriousness of her injuries.

"What do you think you are doing?" I asked the age old question.

"I hurt myself!" Megan wailed.

"Bad idea!" I pointed at the bookshelf. "You are not supposed to climb, or jump, on anything!"

"I'm hurt! I'm hurt!"

Cassidy started to feel left out. She dropped on the floor by Megan and started crying too, "I hurt! I hurt too!"

I made a face at them. "You are _not_ hurt and your acting skills need work. Now, pick up all these books and stop climbing on the furniture. I'll be back in a second to check on you."

I marched back to the kitchen and faced three pairs of concerned eyes.

"Are your children all right?" Kethudrim asked.

"Yes," I snapped, "they're just fine."

"But your daughter was crying!" Jonathan looked shocked that I hadn't called 911.

"Look, I don't tell you how to turn into an animal; you don't tell me how to raise my children."

"But—"

I held up a hand, "Hush. I do not need parenting advice from people who would steal my children. Obviously you know nothing about kids or being a parent."

Kethudrim sat back like I had slapped him. There was such pain in his eyes that I desperately wanted to take back my last words. "I'm sorry," I didn't know what else to say.

"I would give up my life if it would enable my consort to have children," he said sadly.

"And I for my mate," Jonathan agreed.

"So ya'll can't..." I didn't know how to delicately ask the question.

Cecily took over, "The Fae are allergic to cold iron. The more humans build and make things of steel the less the Fae are able to reproduce."

"Is that why the UnSeelie hate us?" I asked.

"Yes," Kethudrim answered. "They blame you for our lack of children. We all see how you treat your children. Unwanted, abused, murdered, cast off for strangers to raise, this angers all of us. We of the Seelie Court believe that there is still hope for the human race. Some of us have even chosen consorts from among humans in attempt to continue our existence. Even a half breed child has more magic than a human, and a magically handicapped child is better than no child at all."

I was at a loss for words. I couldn't imagine life without my kids, even on the days when I wanted to sell them to the gypsies. The longing in his voice when he spoke of children made me feel guilty for all the times I had not cherished my babies.

"They also take human children who are unwanted and raise them in Faerie," Cecily added.

"We have trouble bearing young as well," Jonathan added, before I could really process that last statement. "Our females must change at the full moon and such violent magic is hard on the unborn," his eyes filled with tears as he contemplated some past sorrow. "My mate has miscarried several times. Our numbers are dwindling," he glared at me, "that is why we _must_ retrieve the statue."

I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I could feel a stress headache coming on. _Why me? Why me?_

I exhaled loudly, "Okay, fine, you got me. I'll help. Where is this statue?"

Kethudrim and Jonathan looked at each other. "We don't know," they finally said.

"You don't know," I repeated.

"We know it is somewhere in Orlando," Jonathan volunteered unhelpfully.

"Orlando," I smiled, "Great! That's such a small place, it should be easy to find! Lucky me it's not hidden in one of the _largest cities in Florida_." I tapped my lip, "Oh wait, I mean the exact opposite."

They glared at me, "No need for sarcasm."

"Oh, yeah?" I was getting belligerent. "I think there's plenty of need. First, you come here uninvited and tell me that unless I do a little thievery for you you'll kill me, and then you tell me that the object you want me to steal is impossible to find and I only have a day or two to find it!" I glared right back, "I think that's all the reason in the world for sarcasm. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I should go make my funeral arrangements."

Cecily laid a hand on my arm to quiet me, "You must have some sort of idea," she addressed Kethudrim.

"Yes," he answered and pulled out a map of Orlando.

"Oh, fantastic," I was on a roll, "you couldn't have mentioned that sooner?"

He refused to answer and spread the map out on the table. I had to move the shotgun out of the way. Twelve areas on the map were highlighted in yellow. "What are these?" I asked.

"These are the WAND strongholds in Orlando. They are impervious to our magic. We believe that the WAND is using some sort of protection spell to shield their activities."

Cecily whistled softly, "That would take a _ton_ of magic."

"Yes," Jonathan agreed, "We have never seen shields so strong before, which means that they are preparing for something big. The fertility statue must be at one of these locations."

I looked at the map, "That's still a lot of area to search. Why can't you people just go out there and start looking?"

Jonathan used a talking-to-idiots-and-small-children voice, "Their shields prevent any magical being from entering."

"Besides," Kethudrim added, "My Queen and the were leader are currently at peace with the WAND, so entering one of their domains uninvited would be an act of war."

"So how am _I_ supposed to get in?"

"You're not magical," Cecily said flatly, "You're human."

"But I _have_ magic," I protested.

"Yes," she nodded, "but you, yourself, are not magical."

I wasn't sure I understood the difference but I had already thought of another question. "The shields don't work against humans?"

"That is our hope," Kethudrim said.

I sighed some more and rubbed the bridge of my nose harder. This was nuts.

"Let me recap again. You need this statue. The WAND have it. Has it. Curse the English language! Anyway, it's hidden somewhere you don't know where, and can't get into, in Orlando. If you try to get it, you're at war with the WAND, who somehow are accessing a huge amount of power. And you want me to find it and steal it."

"Yes."

I leaned back in my chair. "You're crazy."

"If we're crazy then you are dead," Jonathan growled.

I ignored that and studied the map. "Is there anything in common that these areas center on?"

"They are all different places of business," was the answer.

"How did the WAND get the statue?" I was curious.

"They stole it from Elfhame," Kethudrim sounded angry.

I felt an idea growing in my head. "Why would they steal it?" I asked, studying the map.

"Perhaps they stole it so that our numbers would weaken," Jonathan shrugged, "What does it matter? They stole it."

I turned the map to look at it from a different angle.

"Cecily, remember last night, when we went through the Zipline?" she nodded, "You told me that if a human ignored the warnings and tried to enter, they would be turned over to the WAND right?"

"Yes," she didn't see where I was going.

"What would the WAND do with them?"

She thought, "They would most likely kill them in some sort of black magic ritual. Death magic is very... powerful." Her mouth dropped open in surprise, "You think that the WAND is harvesting humans?" She shook her head, "The USB would have noticed that many people disappearing. Besides, it's against the Code. Killing that many humans would risk exposure, putting all USB members at risk. There's no way the WAND would risk that."

My idea concreted itself in my brain and I felt sick, but I still tried to smile, "Not if the humans weren't people who would be missed."

"What?" they all said.

"I'm thinking that one of the places," I touched the highlighted spots, "is going to be something to do with homeless people. A shelter, a rehab center, something where you have transients who could disappear and no one would be the wiser. You said they used death magic," I explained, spelling it all out, "It's a _fertility_ statue. That's got to be some kind of _life_ magic. What happens if you use a life magic statue in a death ritual?"

Jonathan looked a little nauseous. "You get a lot of dark power! But they would never do that!"

"Why not?" I asked. "I'm new to this game, but you've all been telling me how evil and bad the WAND is. I was just trying to think of something evil and bad that they could do with the statue."

The Fae and werewolf looked horrified. Clearly they had never dreamed that someone would want their precious statue for something other than its original use.

"Surely someone would notice that people were going missing!" Kethudrim protested.

I shook my head. "Not necessarily. Not if they were homeless people. And even if a couple of homeless people were reported missing, who's going to care about them? Especially if they don't have families and neighbors or anyone to really notice."

Kethudrim frowned, "You humans have an amazing ability to ignore the plight of your own kind. This is why some think it would be better to drain you all and at least allow your power to defend us against the aliens."

"That's not fair!" I said hotly. "For every human who is selfish and uncaring and oblivious, there are people who work night and day, sacrificially, to care for people in need. You can't just lump everyone into one big group. Besides," I got defensive, "you've already accepted a species that is benefitting magically off the _murder_ of another species!"

There was silence in the room for a bit.

"So," I tried some forced cheer, "How do I get the statue back?"

Megan and Cassidy chose that moment to run in, "We're hungry, Mommy!"

I looked at the clock, it was almost noon. Wow, time flies when you're talking about theft and murder. I scooped up my girls and hugged them.

"Too tight, Mommy," Cassidy complained. I let them go and started the introductions.

"Girls, this is Mr. Kethudrim, Mr. Jonathan, and Miss Cecily. Say hi."

"Hi! Come see our room!" Megan, without a shy bone in her body, was pulling on Jonathan's hand. He looked bewildered, rather like a Great Dane being accosted by a kitten.

"You can say 'no,'" I informed him.

"I don't mind," he said slowly and allowed himself to be dragged out of his chair.

I shook my head in mock sorrow, "You give in one time and it's like blood in the water. You're a goner."

"I have a doll, and a bear, and a stroller, and some puzzles..." Megan kept talking non-stop as she pulled him back to their room. I felt a twinge of worry, but decided it was okay since I was in the next room. I got out some bread from the fridge and grabbed the peanut butter and jelly.

"You want to Google the Orlando homeless shelters?" I asked Cecily, swiping the knife across the sandwich.

I pointed to the front room where the desktop was. She saluted cheerfully and headed for the computer. Kethudrim came, perched on a barstool and watched me work.

"Would you like some lunch?" I asked a trifle ungraciously. "I have peanut butter and jelly or ham and cheese."

"Ham and cheese sounds good!" he ignored my inhospitable tone and made himself useful spreading mustard and mayonnaise on slices of bread and assembling four sandwiches rather quickly.

"Got it!" Cecily yelled from the other room. I heard the sound of the printer and she came in waving a piece of paper over her head. "The Greater Orlando Homeless Shelter is located smack dab in the middle of the central shielded zone!"

Kethudrim took the paper from her and compared it to his map. He looked up with a grim smile, "Good work, Piper."

I made a face and got out the chips, "Lunch time!" I called. There were giggles, and chattering voices from the back. "Lunch time!" I yelled louder.

Soon we were all gathered around the kitchen table munching sandwiches and chips. It felt surreal. I watched Cecily pop a chip in her mouth and chew happily.

"I thought vampires only drank," I paused and looked significantly at my girls, "you know what."

She shook her head and swallowed, "We only get nourishment from," she gave the girls the same look, "you know what, but that doesn't mean we don't enjoy junk food!" She popped another chip."You can't tell me that everything _you_ eat is nutritious!"

I thought about it for a moment, "Does that mean you can eat French fries and ice cream and not gain weight?"

"Yup!"

Hmmm, maybe being a vampire had its upside. I hadn't had a French fry in _years_. (Not counting the ones I sneaked out of the girls' Happy Meals. Everyone knows that food eaten off another person's plate doesn't count.)

"So," Kethudrim interrupted my fast food fantasies, "What is the plan?"

I didn't like how all three of them looked at me like I had all the answers.

"What's the plan?" Megan echoed.

"What de pan? What de pan?" Cassidy chimed in.

I smiled at them, "First I need to call the D-E-V-I-L."

"What's that, Mommy?" Megan wanted to know while Jonathan, Kethudrim, and Cecily looked puzzled.

"A babysitter," I explained.

"Granny?" Megan asked hopefully.

"Yes!" I used my best false cheer.

"Who are you calling?" Jonathan was still confused.

I sighed, "I can't take the girls with me, so I need a babysitter."

"Ah."

"The only person I could get at this short notice will be their grandmother."

"Is that a problem?"

I made a face, "She's my mother-in-law."

"Oh."

My fingers did not want to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" came the imperious voice.

"Hi, Carolyn!" I said.

"Is someone hurt?" she sounded concerned.

"No," I was confused.

"Are the girls all right?"

"Yes," I had no idea why she was asking these questions.

"Well then," I could hear her settle back in her chair, "why are you calling me? I assumed it was an emergency since that is the only time I hear from you."

I soundlessly mouthed some rude comments at the phone, Cecily choked on her drink.

"Well, I _did_ need a favor, Carolyn."

"I'm sure you do."

I almost added in some rude hand gestures but caught myself just in time as Megan and Cassidy were watching me with big eyes.

"Would you mind watching the girls this afternoon?" I crossed my fingers.

"I suppose I could," she said slowly, "especially since I so rarely get to spend time with them."

I stuck out my tongue, "That would be great! Thank you so much!"

"When do you need me?"

I looked at Kethudrim, "When?" I repeated.

He shrugged.

"Um, maybe in an hour?" I guesstimated.

"All right. Is there anything else?" she asked.

"No," I answered humbly, I really was grateful that she would drop everything and come babysit; I only wished she made it a little easier to like her. "Thank you again!"

She hung up without saying goodbye. I closed my eyes and lightly banged my forehead with the phone several times.

"Guess what!" I asked the girls when I no longer wanted to smash something. "Granny's coming over after naptime!"

"Yay!" they cheered.

"So, what time is it now?"

"I don't want to take a nap!" Megan howled.

"No nap! No nap!" Cassidy chanted.

"Nap time!" I pointed firmly back to their room. "Megan, go sit on the potty, Cassidy let's go change your diaper."

I dragged them kicking and screaming to the back. About fifteen minutes later I finally had them down, tucked in for the fifth time, and had changed their CD twice. Now I was ready for a nap too. When I came out, Cecily and Kethudrim were bent over the map and arguing with Jonathan, so I was guessing that my nap would probably have to wait.

# Chapter Sixteen

"It would be safer to go at night!" Jonathan said forcibly.

"We don't have time to wait for dark!" Cecily shot back, "The Synod could call for a vote _tonight_ , will you vote for her _before_ she steals the statue for you?"

The two men looked at me.

"Now that I have met you," Kethudrim said solemnly, "I would trust you to complete your word." I smiled. "But," my smile faltered, "my people will not. I agree with Cecily. This must be done as soon as possible."

"Great," I said. "So, we go to Orlando. Walk into the homeless shelter, and then what?"

"We cannot walk in," Kethudrim said.

"What?" This was not sounding good.

"The witches have a shield set up," Cecily explained, "No magical creature can pass through. You'll have to go in alone."

"Just the way I like it," I said sarcastically. "How am I supposed to find this statue?"

Kethudrim looked up, "Do you have a pair of sunglasses?" he asked.

"Yes."

He looked thoughtful, "I could perhaps coat them with a spell that will allow you to see magical energies."

"Huh?"

"It will highlight magical forces to your eyes. You should be able to easily pinpoint the statue. The building is not that large."

"Yeah, but I doubt they have the statue sitting out in the lobby."

"True, but the glasses should help."

"So I go in, command the people to let me into the back, find the statue, stick it in my purse, and leave."

Jonathan looked worried, "Your powers might not work against the stronger witches. Have you been practicing with your Voice?"

"Just the last day or so, I haven't used it at all for years before that." I felt embarrassed. "I don't like it," I explained. "It's not right to use it on people, so I don't." I needed to be honest, "Except lately. Because I had to."

Kethudrim nodded, "That is wise. Becoming immortal at this time could affect the Synod's vote."

"Okay, so—" his word's hit me, " _Immortal_?" I screeched.

"Yes, didn't you know?"

I wanted to shake him, "Know what?"

Cecily stood up and edged into the kitchen with her glass in hand.

"The more you use your Voice the more you are exposing your body to magic. There is a very real chance that it could change you enough for you to become immortal." Kethudrim said this like it was a good thing.

I stared at him, jaw slack. "You're kidding right?"

He looked puzzled, "No, and while becoming immortal _now_ would prevent you from joining the USB as a human, it would not necessarily be a bad thing later on."

"Not a bad thing? Not a bad thing?" My voice went through the roof. "How is that not a bad thing? How in the world would I explain that to my husband? Oh sorry honey, you noticed that you look eighty-four while I still look in my twenties? Forget my husband, what about my kids? What about the rest of the world? If people found out, they would lock me up in a lab to study me for the rest of my life! Which would be a _very_ long time for me!"

"You might have to move around a bit to avoid detection," Kethudrim agreed, "perhaps even leave your family, but you would live forever!"

I shook my head, "You don't get it. I'm _not_ leaving my family. I don't _want_ to live forever. I want to grow old with my husband, see my grandkids, and then die at a ripe old age. I do _not_ want to be immortal!"

Jonathan slapped his hand on the table, "All of this is beside the point. You will not have the chance to become immortal _tomorrow_ if you do not steal that statue for us _today_."

Cecily peeked out of the kitchen to see if it was safe to come back.

"You knew about this!" I cornered her.

She threw her hands up in the air, "It _could_ happen, Piper. It doesn't have to! If you don't use your Voice all the time you should be fine!"

"Super. So, you tell me if I use my Voice I turn non-human and live forever, and then send me off on a mission where I will _have_ to use my Voice." I was thoroughly annoyed.

"You don't have to use your Voice," Jonathan pointed out, "you only have to if you want to succeed."

"Oh, thanks. Thanks a whole bunch for that. That was so helpful. I'm feeling tons better."

"I was just pointing out the facts," he said snidely.

"Well keep your stupid facts to yourself," I growled.

Harvey chose that moment to wake up and drag his yawning little body into the kitchen. Some watchdog he was. He stopped, sniffed Jonathan's shoe and then started a cacophony of yipping and snarling. The phone rang while I was trying to hush him so as not to wake the girls. It was my mother.

"What is going on over there?" she asked.

"Nothing, Mom," I scooped up Harvey and held him under one arm while balancing the phone between ear and shoulder. "How's California?"

"Oh, it's just wonderful! We are having such a great time! And you really need to call your sister. She says she called you a couple of days ago and you haven't called her back."

"Okay," I added it to my mental "to do" list, somewhere underneath robbing a homeless shelter and saving the human race.

"Don't just say okay and not do it!" she scolded, "you need to make more of an effort to stay in touch."

"Mom, I have a great relationship with Karen. Now Sarah..."

"That reminds me, I talked to Sarah today and she told me all about last night."

"She did?" I was suspicious.

"Yes, and you are really being too hard on her! I know I told you to keep an eye on her, but you need to cut her some slack. She is young and stubborn and needs to figure things out on her own."

"But Mom—"

"No buts! You should think about apologizing to her. It might help mend your relationship."

"Apologize!"

"Yes, oh dear, I need to run, talk to you later! Give my love to the girls! Bye!" She hung up.

I stared at the phone. Kethudrim and Jonathan were politely studying the map and pretending to ignore me. Cecily on the other hand, was looking at me with wide open, innocent eyes.

"So," she said seriously, "Are you going to apologize to your little sister?"

I threw the phone at her head. She caught it lightly in the air and placed it back on the receiver.

I sighed loudly and set Harvey back on the ground. He snuffed at Jonathan's feet and then allowed himself to be picked up and scratched behind the ears. Traitor.

Cecily gave me a weak smile, "Are we ready to go?"

I glared at her, "No, we're not ready to go yet. We're waiting on the babysitter."

"Oh." She looked around, "Maybe we should go wait in the car next door." Kethudrim and Jonathan followed her. Harvey howled after them, I didn't blame him. I wanted to howl too.

I heard Carolyn's car pull up in the driveway and braced myself.

"Hey, Carolyn!" I greeted her warmly, "Thanks so much for coming over on such short notice."

She sniffed, "Yes, it was short notice, dear." She glanced over her shoulder, "Just put that in the kitchen, you can start in there."

At first I was confused, thinking she was talking to me. Then I peered around her and saw the dark-haired, girl standing demurely behind her. She was wearing a maid's uniform with the logo "Speedy Cleaners," embroidered on the chest. I looked back at Carolyn. She wouldn't dare! She did dare.

"I know you won't mind, darling," she smiled coldly. "I thought your house could use a good cleaning. Consider it my gift to you."

I opened my mouth to tell her where she could put her gift and caught a glimpse of Cecily next door, leaning against the car and yawning. I bit my tongue and tried my best to smile.

"Okay," was the best I could come up with. "I'll be back later. The girls are still napping. Thanks."

I walked out without a backwards glance and tried to keep my head high. I felt bad leaving Harvey there in the danger zone, but maybe he would be smart and hide like Otis.

"Ready?" Jonathan asked, holding the car door for me.

"Yup. Ready as I'll ever be."

It took us longer to drive through Orlando than it took to actually get there. Jonathan was driving and he gave me a long, technical lecture about something called "ley lines" and how the intersection of two ley lines could be used to form a Zipline. I understood maybe a third of it all. What I got was that invisible threads of magic covered the globe and were all somehow connected when we used magic. And you could somehow travel between intersecting points, like we were doing between Melbourne and Orlando.

Kethudrim commandeered my sunglasses and muttered over them for a long time. Cecily took a quick nap. I just sat there getting more and more nervous. I alternately between wishing the car ride would last forever and wishing that we were already there and done with it. The suspense was killing me.

The actual event probably could as well.

I started when Kethudrim tossed my shades into my lap. "Put them on when you enter the building. Objects that are strongly infused with magic should glow."

"Magic. Glow. Right."

Jonathan pulled off onto the side of the road. "We're close." My heart sank and I wanted to hurl. "Let's go over the plan."

"What plan?" I snapped. "Seems to me like it's throw Piper to the wind and hope it all works out!"

Cecily woke up, "Whaa—?" she yawned, "Are we there?"

"Yes," Jonathan glowered at me, "We will drop you off as close as we can get to the shield, you will have to walk in, command the humans to help you, and look through the building for the statue. You will leave this in its place." He handed me a metal object the size of a grapefruit.

"What is this?" I asked.

"You don't need to know."

I crossed my arms stubbornly, "Then I'm not taking it."

"Oh quit being a baby!" Cecily exclaimed, snatching the ball and examining it. "It's a magic disrupter. It will take down the shield."

"A magic disrupter?" I was suspicious. "Is that the same thing as a _bomb_?"

Jonathan ignored my squeak and placed it back into my hands. "Here," he said, "you push there, there and there, then twist the top, and press the top and the bottom at the same time."

I held it gingerly, "Why?"

He continued to ignore my words, "You will have ten minutes before it activates. I would recommend not being in the building at that time."

"Why?" I asked again, louder this time.

"Because," he sounded exasperated, "the statue might be affected by the disruption."

"What about _me_?"

"You should be fine, you're not magical."

" _Should be_. So comforting. Tell me again why I'm going to do this?"

"Because if you don't, we will consider that your mission has failed and vote against you at the Synod meeting."

I had no response to that. I angrily started dumping things out of my purse until the disrupter thingy could fit. Cecily squeezed my shoulder.

"Let's do this," I said in my best not-scared-of-anything tone. It would have come out better if my voice hadn't cracked on the last word. I got out of the car, clutching my purse to my chest and took off.

The window rolled down behind me, "It's the other way," Jonathan called.

I turned, made a face, and started off in the other direction. So much for getting off on the right foot.

The homeless shelter was only a couple hundred yards down the road. It was a low white building on the corner of two quiet streets. Landscaping was minimal with the usual Florida palm trees and a couple oaks. The parking lot was to the north and was surprisingly large. I counted eight cars but couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

As I approached the entrance I saw a low, decorative wall with the words Greater Orlando Homeless Shelter and their logo. I'd never really given much thought to the homeless before. Oh, sure, I'd volunteered at soup kitchens, and donated clothing and food, but I'd never tried to imagine what it would be like to sleep on the streets. To have no where to go. To only have the clothes on your back and whatever you could carry.

And then, even worse, to have the very people who were supposed to be helping you doing... I really hoped I was wrong and the WAND _wasn't_ doing anything bad with the statue. Given what I had been told about the WAND, that seemed unlikely.

Suddenly the building before me took on a menacing feel. A Venus flytrap, luring in unsuspecting victims.

I had to force myself to touch the front door. It opened into a cool, dark waiting room, and for a moment I imagined being swallowed by the jaws of death. I gave myself a good shake and tried to get a grip. The place felt evil. Slippery, slimy, dark, and oppressive. All the more reason to do my job and then get out.

The girl at the reception desk looked up and smiled as I crossed the threshold. "Hello," she said softly, like we were in a library. "You're a bit early for check-in, but you can sign in and wait if you like."

I made it up to the counter without my legs giving way and picked up the pen. There were three people signed in before me. I glanced over my shoulder at the waiting room and saw a man, sitting alone, and a mother with a little boy. The child was crying and his mother was angrily swiping at his face with a tissue and hissing at him to "get it together."

The man was staring at the wall with glassy, drugged out eyes. He had a dirty beard, filthy clothes, and a large hole in the toe of his heavy boots.

"Have you been here before?" The receptionist drew my attention back to the counter.

"No," I croaked, then cleared my throat. "Umm, is that okay?"

"Sure," she smiled again, the exact same smile. It stopped at her lips. "Just sign in please."

I picked up the pen and started writing a "P" before rethinking. I changed mid-word and wrote "Penny Wolf." It was the first thing that came to mind.

The girl looked down and smiled that smile again, it was beginning to get creepy. "Do you have a phone number, Ms. Wolf?" she had to crane her head around to read my name.

Since she obviously was thinking that I was homeless, I thought that a rather odd question. Did homeless people _have_ phones? Cell phones maybe? I decided to play it safe.

"No, I don't," I said. I placed the pen carefully down in the middle of the clipboard and turned to sit down.

"Ms. Wolf?" I turned back, "Would you mind filling out this paperwork?" she held out another clipboard with a stack of paper on top. I took it without a word and sat down. A plan of sorts was starting to form in my brain. First thing was to get rid of any innocent bystanders. Then I would tackle little Miss Smiles and her murdering witch friends.

# Chapter Seventeen

I pretended to fill in the form on my lap while glancing surreptitiously at the other three people in the room. I saw the receptionist, out of the corner of my eye, pick up the phone, speak briefly, and then exit through a door to the back. Perfect.

The little boy was slumped over in his chair, his short legs not reaching the ground. He sniffed occasionally and wiped his face on his arm. I managed to make eye contact and smiled. He gave me a timid grin in return.

"Hi!" I said brightly.

Every eye in the waiting room turned to me. I had no idea what the proper demeanor for a homeless person was. Apparently I should have sat there and pretended to be alone in my own little world. Normally I would have been dreadfully embarrassed. I don't like drawing attention to myself. But in this situation it was all part of the plan.

"So, have you been here before?" I asked, still sounding chipper.

The boy studied me, perhaps not used to adults taking an interest in him. He burped loudly and laughed.

"Say excuse me!" his mother said scolded him angrily.

"Oh, I don't mind," I smiled, wishing she would see the hurt in his eyes. "How old is your son?"

"That is none of your business!" She looked defensive.

"I know," I said. "I just thought maybe he would like a snack. I know my kids like to have a snack right about not." I fumbled in my purse, making sure that the "magical disrupter" stayed hidden.

"We don't need your charity," the woman sneered.

"Oh," I blinked. "I wasn't trying to be rude or condescending. I just thought he might like a granola bar."

"I'll take that granola bar," the grimy man spoke, not looking at me.

"Uh," I said. "I really was offering it to the little guy here."

The boy looked up at his mother, hopeful.

"No," she said sharply. She pulled him to his feet. "We'll come back later," she said, shooting me an evil glare.

"I was just trying to be nice!" I protested, sorry that I had offended her, but happy that she was taking her son out of the danger zone.

"Go be a Good Samaritan somewhere else," she scowled and dragged her son out the door.

I sighed.

"I'll still take that granola bar," the homeless man said.

I turned to look at him. He did look hungry.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "And I think maybe you should go wait somewhere else too."

He gave me a wise look. "Ah," he said. "Cops, eh?"

"Huh?" I asked.

"Now don't worry about me," he winked. "I won't give you away. 'bout time someone looked into the place."

"Why?"

He nodded sagely. "Something off here. Too many people taking off without saying goodbye. Never comin' back. I reckon maybe they're _not_ taking off." He winked at me again. "Not takin' off at all."

I gave him a suspicious frown. "Then why are _you_ here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Don't much care no more," he said. "Doc says I ain't got much longer." He coughed violently. "And the grubs good."

I wished I had more than a granola bar to give him.

"All the same," I said, "I think maybe you should go somewhere else tonight." I pulled out my wallet and tried to hand him a ten dollar bill.

"Nah," he said with a sigh. "I don't need your money. You go ahead and do what you gotta do. Just keep us safe."

He picked up a battered trash bag and slowly limped out the door. I hoped that wherever he wound up was safer than here.

The bell quit jingling and I looked around the empty room. It was now or never. I really wanted to run out that door, but it wasn't a long term solution. I _had_ to do this.

I tiptoed towards the door the receptionist had exited through and gently opened it a crack. A long hallway ran the length of the building, empty for the moment.

I took a deep breath and ducked through the door, pulling it silently shut behind me. There were several closed doors leading off the hallway and I pressed my ear to the first one. I didn't hear anyone talking or moving around so I carefully turned the knob and ducked inside.

It was a small office with a desk and two chairs. A fake fichus tree adorned one corner and a tinkling water fountain sat on a small table beside it. Except for the sound of falling water, the room was quiet.

I walked slowly into the room getting more nervous with every passing second. Something was not right. The room, which had looked so peaceful and bland at first, was beginning to take on a menacing feel. The walls seemed to lean in on the top, threatening to crush me. The sound of the waterfall began to grate on my ears. I kept turning my head to see the person I _knew_ was standing right behind me.

"Get a grip, Piper," I muttered. There was no reason why this room should feel intimidating. It was just like hundreds of other offices I had been in. I glared at the obnoxious waterfall, and unplugged it. It kept running. If anything, louder than before.

"Now that's just silly," I said aloud, and picked it carefully up to look for the batteries. The bottom was completely smooth. There was no compartment for batteries. The thing kept pouring water over the rocks.

I frowned at it. I was not going to be cowed by a stupid parlor trick. I walked around to the other side of the desk, opened a drawer and looked inside. It was filled with neat stacks of blank forms and brochures. No hideously ugly statue.

Oh well. I smiled and serenely poured the fountain into the drawer. There was a lot of water. It filled the drawer and began to run over the sides. I sighed in exasperation. This was too much.

They clearly knew I was here. I marched over to the door and tried to yank it open. It refused to even rattle on the hinges. It was as if someone had screwed a door knob onto a brick wall.

"Okay," I yelled at the ceiling, "You made your point. You obviously know who I am. Come out and let's talk." I poured as much power as I could into the command.

Nothing happened.

Hmm. I sat down on one of the chairs and made a face. This was not going according to plan. I fingered my purse on my lap and tried to think. A squishing sound at my feet made me look down. The carpet was now soaked through and beginning to puddle in places. Great. I considered righting the fountain but decided that would look like giving up. I left it upside down in the drawer.

Movement in the corner of the room caught my eye and I bit back a gasp. The whole side wall was gone. A forest of fake fichus trees now stretched out before my eyes. I was definitely being played with. The funny thing was I wasn't scared yet. I was mad. Hopping mad. They weren't taking me seriously and I had a very serious job to do.

A gush of water exploded out of the desk and into the air showering me with droplets.

"Fine," I said aloud, "You want me to take off into the scary woods. We'll play this your way, for now."

I stood up, still holding my purse tight and started to push my way through the plastic branches. They were so close together it was hard to see more than a couple feet in any direction. I walked, wiggled, and climbed for several minutes, then looked back. I could no longer see the room I had just left. Everything looked exactly the same in all directions.

Once, when I was a little girl, I had gone hiking in the woods with my family. Somehow I got separated from them. I think I stopped to tie my shoe or something, and when I looked up they were gone. It was the most terrifying moment of my life. I turned all around, calling frantically, and then couldn't remember which way I had been going. I started to run, yelling out for my dad, tripping over roots and fallen branches, and ripping a huge hole in the knee of my pants.

I remembered the throbbing pain from my knee coupled with the crippling grip of fear in my chest. I had felt like I couldn't breathe. My vision had seemed to shrink around the edges and I had whipped my head around in circles, certain that the forest monsters were closing in on me.

I could feel that same fear again. My chest was tight and I started to gasp for breath. I forced myself to take another step and felt a searing pain go through my leg. When I looked down I saw my bloody knee peeking through the torn edges of my pants. I choked back a sob. Waves of terror were bombarding me and I sank to the bottom of a tree and huddled in as small a ball as I could make.

All I wanted to do was go home. This was too much for me. Who could fight against magic? I knew it couldn't be real, but it _felt_ real, and in that moment I knew that what happens in your brain is _much_ more powerful than what happens to your body. I felt a tear run down my cheek.

Just like in the forest of my childhood, I knew, without a doubt, that I had been intentionally abandoned. Cecily, Kethudrim, Jonathan – they had led me here to die. They didn't care about me. They didn't care about humans. They were using me for their own schemes and would throw me to the wolves when they were done. Perhaps even literally. What was the point? I would never see my kids again. Maybe it was better that way. I was a horrible mother and incapable of protecting my children.

In a few days, humans would be openly hunted by all magical creatures. I would have to watch my baby girls become an appetizer for a vampire or werewolf. Or even worse, they would be kept like animals and drained slowly over time, never knowing freedom or their mother's love.

More tears ran down my face. I should have been with my children. Instead, here I was, traipsing around during the last minutes we would ever have together. The hours that I had wasted today! I would never get them back. The last loving face my children would see would be their grandmother's. I would never get to hold them again.

I felt despair wash over me and could suddenly take it no more. I could not face another minute in this hell of a life. I could not wait and see the destruction of everything I loved. It was all my fault. If only I had been smarter, faster, more powerful, perhaps I could have saved my family, but I was a failure and failures do not deserve to live.

Now that I knew what I had to do, I felt calmer. It would all be over soon and then the pain would be gone. I had a pocket knife in my purse. All I had to do was cut the veins in my wrists and then wait for peace. It was such a perfect solution; I wondered why I hadn't thought of it earlier.

I dug around in my purse looking for the knife. It must have slid to the bottom under the hodge-podge of things that collect in any woman's purse. I pulled out the magic disrupter, some diapers, a travel box of wipes, spare toddler underwear, a tube of Balmex, a fingernail file, some old receipts, my sunglasses, an old set of house keys... I stopped. Something had triggered a memory. I ran my hand lightly over the objects now littering the ground around me.

When I touched my sunglasses an electric shock went up my arm. The sunglasses! I had forgotten. I stared at them, slack jawed. How could I have been so _stupid_? I picked them up with shaking hands and slid them on my face. For a moment I was afraid that I had gone blind, but then I realized that I had my eyes squeezed shut. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

I was sitting on the floor in the middle of the same room I had started in. The fountain was on the table, unplugged and quiet. The floor was dry and only one fichus tree was in the corner. I took a deep sobbing breath. I had come so close to killing myself.

I had thought I was angry before; that was mere annoyance compared to what I felt now. Before, I had felt rather guilty for stealing something from _anyone_ , even if they might be doing something horrible, but now I had every intention of setting off that magic disrupter as soon as I laid hands on the statue, and I hoped it laid the smack down on every single witch in the building!

I cautiously opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was still empty. The sunglasses made everything a trifle dark, but also highlighted odd strands of colored lights running through the air. I tilted the glasses down to peek over them. No lights. Must be something magical. I snickered to myself. I couldn't believe I just had that as a serious thought. Magical lights indeed. I sobered up instantly. I was in way over my little human head. This stuff was real and obviously capable of causing permanent physical damage.

I focused on the brightest trail of light. It pulsed with yellow, red, and orange sparkles tinged with black. Don't ask me how light can be black, but that's how it looked through my glasses. I followed it down the hallway and past several closed doors. It disappeared through a door on the left and I tried the handle slowly. It wasn't locked and swung back lightly under my touch. I don't know what I was expecting, but definitely something grander than a walk-in cleaning closet.

The light snaked past a collection of brooms, mops, buckets, shelves of various cleaning supplies, and a vacuum or two. I stepped gingerly over the buckets on the floor and followed the light to the back of the closet. There, on the back shelf, sat the ugliest statue I had ever seen. Well, not entirely true. I had seen it before, in the photo. If possible, it was even uglier in person. The sparkling lights were emanating from the statue but seemed to be trapped by the black lights. The black surrounded the statue like some sort of dripping, sentient cloud.

The last thing in the world I wanted to do was reach my hand through that cloud and touch the statue. Hey, even with no lights, the carving was _not_ a thing of beauty. I figured it might be better if I took off my magic shades. The statue was still butt ugly, but at least that was all I could see. I stuck the sunglasses in my purse and set it down on a nearby shelf, (trying to ignore the fact that all of the cleaning bottles had to do with bloodstain removal. I guess that answered any questions about whether the WAND was engaging in criminal activity) took a deep breath, and reached cautiously forward until my fingers touched the statue.

Nothing happened. I didn't feel cold, or hot, or faint, or suddenly have the urge to run screaming down the hallway. Okay. Not so bad. I gripped the hideous carving and lifted it off the shelf. It was heavier than I thought and my hand dipped a bit in the air. Still nothing happened.

I got a firmer grip with two hands and backed out the door. No alarms. No screaming. Nothing. This was going to be easier than I thought. Here I was scared to death of these people because of the word "witch," and really it was just a walk in the park! Granted, the whole forest in an office was a little freaky, but if that was the best they could do! Ha! I laugh in the face of danger!

I took one step down the hallway before my head exploded in a ball of fire and everything went black.

# Chapter Eighteen

So, there I was, back in the storage closet, surrounded by bloodstain cleaners and dirty mops, and handcuffed tightly to one of the metal shelves. Fantastic. Some superhero I was. Why couldn't I have had a _useful_ ability? Like laser vision, or super-human strength? I had seen this one show on TV where the lady had a bracelet that turned into a bullet-deflecting gauntlet that shot out a huge sword when she needed to decapitate some bad guys. That would be useful right about now.

"Where's my cool bracelet?" I shouted to no one in particular. At least, I hoped there was no one in here with me, because the Invisibility power would really freak me out. If bottles started flying off the shelves I was out of here. Except I was obviously not going anywhere.

I gave the shelf a shake to test its strength. If it had been the shelves _I_ had put together in my garage they would have fallen down on the first shake. That's true craftsmanship for you. It's also what you get when you buy the cheapest shelves at Walmart instead of shelling out the big bucks. Comforting now to know, were I ever to find myself knocked unconscious and handcuffed to my garage shelves, I could probably escape. I say "probably" because, once again, I didn't get super-human strength in the superpowers lottery.

I stared at the handcuffs for a while. It kind of freaked me out to think that someone had been touching me, man-handling me, while I was unconscious. That and the thought that being handcuffed in a closet probably didn't mean they just wanted to talk with me. It wasn't looking too good. Getting involved in all this magic stuff was obviously a bad idea. I had no idea what I was up against, and to be quite honest, I think I would rather not know. Ignorance is bliss and all that.

I started to worry about my kids again. What would they do without a mommy? Who would watch them? Kiss them? Tuck them in at night and tell them stories?

Poor Mark! How in the world would he manage being a single parent? He would most likely remarry. After a few years of grieving for me, of course. Some beautiful younger woman would come along who would love my children like her own. She would have to be younger and more beautiful because nothing else would cause Mark to get over his memories of me.

She would probably be thinner too. If she didn't have kids of her own then she wouldn't have the stretch marks and slightly sagging tummy skin that I pretended I didn't care about.

How dare he! Here I was, risking my life for the good of all mankind and he was getting ready to cheat on me with a younger, hotter woman! The nerve of the man! And it's not like I was an old hag either! I was still fairly attractive! Granted, I was a little heavier than when we first met, but those pounds were from giving birth to his children! You can't expect a woman to blow up to the size of a beached whale, push a watermelon out of her uterus, and then instantly pop back to collegiate thinness! I was _working_ on it, and I thought I was looking rather good. The other day in the grocery store I could have sworn a man was checking out my butt. It could have had something to do with the Hello Kitty sticker I found later stuck to my jeans, but I doubt it. My butt is pretty hot.

I sat and stewed for a while. You give the best years of your life to a man. Bear his children, clean his house, pick up his dirty underwear, and what do you get for it? The instant you're dead he starts looking for someone else. Not even cold in my grave and I could see it happening. Well. I gave myself a mental shake and gave the metal shelves another experimental tug. I was not going to lie down and let this happen. I was going to get home somehow and tell Mark exactly what I thought of him.

"I want to hold your haaand!" the Beatles blared into the enclosed space. I jumped in the air, hit the end of the handcuffs, and knocked half the bottles off the shelf. My heart was pounding furiously in my throat and I snapped my head around trying to see where the sound was coming from. Oh. My purse. It was still on the back shelf where I had placed it to have both hands free for the statue. I had totally forgotten all about it and if I hadn't gotten knocked on the head I would have left it here. That might have eventually clued the witches in to who had stolen their little treasure. Wow. Good thing they hadn't found it. I rolled my eyes. James Bond I am not.

I stretched as far as I could, trying to snag the handle of my purse. Too far away. The Beatles quit singing and my phone started that annoying thirty second beeping, designed to drive you crazy until you check your messages. I stretched again. My arms hadn't grown any longer in the last five seconds. I decided to try my feet instead. I kicked off my flip-flops and hopped on one foot closer to the purse. I balanced with one hand on the shelf in front of me and leaned out with my other leg. My toes just brushed the side of the purse. I wiggled and twisted with my planted foot until I felt like I was doing a split. My foot hooked the purse strap and I tried to slowly bring it towards me.

My bottom foot slid out from under me, my other leg flew up in the air, and I jerked painfully against the handcuffs and smashed face first back into my shelf. "Ouch" was an understatement. The good news though was that the purse had somehow dropped within arm's reach. I rubbed my nose and wiggled it a bit to see if anything was broken. It hurt, a lot, but I didn't hear any cartilage shifting about. Not that I would know what broken cartilage sounded like, but I'd read somewhere that that's how you tell. My wrist was starting to look a bit mangled, like a bad rug burn or something. All my fingers worked, so, once again, I assumed that nothing was broken.

Done checking for broken bones, I snatched up my purse in triumph. Aha! Now I could... I stopped. What could I do? I didn't have Cecily's number programmed in my phone. I didn't even know Kethudrim's or Jonathan's. Do elves and werewolves even carry cell phones? I could call Mark and explain that I had been lying to him for years and could he please come rescue me from a coven of evil witches.

Ha.

Or I could just tell him that I had been knocked over the head and chained up in a closet, but he might wonder what I was doing at a homeless shelter. Would he believe I was volunteering?

I could call the police. My memory might not be the best but I could remember how to dial 911. The only problem _there_ was that it would definitely get back to Mark sometime and there I would be, having to explain again. Not to mention the whole "intent to steal" and "breaking and entering."

I made a face and yelped. My nose was not quite up to facial contortions yet.

My difficulty was that I couldn't really work up the proper amount of fear. If I _really_ thought that I was in danger of imminent death, I would call everyone I knew for help. I just couldn't believe that these witches meant to kill me. Stupid maybe, but that's how I felt. This was America. People just don't go around kidnapping and murdering here. Ok, so, some people do, watch the news. But they are usually misfit psychotics, not a non-profit organization. Besides, I often daydreamed about being a superhero, or a bounty hunter, or a cool-headed person who conquered impossible situations. Now was my chance. I could handle this.

Who was I kidding? I was a stay-at-home mother of two. The only impossible situation I ever faced was grocery shopping with screaming toddlers. And cool-headed would not exactly be the adjective I would use to describe myself at those times. I sighed and almost dialed Mark's number.

I couldn't do it. He would never understand. He would be hurt and betrayed. What if he left me? Or had me committed somewhere? I _owed_ it to him to keep him in the dark. It was really for his own good, because I loved him.

I started digging through my purse again. The contents hadn't changed from earlier. No set of lock picks, or handcuff keys. No paper clips or bobby pins, not that I would know how to pick a lock with them even if I had them. I had my magic glasses which, so far, had been _incredibly_ helpful. Not. Maybe if they could change into a fire-breathing dragon I would feel differently about them. I also had the disrupter.

Hmm. What had they actually said about it? Would it work like a bomb and blow up everything or did it just affect magic? Cecily and company had to be getting worried about me. They couldn't get in to rescue me because of the shield. But if I _disrupted_ the shield... Of course, I might also blow myself up, which would be less than ideal. But it hadn't sounded like that sort of bomb. This could be a _genius_ idea!

I ignored the little voice in the back of my head that went off like a fire alarm every time I catalogued something as a "genius idea." What did it know? I _could_ have a genius idea one day, and it could actually turn out to _be_ a genius idea. What better time than the present? If I remembered correctly, this little beauty in my hands – I was becoming fonder of it by the minute — when activated would take down the magic shield and allow the cavalry to come galloping over the horizon for a heroic, just-in-the-nick-of-time rescue. Perfect! Then they could retrieve the statue themselves, which was hopefully still in the building somewhere.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to visualize the steps that Jonathan had showed me in the car. "Hmm, twist here, push there, twist the top, and... then push the top and bottom together! Aha!"

I held the ball away from me and squinted my eyes. The distance and the squinting was to protect me from the magic blast.

Nothing happened. Oh duh. There was something about a ten minute countdown so I could get the statue safely out of the building so its "magic powers" would not be harmed. Whoops. Well, this was the only way either one of us was getting out of the building that I could see; call it adapting orders in the field. I'm sure the Armed Forces have to do it all the time.

Now all I had to do was wait. The thing was, I'm not very good at waiting. In fact, I _hate_ waiting. I would rather drive ten extra hours in a car than have to sit and wait in an airport. I prefer microwave meals to actual cooking. Why spend an hour cooking a meal that will be eaten in less than fifteen minutes?

Speaking of food, I was hungry. I dug around in my purse and came up with a sticky, melted cough drop and what used to be a breakfast bar but was now a bag full of crumbs. I ate both.

Surely ten minutes had passed! Nope. Only three. I was going to die of boredom. Handcuffed in a witch's broom closet, caught red-handed stealing, fate uncertain, and I was going to die of boredom before anything exciting happened.

Somehow I made it through the next seven minutes. I did keep checking the bomb. No blinking lights. No ticking sounds. No voice of Sigourney Weaver saying "Self destruct in..." Very disappointing. I was expecting a little more drama from a magical bomb. If this was the movies it would have had all three: blinking lights, annoying ticking _and_ a calm computer voice counting down to destruction.

Finally ten minutes was up. Then eleven. Then twelve. Hmmm. Things were not looking so swell. Perhaps my non-magical self was incapable of feeling a blast of magic. Or, far more likely, I had screwed it up somehow.

This depressing thought had just occurred to me when the closet door opened. I jumped as high in surprise as a person can who is handcuffed to a shelf and managed to drop the disrupter, which rolled out of sight behind some buckets. Oh well, there went using it as a threat. "Let me go or I shall destroy your magic shield with this disrupter that I have already tried to activate and can't figure out how it works!" As threats go it probably wasn't that effective. Much better that the evidence of my attempted attack was now hidden.

All of this went quickly through my head while I squinted into the brighter light from the hallway which was silhouetting a man standing in the doorway. He stepped into the closet which suddenly felt a _whole_ lot smaller. He was big, really big, and rather on the hairy side as well.

"Hi," I tried nervously, for starters. "I'm really sorry. I think there's been a big mistake. If you could just let me go I promise never to bother you again."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and started to unlock my handcuffs.

I couldn't help myself. It struck me as funny. It was either giggle or scream and my mouth started to babble on its own. "Really? Keys? Can't you just, like, wave your hand and unlock them? What happened to your magical witch powers?"

He looked me in the eyes for the first time. There was a coldness there like I have never seen before. I felt less than a person, less than an object. I was _nothing_ to this man. If anything he was puzzled that I was even speaking to him. Like an ant on the sidewalk begging you not to step on it. Odd, but hardly worth your time. My mouth snapped shut; I didn't feel like giggling any longer.

If I had been thinking of breaking free and making a dash for the front door, I gave it up as soon as his hand clamped on my arm. "Clamped" being the operative word. I could feel my arm bones creaking under the pressure and I swear my fingers were turning blue. That and the fact that he made no allowance for our height difference and half dragged, half carried me out of the closet, made me miss most of our trip down the hallway. I was too busy trying to keep my feet somewhat under me and not whimper from the pain of my arm being torn out of socket.

Totally on accident, I stumbled and got my legs tangled up with my captor's. We both went down with a crash, me, unfortunately, underneath. All the air was crushed from my lungs and, once again, I missed a prime escape opportunity. Maybe if I had planned it I would have been prepared for the stumble and landed on top. At the moment I was merely thankful that I hadn't torn my arm off in the fall.

We lay there for a couple seconds longer than I thought absolutely necessary.

"Look, you overgrown Wookie!" I hissed, "If you're thinking about coping a feel I'm going to knee you so hard in the groin that—" my imagination misfired at that point, but I was saved from the embarrassment of not being able to come up with a witty insult by the sight of a new pair of feet inches from my nose.

"Trouble, Charles?" a voice drawled with obvious sarcasm. There was no answer from my human blanket.

"Charles?" the voice asked again with a little more concern and the weight was rolled off of me.

I gasped my first full breath in what felt like forever and struggled to my feet. "Charles" was conscious, but decidedly dazed, with a trickle of blood running down the side of his face that matched a red smear on the wall. Dang! I was better than I knew! Too bad I had only succeeded in making him angry. Now was a trifle late to remember that you are always supposed to let the Wookie win.

I rubbed my arm and turned my attention to the newcomer. Button down short-sleeve shirt, khaki pants, brown loafers with, ugh, black socks and thick coke-bottle glasses. In a word: Nerd. He helped the Wookie to his feet and just managed to protect me from being pummeled. Apparently Charles did not harbor warm feelings towards me.

"Stop it, Charles!" the Nerd grunted, using all of his 150 pounds to push the big man back up against the wall. "You'll get your chance in a minute."

I suddenly disliked the Nerd as much as I did the Wookie. I decided to try Outraged British Nobility with the added benefit of the Voice. Even without my ability it would often quell rude salesclerks and obnoxious checkout ladies.

"Just What do you Think you are Doing? I have Never been so Insulted in my life! I Demand that you release me At Once and Beg me Not to take this matter up with the Police! Of all the Rude, Insufferable, Boorish, Ill-mannered, Nincompoops I have Ever—"

The Nerd made a sketching motion with his fingers and mumbled " _Confuto_."

I broke off mid-sentence with a croak. I tried to clear my throat, no sound. I tried to scream, still no sound. Not good. I had one card up my sleeve and apparently I was not going to get a chance to use it.

The Wookie stared at me for a minute. "I guess we should let her go..." he trailed off as the Nerd snarled at him.

"Guard your mind, you idiot!" He turned on me, "No more of that now. I would advise you not to try it again. Most of us do not take kindly to having our minds coerced."

Since I could not retort I did the next most mature thing and stuck my tongue out at him. He casually backhanded me across the face with enough force to slam my head into the wall. I bit through my cheek and felt blood trickle down my chin.

Eyes welling with tears, I stared at him in disbelief. No man had _ever_ laid a hand on me in my entire life. It just wasn't done in polite circles. Being a girl was supposed to protect you from physical violence. As the Nerd met my gaze with an emotionless stare I realized that the rules I thought applied in life were utterly useless here. So far I had been acting like everything was one big game. If I wanted to survive I was going to have to take my play to a whole new level.

My eyes narrowed in hatred. I had never felt such antipathy for a human being before. If I got the chance, I would kill him. Okay. So I couldn't actually kill him. But I would definitely let him know that he was not my favorite person! I kept that thought in my head as the Wookie grabbed up my arm again and continued the frog march down the hallway.

We entered a large room where folding cots were stacked in rows against the wall. Metal folding chairs were arranged in a circle around a folding table covered with a black cloth. Short, fat candles provided the only light, but they covered the ground in the middle of the circle with only a narrow path leading to and around the table.

Every chair was occupied and every head turned to look at us as we entered. No one had green skin, or a long warty nose, or even a black witch's hat. They all looked like normal, everyday people. I don't know what it was, but there was something else in the room. There was no mistaking this as a PTA meeting. The darkness outside the center candles seemed thick and almost gooey. I felt evil in the room. Pure, unadulterated, life-hating, evil.

Then a figure stepped forward from the circle. Everyone else was wearing ordinary street clothes, but this woman was dressed in a hooded black robe. "Welcome, Piper," she said sweetly, "We've been waiting for you."

# Chapter Nineteen

"I highly doubt that," I snorted, "if you _were,_ you wouldn't have made me wait forever in a closet while you ran out to JoAnn Fabrics to buy a bunch of candles."

Well, that's what I tried to say. What really came out was more of a "mmph pffl rrmp kunnmp."

The pseudo-priestess frowned and did another finger sketchy thing in the air.

" _Eximo_!" she intoned with great sincerity.

I opened my mouth to try out the Voice again and was promptly smothered by a large Wookie hand.

"You have been given your speech back in order to answer a few important questions," the priestess said calmly. "Abuse this privilege and it shall be taken from you."

"Thus shall it be!" chanted all the seated witches.

I snorted with laughter. I couldn't help it. It was just too BSG.

"So say we all!" I echoed when the hand was dropped from my face. This earned me another backhand to the face. This time from the priestess. I guess she didn't like being mocked. But then, who does?

"You hit like a girl," I informed her seriously, after righting myself and running my tongue around my teeth to make sure they were all still there. A girl UFC fighter, but a girl none the less. It might have been a more impressive display of disdain if the blow hadn't half knocked me off my feet. Anyway, it's the thought that counts and mine were murderous.

"Bring her to the altar," the priestess commanded the Wookie and regally led the way through the candles.

I prayed valiantly that her robe would brush one and catch on fire, but no such luck. Now that I was closer to the table I saw the ugly little fertility statue sitting in the center. I had a hard time not staring at the boobs. I really hoped mine didn't look that huge and saggy when I was done having children. Don't worry, another part of my brain said, you probably won't live through this anyway.

Great. Just great.

"Watch and learn, Piper Cavanaugh," the priestess hissed. "See how great our power truly is and quail before its might."

I stared at her. Could she be for real? I mean, seriously, I was truly scared here. I was in a dark room, kidnapped by a bunch of witches, who had banged me up a bit and didn't seem to have my best interest or the best interest of humanity in mind. But really, if she didn't stop talking like a comic book villain I was going to start laughing again. Nervous laughter to be sure, but laughter all the same.

"Power and might is the whole of the Law!" she cried, and, like a C horror movie the room responded,

"Blood is the law, blood under will!"

What did that even _mean_? Did they realize how stupid they sounded? While I endeavored to keep a straight face, she pulled a large curved knife out of a sheath hanging at her waist. It was decorated with skulls and fake rubies but the blade looked sharp and serviceable. "Bring the sacrifice!" she called loudly.

"Thus shall it be!" the room chanted again. They were a little off this time. Apparently some of them had missed the chant cue and stumbled in a little late. They'd have to work on it.

The Nerd approached the table followed by two burly men. They were leading the homeless man I had met earlier in the waiting room. He was bound hand and foot, a look of resigned acceptance on his face.

The Priestess stepped forward and calmly sliced the knife through the man's throat. He dropped to his knees without making a sound, blood spurting from the gash. He was dead within seconds.

I vomited up my lunch. This was all my fault. I never should have come here. Hot tears ran down my face. The taste of salt and bile stung my nose. I sobbed and sank down to one knee by the table still gagging.

The Priestess was looking down on me with a half smile as the men lifted the body and arranged it on the table. She evidently found this amusing. Maybe she hadn't noticed the bottom front of her robe yet. I found myself wishing that I had aimed higher. I wanted to think about anything except what was being placed on the table. It was hard to believe that one moment someone could be alive and well and the next be just a hollow shell, nobody home.

She took the knife and cut off a piece of flesh as casually as you would carve a turkey. She held it high in the air, blood dripping down her arm, and chanted, " _Ex vita adveho nex_!"

"From life comes death!" answered all the witches, rising to their feet.

" _Ex nex adveho vox_!"

"From death comes power!"

" _Ex vox adveho immortalis_!"

"From power comes immortality!" They all thrust their left hand into the air making a symbol with their fingers.

The Priestess took the blood that had pooled in her hand and rubbed it on the breasts of the statue. The room grew darker and colder and I felt as if the oxygen had turned thick in my lungs. I spat on the ground and tried to wipe out the inside of my mouth with the shoulder of my shirt. I had given up trying to stop the tears from pouring down my face.

My eyes locked on the knife the Priestess had laid carelessly on the table. She was now holding blood cupped in both hands and dripping it over the statue. I tracked in my mind the movements it would take to grab the knife and plunge it deeply into her chest. I figured I might just have enough time to make sure she was dead before someone tackled me.

I'm ashamed to say that I didn't do it. It _felt_ like the right thing to do. It probably _was_ the right thing to do, but I had serious doubts about my ability to succeed.

I sagged back to the floor. I couldn't do it. I still wanted to get out of this and go back to my normal life. I recognized that killing the horrid woman in front of me would accomplish very little at very high cost. I would wait and try to fight another way. A moment later I was deeply regretting that decision.

The Wookie grabbed both my arms and twisted them painfully behind my back. I was yanked up to my feet and half bent over the table. My face was uncomfortably close to the blood smeared statue and my shoulder was brushing the dead man's shoe.

The Priestess raised the knife again and continued her chant.

"Maiden, we call thee!"

" _Nos dico vos_!" echoed the room.

"Mother, we entreat thee!"

" _Nos obtestor vos_!"

"Crone, we beseech thee!"

" _Nos queso vos_!" They were growing in volume with every chant.

"Dhu'l Karnain! We summon you!"

" _Nos postulo vos_!!"

I had an awkward view, head half pressed into the table, candles glaring in my eyes, but if they were going for creepy, bulgy-eyed fanaticism they were right on target.

They repeated the last chant ad nauseum. " _Nos postulo vos! Nos postulo vos! Nos postulo vos_!"

The Priestess made a large slashing motion with her arms and everyone was silent except for one witch in the back who was daydreaming or something and started on another " _Nos_ —" before being elbowed and shushed by the witches next to her. The Priestess frowned in that general direction but didn't let it distract her from her own pageantry.

"They have come!" she bellowed in round tones.

I was getting a serious crick in my neck trying to not let my face touch the blood spilled on the table cloth. Funny how even in the midst of all this I could worry about a pain in my neck. It beat worrying about the poor dead man and wondering what I could have done differently to save his life.

" _Laus quattuor_!" the room bellowed back.

The Priestess raised her stained hands in the air. "Oh great ones!" she bellowed again. They were apparently hard of hearing. "We beseech thy mighty powers! We give thee the use of this frail body and ask only that thou bestow its small powers on us to use in thy mighty service!" With that she picked up the knife again.

The thees and thous confused me for a moment but, when I caught on to the meaning, I started struggling in earnest. The slimy, little witches planned on _killing_ me!

I caught the Wookie a good kick in the crotch and broke free for a moment before the Nerd jumped in and pinned me back on the table, this time almost face to face with the homeless man.

The Wookie grabbed my hair and wrenched my head back with a little more force than I thought totally necessary. Perhaps he was still angry with me.

The knife grew large in my peripheral vision. No way was this happening! I bucked and fought but was completely immobilized.

"Take this offering!" the Priestess roared in my ear, "Grant us, thy humble servants, the powers of this infidel."

The knife grew larger. I felt the metal touch my throat, surprisingly still warm and wet from its previous sacrifice. I saw the hand gripping the knife clench in preparation for a violent slash.

I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about my family. "God, please take care of my husband and children," I prayed.

There wasn't time to think anything else. The knife parted my skin like tissue paper and blood ran down my neck.

That was when the magic disrupter I had activated in the closet finally decided to explode.

# Chapter Twenty

My eyes still held shut, I heard several loud thuds and felt the table tremble beneath me. The pressure holding my arms up behind my back was suddenly gone. I counted off several seconds in my head.

Ok. I was either not dead, or heaven was a lot weirder than I thought it would be. I cracked an eye open and looked around. Definitely not dead. I was still at the homeless shelter. Still surrounded by candles and witches. Only difference now was that they were all passed out on the floor (The witches, not the candles).

I groped frantically at my throat and felt the blood already clotting along the shallow slice. The Priestess lay at my feet, nerveless fingers still clutching the knife. She must have cut me as she fell. My vision went black around the edges and I grabbed the table to keep from falling when I realized how close I had come to dying.

I kicked the knife as far away as possible. Then I kicked the Priestess. That felt so good I kicked the Nerd and the Wookie in the groin a couple of times for good measure.

"Have fun waking up to _that_ , you Satan worshipping jerks!" I yelled.

"Actually they are duo-theistic and worship the Triple Goddess and the Horned God," came a voice from behind me.

I was kind of expecting them to show up so I didn't even jump a little. Cecily, Jonathan, and Kethudrim stood in the doorway. Cecily was smiling; Jonathan and Kethudrim had identical pained expressions on their faces. It could have had something to do with the fact that they had just witnessed me pummeling another guy's sensitive area. Too bad. The witches were lucky that I didn't want to touch the bloody knife. Damage could be a lot more permanent.

I gulped down the tears that were beginning to run down my cheeks again and gently closed the sightless eyes of the man on the table.

"They killed him," I whispered sadly.

Cecily squeezed my shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done," she said gently.

"I just wish... I should have been able to stop them," I said forlornly.

"At least you're okay," Cecily offered. "Looks like you didn't need us after all. Jonathan was getting worried about you."

He literally snarled at her. "That she is alive at _all_ is a miracle and no thanks to you, blood sucker!"

"Whoa guys!" I held up my hands, trying to replace my sorrow with a snippy tone. "First off, thank you for your concern. I have just spent a most exciting afternoon having my mind toyed with, being handcuffed in a closet, and almost getting sacrificed to your stupid statue." I waved a hand at it as I spoke.

Kethudrim approached it like it could bite. He drew a white handkerchief out of his pocket and gingerly dabbed at the blood. Then he solemnly turned to the corpse and touched a single finger to homeless man's forehead, murmuring something in a foreign tongue.

I coughed to cover my emotion and asked the obvious question, "Shouldn't we be getting out of here?" I made a sweeping motion that took in the entire room full of unconscious witches.

Cecily shook her head and joined Kethudrim at the table. "With the shield down, Kethudrim was able to cast a sleeping spell. They should be out for awhile."

Jonathan had disappeared for a moment and now reappeared. "There is nothing else of value here. The statue seems to have been their primary source to channel the power."

Kethudrim gently pulled the tablecloth up to cover the dead man's face and then wrapped the statue in another cloth. He bowed his head over the bundle and clasped it to his chest. When he raised his eyes they were wet with tears. "We thank you, Piper Cavanaugh. The People are in your debt. We can never repay what you have done for us today."

I coughed again, must have been something in the air, "You could start by voting not to declare open season on all of mankind."

Jonathan slapped me on the back.

"Deal!" he was grinning. "You have done well today, human."

I looked around the room. It still looked really creepy to me and I would never forget how helpless I had felt witnessing a murder. I tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that there was nothing I could have done, but I just wanted to get out of here.

Cecily was staring at a fallen witch with a hungry look in her eye that was really weirding me out. Time to go. I tugged at her arm to get her attention. It was harder than it should have been.

"Can we go now?" I asked plaintively.

"Hmmm?" she asked, still staring at the witch on the ground, "what?"

"Cecily!" I punched her arm, "Snap out of it. I've seen enough gore for one day and I am _not_ hanging around here to watch you eat dinner!"

She smiled at me, canines prominent, "You don't have to watch," but she laughed to show that she was joking. Kind of.

Kethudrim was still holding the wrapped statue like a baby and gazing at it in wonder. Jonathan finally took charge.

"Piper is right. There could be an alarm. We need to get out of here now."

I looked again at the homeless man, feeling the tears start to flow again. "Can't we do something for him?" I asked helplessly.

Cecily shook her head. "There's been too much blood spilt," she explained gently. "The police will be looking for a body."

I tried to think positively. "He warned me that something was wrong here," I said. "Maybe he would be happy to know that his death is going to help fix things."

We stood there for a moment of respectful silence before I retrieved my purse from the closet and within minutes we were in the car and on our way back to Melbourne. The surreal part was that it was only four-thirty in the afternoon. With the quick travel time I would be home before dinner.

"So," I finally broke the silence, "what are you going to do with it?" I nodded at the statue.

Kethudrim stroked it which struck me as kind of gross. At least it was still safely wrapped and I didn't have to look at it.

"First the Elders will have to examine it to make sure that its power has not been warped by the witches."

"Or damaged by the disrupter," Jonathan interjected. "By the way, what took you so long to set it off? Could you not find the statue?"

I glared at the back of his head. "I _tried_ to set it off. Ten minutes my back side! It took way longer than that to go off!"

"Did you push the two spots I showed you, then twist the top and press bottom and top together?" he wanted to know.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and I put my left leg in and out and then did the hokey pokey as well. I don't know. I think I did it right. I was feeling a little stressed at the time." My emotions were still super raw and I was hiding behind a façade of crankiness.

Cecily yawned and reclined her chair a tad. "It doesn't matter. What is important is that it worked. Piper is still alive. The statue has been retrieved and all is well that ends well."

"Except for the guy who lost his life," I said sarcastically. "Oh, and I forgot, it's not over for me. The fate of humanity still hangs in the balance." I used my best radio announcer's voice. "Tune in next week to the _Perils of Piper_ to see if she can save the world from utter destruction!"

"I loved that show," Cecily sighed.

"What show?"

" _The Perils of Pauline_. They just don't make TV like they used to."

I had no response to that. I had no idea when the _Perils of Pauline_ had been on TV, but I had a good idea that it was way before my time.

" _The Exploits of Elaine_ was not half as good," Cecily reminisced.

I'd never even _heard_ of that one. It made me feel young. Of course, I was talking to a person who looked about the same age as me. Which just made me feel weird. But that was the kind of day I was having. Weird.

"You don't think it will really happen, do you," Jonathan stated.

I was totally lost, "What will really happen?"

"The destruction of humankind."

I grimaced, "Hey, it's a lot to take in. I just can't believe that there are that many of, umm, _your_ kind around. I look around and see all these humans, everywhere, and I can't imagine that all changing. Even if the vampires and the witches and all of you started killing people, don't you think that the police would crack down on that?"

Cecily looked back at me sadly, "You have no idea how protected your race is right now. It's like deer in the forest. Sure they're hunted and killed, but only enough to keep the population stable and if a hunter kills more than his allotment then he is in big trouble with the law. But what if there _was_ no law? What if every person with a gun, or bow and arrow, could go out in the woods and kill as many deer as he wanted?"

"But if they killed _all_ the deer," I was going with her analogy even though it made me nervous to be compared to a dumb herbivore, "there wouldn't be any deer left to hunt and the hunters would go hungry, or at least have to pick up a new sport."

"Exactly," Cecily nodded, "but remember the buffalo? They used to cover the western plains as far as eye could see. Where are they now? They're not extinct but there sure aren't a lot of them left. This is why it is so important to keep humans protected. If every power hungry witch and Fae and vampire was to go out hunting, problems are going to arise. If you know that the competition is not going to practice selective hunting then it's every species for themselves. Gather as much power as quickly as possible. For a while things will be great, the balance between the species will hold. Of course, humans will be disappearing off the planet, but they are virtually powerless, so who cares? But when the power source becomes scarce, then we will have to turn to other alternatives: Human farming, stealing from other races, and in the end, worldwide war, each species against the others."

I admit I couldn't work up a ton of sympathy for a hypothetical war that occurred after my species was wiped off the planet. I also had a very negative mental image of human farming. It didn't look so fun in _The Matrix_ and I imagined the reality would be far less pleasant.

"Surely everybody can see that though!" I exclaimed. "I mean, really, any thinking person could see that by indiscriminately attacking humans they are dooming themselves to war."

Cecily snorted, "Power corrupts. Give anyone a chance at power and they will take it and future consequences be damned."

"But _ya'll_ aren't like that!" I protested. "Here you are trying to protect humans. Why would you do that if you have a chance to get ahead today, even if it hurts you tomorrow?"

"Because," Kethudrim joined the conversation, "you retrieved the statue for us. We're not helping you for free. No one helps anyone for free. There is always a price. It might not be agreed upon beforehand or even discussed, but there is _always_ a price." He looked deep into my eyes to impress me with the seriousness of what he was saying, "Don't forget it, Piper. Nothing is free. When something looks free that is when you should be the most wary."

I shifted uncomfortably on my seat, "Well, I certainly don't think your votes are free. Today was horrendous. Ya'll had better pay up." I nervously tugged at a strand of hair.

Cecily was pretty quiet. I started to wonder exactly what _she_ was getting out of all this. Vampires couldn't have kids. What did she care about a statue?

Before I could ask her, she spoke dreamily, "When you live forever you learn the value of patience. Only creatures who are bound by time make decisions for the now."

It was Jonathan's turn to snort, "Like you blood-suckers have never made a rash action. You pretend to be so far above us, but I wonder what it is you think you will be getting out of Piper. Or humans in general for that matter."

"Blood obviously," she smiled sharply. "The fate of vampires is linked to that of humans. We are not immortal, without blood we would die as easily as you, for we are not alive in the same sense as you. The Oracle has seen a future in which mankind no longer exists. It was _not_ a pleasant vision. We work to prevent it from coming to pass." She blinked and I felt her mood lighten, "Besides, I like Piper. Sometimes people do things for free for people they like."

I noticed that she didn't specifically say that there was no price tag attached to her help but I didn't feel up to pursuing the subject.

"You have been to see the Oracle?" Jonathan had a touch of awe in his voice.

Cecily made a sharp movement with her head, "We had no choice, but the price was high and we are not permitted to speak of it."

"What's the Oracle?" I asked.

"No one knows for sure," Kethudrim answered, "but sometimes, if you are willing to pay her price, she will tell you the future."

"A _possible_ future," Jonathan scoffed but he didn't sound too convincing. "No one can know for sure what will happen in the future. A single action can change everything."

I sank back on my seat. My head hurt too much to think about any of this. Was I even doing the right thing? Wouldn't it be better for all of this to come out in the open and for everyone to know the truth? It seemed to me like I was dooming mankind to be food one way or the other. Granted, we were food right now and didn't _know_ it, and I was beginning to feel that maybe ostriches have the right idea.

I shook my head to clear it and tried to focus on what was important. "What happens now?"

"Now we wait," Cecily sighed. "Your work today has purchased two votes on the Synod for keeping humans a protected species."

"Two," I complained, "All that for just two votes."

"Two is good," Cecily argued.

"Okay. So unless math is done differently in vampire land, three to two is not good if you are the two!" I admit it, I sounded a little snippy. "Who are the last three votes?"

"Vampire, UnSeelie, and Naga." She ticked them off on her fingers.

"Why don't I have the vampire vote?"

"You _may_ have it. But it is not assured. The Seelie Court and the werewolves will now put pressure on the vampires and Nagas to vote alongside them."

"And the UnSeelie?"

Cecily turned to Kethudrim.

He shrugged. "The Unseelie Court would see all of Elfhame burnt and sown with iron before they would willingly lift a finger to help a single human."

"I'm not sure exactly what that means but I'm going to take that as a 'No' vote."

Cecily smirked, "You could say that. Don't worry, Piper. The vampires are not unified on the human question, but I believe that common sense and logic will win the day."

I felt a sinking in my stomach. In my experience, common sense and logic rarely had anything to do with people's decisions, especially people in government.

My cell chose that moment to ring. It was a strange number so no name came up on my screen. I answered it anyway. Usually I don't pick up if I don't know the person, but I needed something to occupy my mind for a bit.

"Hello? This is Piper."

"Piper? Piper Cavanaugh?" It was an older woman's voice.

"Yes, this is she. Who is this?"

"This is Emily Starr, a friend of your mother's. I know she's out of town so I thought I would give you a call. I don't usually do this sort of thing and I am so sorry, but you know how it is, sometimes you just _have_ to do something, or say something, after all, I hope someone would do the same for me, although you must admit, it puts me in a most awkward situation, but your parents are good folks and they really deserve to know what is going on. Don't you agree?" She paused for a breath.

"Umm. I'm sorry. Agree with what?" Feeling lost and out of it was becoming too common an emotion for me.

"That your parents should know," she said as if that made everything clear. "I tried your mom's cell but it went straight to voicemail and you know how she lets the battery die and I thought, well, if she didn't remember to take her charger with her then she might not get the message until she got home, and I do believe that one should deal with problems as soon as they occur."

I was oozing confusion, "What?"

My mom did have trouble remembering to charge her cell phone, much less always carry it with her, but, for someone who was born before cell phones were even invented, I thought she was doing pretty well.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Starr, but I have no clue what you are calling about. Could you start over, at the beginning?"

She took a deep breath and spoke slowly, "It's about your sister, Sarah."

Lights clicked on all over my brain. "Oh," I said flatly.

I could tell she felt like she had finally broken through. "Yes, you see what I mean. Since your mom is out of town, I just _had_ to call you."

"What has Sarah done now?" _Please, please, God, don't let it be anything serious!_ I begged.

"Well, last night I was driving home from choir practice and I saw her and that trashy friend of hers. They were pulling out of a liquor store! A liquor store I tell you! And they were drinking in the car! They pealed out of the parking lot and almost hit my car! And then they slammed on the brakes in front of me and leaned out the window and made rude hand gestures at me and sped off. And I'm not sure, but I _think_ that someone was mooning me in the back seat!"

I choked. It wasn't funny. It was worse than I thought, but the mental image of this lady being mooned from a car window struck me as hilarious. I shut my eyes tight and tried to think. What to say? What to do? How to not burst into hysterical laughter? After the day I had been through I was ready to laugh about anything and never stop.

"Mrs. Starr," I said finally, "I am appalled at my sister's behavior and I promise you that she will be dealt with and my parents will be informed."

It took another ten minutes of hearing the story repeated four more times while continually assuring her that I would handle the situation before I could hang up. There was silence in the car. Cecily, Jonathan, and Kethudrim were all sitting bolt upright in their seats and staring straight forward.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said loudly into the silence.

# Chapter Twenty-One

Home was _not_ the peaceful oasis of calm that I had hoped for. It was clean, that was for sure. I didn't want to admit it, but it was rather shocking to open the refrigerator and discover that the shelves were not, as I'd always thought, frosted glass! Maybe I have a glass issue, because I _also_ noticed that I had a hard time telling if the sliding glass doors were open or closed. I'd always claimed that the smudges were a safety device. If the glass is dirty then no little children will accidently slam into it thinking that the door is open. Man, that maid was good!

So, clean, yes, relaxing, no.

First off, Carolyn took forever to leave. She kept reading "just one more story" and playing "one more game" with Cassidy and Megan. Then, after multiple hints from me, when she was finally loaded up with all her stuff, the girls threw the mother of all temper tantrums. They didn't want Granny to leave. This set off a whole _new_ round of hugs and kisses and assurances that she would be back as soon as Mommy let her. Grrr.

" _When_ , Mommy? _When_ can Granny come back?" they chorused, the little love-starved, neglected orphans.

My smile felt more like a death rictus at this point but I didn't have the energy to fake something more convincing. "We'll see her soon, don't worry."

Another fifteen minutes of tears followed, but finally I was standing in the driveway and watching Carolyn's car pull away down the street. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to pretend for a moment that all was well and at peace in my life.

"Hsst!" My peace was instantly interrupted. I gazed up into the gathering dust.

"If that's my cowardly neighbor, who dropped me off two houses away so that there was no chance of her running into my mother-in-law, then I have nothing to say to her," I called out still looking up at the sky.

I could see the first star appear in the sky. Ooops, no, it was an airplane. Just as well, I don't know what I would have wished for. World peace seemed beyond the powers of a humble star, and peace between my mother-in-law and I seemed even harder to achieve.

"No, this is the neighbor who saved your rear-end today!" Cecily whispered loudly. She was standing just at the property line, looking refreshed and energetic. It might have had something to do with the gathering dusk, or maybe she had taken a shower and gotten something to eat while I was hustling Carolyn out the door. God knows there was enough time.

"If I recall," I still didn't turn to face her, " _I_ saved the reproductive abilities of two species today and defeated a coven of evil witches all on my own. Last time I checked, 'rear saving' was not defined as 'showing up after the fact and looking around.'"

"Okay," her voice came inches from my ear. Wow, she could move fast! "So you did _most_ of the work yourself. But I would have saved your rear if it had needed saving."

I turned towards her at last. "I know, and I'm grateful. I'm just still processing." I watched the airplane cut across the sky for a moment, "What's going to happen to that shelter?"

Cecily's face flickered through some unreadable emotions. "Nothing," she said at last. "There is still officially a truce between our species and we cannot retaliate against them for something that they are doing that we couldn't _know_ they were doing if we hadn't broken the truce ourselves."

I slumped. "However," she continued, and I perked back up, " _unofficially_ , there are times when _tragic_ circumstances, _completely_ outside of our control or knowledge occur, and while _officially_ we would be _devastated_ to learn of any harm befalling another species' business, _unofficially_ , well, let's just say that vampires can't cry."

"You can't?" I asked, momentarily distracted.

"Nope. Dead men don't cry."

I heard a car coming down the street and looked up to see Mark pulling into the driveway. He waved and hopped out swooping me up into a big hug and kiss.

"Hey, honey!" I greeted him.

"How was your day?" he asked.

I thought about my day and almost started to cry again. I wanted to do something for that homeless man. I knew it was too late for him, but maybe it wasn't for someone else. "Hey Mark?" I asked. "Could we donate some money to a homeless shelter?"

"Sure," he said in surprise. "What brought this on?"

"Oh, I don't know," I lied. "I've just been thinking today how blessed we are with our house and cars and family and children, and how other people are not so fortunate. I'd like to help out somehow."

"Sounds like a great idea, babe," he said, kissing the tip of my nose. "Let's look into it and pick a good one."

I smiled, feeling a little better, but knowing that nothing was going to make me forget that poor man's death. Then I yelled, "Daddy's home!"

Megan came running and squealed in delight at being tossed up in the air. Cassidy was still lying on the floor and weeping.

"What's up with her?" Mark asked.

"Granny left."

"Oh. Say no more." He crouched down beside her. "Hey sweetie, you want to give Daddy a hug?"

"Nooo!" she wailed.

"Ok. I love you."

"Me 'ove Ganny!" she sniffed.

I rolled my eyes. "Ooookay. Girls, Mommy and Daddy need to talk for a minute. You go play in your room."

"I can't!" Cassie was still crying.

"You can and you will. Now march!" Even without the Voice, every mother has a tone that her children know must be obeyed without question. Megan and Cassie hopped up and ran back to their room. The door slammed loudly behind them and I winced.

Mark started opening the mail, "What do we need to talk about, babe? What's my mom done now?"

Otis decided that the coast was clear of little children and came out of hiding to rub orange hair all over my pant legs.

I groaned and squatted down to scratch his ears, "Don't even get me started. No, it's worse than that. It's what has _Sarah_ done now."

Otis was lying on his back purring loudly.

Mark shook his head, "What has she done now?"

I relayed the drinking, speeding, mooning story to him and he laughed.

"Mark!" I stood up and slapped his arm. "It's not funny."

Otis, offended that I'd stopped paying attention to him, hissed and ran back to wherever it was that cats disappear to.

"Yeah it is!" Mark was still grinning.

The corner of my mouth betrayed me and quirked up.

"Okay, so it's a _little_ funny. At least the mooning part. But _not_ the drunk driving. She is totally out of control. I think I need to go talk to her tonight. Calling Mom won't get me anywhere. Sarah has her wrapped around her little finger. Any time I try to talk to Mom I get this whole story about how I don't know everything that Sarah is going through and I need to cut her some slack."

Mark came up behind me and wrapped me in a hug. His breath tickled the back of my neck and for the first time that day I felt loved and protected and safe.

"If you think you should talk to your sister you go ahead. I'll hold down the fort here. Just remember that you _love_ her, Piper. She's your sister, and you love her, and everything you say needs to come from that love."

I snuggled closer to him, "Okay, Dr. Phil. I'll try to remember that when we're screaming at each other."

He bit my ear lightly, "Two peas in a pod." I bristled at that and he patted my head mockingly, "It's okay. I knew it before I married you." He held up a strand of my hair, "This may look brown on the outside, but on the inside it's a fiery red."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Fine, I'll control my temper. You control your daughters. Oh crap!" I suddenly remembered that Harvey had been home alone all afternoon and Carolyn never remembered to make him go out to the bathroom. "Harvey!" Mark smacked my butt and headed off to the girls' room.

"Who wants pizza!" I heard him yell and the answering screams seemed to say that pizza was a great idea. I wished that I was staying home with them.

Forty-five minutes later, after making Harvey go out, and helping Mark get a frozen pizza going for the girls, I was on my way. A fact finding phone call had revealed that Sarah was staying at her friend Amy's house. I wasn't sure if Amy was the mooner or if a third culprit was involved but I was going to find out.

A tap at my window as I pulled out of the driveway made me shriek out loud and almost run over the mailbox. Cecily stood there looking worried.

"Are you going out alone?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered shortly. "I need to handle a family matter."

"A family matter," she said flatly.

"Yes, a family matter. As in, a none-of-your-business matter."

"Don't you think I should come along?"

"Obviously I don't. If I thought that you should come along I would have _asked_ you to come along." Thinking about Sarah had put me in a bad mood.

Cecily threw her hands up in the air in mock surrender. "Okay. Just remember that I offered if you get into trouble."

"What kind of trouble could I get into driving across town?" I refused to think about the multiple answers there could be for that question. "Anyway, I've gotten along just fine for twenty odd years without you and I think I'll be safe tonight as well."

Cecily gave in way too easily. "All right, see you when you get back!" she waved like a good neighbor who was just being friendly.

I finished backing the van out and looked back to where she was standing. Per usual, she was already gone. I had a sneaking feeling that she might be following me. Was she speedy enough to keep up with a car? Could vampires fly? Or maybe she'd just turn into a bat and fly after me. I had a _sneakier_ feeling that maybe I felt better at the thought of being watched by an unseen protector. This way I could pretend to be big and brave and still know that someone had my back.

Worries aside, I made it safely across town and arrived at Amy's house. I sat in the car and screwed my courage to the sticking place and hoped that the place was sticky enough to hold it there. Something about dealing with Sarah always brought out the worst in me. And in her as well. One day I hoped that we would get past all this and be close, but today was probably not going to be that day.

Amy's mom was surprised to see me at the door.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hi, I'm Piper. Sarah's older sister."

"Oh! I didn't know you were coming over. Is there a problem?"

"Well," only if you define your teenage daughter drunk driving as a problem. "Not really. I just need to talk to Sarah for a minute. Is that okay?"

Her manners kicked in. "Of course, of course, come in! Sarah! Amy! Piper's here!"

Sarah stalked out of a hallway and glowered at me. She was in full black war paint and either she was Amy's clone or Amy was hers. Needless to say, they both probably thought they were being original and unique. Just expressing their own personal style. Totally oblivious to the fact that it also happened to be the "personal" style of every other goth, emo, or whatever they were calling themselves these days.

"Piper," she threw my name out like a challenge.

Amy's mom (still hadn't caught her name) suddenly remembered something she had to do in another room and disappeared. I don't blame her. We were probably helping her with her air-conditioning bill. At this rate she would have to turn her heater on soon.

"Sarah," I tried to sound mature and loving. To my own ears I sounded strained, doubtless to her it sounded condemning.

I sat down on the couch and tried to reign my temper in. "A Mrs. Starr called me this afternoon," I started and stopped when I saw the looks of disgust and rolled eyes that Sarah and Amy shared.

"What was she complaining about now?" Amy wanted to know. "That old bag is, like, _totally_ on our case all the time."

"She said she saw both of you coming out of a liquor store with alcohol and driving off." I decided not to mention the mooning. I might snicker and that would ruin my air of authority.

"What!" I could have sworn I saw a look of guilt pass over Sarah's face but it was gone instantly. A haughty, martyred look took its place, if it had ever been there to begin with. "And just _when_ did she see us doing this?"

I felt like I had missed a step in the dark. She didn't sound like someone who had just been caught red-handed in a crime.

"Last night," I said carefully.

Triumph blossomed on her face, "It's a lie."

I narrowed my eyes, "Explain."

"We were here all last night," she said coolly. "We had dinner at six with Amy's family and then stayed here all night playing games and watching movies."

Amy was staring at her with wide eyes. Either she was surprised at what Sarah was saying or else she always looked like a shocked raccoon. With all the eyeliner it was kind of hard to tell.

"Really," I drawled.

"You don't believe me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of saddened reproach.

"I don't."

"You _never_ believe me," she hissed.

"Sarah, give me one good reason why I should believe you!" I exclaimed. "It wouldn't be the first time you've done something stupid!" Oops. Not the right thing to say.

"How about you believe me because I'm your _sister_ and that's what a _good_ older sister would do. Oh, but I forgot, you're a _lousy_ older sister!" We sat there and glared at each other for a full minute. Sarah broke off first.

"Amy could you go get your mom?" she asked.

Amy scampered off and returned, followed by her mother drying her hands on a dish towel.

"Mrs. Baker," Sarah said sweetly and respectfully, "could you please tell my sister that Amy and I were here for dinner last night at six and then stayed home for the rest of the evening?"

Mrs. Baker looked puzzled, "But of course you girls did! I remember telling Tom how nice it was to hear you two giggling over whatever movie it was you were watching. Why, is there a problem?"

I looked around at the three other faces in the room: triumph, amazed suspense, and befuddlement. Something was off. Maybe Mrs. Starr had her nights mixed up. Well, I definitely was not getting anywhere now. I stood up and smoothed out the hem of my shirt.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," I said smiling, "I was wrong. I should have believed you at first. Thank you, Mrs. Baker, for clearing it all up for me. It was just a misunderstanding."

I let myself out the front door and decided to put off calling my mom until I knew a little more. Perhaps I could find out when Mrs. Starr's choir practice was, that might help pin the story down. Heaven forbid that Sarah was actually telling the truth, the sarcastic side of my brain said. Oh no, anything but that!

On the way home, I rehearsed in my brain everything that I _should_ have said but hadn't and everything that I _had_ said but shouldn't have. What a mess. Speaking of mess, there was something smeared all over the front door. _What in the world?_ I wondered.

I parked the van in the garage and came around to the front of the house to see. It was dark now but the lights from inside illuminated the front door enough so there was no mistaking the sight. I cried out and fell to my knees, hands clasped over my mouth to stop any louder screams. A large circle had been painted on the white front door. A circle with a five pointed star within. I would have thought it was done with black paint if the macabre paintbrushes were not lying crossed on my door mat. They were the two hind legs of a cat. The flesh had been sliced neatly around the joint, showing the interior white bone surrounded by red oozing muscle. The fur was matted with blood but the color was still discernable. It was an orange and white striped cat.

Otis was an orange and white striped cat.

# Chapter Twenty-Two

I was half expecting Cecily's hand on my shoulder and I didn't flinch.

"Oh, Piper," was all she said, but her voice was full of pain.

My eyes were brimming with tears but I refused to let a single one fall. I had gone past anger, past rage, past fury, and into an emotion so strong that it consumed every other feeling. It wasn't just my cat they had slaughtered, if indeed the lump of flesh and fur was Otis and not some other poor creature. They had come to my _home_. My home! My children and husband were inside, and they had stood outside and threatened us all. I knew what kind of respect they had for human life and realized that the step from killing a cat to killing my child was nothing to them.

Cecily began to say something but the front door started to open.

"Piper? Are you out there?" Mark asked.

I pulled the door shut in his face, one hand sliding into the slippery mess of the pentacle.

"Just a minute honey!" I thought quickly and said the first thing that came to mind, "There's a wasp nest out here. Don't let them in the house. I'm going to get the hose and spray it down."

"Okay," my trusting, loving, husband, who deserved so much better than to be lied too, said. "You want me to get it?"

"Nah," I answered staring at the gore now spread on my hand. "I've got it."

Cecily squeezed my shoulder, "I'll get the hose."

An instant later she was back and spraying off the door and walkway. I went to the garage and pulled out a couple Walmart bags. Using one like a glove, I picked up the two dismembered legs and wrapped them up in several layers of plastic. Within minutes there was nothing left but a wet door and front walk.

When we finished I turned to Cecily, "Thank you."

She nodded and silently returned to her home. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before entering the house. I went through the garage and straight into the master bedroom. I didn't feel up to facing anyone just yet. I fell face first on the bed and lay there wondering what in the world I was going to do. The bed sank down beside me and a furry head butted my forehead.

"Meow," Otis said, and started grooming my hair. "Ghack," he spit out a piece that was stuck on his tongue and then started licking again.

I didn't move. I had known it wasn't him on the front step. But the fact that it _could_ have been him made me feel as bad as if it actually _had_ been him. I rolled over and scooped him up in a hug.

"I love you, you big orange throw rug," I whispered and kissed the top on his head.

He laid his ears back and struggled to get away, offended that I would dare touch him without his permission. I laughed and let go and watched him stalk to the end of the bed where he sat with his back to me, radiating outraged dignity.

"Hey, babe," Mark said entering the room, "the girls want a good night kiss."

I went to tuck them in again and they also complained that I held them to tight. "et go, mommy," Cassie cried. "Too much huggin."

I stood and watched them for a while. Children truly _were_ the most precious gift in the world. I knew that tomorrow or the next day they would do something to drive me nuts and I would talk about selling them to the gypsies, but I didn't mean it. I would do anything to keep them safe.

Mark was propped up in bed, reading a book, when I came back. "How'd it go with Sarah?" he asked.

"Ugh."

"That good?"

"Double Ugh."

He put his book down. "Are you okay, honey? Lately you seem a little stressed."

Stressed, hah. I'm not stressed. It's just that the vampires and werewolves got me involved in a fight against some evil witches who want to kill humans so that they can harness their power and fight some invading aliens. That's all. Nothing to get stressed about.

"I'm fine," I said instead, "just tired and feeling a little under the weather."

"Okay, you know if you ever need to talk about anything—" he smiled. "I'm always here for you, babe."

I smiled. "I know. I love you so much."

Liar, I said to my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Big, fat _liar_!

The next morning, Cecily knocked on the sliding glass door seconds after Mark's car pulled out of the driveway. I wondered briefly whether she came through the gate or just jumped the six-foot privacy fence around our back yard.

"Hi!" Megan greeted her, "Wanna see my room?"

"Finish your breakfast, Megan," I scolded her, "and don't talk with food in your mouth."

I poured myself a cup of coffee and offered one to Cecily. She happily poured a giant mug and then added what looked like a cup of sugar and a ton of half and half. I watched with narrowed eyes. My cup consisted of coffee, Splenda, and a small dash of half and half. Life wasn't fair.

She had downed her coffee and was pouring another before she explained her presence.

"Can you get another babysitter today?" she asked.

"Granny!" Megan shouted.

I smiled a tight smile. "Why?"

Cecily gave a non-subtle and very dramatic head shake at the girls, " _You_ know..."

"What?" Megan wanted to know. "What does Mommy know?"

"Everything, sweetie," I answered.

"Everything? Did you know when I snuck out of bed last night and got a drink of water after you and Daddy were asleep?"

Mentally I rolled my eyes, "I do now."

"Ooh," she was impressed, "you _do_ know everything! Wow! How do mommies know everything?"

"Special mommy magic."

"Oh!" That made total sense to her and, after getting the remnants of their breakfasts wiped off their faces, she and Cassie ran off to play.

"Is today the day?" I asked Cecily.

She gave me a bright, cheery, and totally unconvincing smile, "Yup! The big day! The Synod will hear your case at noon today."

"Yay," I said flatly.

"Yay," she agreed.

I rubbed my eyes. This was definitely a two cups of coffee day. Maybe even a peanut butter and syrup waffle day. After all, who cares about getting fat when the end of the world is near?

On the other hand, if it _wasn't_ the end of the world, I would regret the extra calories. But I would be _alive_ to regret them and the joy of that might overwhelm the pain of not being able to button my jeans. _But_ , if I was going to break all dieting protocol and eat a waffle, maybe I should just go get some donuts and do it in style. Those would really add some numbers to my scale. Which brought me back full circle. What to hope for, that it was the end of the world and I could eat whatever I wanted because it no longer mattered, or that it _wasn't_ the end of the world and stick to my diet? What if I chose wrong? Decisions, decisions!

"What are you thinking?" Cecily wanted to know.

"I'm wondering what my jeans would look like if I glued a couple of donuts to my butt," I sighed, deciding to play it safe and optimistic.

"Sticky?"

"Yeah." I sighed again.

"Do I want to know what you're talking about?"

"Not really."

"Okay." There was silence in the kitchen. "Okay," she repeated. "Be ready to go at eleven?"

"Okay," I echoed.

She looked at me in concern but evidently decided that there wasn't much to say at a time like this. She slipped quietly out the way she had come, taking my coffee mug with her. She'd better return it; it was one of my favorites.

I turned on my cell phone for the day and saw I had received a message the night before. It was my mother.

"Hi, Piper. I hope the girls are doing well. Tell them I miss them and give them a kiss from me! We're having a wonderful time out here with your sister. I can't seem to find my cell phone charger, so it died and I'm calling you from Karen's home phone. Anyways, I just had a call from my friend Emily, you remember her don't you? She always makes such lovely apple pies for the church pot-luck suppers. She called to tell me that she had bothered you about Sarah and that she was totally mistaken. Sarah went over to visit her and got the whole thing cleared up. It wasn't her at all in the parking lot; Emily must have mistaken her for someone else. Or someone else for her? Oh dear, did that make sense? Oh well, you know what I mean. I just thought I should call you and tell you to _apologize_ to your sister. Apparently Sarah told Emily that you had been quite harsh with her. Anyway we're going out for dinner now, so, give me a call here later if you need to talk. Love you! Bye!"

I pursed my lips in thought. Hmm. I had been so sure that Sarah was lying. Why was I assuming the worst about her? Maybe I really did have it out for her. I should cut her some slack, and the next time I saw her I would definitely apologize. It was not helping our relationship for me to have to play the authority figure like this. I would be so happy when my parents got home and it was all on their shoulders. I had enough on my plate right now with my own girls.

I shuddered a bit at the thought that one day they would treat me the way my sister treated my mother.

I almost dialed Karen's number to talk to my mom but realized that, with the time difference, she probably wouldn't be awake yet. I stared at the phone in my hand and tapped my foot on the floor. I needed to ask Carolyn to babysit again.

There was some sort of energy force field surrounding the phone and preventing my fingers from dialing! Argh! Grow up, Piper! It's just a simple phone call!

I dialed.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Carolyn, it's Piper."

"I'm flattered, Piper. Two phone calls in two days! I would love to assume that you were calling to chat but history leads me to believe that you want something. What is it?"

I curled my lips back in a snarl and did an angry dance step around the kitchen to release energy. "I am calling to ask for another favor, Carolyn," I said as sweetly as I could.

"Yes, what is it?

"Could you watch the girls again this afternoon?" I blurted out, "It will only be for a few hours but I really need to go out again."

"Really? Well, of course I would love to see my grandchildren. I believe that it is important to spend frequent, quality time with children to build an atmosphere of trust and love. Apparently some people don't agree with that, but no matter. In my day I relied exclusively on the advice of my mother-in-law, I understand that the more modern woman looks things up on the internet." She said 'internet' like it was a dirty word.

I shook my head, did she mean that I wasn't spending enough time with my kids, which in turn would mean she would get to spend _less_ time, or did she mean that I didn't let _her_ spend enough time with them? I wasn't going to touch that or the asking for advice comment.

"Why thank you, Carolyn! I really appreciate it! I need to leave here at eleven, if that's ok."

"Fortunately I have no other plans that I would have to drop to come to your last minute request."

"All right then! I'll see you a little before eleven!" I said between clenched teeth. "Goodbye!" and I hung up without waiting to hear anything else. Why did she have to make it so hard to like her? Maybe she was secretly an ogre who turned green and warty at the full moon. That would explain a lot.

Harvey barked at the back door and I walked over to let him out. He promptly forgot why he wanted to go out and circled back around to come in the house.

"Uh, uh," I chided with the Voice, "Go into the back yard and go potty on the bush. Now."

He trotted happily off to obey, relieved himself and scampered back into the house. Why couldn't everything be so easy? You would think that someone with the power to make people obey them would have no problems at all in their life. I should be able to control everything to my heart's desire. Granted, there was the pesky little problem of turning immortal, but how bad would that be? I thought about it for a second. Okay, so it would be bad. And Mark would probably be angry if he found out that I was puppet mastering him.

Why couldn't I have gotten a more useful ability? Speed now, speed would be cool. Imagine if I could clean the house in a second. Or, while I was making wishes, how about no power at all? How about a plain normal life like the one I _thought_ I had up until a couple of days ago? Yeah, the Sentinel Synod might vote to make humans number one on the menu, but they might do that anyway. It wouldn't be _my_ fault, and it wouldn't be my _problem_ except in a survival sort of way. I thought about that for a minute and decided that, in this case, ignorance would be bliss right up to the point where you were slaughtered by a hungry werewolf, and then you might wish you had carried your shotgun with you.

# Chapter Twenty-Three

I made it out of the house without killing Carolyn, or worse, using the Voice on her. _You will be nicer to Piper. She is your favorite person in the world._ Ah, a girl can dream.

Megan and Cassidy were overjoyed at getting to spend a second day in a row with Granny. I would have some serious defragging to do over the next few days. Their little spoiled attitudes were going to be horrendous. It also warmed my heart to hear how many times, in the ten minutes from when Carolyn arrived, to my departure, that my little angels asked me if I was leaving yet. Nothing like being loved and cherished by your children to send you off in a good mood.

Cecily, coward that she was, waited for me in her front driveway and we were off to Orlando again. If we were going the traditional way I would have been well and truly carsick by now, but, with the Zipline, it seemed like a quick jaunt across town. We barely had time to cover what it was I needed to say to the Synod.

"I'm a human. Please don't eat me. I want to join," was apparently not professional sounding enough for Cecily. She made me practice saying my name in a clear, loud voice and speaking my request. I felt foolish but assumed that she had more experience in this sort of thing than I did. In no time at all we were in Orlando, pulling off of International Drive and into the parking lot.

Everything looked the same when we arrived at the Convention Center. Same odd assortment of bumper stickers in the parking lot. Same odd looking people wandering around.

A random question occurred to me.

"Cecily, how does a triffid hide itself from people?" I asked.

She looked at me like I was stupid. "By standing still."

"Oh." I might be taking closer looks at lobby fichuses from now on.

We entered through the same door as before with the same safety procedures. I guess the guards had heard of me by now because we were waved through without a fight. Inside, Cecily took off down one of the concourses. I scrambled to keep up. In the crowd it was hard to walk beside her and I had to bob and weave around people so that I could ask some important questions.

"What do I do when I go in?"

She shrugged and ducked under the waving arm of an impossibly tall and willowy woman.

"It should be very similar to a human court hearing," she said. "Be respectful. Answer any questions clearly and loudly and don't say anything without being given permission first. Remember, the Synod is made up of representatives from the werewolves, the vampires, the Seelie Court –that's the Fae who can stand humans, the Unseelie Court—the ones who can't, and the Naga, who are rather ambivalent."

I checked them off in my head. "Ok. Who is in charge?"

"The Naga is currently the chair."

"What's a Naga?"

Suddenly we were out of time and approaching a double door that had huge, black velvet curtains swathing it with four of the Bast's guards on either side. I'll say this for the magic folks, they know how to look impressive. Huge, golden ankhs adorned each door and smaller embroidered ones graced the curtains. The guards were each well over six feet tall, broad and very muscular. Eyes straight forward, they still gave the impression of seeing all and being able to respond at a split second's notice. I gulped. I so did _not_ want to walk through that door.

Cecily caught my elbow and turned me back to the door before my brain registered that I had turned away.

"Chin up," she hissed in my ear. "After all, _you_ can only die once."

I glared at her. "Not helping," I said and shrugged her off my arm.

I gave a last minute straighten to my top and brushed some invisible lint off my pants and I was ready as I ever would be. Squaring my shoulders I stepped towards the doors and was able to keep from reacting when they swung open on their own before my outstretched hand could touch them. I walked through them, head held high, and successfully fought the urge to look back over my shoulder at Cecily in mute appeal. There was no help in that direction. It was now up to me alone and I prayed that I would have the nerve to at least get through this without making a colossal fool of myself.

There's only so much drama I can assimilate at one time. I would worry about death and dismemberment when it was actually happening. Until then, my main fear was of looking like an idiot. Shallow? Perhaps, but I think, if most people were honest, that would be the thing they were most afraid of as well.

The room was smaller than the one in which I had met the Bast. A raised dais on one end held a long curved table. It was also covered in the black cloth dotted with gold ankhs. Another large ankh took central place on the front of the table. Behind the table were five golden thrones. I say "thrones" for I have no idea how else to explain them. They were carved and jeweled and decorated beyond all good taste and looked merely heavy and expensive. The beings sitting in the chairs were much more ordinary.

Starting on the left; first was a woman, tall, thin, and angular. I half expected her collarbone to poke a hole in her gauzy blouse. Her hair was black, very curly, and fell below her shoulders and past the edge of the table. Her eyes were a deep green, slanted and large. All of this should have made her beautiful, and she might have been, except for the look of pure hatred and disgust with which she met my gaze. Had I been a child molesting, cannibal, puppy-torturer I might have got a friendlier look.

Next to her sat a bulky, hairy man. Thick short cropped hair, bushy eyebrows, heavy five o'clock stubble and hairy muscular arms. I was guessing werewolf for this one, which made me wonder. What did a female werewolf look like? I seriously hoped they didn't have the same hirsutism problem. The werewolf winked at me in a friendly manner and relaxed back in his throne.

In the center of the table, in a slightly larger, more ornate, and thus more hideous throne, sat what I would describe as a completely normal looking human. He had red curly hair and light eyebrows and looked as if he were ready to tell you a funny joke. He was neither thin nor fat and looked to be of a same height with the werewolf. It must have been a trick of the light that made his eyes flash red for a moment when he turned his head.

This must be the Naga, whatever that was. He was definitely in charge and the look he greeted me with was neither welcoming nor hostile. I felt a trifle relieved. It seemed as if I would get a fair hearing from him.

On the right half of the table sat a woman with pale skin, short brown hair, and black emotionless eyes. She looked as if all the life had been sucked out of her and all that was left was a ramrod spine and cold disdain for everything and everyone. This was probably close to the truth since she was obviously the vampire representative.

An impossibly handsome man lounged at the far end of the table. He was so good looking that I blushed down to my toes when he smiled at me and had to stop myself from reaching up to check my hair. If the vampire was a black hole, then he was a brightly burning star. His elegantly pointed ears told me that this must be the Seelie Court representative, which would make the dark haired woman on the far end of the table the UnSeelie representative.

So, the UnSeelies had definitely not changed their opinion of me. The weres, and the Seelies were a "yes" and the vampire and the Naga were still unknowns. Not the greatest position to be in, but I supposed it could be worse.

Several yards in front of the table was where I was obviously to stand. A small wooden lectern had been set up, complete with a glass of water for my squeaky throat. Little more than a minute had passed since I had entered the room, surveyed the occupants, and took my place before them. I placed my hands on either side of the lectern to still any tell-tale trembling and focused my gaze on the man in the center seat.

"Piper Cavanaugh?" he inquired, gazing down at some papers before him.

"Yes," I croaked, then cleared my throat and tried again. Darn them for making me so nervous! I was human and the last time I checked there were a bunch of us on the planet. Large and in charge, that's us. I was _not_ going to be cowed by some fairy tale creatures out of the Grimm Brothers!

"Yes. I am Piper Cavanaugh," I said a little louder than absolutely necessary just to get a feel of my voice in the room.

A small smile quirked up the side of the man's mouth but he quickly smoothed it out. "Very well then, let us proceed."

The other heads at the table nodded assent.

He motioned towards my left where the woman I assumed was the UnSeelie representative sat. "May I present the current Sentinel Synod," he said politely, "Starting at the far end of the table is Maiuanna Teasen'Dhodrim of the Unseelie Court, Daniel Eckhart of the weres, myself, Kenneth Deerhurst, of the Naga, Dusana Svobodova, of the vampires, and Eirvain Rilynn'Nimlae of the Seelie Court."

Riiight, I thought, I was going to remember all of that. That's when I noticed the classy name plates in front of each seat. Dhodrim, Eckhart, Deerhurst, Svobodova, and Nimlae. Okay. At least I wouldn't embarrass myself too much by not remembering all their odd names. Now all I had to do was pronounce them correctly.

I noticed Deerhurst staring at me in a now-it's-your-turn sort of way. Oh. Well then. I cleared my throat nervously. "I would like to petition the Synod for my species to join the United Supernatural Beings."

Dhodrim, the UnSeelie Fae, pulled her lips back in an inaudible snarl. I guess I knew what her vote would be.

"This creature," she spat the word, "is under censure for improper use of her abilities and endangering the concealment of all preternatural beings."

Deerhurst raised his hand, "That issue is not open for discussion at this time. Today we are looking solely on whether human beings should be allowed membership status." He turned back to me, "State your case, please."

My eyes got big for a moment. My case? I squeaked mentally. My case consisted of: I don't want to become tomorrow's lunch menu. I blew out slowly and thought furiously. "As I understand it, the USB is a governing body to protect all," what was that word that Dhodrim just used? Oh, "preternatural beings. Since no earth government exists to rule and discipline the myriad of diverse beings that remain in hiding on this planet, a group had to be formed for that purpose. All beings who join are thus putting themselves under the rule of the USB and agreeing to cohabitate with each other in a discrete manner, so as not to risk the exposure of all."

Deerhurst was leaning forward with a pleased look on his face, as if his prize poodle was doing well in a competition. Svobodova, the vampire, looked bored to tears. That is, if vampires could cry. Which, according to Cecily, they couldn't.

"Humans, up to this point, have been a semi-protected species. As long as an action did not risk exposure, then any action was acceptable."

Dhodrim smiled an icky smile that seemed to be remembering something hideously pleasant. Yikes.

"As I understand it, that protection is in danger of being lifted. Until now, no human has shown traits that would permit them to join the USB. I, however, have a supernatural ability which should permit me to join. I am _also_ fully human, and I would argue that there are more humans like myself out there in the world. We are just better at hiding than some of ya'll."

Eckhart, the werewolf frowned at this point. Maybe that was carrying it a bit far.

"My case is this: I am human. I also have supernatural abilities. Thus, humans are capable of supernatural abilities and should be allowed into the USB and remain under its protection." I slowly released my death grip on the podium and felt blood stinging back into my fingers.

Deerhurst leaned back in his chair. "Very good. This is an unusual case and, as such, our proceedings shall be a trifle different. We shall now hear from the other side, if you will."

Dhodrim smirked, which did not seem to bode well. By the time I turned my gaze from her face, all the others were looking unemotionally at the door.

I wished I knew how the vampires were going to vote. This Svobodova didn't seem to be all too friendly.

Cecily was definitely on my side, but she had spoken of factions within the vampires. _Just shoot me now!_ my brain screamed. _Get it over with, I can't stand the suspense._ I wanted to curl up in a ball under the podium and not come out until it was done with, one way or the other. I'm very much afraid that in a tense situation I would be the one to freeze in terror. Call me a bunny rabbit, I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

The door opened and a woman walked in. She looked a little shaky, like she had recently been sick or something. When she got closer my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. It was the priestess from the homeless shelter. I closed my eyes to stop the spinning feeling in the room. This could _not_ be good.

Someone brought in a second podium and thoughtfully put it some distance from mine. I tried to keep my eyes on Deerhurst, but I was very aware of every movement that the Priestess made. The more I tried to move and look around in a normal fashion the more awkward and uncomfortable I felt.

Svobodova was watching me with a very unkind smirk on her face. I decided to chalk it up to her superior vampire hearing which could probably detect my increase in heart rate and had nothing to do with my acting ability, which was perfectly fooling everyone else in the room.

"Please state your name for the Synod," said Deerhurst when the Priestess took her stand behind the lectern.

"Luna Oceania," she said regally.

I began to laugh, stopped it at my lips and choked and sputtered instead. Every eye turned to me and I grabbed my glass of water and downed it in one gulp, which caused me to choke for real. By the time I quit pounding my chest and gasping for air they had decided to leave me to my fit and continue.

"Greetings," Deerhurst said. "As you know, we are here today to discuss the case of Piper Cavanaugh." He waved a hand in my direction. I made the mistake of glancing over at good old Luna and was quite happy that the Bast was still preventing any use of magic. Otherwise I would have spontaneously combusted or perhaps turned into a frog. Maybe both.

Deerhurst ignored her furious glare and went on. "Ms. Cavenaugh is—"

I interrupted. After all, this was about the entire human race, not just me, "That's _Mrs._ Cavanaugh, please."

The other members of the Synod were looking at me in shock. Apparently correcting the Chairman was not advisable. I was just getting tired of being pushed around, threatened, and kept in the dark as to what was really going on. It was time to show a little backbone.

I met the Naga's stare with an equally steely one of my own. I swear I saw his mouth quirk again, but he spoke calmly as if nothing had happened.

" _Mrs._ Cavanaugh is here to join the USB as a human. She has presented her case and we are now prepared to hear the opposition."

Luna gave me a toothy, the-better-to-eat-you grin and spoke, "Naturally, we of the Witches And Necromancers Deputation want to see _every_ preternatural species accepted into the protecting arms of the USB, however, we do not believe that humans qualify."

"On what grounds?" growled Eckhart the werewolf. He didn't seem to care too much for the witch. Granted, that probably had something to do with our little episode at the homeless shelter the other day, when we found the witches using death magic to enhance their power. Come to think of it, Nimlae, the Seelie representative, was looking like he swallowed something bitter as well.

Luna answered in her plumiest of tones, "On the grounds that her magic has not been tested and proved. We have the word of the vampires," the look she exchanged with Svobodova made me very uncomfortable. It looked almost friendly, which would not be a good thing for me. "But no proof. Before we go any farther in this debate, we ask that the creature, Piper, be tested for magical ability."

I was glaring now. I don't like being called a creature and I still had the immortality thing to worry about. How much was too much? Unfortunately, my opinion was not consulted.

"Granted," said Deerhurst. "We shall ask the Bast to remove her dampers on this room alone and shall test Mrs. Cavanaugh's ability."

Far faster than I would have preferred, the preparations were completed for my test. Two chairs had been brought in for me and the witch to sit in, and something "popped" in the air, rather like the feeling you get in your ears as an airplane is taking off or landing. I assumed that was the "magic damper" being removed from the room.

I could tell that I wasn't the only one made a little uncomfortable by this. The Synod members seemed to move their chairs farther away from each other and there was a definite gap on either side of Deerhurst. I still didn't know what a Naga was, but I was getting the idea that they were not a species to mess with.

I sat in my chair and tried not to fidget. How were they going to test my power? How strong was my power anyway? It's not like I had ever tested it myself. What if I used it too much and became immortal? Wouldn't that automatically make me non-human? What if that was their evil plan all along! I had way too many questions and no answers whatsoever.

I raised my hand in the air like a school child.

"Yes?" Deerhurst noticed me first.

"What if I refuse to be tested?" I asked, adding quickly when I saw everyone's faces, "not that I am. I just want to know my options."

Deerhurst didn't even have to think about it, "You would be put to death today."

I blinked. "Okay. Thanks. Just wondering."

Sooo, that option was definitely out. I guess I really _didn't_ have a choice. Unless you call suicide a choice. I could work myself into a tizzy with paranoid uncertainty or I could use the Voice to the best of my ability and trust that, whatever the outcome, it was better than instant death.

Minutes later Deerhurst made some sort of signal to the other representatives and they left off their whispered conversations, or staring into space, and the meeting started again.

"We will be testing your ability starting on the weakest level," Deerhurst announced. I must have looked puzzled for he explained, "First, we will start with a human."

Oh good. Human equals weak. Yay.

The doors opened and the guards brought in a man who looked to be anywhere from forty to sixty years old. He was shaggy-haired, unkempt, had rotten teeth and smelled like a brewery. His clothes were in rags, but layered in such a way that none of the holes lined up. Another homeless person. It frustrated me that these poor people were being preyed upon by the _all_ the USB!

They led him to stand between the two lecterns and took a step back.

He looked around the room with bleary eyes. Apparently none of this struck him as very strange or out of the ordinary.

"Whurrsmaburr?" he mumbled. "Whurrsmaburr?" He kept repeating it over and over and I began to assume that he had been promised a drink in exchange for appearing. At least he was going to get something out of this. Even if it wasn't something totally beneficial for him.

I looked at the homeless man, and then back at Deerhurst. What exactly did they want me to do?

"Command him," Deerhurst said and everyone leaned forward in anticipation.

"Command him to do what?" I asked.

"Anything."

I glowered. "You'll have to be a _tad_ more specific than that. Besides, to prove that I'm using the Voice, it would have to be something that he wouldn't do anyway, which, from the look of him, there's not much he wouldn't do for the alcohol you've promised him."

I turned to the man. I felt rather scummy doing this, but what-the-hey, my life or his dignity, and it's not like I was going to ask him to take off his clothes and dance around naked.

"Sit down please," I said, using no Voice at all. Of course he sat. I looked back at the table and made a what-did-I-tell-you face.

Dhodrim rolled her eyes. "Tell him to bark like a dog and roll over."

I frowned. That was just demeaning and rude. And to be honest, I wasn't sure that he wouldn't do that just for another drink even _without_ the Voice. Since I wasn't getting much help in the ideas department, I thought of one on my own.

I took a deep breath and used the Voice, "You will not drink any more alcohol today. You will leave here without collecting your bottle and go straight to the nearest rehab shelter and tell them that you want help giving up booze."

He stood up like a puppet, turned around and headed out the door. "Wait!" called Deerhurst and the guards put out arms to stop him. He stood there shuffling his feet and looking like he really had somewhere else he needed to be.

"Where are you going?" Deerhurst asked him.

"Gotter go to thuh shelter," the man said. "Ahm goin dry frum nowahn."

"May you have success in your endeavors," Deerhurst said. "You may leave."

The table looked at me with renewed interest. It seems that there had been some doubt in their minds about the legitimacy of my ability. Eckhart and Nimlae were openly smiling. Yippee. I was so glad I settled that for everyone. Now what?

# Chapter Twenty-Four

"Excellent!" Deerhurst rubbed his hands together. "I believe we have established a base line. I am personally convinced that the human was coerced by the power of Mrs. Cavanaugh's Voice to do something against his will. All agreed, say 'aye.'"

It was unanimous. "Coerced" and "against his will" made me feel slimy. I sighed and tried to put it to the back of my mind. It was probably going to get worse before it got better, and anyway, it's not like that man should be drinking. His liver was most likely the consistency of shriveled leather. I'd done him a favor. So why did I feel so bad about it?

"Now," continued Deerhurst, "shall we take volunteers from the convention or just experiment upon ourselves?"

Volunteers won hands down. Big surprise there. After a few more minutes of waiting, in which Dhodrim and Luna skewered my head with evil glares, and Svobodova went into some vampire stillness trance where she didn't even breathe (creepy), our new test subject was brought in.

Everyone looked like a normal human to me. I had to take their word when I was told we were starting with a lesser Fae, a brownie. My knowledge on the subject of brownies was that they either wore cute little uniforms and went door to door selling cookies, or cleaned your house and made shoes while no one was looking. I felt pretty safe to assume that this was one of the latter kind. For one thing, while he was short, he was no child, and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, not a uniform.

We stood facing each other, with me feeling more and more ridiculous. I looked helplessly at Deerhurst.

"What do you want me to tell him to do?"

The brownie smiled at me which made me feel even more like scum.

"Pure iron," said Svobodova. Dhodrim and Nimlae both hissed and the smile fell off the face of the Brownie.

"Agreed," said Deerhurst. He waved his hand and a guard brought forward what looked like a box made of lead. A bar of metal was carefully lifted out, and I noticed that the two Fae leaned subtly away from it in their chairs.

The bar was placed in my hand and the brownie facing me took a step back. Drops of sweat were growing on his forehead and his eyes flickered from the iron in my hand to the door. I looked down at my hands and then at the representatives. What was I supposed to do?

"Command him to take the bar from you," Svobodova said with a sneer.

I looked back at the man in front of me. He had large, brown eyes that were wide with fear, but he held his ground.

"Wait," said Deerhurst. He turned to Nimlae. "He is one of yours. You command him first."

Nimlae grimaced but turned to the brownie, "Take the iron in your hand," he said firmly.

The brownie reached forward slowly. Hand trembling, sweat running down his face in rivulets and dampening his curly hair. He moved as if through a morass of peanut butter. Two inches away he stopped as if blocked by an invisible wall. Minutes later he was quivering with exertion but no closer to touching the iron bar.

"Enough," said Nimlae and the brownie sprang back with relief. "Now it's your turn."

I gritted my teeth and held the bar loosely in front of me on two open hands. "Please take the bar in your hand," I commanded with the Voice.

The brownie reached forward quickly and grabbed up the iron bar. He cried out in pain as it scorched his hand and the smell of burnt flesh filled the room. Smoke curled off the iron as he dropped it on the floor and clutched his hand to his chest. I closed my eyes and felt sick to my stomach.

"Excellent!" Eckhart, the werewolf, clapped his hands in appreciation. I glared at him in disgust and he had the nerve to wink playfully at me. "Well done, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Your powers appear to be formidable!"

A woman came forward and wrapped the brownie's hand in a cloth and led him away. As the door closed behind them I could hear a small sob of pain escape his lips. I hardened my heart and stared at the wall behind the table. Bring it on. Better to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"We shall go next," said Eckhart cheerfully. He was enjoying this way too much. "I have just the test! Bring in one of the weres," he ordered the guards. "An Ailuranthrope, please."

A what? I wanted to ask. Before all this started I thought I had a good grasp on the English language. Now it seemed that every two minutes I heard a word that I'd never heard before. I needed a Magic to English dictionary.

The guards brought in a young woman, which really didn't tell me anything about what she was, other than a were. I hoped this test would not be as unpleasant as the last one. I could still smell singed flesh. The iron bar had been replaced in its box while we waited and the Fae seemed to relax when the lid closed.

There was some weird eye thing going on between Eckhart and the newcomer. He was trying to stare her down and she was loftily looking past his left ear. It made me wonder just how much power the Synod really had over its members.

Finally Eckhart spoke, "Change," a long pause, then "please."

The woman quirked a single eyebrow at him and then pulled her shirt over her head.

Oh crap. She was getting totally naked here in the middle of everyone! I turned my back and pretended not to be horribly uncomfortable.

A gloopy sound, like marbles rolling around in jello, made me turn back around. I caught the tail (ha ha, no pun intended) end of the act. The young woman's arms and legs seemed to be bending the wrong way, her middle was stretching out, her face had flattened and teeth elongated. Spotted fur rippled over her body from head to foot and sharp claws sprang out of her fingers and toes. In less time than it takes to tell, every trace of human was gone, and a large orange spotted cat sat before us calmly licking down patches of fur that were out of place.

My jaw about hit the ground. This was no werewolf. If I wasn't mistaken, and I like to think that my weekend jaunts to the Brevard Zoo with Megan and Cassidy were paying off, this was a jaguar. She was beautiful. Sleek, powerful, impressive, and I might also add, completely deadly, and sitting four feet away from me.

She turned her head to me and yawned, showing rows of sharp white teeth. Then she stretched her way to her feet and paced towards me, butted my leg with her head and rubbed her whole body across me, about knocking me over.

My brain was still trying to come to grips with what it had seen. Part of it wanted to be scared, but most of it was reminded of Otis. He liked to rub his face on me the exact same way. I had looked it up to see if it meant anything and read that it was how cats claimed something as their own.

I reached down and gently scratched the base of the huge ears and was rewarded with a rumbling purr. She huffed once into my hand and then stalked back to sit up straight with her tail curled daintily around her feet.

I tore my eyes away and checked back with the Synod. Deerhurst gestured to Eckhart and the ball was apparently in his court. I sincerely hoped that whatever he came up would not harm this gorgeous creature. I've always been a sucker for big cats.

"Mrs. Cavanaugh," Eckhart spoke, "May I introduce Katie Brandon. She is an Ailuranthrope, or a were-cat."

I was still a little in awe, "Wow."

He smiled. "Yes. She is indeed impressive. I would like to show you a bit more of what she can do." He picked up a pencil off the table and threw it across the room. "Fetch, Katie!" he commanded.

Her ears laid down flat on her skull and she spat at him in disdain. I knew that look and took a step back. When Otis made that face it meant lacerated skin for anyone who tried to get too close.

Eckhart stood and glared down at her, "I am your representative to the Synod. You _will_ obey my command. Fetch!" he bellowed.

I shrank back a bit more.

Katie's tail lashed furiously around her feet and she hissed and spat in a manner that had me taking another step for the door. I did not want to be in the way when she sprang at Eckhart and ripped his throat out.

He sat down and looked at the other representatives.

Svobodova languidly waved her hand, "You're made your point. Continue."

Eckhart turned to me. "Command her to fetch the pencil, bring it back to you, and drop it in your hand."

I gulped. As I've said before, my Voice works on Harvey, but he is slightly dumber than the smartest brick. I'd never had reason to try it on Otis and I had some serious doubts about whether it would work on this cat either. How much of her was cat and how much human?

"Whenever you are ready," Dhodrim said sarcastically.

I stiffened. _Evil bitch_ , I thought in my head at her, and then felt instantly bad. I tried to never use language that I didn't want my children using, and "bitch" would definitely not be a word I wanted hear out of a four year-old's mouth. I amended it to "Vicious, back-biting spider," all in my head of course.

_Now or never_ , I thought, and turned to Katie the Jaguar. She was still angry, her tail twitching and her claws unsheathed. I took a deep breath and commanded her quietly with the Voice, "Katie, please go and fetch that pencil, bring it to me and place it in my hand," I added another "please" for good measure.

She went still, huge orange eyes staring at me unblinking. Then with fluid ease she crossed the room to the fallen pencil. She had a bit of trouble with it and had to bat it with a paw a couple of times before getting her teeth around it. She returned and dropped it daintily in my hand and then went and sat with her back to me. It was typical cat body language that said, "I'm offended with you and going to pretend like you don't exist."

When everyone at the table drew a breath, I suddenly realized that they had all been _holding_ their breath. What confidence. I stepped up to the table and dropped the slightly wet pencil in front of Eckhart. "Satisfied?" I asked.

"Very impressive," Deerhurst smiled. "You may change back, Miss Brandon. Thank you for your time."

The same sickening, slimy sound started behind me and I couldn't resist turning around to watch. The cat to human change was even more stomach turning. It just looked wrong. My brain couldn't quite come to grips with what my eyes were seeing. I turned politely away when the transformation was almost complete and didn't return to my podium until I heard the rustle of clothes finish and the door open and close.

Eckhart was watching me with an amused grin on his face. Ha. Naked people turning into animals might be all in a day's work for him, but I was not accustomed to such goings on. Nor did I really want to be. I've never been what I would call a "naked person." Meaning, I would rather have clothes on than not. I don't wander around the house naked, or sleep naked, or anything like that. As beautiful as that were-cat had been, I wouldn't want that kind of ability. Not unless your clothes could change with you.

Svobodova and Deerhurst were engaged in some sort of whispered discussion. It looked like the vampire was losing. As angry and forceful as her face looked, she was still keeping a respectful distance from the Naga. I wondered again what would make a vampire nervous and did I really want to know what a Naga was?

It appeared that they had reached some sort of compromise. Their argument finished, Svobodova made an angry gesture to the guards at the door and they retreated to collect a new victim for my test. I was right in assuming that a vampire was next on the list. Apparently we were saving the best for last.

More whispered discussions were taking place at the head table. Eckhart and Nimlae were casting worried looks my way, while Dhodrim and Svobodova looked extremely smug. Deerhurst merely looked grim. Uh-oh. I had a feeling that I was not going to like whatever was coming next.

The guards brought in an angry looking young man. He was tall and buff with green camo pants and a tight green t-shirt that looked like it had been painted over his muscles. My heart stopped for a second and then started pounding in my ears.

It was the same vampire I had met in the alley all those years ago.

His hair was shaved short and the tattoo of the spider was clearly visible on the side of his thick neck. He glared at me and flashed some fang before coming to parade rest before the head table.

I fiddled with my hands on the podium and almost jumped out of my skin when I realized that one of the guards was still standing next to me. He was holding out a piece of wood about three feet long and two inches in diameter. It was sharply pointed on one end and the point was tipped in silver.

"No," I said aloud. "I won't do it."

Svobodova stood at her place. "You are correct, human," she sneered the word, "You will order Matthew to do it to himself."

The new vampire, Matthew, looked as startled as I did. "What?" he barked.

Svobodova sat back slowly in her seat. "You allowed this human to humiliate you and thus all vampires. You then failed in your attempt to find her after you so foolishly let her slip through your fingers. This will be your last chance to redeem yourself. You have the blessing of this Synod and the permission of the Bast to kill this human. Now."

My brain was still trying to wrap itself around that last sentence when Matthew backhanded me so hard I flew through the air and tumbled roughly on the carpet.

Had Matthew been thinking about my ability and not about his wounded pride, I would have died in that first moment. If he had directed his blow to my throat instead of my body I would have been unable to use the Voice. In hindsight I should have been grateful for that small bit of equal footing. I also should have been grateful that Matthew chose to play with me instead of finishing me off quickly. At the moment, I had no such thoughts of gratitude.

Before I could even open my mouth, much less compose a command, he was on me again. Vampires are unbelievably fast, and freakishly strong. This time I flew through the air and smashed against the far wall. I heard and felt my collarbone snap and I was screaming before I hit the ground.

He was there in my face before my body stopped moving. I tried to put up a hand to block him as I took a breath to use my Voice. He grasped my forearm so hard it crunched. I had an instant of pain-free shock before white hot fire ran up my arm and resonated in my collar bone. I screamed again and kept on screaming as he stood, still holding my arm, and lifted my whole body off the ground with that one grasp.

He stared into my eyes for an eternity of a second and I recognized nothing human in his face. He was a killer, a mad dog set free of his leash, and he was enjoying this immensely. Contemptuously, he threw me back across the room to land in a sobbing heap before the head table. He took his time walking towards me, enjoying my pain and my terror.

I glanced up at the table. The three men were poised, half risen from their seats, faces a mixture of internal struggle, anger, and empathy. The two women were also leaning forward, Svobodova's face was stern and emotionless, Dhodrim was clearly enjoying this, almost as much as my attacker. Damn every single last one of them.

I struggled to my knees, cradling my mangled arm against my body. I tried to gasp in air and sucked down fluid instead. I took a steadying breath and tried again. The vampire stopped, head cocked to one side, and an amused smile on his face. Two of his front teeth were hideously elongated and hunger burned in his eyes. I knew this was it. He was done playing around.

"Stop!" I commanded with a shriek. I gasped in another wet breath and hit him again with the Voice. "Stop right now!"

He froze in place, a puzzled look on his face.

"Don't move," I commanded and struggled to my feet. Black dots danced in front of my eyes and I felt the room swirl around me. I bit my lip so hard it bled and hung on to consciousness with all the willpower I possessed. I knew my command was only good for a short period of time. If I passed out, I would be dead.

I stood there, swaying on my feet, wanting to throw up, and hating with a passion every single person in this room. I met each of the representative's eyes. UnSeelie, were, Naga, vampire, Seelie. I took another breath, trying to keep it shallow so as not to jar my ribcage, which hurt.

"I despise each and every one of you," I said. "You're right. You may all look human. But you are definitely _not_ human. I am proud to be a human, and it sickens me that you have made me a little like yourselves. This is on your heads."

I turned to Matthew. "Pick up that stake," I commanded. Eyes raging murderous fury, he bent stiffly and picked up the stake from the ground.

I stared him down for a long time. Could I do this? Could I really kill someone in cold blood? It would not be self defense. We were not fighting at the moment. I could command him to stand still while I walked out of here unharmed. True, I had humiliated him, bested him. And it was rather obvious that he was not the forgiving sort. I would be able to leave here, but he would be coming for me. And now he knew where I lived.

I thought of Mark and my girls. If this creature came for me I would be putting them in danger. In that instant my mind was made up. I have always looked down on people who espouse conditional ethics. Either you believe something and live by it or you don't really believe it. But right now I was all about the conditions. Normally I believe that there is no excuse for murder. But today, I was going to murder someone, and truthfully, I wasn't all that torn up about it.

"Drive that stake into your heart," I commanded. I saw the fear in his face as his arms lifted and positioned the silver point over his heart. He paused, fighting the command with everything he had.

"Do it now," I commanded again. And he did.

# Chapter Twenty-Five

I've never killed someone before. I'm not sure how I felt about it. I didn't have a lot of time to process my feelings. I fell back to my knees and the jar to my broken bones was so painful that I blacked out.

My memories of the rest of the meeting are disjointed. Like a light turning on and off in a dark room.

My face was smashed into the carpet and it gave me a rather off perspective. Mostly I remember seeing people's feet moving about. I could also see a spreading puddle of dark liquid. Two puddles in fact. They pooled slowly towards each other and I wondered, without really caring, what would happen when they finally joined. It seemed like it would mean something, I just didn't know what that was.

Blackness.

I felt pain. Pain in my arm. Pain in my shoulder. Pain in my chest.

Light.

Deerhurst was speaking. "-der the circumstances, I think we can safely say that she does indeed have magical ability without further testing."

I heard the sound of thuds and raised voices from the door. I focused back on the carpet.

"Agreed," said several voices.

A voice from behind my head. "We concur with the Synod ruling. We would like to bring forward our second objection." It was a woman's voice.

"Ms. Oceania, this is hardly—" Deerhurst sounded annoyed.

"On the contrary," that sounded like Dhodrim, "this is exactly the time."

A sigh. "Proceed."

The woman's voice sounded smug, "We would like to bring up the Code, item 287, point E."

"I don't suppose you would care to read it to us," a man growled.

Blackness.

I felt the pain circling me, looking for a location to come to rest. Something wet was interfering with my breathing. This annoyed me no end. Bad enough that every breath hurt, but why did it feel like I was breathing water? It didn't seem fair.

Light.

"-ures of like magical ability, they shall be classified a magical species."

"And your argument?"

"While we openly admit that the human Cavanaugh _has_ magical ability, it is not possible for her species to be accepted since she is the only one of her kind."

"Only one! There are millions of humans!"

"But only _one_ with magical ability. We believe the law is very clear. Were the human to produce another human of like ability, we would then agree to the re-hearing of the case. Barring that, it seems clear that this is a non-issue and the whole case should be dismissed."

Uproar. Raised voices. Arguing. More commotion from the direction of the doors.

"Keep her out!" someone yelled.

Blackness again.

Light.

A voice yelling over my head. Someone was touching me. I wished they would stop. Fingers probing into my pain. I was rolled onto my back.

I was screaming again.

"—the hell were you doing! She's dying and you're sitting there arguing points of the Code!"

"You are out of line—"

"Iron take you, Maiuanna! Chairman Deerhurst!" the voice broke. " _Please_!"

Blackness, finally. Merciful blackness.

# Chapter Twenty-Six

My senses came back in pieces. I could smell first. A tangy copper smell, sweat, fear, a musky smell I couldn't identify. Next was my hearing. Two voices were speaking low near my head. A man's and a woman's. I felt like I should know them. They both sounded familiar. I struggled to place them while the words bounced harmlessly off my comprehension.

"-nk you," said the woman.

"It is not often that I am called an egg sucking, cold-blooded, worm," the man replied.

"My apologies. I was," she paused for a moment, " _upset_."

The man laughed. A deep rumbling laugh. It made me want to laugh as well. "You have a talent for understatement, my dear. It is obvious that diplomacy is not your path."

I began to regain feeling. I was lying on a hard surface. Legs stretched out straight, arms at my sides. Warmth was radiating from my stomach. There was pressure there as well. It felt like two hands pouring heat into my body. My eyes snapped open.

I was lying on the Synod table. The chairs were empty, as was the room. Empty of everyone except Deerhurst who was standing over me, hands placed on my stomach, speaking to Cecily. She was standing a step back from the table, body language that of someone combining submission with reckless defiance.

"Cecily?" I croaked.

"Hush," Deerhurst spoke first. "I am not finished. Be patient a moment more."

The warmth continued to spread. It reached the top of my head and trickled down my arms into my fingertips. I wiggled them experimentally. No pain.

"How—?" I asked.

He chuckled, "Hush, I said. This is the least I could do for you."

He lifted his hands and stepped back as I swung my legs over the edge of the table and sat up. I flexed my shoulders. Still no pain. Did I imagine it all? I looked behind me and saw two large pools of blood staining the carpet. The liquid had left the outline of a leg and a— I looked away.

I felt uncomfortable sitting on the table. I hopped off to the ground and looked at Deerhurst.

"Any pain?" he asked like a family doctor.

"No."

"Good. It has been a while since I have practiced on a human. For your sake I am glad that I have not lost my touch."

I rubbed my arm in remembered pain. "What happened?"

"Before or after Dusana tried to kill you?" Cecily spat.

Deerhurst raised his hand to quiet her. "Peace. It was a fair test and within the law. As is also my healing." He turned back to me, "I regret to inform you that your request to join the USB has been denied."

My eyes prickled with tears but I kept a steady voice, I remembered enough of what had happened to know where this was going. "Why?"

"The Code states that one being cannot be admitted as a species. You, my dear, are perhaps a fluke. An aberration. If you could bring us another human with like magical ability, it would be enough to re-open your case."

I took a breath, "What will happen to humans?"

He frowned, "That is still a tricky subject. Had you succeeded in your application it would have swayed the issue greatly. As it is," he sighed. "I don't know. There is much fear among the USB. We will see if common sense or panic will prevail."

"So, what now?" I asked angrily. "What do I do now? Just go home and wait to be eaten by someone?"

"There is that choice."

"What if I tell people about all of this? There are _billions_ of us! You think we couldn't wipe you out?"

His eyes swirled with red and black and yellow. I stood staring into them, mesmerized in fear. "That would be a mistake." He blinked and they were back to normal. "Think of your family, and do nothing that would require us to act against you."

Cecily was poised, ready for action at my back. She quivered with suppressed motion, whether of attack or flight, I didn't know.

"Piper," she pleaded.

I sighed. "Don't worry. I won't do anything stupid." I looked around the empty room. "I'd like to go home now."

She nodded. "Thank you, Chairman," she said politely.

I turned back to him. "Yes. Thank you. I guess I wasn't in too great a shape and you fixed me. Thank you for that."

He nodded and I stepped back and then paused. "Okay," I couldn't help it, I was curious, "I _really_ would like to know one thing. What is a Naga?"

He smiled at me and walked around the table into the center of the room. I blinked and a huge, green and blue scaled dragon stood before me. Its eyes were swirling pinwheels of red, black, and yellow. Its teeth were the length of my arm. Gigantic, leathery wings stretched back from its shoulders. It was big, and scary and reptilian, and yet the most beautiful and graceful thing I had ever seen. I took an involuntary step towards it and in another blink it was gone and Deerhurst was standing there again, the musky smell from earlier slowly fading from my senses.

"Oh," I said.

He lifted his hand in silent farewell and walked out the door. My ears popped again as if a change in pressure had occurred. I looked at Cecily.

"The Bast has renewed the magic damper. She held it off after the meeting was over so that Deerhurst could heal you."

"Oh," I said again. I looked around the room, feeling lost.

"Piper?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm, um, I'm glad you're okay."

I remembered her voice yelling, pleading, for my life. I tried not to get angry at her. She wasn't one of the bad guys. At least, not _totally_ one of the bad guys.

"What was the point?" I asked flatly.

"What?"

"The point. What was it all for?" She still looked puzzled. "I was shot at, locked in a closet, that poor man _died,_ I was almost sacrificed in a Satanic ritual, and just about died myself in a vampire attack. I killed someone, Cecily. Not to defend myself, not because I had to, but just to prove a point. I _murdered_ him."

"Umm. Not really," she answered.

"What?"

"Not really. You see, you didn't kill him, because even if you did, you couldn't, because he was already dead, and you can't kill something that's already dead, you can just more, umm, _dead_ , it. But anyway, you didn't, because he isn't."

I sat down heavily in one of the chairs and stared at her. "That made no sense whatsoever."

She rolled her eyes. "I know. Sorry. It's hard to explain. You didn't kill Matthew."

"Why not?"

"You _started_ the killing process. But you didn't finish it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"To kill one of us you have to remove our head, and then burn us. Otherwise..." she trailed off.

"Otherwise, what?"

"Otherwise, we, umm, come back."

"You come back?"

"Yeah. It's not fun. And it will take him a while. But, he's not dead. I mean, he _is_ , but not the way you think."

I thought about that for a moment. "You mean there is a homicidal vampire out there who has good reason to hate my guts and who is going to heal one day and come looking for me?"

"Umm, no."

"No, he's not out there, or no he's not coming looking for me?"

"The looking part. It was a fair contest. Had he killed you there would have been no repercussions against him either. You won. It's over with. He moves on."

I stared at her. "Either vampires are nothing like humans or you are _really_ naive."

She shrugged, "If he comes after you he would be breaking the Code and his maker would reprimand him. Severely."

"Ooh. A severe reprimand. How horrible. That makes me feel tons safer." I felt my anger rising.

"It _is_ horrible. And it takes a lot longer than a simple staking to come back from."

"Swell. Whatever. Back to my first point. What was the point?"

"I—"

I cut her off. "You _what_? You _nothing_! I risked my _life_ yesterday for those werewolves and Fairies. My life! And that homeless guy _lost_ his life! _And_ what did we get out of it? You told me that they would vote for me! You, who by the way, are a vampire, and whose people just tried to _whack_ me!" I was yelling at this point. "So I'm not so sure why I should be trusting you at this point!"

She mumbled something.

"What?" I yelled. "I can't hear you."

Cecily looked up and met my gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it would turn out like this. I'm sorry."

Just like that the wind was taken out of my sails. I felt empty, drained, and defeated. I shrugged and slowly stood. "I know. It's not your fault. Thanks."

"For what?"

"For saving my life."

"Deerhurst saved your life."

"Yeah, but I heard you yelling at him. He wouldn't have done it if you hadn't made him."

Her mouth twitched. "I yelled at him," she said in awe.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And now I know why that isn't such a good idea. Thanks."

She shrugged, embarrassed. "Hey, it was the least I could do."

I looked around the room one more time. I had a feeling I would be revisiting this place in my nightmares. "I'd like to go home now."

I looked down at my sticky, bloodstained shirt. From the direction of the stains I probably had blood on my face as well. I didn't want to think about the amount of internal bleeding that would produce those stains and the puddle on the floor. I felt fine. Tired, freaked out, but fine.

"Now what?" I asked helplessly.

"You don't happen to know another human with mental powers do you?"

"Let me think," I said sarcastically. "Nope."

"Well then," she answered, "now I take you home and you try to pretend none of this happened."

"That would be nice," I sighed. "Fine. Let's go home. But first, I need another shirt."

# Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Nice shirt," Mark noticed when I got home. He had arrived home early and somehow gotten his mother to leave. My hero. Seriously.

I looked down at my t-shirt. It read "I suspect Nargles are behind it." I had no idea what a Nargle was or what they would be behind. It was the only shirt for less than ten bucks at the convention.

"Umm. Yeah," I answered intelligently.

He and Megan and Cassidy were snuggling on the couch reading story books. "I need to go get a shower. Can you hold down the fort?"

He waved me off, "What does it look like I'm doing? By the way, my mom was worried that you are working too hard and left dinner for us."

I glowered. "Is that really what she said?"

He smiled mischievously, "Of course not. But that's what she meant."

"What did she really say?"

"She said that balanced nutrition was important and she wanted her grandchildren to eat something that didn't come out of the microwave at least once in a blue moon."

I made a face. "I cook!" I tried to remember the last time I'd cooked something on the stove.

"I know, honey," Mark said soothingly. "Now go get a shower and I'll have dinner on the table when you get out."

"She's evil," I growled under my breath.

"Who's evil, Mommy?" Megan wanted to know.

"No one, baby."

"Granny? You think Granny is evil?"

"No!" I cried, "I didn't say that! And you should never repeat what someone says to anyone else."

"Why not, Mommy?"

"Yeah," said Mark, causing trouble, "Why not?"

"Because," I said haughtily, "because I say so." With that winning comment I exited to the shower.

After all the excitement of the last few days, the evening was blessedly normal. We ate dinner. Megan and Cassidy got in a fight over who got to brush their teeth first. We had an incident with a dead spider in the hallway that turned out to _not_ be dead and scared the living daylights out of me. I had to calm the girls down and explain that while Mommy might scream and run around the house when a spider jumped on her foot that didn't mean that spiders were scary or bad, just that Mommy didn't care for them.

"You're going to give them nightmares," Mark whispered as he carefully scooped the spider up in a napkin and deposited it outside. I would have killed it; he was way too soft-hearted. But then, it hadn't jumped on _his_ foot. Barefoot too, I might add.

We did baths and bedtime stories, and then hugs and kisses, then last sips of water, then more hugs and kisses, then trips to the potty, then more hugs and kisses, then threats that if anyone got out of bed for any reason the consequences would be dire.

Finally we were alone. Sitting on the couch, snuggled up together, my head on his shoulder. In spite of everything, I was happy. I was loved, and cherished, I had a wonderful husband and two daughters who were the joy of my life. What was there not to be happy about?

Well, my stupid brain replied, there's the fact that you've been lying to your husband for years. In the last two days, you lied a bunch more, and snuck around breaking the law and almost getting killed, and you _still_ haven't told him that ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night are real. I sighed, happiness melting away before a tsunami of worry and guilt.

"What's wrong, babe?" Mark asked, rubbing my neck. "You still worried about your sister?"

Sarah. Man. I hadn't even thought about her today.

"Yeah," I lied again. "I just feel like I should do something." Ok. That wasn't a lie. I _did_ feel like I should do something.

"I thought it turned out to be a case of mistaken identity?"

"The drinking and driving thing, yeah. But you saw her the other night. I can't believe that my parents know she is dressing like that and _behaving_ like that with boys!"

"What?" Mark sounded puzzled. "Did I miss something? What other night?"

"You know, at the coffee shop. She is _way_ too young to be making out with boys! And she was dressed like a gothic whore!"

Mark sat back and looked at me. "What are you talking about?"

"The other night, at the coffee shop, after the movie, when we ran into Sarah and her boyfriend."

"Piper? What are you talking about? We didn't see Sarah the other night." He looked genuinely worried.

I stared at him, mouth hanging open. How could he not remember?

Suddenly I felt like a bolt of lightning hit my brain and fired simultaneous connections between multiple memories. He didn't remember seeing Sarah at the coffee shop. Mrs. Starr changed her story after Sarah went by to talk to her. My parents never seemed to remember Sarah doing anything wrong or dressing inappropriately. I'd always thought that they were just more lenient since they were getting older, but... Holy Crap. Sarah had mental abilities.

# Chapter Twenty-Eight

I don't know how I got out of the house, or what I said to Mark to convince him that I wasn't going crazy. All I know is that I was in the car and on the way over to my parents' house within five minutes of my epiphany.

What in the world would I say to her? Did she know that she had a special ability? Was she using it on purpose? Would she believe me when I tried to explain that the fate of mankind depended on her and me? Did she really even _have_ an ability or was I just making this up because I wanted it to be true so badly? I would find out soon enough.

My heart was in my throat as I knocked on the front door. Be home, be home, be home, I chanted silently. The door opened.

"Piper," Sarah said flatly. Come to think of it, we hadn't been on great terms lately. Maybe I should have spent more time worrying about whether she hated me still and less about her abilities.

"Sarah," I said cautiously. "We need to talk."

She blocked the door by leaning casually against the doorframe. "We need to talk? I don't think we have anything to talk about."

"Come on, Sarah," I begged, "Let me in. This is important."

"Important, like embarrassing me in front of my friends and tattling on me to Mom and Dad?"

I winced, "Look Sarah, I'm sorry about all that. But I really do need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

She frowned but stepped back and stalked into the living room. She flopped angrily on the loveseat and glared at me. I closed the door behind me and chose a seat facing her. "I don't know how to begin," I said lamely.

Sarah yawned and studied her fingernails. "Is this going to take long? I was going to meet some friends at the movies in a bit."

I felt my anger flare up and tried to stuff it back down. "Yeah, this is going to take some time. You might want to cancel that movie."

She raised one eyebrow at me, "And just _why_ would I want to cancel a movie for _you_?"

Okay. Not going so great. Guess Mark was right all those times he told me I needed to work on my relationship with her. I decided to skip the small talk and dive in. Problem was, I wasn't entirely sure that I was right. Was it fair to tell her about all the scary things out there if she _didn't_ have an ability and didn't need to know? On the other hand, if humans started to be the menu item of choice, she'd find out soon enough.

I decided to ease my way in after all, "I was talking to Mark tonight," I started.

"Oh joy," she deadpanned.

I plowed on, trying to ignore the impulse to smack her upside the head. "He didn't remember seeing you at the coffee shop the other night."

If I hadn't been watching closely I wouldn't have seen the almost imperceptible tensing of her body. "What coffee shop?" she asked.

I grinned, relief flooding through me. She might as well have tacked a neon sign to her head that said "Guilty, guilty, guilty." As a mother I was good at detecting guilt symptoms, and she was broadcasting loud and clear.

"It doesn't work on me, Sarah," I smiled. "Just like I doubt my power works on you."

She just stared. I couldn't help smiling. "Man, Sarah! Why didn't you _tell_ me?" I saw her face change and answered my own stupid question, "Okay. I know why you didn't tell me. I've not been the greatest big sister in the world. In fact, I've been a real pain in the butt. I've been bossy, and overbearing, and judgmental, and I am _so_ sorry! If I had been a little nicer maybe you could have told me what you were going through."

She sat up straight and said cautiously, "What do you think I'm going through?"

I moved over to join her on the couch. She let me take her hand so maybe things weren't as bad between us as I thought. "You have some sort of mind control, don't you?"

She looked torn between pretending that I was crazy and laughing at me, and really wanting to know how I knew. "What are you talking about?"

"Look," I said earnestly, "I do too."

"You do what?"

"I can control people with my Voice. If I command someone to do something, they have to do it. I think yours must be a little different. How does it work?"

She looked at the ground and seemed to be struggling with a decision. "Why should I talk to you about any of this? Even if any of it is true, which I'm not saying it is."

I squeezed her hand, "Because, I'm your _sister_ , and I love you, and these last few days I've discovered things about our world that I never knew were there, and you need to know them too. I _need_ you, Sarah. I was more _hoping_ that you had ability than sure of it. I need your help, _badly_."

She looked at me for the first time in ages without a sneer on her face. "You need my help?"

"Yeah, you have no idea. And I am so sorry to mix you up in all of this, but I have to, and I know that you are strong enough to deal with it."

"What stuff?"

"Can you just tell me about your ability first? And when you found out about it? I really want to know. And then I will tell you everything."

"Okay," she said slowly. "I can control people's memories. I just tweak the part I need to change and leave the rest of it alone. I found out a couple of years ago. Dad caught me sneaking out of the house one night and he said it was too late to yell about it so he would talk to me in the morning. I wanted so badly for him to forget it ever happened, and the next morning he had totally forgotten all about it. I thought it was a fluke, but I tried again, and it worked again."

She looked at me and made an apologetic grimace, "Mrs. Starr really did see me drinking and driving the other night."

"Oh, Sarah," I gave her hug, "it's okay. I mean, it's not ok that you're drinking and driving, or even drinking at all, I want you to be safe, but it's okay to tell me things. I promise that I will do my best to stop acting like your mother and start acting like your sister instead."

"Well, you do make a better sister than mother," she grinned.

"Humph," I grunted, "I hope Megan and Cassidy don't agree with you."

"Yeah, well, maybe you're a good mother to them. I just mean, _I_ like you better as a sister than a mother."

"I like you as a sister too," I said.

"So, what did you need me for?"

I made a face, "This is going to be so hard to explain. I don't even know where to begin."

"Start at the beginning and work your way through to the end. That's how I usually do it," my smart-aleck sister said.

"Well," I thought for a moment, "Let me make a phone call first. There's somebody who can explain things a little better than me."

I dialed Cecily's number and was not too horribly surprised when I heard the sound of a phone ringing outside the living room window.

"Hello?" Cecily said quietly.

"Uh-huh," I said. "You might want to put your phone on silent when you're spying on someone."

"Oh give me a break!" she exclaimed, "four years on Observer Duty and I make _one_ little mistake and get criticized for it!"

"Yeah. Whatever. So, what did you hear?"

"Nothing, I was just getting in a good position. What's going on? More Sarah trouble?"

"You might say that," I looked over at Sarah and winked at her, "Sarah is uniquely gifted and can help in our present difficulty."

"Oh," said Cecily, "Oh! Ok then. I'll be right in."

There was a knock at the door. Once again I was amazed at how fast she got from the backyard to the front. Sarah looked confused but followed me to the door.

"Hey, Cecily," I greeted her. "Come on in."

She took a step forward and stopped at the threshold.

"Not your house, Piper," she said.

I turned to Sarah, "You have to invite her in."

"Why?" Sarah was completely lost at this point.

I took a big breath, "Because she's a vampire and they can't enter a home without being invited first."

"Yeah right." Sarah was clearly skeptical.

Cecily smiled a shark eating grin with elongated canines and huge dark pupils that made the whites of her eyes disappear. Sarah stumbled back in shock.

"It's okay," I tried to reassure her. "Cecily's a friend. Invite her in."

" _Vampires_ , Piper!?" Sarah shrieked.

"I know. It's a lot to take in. But there's _way_ more and if we don't get started it's going to take me all night to explain and I need to get back before Mark wonders what happened to me."

"He knows about all this?"

I looked down, embarrassed, "No. I haven't told him," I added a "yet," on the end but I didn't really believe it.

Sarah took a shaky breath. "Ok, but I hope you know what you are doing." She turned back to the door where Cecily was patiently waiting. "Please come in."

# Chapter Twenty-Nine

It was a lot harder to explain than I thought. After all, I had seen it, felt it, heard it, and (in the case of some of the odder creatures) smelt it. Sarah was coming to this cold. Although she had to admit the existence of her own powers, taking the leap from that to Grimm's Fairy Tales was a pretty big jump.

It helped that she remembered the vampire that had been sent to check her out. When my powers had been discovered, the USB had periodically sent agents to see if anyone else in my family would manifest an ability. What they failed to take into account was that Sarah could alter memories. She didn't know that the substitute teacher at her school was a vampire, but she had been caught using her ability by him and had, in turn, cleared his memory of the event, and sent him on his way thinking that she was completely normal. It had obviously worked.

In the end, I had her at least partially understanding and believing that this wasn't some sort of elaborate prank. She didn't quite come to the same conclusions as I did.

"So," she tried to recap, "aliens are coming that no one knows anything about. Certain people want to be able to harvest humans for power before the aliens arrive. You and I are the only humans we know of that have 'magical powers.'" She put the last two words in finger quotes. "Since there are two of us, we can petition to join this big magic group and gain protection for ourselves and probably the rest of humans on the planet." I nodded as she frowned, started to speak, stopped, rethought, and then decided to say it anyways.

"Piper, am I missing something here? Why is this such a big deal? Why not join as our own species?"

I stared at her, "Because we're human!"

"No we're not! We're some kind of genetic freaks! Freaks with awesome mind control powers! Think about what we could do! Anything we want! We can be rich! Crazy rich!"

Cecily cleared her throat, "Actually, you can't. Or at least, you can as long as you do not endanger other supernatural creatures. We work very hard to stay undercover and completely off the radar. Anyone who threatens that security is dealt with. Permanently."

Sarah shrugged, "Okay. So we do it quietly. But I still don't get the problem. You tell people what to do, I alter their memory so that we're all safe. What's the catch?"

I heard my voice rising in anger, "The catch! Did you not _hear_ me earlier? You use your power too much and you could turn immortal!"

"Yeah. So?"

"So?" I was hitting upper octaves at this point, "Immortal, Sarah! As in, never dying, as in, never growing old, as in, watching everyone you know and love grow old and die while you are still young, as in, having to move all the time so that no one notices that you don't age, or risk the government locking you up in a laboratory and being studied like a rat!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know what immortal means, Piper. I just don't see what the big deal is."

Were this a cartoon, my head would have turned bright red, rotated 360 degrees, while my eyes popped out in anger and frustration and steam poured from my ears. As it was, I think I managed the color and the steam.

"Do you want Mom and Dad to be killed and eaten by something? Do you not _care_ what happens to your nieces? How can you not think about the rest of the world out there? We're _human_! And I intend to die a human as well."

"That's just it, Piper. I don't want to die! I think living forever sounds great! And no, I won't let anything happen to our family. We protect our family, of course, but who cares about everyone else? Would they think about _us_? It's every woman for herself, Piper, and we hit the genetic jackpot!"

I shook my head, "No, you're wrong, Sarah. You haven't seen the things I have seen in the last few days. There are things out there that _cannot_ be allowed to do whatever they want to people. And right now, you and I are the only way to keep them in check. Cecily?" I turned to her for support.

She thought for a long minute. "Piper, I see Sarah's point." She held up her hand to silence my interjection. "You both have a gift, you should use them. Whether you use them to protect other people or not, that's up to each of you. Morals, ethics, argue those out later. Right now you are both weak and in danger from stronger species. There are only two of you. You join as a new species and someone else is going to try to wipe you out."

"I thought this magic thing protected everyone?" Sarah asked.

"The USB's primary job is to police the magic community, yes. But a crime is something that risks humans discovering supernatural beings. I could go on a killing spree and kill everyone in this town, and as long as I covered it up so that it looked completely 'normal,' then the USB would have no problem with me."

Sarah and I both stared at her with open mouths.

Cecily grinned, "Ok, bad example. There is no way I could kill everyone here and not have _someone_ be suspicious, and the USB and the vampires don't like people running around as mass murderers. You might be able to cover it up once, but if you tried it again there would be greater risk, and generally we don't wait for future risks. We take care of problems before they arise, if you know what I mean."

"So what are you saying?" Sarah asked.

"I'm saying this. You need to join as humans. Piper here has done a good job of insuring that the Synod will vote you in. If humans are members of the USB then they can't be mass hunted for power. Things will have to stay as they are. We stay hidden, humans stay mostly safe, but completely in the dark."

"What about the aliens?" I wanted to know.

"Who knows? They could be friendly beings looking for galactic trade routes. Or they could be coming to wipe us out and set up house here, in which case, none of this really matters. We'll all have to deal with that when the day comes. For now, my advice to both of you is to join as humans and let tomorrow take care of itself. I would also recommend finding more people like yourselves."

"What?" I said surprised.

"You can't be the only two out there. If there are two, then, chances are, there are more of you. The more there are, the safer you will be. The witches do not think kindly of you and, as long as it is in their best interest, they will kill you without mercy."

Sarah and I looked at each other. "What do you think?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Okay. I agree for now. I'll come with you and we can join this thing. I'll keep under the radar, but I'm not going to stop using my ability."

I grinned and sighed at the same time, which pretty much summed up how I was feeling, "Deal."

# Epilogue

So we did it. Sarah's test of her abilities was way easier than mine. She didn't almost die. From the big sister standpoint I was happy about that. From the "why me?" standpoint I was a little annoyed.

The werewolves and the Seelie Fae kept their word and voted "yes" for us. The UnSeelie Fae voted "no," not a surprise. The vampires also voted "no," a slight surprise, and Deerhurst, the Naga, voted "yes," big surprise. I guess we had a connection, what with my almost dying and him saving my life and all.

Like any governmental institution, we were informed of our "tax requirement" before the ink was even dry on our membership papers. That caused a bit of a ruckus as the UnSeelie thought we should be taxed for _all_ of mankind, and I pointed out that Midas himself didn't have that much money, and was then informed that he _did_ , he was just in retirement.

They eventually had to settle on being able to call on us for odd jobs. Our two skill sets could be very handy in covering up any magical faux pas. There was no way I would be able to, (or _want_ to, for that matter) sneak money out of Mark's and my bank account without him noticing, and Sarah was underage and jobless, so no great income source there.

Working for the USB was not an ideal situation, but it beat a lot of the alternatives. I knew it would mean more lying. The lying part didn't bother Sarah at all, but it made me feel horrible. I think it was the difference in ages. She was still young enough to believe herself invincible. She would never die, get hurt, lose someone she loved, or get caught. I, on the other hand, was far more pessimistic in my old age. I'd been seriously hurt, almost died, and knew that one day Mark would find out. It wasn't a question of "if," it was a question of "when." And _when_ he did, would I lose him?

Fortunately for me, I am completely human. I can rationalize, justify, excuse, ignore, and, when push comes to shove, _forget_ , any little fact that bothers me. I decided, along with Scarlett, to think about it tomorrow.

Later that night, after the girls were in bed, I tried to make it all up to Mark. As we lay there afterwards, snuggling under the covers, I realized that there was no point in worrying. The world could end tomorrow, but for right now, I was totally and completely happy. Of course that's when my phone rang.

"Piper?" it was Cecily.

"Yeah," I yawned. I threw on a robe and tiptoed into the living room so as not to wake Mark.

"Umm, I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"It's about that statue you retrieved."

"Yeah?" I yawned again.

"Umm, how can I put this?"

"I don't know," I said, "why don't you quit beating around the bush, tell me whatever it is you think is important enough to call me in the middle of the night about, and let me go back to bed."

"Well, it's like this," she paused, "umm, you haven't, _you know_ , with Mark, have you?"

"What?" I was confused, "Told him? No, I haven't told him anything."

"No, not told him. It's just, umm, well, it was a _fertility_ statue."

"Yeah, I know. That's why the weres and Fae wanted it. What's your point?"

"Well, I was talking to Jonathan and it seems that it can have a sort of _proximity_ effect."

"Proximity effect?" I was totally awake now.

"Yes."

"As in, just by being around it?"

"Yes."

"As in, just by holding it, maybe?"

"Yes."

"Cecily!" I almost yelled.

"I know, I know. That's why I called you. I thought you should know."

"I already _have_ two kids, Cecily!"

"I know. Don't worry. They don't know how long the effect lasts. You could be fine!"

I groaned and hung up on her, then smacked my forehead a couple of times with the phone. Then, I crept quietly into my daughters' room and watched them sleeping.

Megan had both arms thrown wide and was softly snoring. Cassidy was tucked up in a ball with her butt up in the air and her thumb in her mouth. They looked like little angels.

I almost yelped when Mark slid an arm around me from behind.

"They're wonderful aren't they?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

"We're so lucky," he kissed the back of my neck.

"Mark?"

"MmmHmm?" he was nibbling my ear lobe.

"Do you want more?"

"More what?"

"Kids."

"Do you?"

I thought about it, "I don't know. I just get scared sometimes, not knowing what's going to happen in the future."

He kissed me again. "Piper, life is an adventure, and kids are the greatest adventure of all. So, I say, bring it on!"

The End

The Rhine Maiden Series:

Don't Rhine on My Parade

 It Never Rhines But It Pours

A Little Rhine Must Fall

Rhine, Rhine, Go Away

and

_Rhinebows and Unicorns_ (Summer 2013)

Other Books by Erin Evans:

Food for Love: A Magical Romance

Connect with Erin Evans

Follow  The Rhine Maiden Series on Facebook

Don't Rhine on My Parade:

Piper Cavanaugh is The Rhine Maiden, a descendent of the sirens who lured sailors to their deaths with beautiful singing. After vowing never to use her supernatural power of command, she is more than happy to stay at home with her two little girls, but one tiny slip-up and her secret has come back to bite her – literally. Now she must win permission to join the United Supernatural Beings, or it's open hunting season on all of humanity. While juggling toddlers, keeping her husband in the dark, and babysitting her rebellious kid sister, Piper finds herself befriending a vampire, stealing from murderous witches, and doing battle with Satan, otherwise known as her mother-in-law. And she thought grocery shopping with her kids was hard!

It Never Rhines But It Pours:

Rhine maiden, Piper Cavanaugh, is on the job as a Guardian hit-man, but can she execute an innocent witch? When she discovers her target has been framed, Piper must find the true killer or risk losing her job – and her life. As she sorts through a dwindling number of suspects, Piper tries to keep her trigger-happy vampire friend in line, fix a back-fired spell, deal with some unwanted house guests, and still find time to mother her two toddlers. With every use of her power of command bringing her closer to immortality, Piper soon realizes, it never "rhines" but it pours!

A Little Rhine Must Fall:

Rhine Maiden, Piper Cavanaugh, is no stranger to unusual houseguests, but an alien and an Egyptian goddess might be more than even _she_ can handle. Throw in a homicidal vampire bent on revenge, and a pushy mother-in-law bent on redecorating, and Piper's world is in turmoil. With her life crumbling around her, and the future of mankind in the balance, Piper must reveal her secret ability and risk losing everything she holds dear.

Rhine, Rhine, Go Away:

There's nothing like a relaxing vacation, and that's just what Piper is having – nothing like a relaxing vacation. When work delays Mark, a heavily pregnant Piper takes Megan and Cassidy to the beach with Sarah along to "help." But Piper is all at sea when her daughters turn into mermaids, leaving her with little time to figure out how to switch them back before her husband arrives on the weekend. Drowning in troubles caused by a greedy carnival owner, a missing mer-prince, and a crafty Sea Witch, Piper soon finds herself in over her head!

Rhinebows and Unicorns:

Megan and Cassidy are thrilled with their new pet unicorn. Piper? Not so much. And when the annoying beast is joined by other "cryptids," Piper vows to make finding a new home for them a priority...right after she saves a young, incompetent witch from the WAND, provides parental advice to the Naga Chairman of the Synod, and tries to keep Leo's wedding planning from ruining Annabeth's big day. All this while feeding, changing diapers, and enjoying cuddle time with her new baby boy. Even though Piper's "To Do" List is full, one item needs to be added to the top – telling Mark the truth about her double life. But is it too late?

(Release Date: Summer 2013)

Food for Love:

If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach then it's no wonder that Cordelia McKellen is still single.

The McKellen family is known for their culinary artistry with one exception: Cordelia is a disaster in the kitchen. Burnt, undercooked, inedible—she's ruined recipes in more ways than she can count and has decided that she vastly prefers banging at the piano to banging pot and pans in the kitchen (much to the annoyance of her hot new neighbor). But when the terms of her great aunt's will are read, Cordelia must put aside her music to become a successful chef or forfeit her inheritance.

With the help of her best friend, Cordelia sets out to conquer the catering world, relying heavily on a secret gift from her great aunt: a mysterious chafing dish that brings new meaning to the term "creative cooking." Magical or not, catering is harder than Cordelia dreamed and her scrumptious neighbor is becoming increasingly distracting. Can this fast-food loving pianist win her inheritance and find true love or will she wind up with egg on her face?

A delicious romance, stuffed with Cordelia's unique and hilarious recipes, _Food for Love_ is a tasty treat for foodies and non-foodies alike!

# Sneak Peek:

# Food for Love
Chapter One:

Food.

We all need it. We all eat it.

For some, it is the pinnacle of existence: the breath of creation and the highest form of enjoyment in life. For some, it is temptation: the forbidden fruit that hangs tantalizing within easy reach, promising instant gratification and instant pounds. For others, it is survival: the fuel that keeps the body going; each and every calorie is studied and dissected to create maximum balanced nutrition with usually minimum taste.

And then there are people like me. We like to eat, but we really don't care that much about what we put in our mouth. A double cheeseburger off the Dollar Menu is just as appetizing as filet mignon from Ruth's Chris, not to mention a whole lot cheaper.

I truly believe that most people are like me. They have to be. Otherwise I couldn't call myself "normal." It's those passionate people, the "foodies," or the health nuts, who are weird. I mean, come on, people! It's just food, right? Who cares if the cow was fed organic grass, and massaged every day while listening to Beethoven, before it was whacked over the head and chopped up into steaks? I don't. I just want to eat it.

I might sound a little defensive on the subject, and for good reason. I grew up in a family of food fanatics. Our food-worshipping mother served everything from _andouillette_ to _zabaglione_ , somehow totally leaving out childhood staples like pizza, or chicken nuggets and french fries. I still clearly remember the first time I had peanut butter. A new babysitter had been hired to watch us children while my parents drove over to Orlando for a fancy dress dinner. She apparently had been warned by a previous babysitter that there was nothing "normal" to eat in the house and had brought her own dinner. My older siblings turned up their well-trained noses at such plebian fare, but I was entranced.

Perhaps I do have more of my family's genes than I care to admit. At the young age of eight I became a peanut butter gourmand. A friend at school supplied me with my illegal substance and for a solid month I ate the heavenly ambrosia straight out of the jar at night, hidden beneath my bed, enjoying each and every sticky spoonful.

Of course, my older sister ratted me out, and my horrified mother quickly rid the house of my addiction, giving me multiple lectures on the dangers of saturated fats, and trying to tempt my palate with more refined tastes.

It was no use. I simply did not care about food the way the rest of my family seemed to. I think now that my mother was always trying to live up to the family name. My father's aunt, my Great Aunt Eleanor, was a famous chef and author of numerous cookbooks. Oddly enough, even with my older sister, who graduated from college with a culinary degree, and my older brother, who could name and date wine like Lord Peter Wimsey, I was the favorite great-niece.

Great Aunt Eleanor and I had a bond that went beyond food. As a child, I couldn't have cared less about the sales numbers on her latest cookbook or the glowing (or crushing) reviews on her latest restaurant. I enjoyed playing on her kitchen floor with delicious smells wafting from the oven, but I preferred Toll House cookies to _coq au vin_.

Surprisingly enough, it was Great Aunt Eleanor who supported my choice to _not_ follow the rest of the family, to branch out on my own and get a degree in... gasp! Horror! _Music._

"But, _darling,_ " my mother pleaded, "what will you _do_ with a music degree?"

"There's no work in the music field," my brother said, looking condescendingly over the edge of his wine glass.

"How will you meet an eligible husband?" my sister wailed, having gotten her degree _and_ an M.R.S. at the same time.

"Did you get a scholarship?" my practical father wanted to know.

I argued until I was blue in the face. There were plenty of jobs in the music industry. (I couldn't really name any, other than "concert pianist," at the time, but I was sure there were tons.) A determined person like myself would have no problem getting a job. (Again, a belief based more on hope than anything else.) I wasn't interested in finding a husband and since our family was extremely wealthy, I didn't see why _I_ should have to get a scholarship while my siblings had their degrees covered by Bank of Dad.

Dad pointed out that he had money because he didn't waste it on frivolous things. I snapped back that my sister's culinary degree wasn't doing anyone any good except for her husband. Mom broke down into tears at the thought of a child _not_ studying the goddess Food, and it was Great Aunt Eleanor who saved the day by staunchly backing my musical desires and even offering to pay for my schooling. The last was a clever piece of reverse psychology on her part as Dad would sooner die than have people think that he couldn't provide for his own children.

I got my Bachelor's in Piano and was the first McKellen to eat every meal in the college cafeteria and actually _enjoy_ it. I also discovered that a love of music, a determined attitude, and hours of practice were still not enough to get one hired as a concert pianist. Since that had been my only goal, I was a little at a loss after graduation. I didn't want to move back home. My sister, Kristyn, was on to cooking up baby number three. My brother, Tom, was deep in marriage planning with his fiancé, and the thought of being seen as "poor Cordelia," slinking home with her tail between her legs to mooch off of Mom and Dad was _not_ happening.

I _did_ move back to my home town. I was proud, but I wasn't stupid. Living in the same town as my parents meant that I would never starve and I could count on new articles of clothing appearing in my closet, courtesy of my mother.

I rented a small two bedroom apartment in the cheapest area of town and breathed a financial sigh of relief when a college friend agreed to come and share the rent with me. Charlene was a pharmaceutical rep, which, as far as I could tell, meant that she dressed in nice, if slightly skanky, clothing, drove around to doctors' offices with a black leather, rolling suitcase, and got taken out to lunch by every young, single doctor in the area (and quite a few that were neither).

I also got a job. It was even a job in my field, as I proudly pointed out to my mother, hoping that she would never decide to drop by and see where I worked. It was hard to sell the words "Music World" as a classy educational training facility, but I glossed over the long hours, the crappy pay, and the snotty young students, and instead focused on how glorious it was to train up the younger generation in the love and appreciation of the piano.

I tried to remind myself of those glories as I trudged up the two flights of stairs to my apartment after a long day of teaching. Why had I ever thought I would enjoy teaching piano? I had started the job with visions of molding young minds and expanding horizons, of getting to spend every day at the keyboard, my favorite place on earth. The truth was a rude wake-up call.

My day had started with siblings Colin and Alyssa, who had not touched their piano all week long. My gentle suggestions to their mother that they spend _at least_ 15 minutes a day in practice had fallen on deaf ears. We spent the entire hour lesson going over the exact same material that we had covered the week before, and the week previous to that, and the week previous to that.

Their mother, a flakey blond who spent the lesson time on her iPhone, had the gall to suggest at the end that her little darlings were not progressing as quickly as she expected and perhaps she should switch to another teacher in the studio.

I gritted my teeth and smiled. I would _love_ to pass the little horrors off to another teacher, but Colin and Alyssa had already been through all the piano teachers on staff and had been passed off to me as the "new girl," who still needed to build up a student base.

I couldn't really complain. We made minimum wage per hour plus 50% of lesson fees. I _needed_ Colin and Alyssa if I was going to make my half of the rent each month, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. I fully planned to continue the tradition of camaraderie at Music World and give my problem students to the next new piano teacher who came along. Given the turnover rate, that shouldn't be too far in the future.

My next student for the day was a four year-old boy with a mother who was _positive_ that she had birthed a musical prodigy. She held this belief although he showed no interest whatsoever in the piano and I spent the entire half hour lesson chasing him around the room and sitting him firmly back on the bench. Three months of this had taught him that there were white keys and black keys and that when you hit them, they made sound.

Students four, five, and six were nondescript. They at least knew the difference between a quarter-note and a half-note and sometimes could even be persuaded to play them in the correct rhythm.

I got a fifteen minute lunch break, which I usually enjoyed in the privacy of my car, playing Mozart over the stereo system and enjoying a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Today had been one of my favorite days of the week, since I had three Korean students in the early afternoon. Their parents forced them to practice an hour a day and they always came totally prepared and ready for the lesson. I had to be very careful in my correction since the slightest rebuke would send them spiraling down into despair, while praise rolled off their backs as meaningless hyperbole of which they were not worthy.

Their mothers insisted on sitting in the lesson room and each took copious notes, the better to reprimand their children with later. The atmosphere was always tense, but at least we were actually making music.

I had rounded out the day with a collection of bored teenagers, distracted kids unable to sit still, and even an adult man whom I was afraid was more there to spend time with me than to actually learn the piano.

All in all, I was beat. The air conditioner at the studio had been on the fritz and I was hot and sweaty with nerves worn to the quick. I wished, as I did every day, that I had been able to afford an apartment with an elevator, or at least one on the ground floor. I'd promised myself that all the stair climbing would make my legs supermodel firm and sexy. Since that had yet to happen, I was feeling cheated.

I fumbled with the keys and entered my home with a sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but it was mine. Paid for by me. Mom and Dad had wanted to set me up in a townhouse as a graduation present, but I had refused. I wanted to make it on my own. Silly, maybe, but it was still the way I felt.

Charlene was gone and had a left a note on the fridge. "Out to dinner with a client. Money for rent and food on the counter. Didn't have time to go to the grocery store. Sorry!"

I sighed. Part of our roommate deal was alternating weeks to the grocery store. Neither one of us wanted to do the shopping and took every opportunity to wiggle out of our week. Charlene was always on some crazy fad diet, her latest being protein shakes and energy drinks which she had purchased in bulk, so she was in no real rush to go shopping.

I opened the fridge and looked around. There was a half gallon of skim milk that was stamped with yesterday's date. I sniffed it and couldn't tell if it had soured or not. There was a half a head of wilted romaine in the vegetable drawer that was starting to go brown and gooey, and the jar of strawberry jelly that I had made my PB&J with that morning. I had used up the last of the sandwich bread, so while I had more peanut butter, there was nothing to put it on.

I opened the freezer and hit the jackpot. A package of Toll House cookie dough. The kind already stamped into squares for easy cookie baking. I opened the package and tested one square for quality.

My cell phone rang. It was my mother. She knew down to the minute what time I got off work and how long it would take me to get home and kick off my shoes. I had to answer or she would assume that I was dead in a ditch somewhere.

"Hello, darling!" she sang cheerfully. "How was your day today?"

I thought back over the frustrations and said, "Great!"

"How wonderful," she breezed on, "I was calling to see if you would like to come over for dinner tonight? I'm trying out a new recipe that I think is going to be divine!"

I broke off another square of cookie dough and thoughtfully chewed it. On the one hand, I _was_ hungry, and there was clearly not a lot to eat at the apartment. On the other, it was a half hour drive over the causeway to get to my parents' beachside house. Add in the half hour drive back home and it would be a late night. I sighed.

"No thanks, Mom," I said regretfully. "I just got in and I'm beat. Maybe some other time."

"I just worry that you're not eating well," my mother wheedled. Her idea of "eating well" was four star restaurants. If she knew that I had splurged and eaten at Taco Bell the other day she would have a heart attack. "You're looking so thin. Are you sure you're getting balanced meals?"

I wedged the cell phone between ear and shoulder and opened up the jar of peanut butter. "Yeah, Mom," I assured her. "I'm cooking dinner right now." I spread some peanut butter on another square of cookie dough and popped it in my mouth.

"What are you making?" She sounded thrilled. She still firmly believed that my inner chef was merely hiding, waiting to make a grand entrance one day and surprise the world. The fact that I couldn't consistently boil pasta without it being too hard or too mushy was totally lost on her.

"Umm," I tried to talk around a gooey mouthful. "I hadn't totally decided, but I'm preheating the oven as we speak." I reached over and clicked the oven on so that I would be telling the truth.

"I found a wonderful recipe the other day," she started to say before pausing. "Oh, dear. I've got a call from your father on the other line. I'll have to talk to you later! Love you!"

"Love you too, Mom," I said before she hung up.

I viewed the cookie dough and decided that since I had eaten half the package without cooking it that there was not really any point in dirtying a dish to cook the rest. I turned the oven back off and settled down at the counter to finish off the rest of the cookie dough and peanut butter. I'd just have to _make_ Char go to the grocery store tomorrow.

I'd made a serious dent in the package when my phone rang again. It was my mother. She sounded in shock.

"Are you okay, Mom?"

"Your Great Aunt Eleanor!" she gasped.

I felt a stab of fear. "What about Aunt Eleanor?"

"She's dead!"

Cordelia's Cookie Recipe

1 frozen package - Nestle Toll House Cookie Dough Bar

1 jar of peanut butter, crunchy or smooth

Preheat oven to 325°F

Open package and break off pre-scored square. Spread liberally with peanut butter. Enjoy. Repeat as desired. Remember to turn off oven when finished.
