Page 39 of Poltergeists & Change of Life

"Oh, for the love of all that's magical," I groaned. One of my hands went to my swollen belly. "I swear, if this is another one of Lyra's attacks, I'm going to lose my?—"

My words were cut off by a shriek that could've shattered glass and probably did somewhere in the multiverse. Hattie materialized—or rather, exploded—into the room. But this wasn't our snarky, lovable Hattie. This was a roiling mass of spectral fury that looked like it had gone ten rounds with a cosmic blender and lost.

"Well, shit," I eloquently summarized.

Mom didn't miss a beat. "Language, dear," she chided as if I were back in high school instead of being in the middle of a supernatural shitstorm. "Now, who wants to try my new potion? I call it 'Exorcism in a Cup'!"

Before anyone could point out the many, many ways that could go wrong and how it hadn’t worked last time, Poltergeist Hattie turned her attention to the kitchen island.Carefully prepared snacks went airborne, creating a food-based reenactment of the Big Bang. "Not the canapés!" Mom wailed, watching her culinary creations become collateral damage. "I spent hours on those!"

That seemed to be the last straw for her. With a battle cry that would've made Xena Warrior Princess proud, Mom hefted her ladle like Excalibur. "Nobody messes with my hors d'oeuvres!"

In a move that would've made any Major League pitcher weep with envy, Mom scooped up a hefty dose of her potion and hurled it at Hattie's spectral form. Time seemed to slow as we all watched the glowing, viscous liquid arc through the air. SPLAT! The moment the potion made contact, Hattie's form convulsed like she was doing the electric slide in a pool of Jell-O.

A scream tore through the room, a sound caught between rage, pain, and possibly indigestion. "Mom!" I yelled over the din as I jumped off the stool. I had to immediately duck a possessed cheese platter as it whizzed over my head. "What in the name of Betty Crocker's spatula did you put in that potion?"

"Oh, you know," she shouted back, dodging a kamikaze bowl of guacamole, "eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat, tongue of dog." Her snark caught me off guard. She wasn’t usually the sassy one. That was reserved for Nana.

Recovering, I asked, "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding."

"Of course I am, dear," she rolled her eyes. "It's twenty-twenty-five. I use vegan substitutes now."

Before I could unpack that particular gem, Nana's voice cut through the madness. It dripped with more sass than a drag queen convention. "Now's not the time for a cooking show. Hattie needs you, Phoebe. Cast a damn spell! Mollie’s potion needs a bit of help if it’s going to work."

I blinked, momentarily stunned. "What spell? I don't?—"

"Sweet baby Merlin," Nana muttered. "And here I thought pregnancy brain was just a myth."

"Focus, Phoebe," Tarja's calm voice sliced through my confusion like a hot knife through butter. "The potion has weakened Lyra's hold. Now we need your power, your connection to Hattie, to break it completely."

"Right," I nodded, trying to look like I had any clue what I was doing. "Just one tiny question – how exactly do I do that?" I could figure it out, but focus was key, and I needed to get serene in less than a second. My only hope was with Tarja’s guidance.

I swear I saw Tarja’s eye twitch. "Close your eyes. Feel the energy around you, feel your link to Hattie."

I did as instructed, trying to ignore the sound of shattering plates and Mom's colorful cursing. Reaching out with my senses, I felt the swirling vortex of magic around us. The tendrils of Lyra's influence were slimy and cold. Beneath it all was the warm, familiar presence that was purely Hattie.

"Now," Tarja continued. "Channel your intent into freedom, release, and reclamation. Let the words come to you." Her voice took on a hypnotic quality.

I took a deep breath, reaching deep into the well of power within me. The spell formed in my mind. It was a jumble of words in Latin and English, but my intention was pure. As I began to chant, I felt the magic building, starting as a warm glow in my chest and spreading outward like the world's most aggressive case of heartburn.

The air around us began to shimmer. Reality rippled like we were all trapped in a giant lava lamp. Strands of golden light erupted from my fingertips and wove through the air to wrap around Hattie's thrashing form. They pulsed with each word of the spell, growing brighter and brighter until the entire room was bathed in a glow that would've put Times Square to shame.

With a final, thunderous word that I'm pretty sure translated to something like, ‘Lyra, get your mitts off of my friend, you evil bitch,’ the spell reached its crescendo. The golden strands tightened, then shattered with a sound like a thousand wind chimes in a tornado. For a moment, silence reigned.

Then gravity remembered it had a job to do. Everything that had been airborne came crashing down. We all stood there, covered in various foods and looking like we'd just gone through the world's messiest pillow fight. My jaw dropped open when Hattie straightened up and brushed off her spectral form. She didn’t act as if she'd just been through a particularly rough spin cycle. "Well," she said as she looked around, "that was certainly an experience I'd rather not repeat. I didn’t think I’d ever be free."

Her expression darkened as it landed on the destruction of what was once her home. "Now, when do we go after that cut-rate Maleficent wannabe to make her pay for this indignity? I've got a score to settle, and it's not going to involve food fights and impromptu exorcisms."

I couldn't help but grin, despite the chaos around us. "Soon, Hattie. Very soon. But first..." I looked down at my food-splattered clothes and sighed. "I think we all need a shower. And possibly a hazmat team."

As everyone began to pick themselves up and assess the damage, I caught Aidon's eye across the room. He was covered in what looked like the unholy offspring of guacamole and Mom's mystery potion. Yet, he was smiling at me with a look of pride and love that made my heart do a little jig.

"That's my girl," he mouthed, giving me a thumbs up.

I smiled back, feeling a surge of confidence. Lyra might have amassed enough power to fuel a small city and an army of otherworldly beings at her disposal. But she didn't have this. Shedidn't have a family of lovable lunatics who could come out of an exorcism that doubled as a food fight, swinging.

Watch out, Lyra. The Dieudonne clan is coming for you, and we're bringing the mother of all teams. And possibly some canapés. Because saving the universe is hungry work, and nobody messes with Mom's hors d'oeuvres.

CHAPTER 18

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