Page 106 of Real Fake Hauntings

“And you’d be long gone by then.”

“Exactly.”

“And the blood? Did the initial spell necessitate some of his blood, and when it failed, you figured you might as well take some extra for future potions.”

“Ding, ding, ding.”

“See? I’m plenty bright.”

Hannah laughed warmly, and my stomach rolled. Vicky had laughed like that while telling me how she and Lewis were going to stage my demise so she could take over the shop.

But Hannah hadn’t been my bestie. She had been a customer. A regular. A nice person on the outside, but we had never talked about anything beyond the weather, the day’s special, and her plans for the day.

I wasn’t being betrayed by my best friend. I was being betrayed by my sunshine disposition and my apparent allergy to thinking everyone was really a suspect.

Very different things.

Since I was studying Hannah’s reactions to my words so closely, I caught the exact moment she decided it was time to stop pacing around me and pounce for the coup de grâce.

I put up an imperious hand. “Stop.”

To my surprise, she did.

Then I pulled out a small can of pepper spray from my pocket and sprayed her right in the face.

Her unholy screech ripped the air as she raked at her eyes. I pressed my advantage. Closing my eyes and holding my breath to avoid any lingering spray in the air, I rammed into her midsection with my shoulder and sending her to the ground, where she writhed and cried and sobbed and cursed me to die, which did wonders to wipe any traces of pity I might’ve had.

Throwing the can of pepper spray aside, I ran to Crane’s body and pulled off the remains of the cord that had been keeping his upper body rolled inside the tarp.

Getting Hannah to stay still took some effort, since she kept rolling side to side, still sobbing and muttering unintelligible sentences. Eventually, I managed to tie her wrists together, then used the remaining length to tie that to one ankle, just in case.

Grandma might’ve felt sorry for the poor witch and her tearing, puffy eyes and running snot, and perhaps she’d have gotten water to help with the burning, since her magic obviously wasn’t helping. But this witch had helped Bagley and killed Crane and nearly destroyed Halloween, so I figured Grandma would also understand if I simply leaned in and said, “Needless to say, you’re not getting free drinks anymore.”

Feeling unaccountably proud of myself, I stood in time to hear a loud growl reverberate through the air.

Heart in my throat, I whirled around, wishing I hadn’t thrown my can of pepper spray away. Did Hannah have a second accomplice aside from the earth mage? A shifter?

A huge black wolf jumped over the nearest gravestone and slid to a stop in front of us. It was humongous, with bright yellow eyes that shone in the darkness.

The wolf panted, looking from me to Hannah’s squirming form, then back to me. His whole body thrummed with tension and unspent power, and the thick aura of an alpha enveloped me.

Ian.

Ian, who never shifted into a wolf no matter how dire the situation or how much danger he was in.

He had shifted. For me. Because I was in danger.

The wolf let out a low growl.

I froze. Had Ian forgotten how to be a wolf after all this time? Was his head all messed up and he had forgotten who I was?

He growled again, a guttural sound that sent goosebumps down my arms and forced me back a step.

“Ian?” I whispered. Did I have it all wrong? I studied the wolf intently. Something about the way it moved, the way it stared at me… No, this was Ian.

The wolf took one menacing step forward.

Swallowing, I took one back.

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