Page 16 of Poltergeists & Change of Life

Just as I was contemplating the logistics of waddling my way over to the platter Mythia was filling, the air in the kitchen shimmered. Aidon materialized out of thin air, looking like he'd gone ten rounds with Cerberus and barely lived to tell the tale.

"Honey, I'm home," Aidon called out, his voice rough with exhaustion as he appeared through the portal.

I took in the singe marks on his clothes, my stomach clenching at the thought of what he'd faced down there. "That was fast. Did you find it?"

He grinned, holding up a small vial filled with what looked like liquid starlight. "One vial of 'Tears of the Damned’, as requested."

Persephone strode forward, taking the vial with careful hands. "Well done. Let's begin before the essence fades."

"What can I say?" Aidon shrugged. "I have a way with damned souls. Must be my charming personality."

Nana chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Those poor souls probably couldn't wait to help you out. I bet your brooding charm works just as well in the Underworld as it does up here. They took one look at those puppy dog eyes of yours and handed everything right over."

Aidon saluted Nana with a smile and then sauntered off to shower. Persephone and Stella huddled around the vial like it was the Holy Grail of magical ingredients. "Right," I clapped my hands. "We've got our magic hellfire tears. What's next on our 'Save the World' to-do list?"

Nana spoke up. "Now comes the tricky part. And before you say anything," she pointed at me, "yes, it's all tricky. But this part? This is where we either save the world or blow ourselves to kingdom come."

"No pressure or anything," I mumbled. "What do you need me to do? Stand in the corner and look pretty?"

"Actually," Persephone said, her eyes twinkling, "you're going to be our anchor."

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in ship-shape. More like whale-shape, actually."

"Precisely," Nana nodded. "Your connection to new life, to creation itself, will help stabilize the potion. It's like... cosmic balance. Or some such mystical bullshit. Point is, we need you and your baby bump. Plant your ass where we tell you, and try not to sneeze. Last thing we need is you going into labor in the middle of this circus."

I gave in and waddled over for some food. "I've gone from supernatural troubleshooter to magical ballast. My career trajectory is truly inspiring."

I shoveled muffins into my mouth like a starving werewolf at an all-you-can-eat buffet while Persephone continued her one-woman show, "How to Save the World in Five Easy Steps (Cosmic Catastrophe Not Included)." She dispatched Stella and Mom to our Sanctum, aka the magical Walmart in our basement. They fetch ingredients that had been there when I inherited the house and magic from Hattie.

As Persephone and Nana set up shop, transforming our kitchen into what looked like the lovechild of a meth lab and Hogwarts potions class, I felt a twinge of... something. It could've been fear doing the cha-cha with excitement, or maybe just epic indigestion plotting a rebellion in my gut. With these pregnancy hormones treating my body like their personal amusement park, it was anybody's guess. For all I knew, I was either about to save the world or star in the world's most ill-timed Pepto-Bismol commercial.

The ingredients they laid out looked less like a witch's pantry and more like the aftermath of a drunken dare between a taxidermist and a mad botanist. If this was what it took to save the world, maybe the apocalypse wouldn't be so bad after all. At least it wouldn't require me to touch whatever that was that seemed to be breathing in the jar labeled ‘Definitely Not Alive, We Promise’.

"Alright, listen up, you magical misfits," Nana announced, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "We've got one shot at this. One. If anyone feels the need to scratch their ass, pick their nose, or contemplate the meaning of life, do it now. Because once we start, there's no stopping. Clear?" We all nodded, too stunned (or in my case, too nauseous) to argue.

"Good," Nana grinned. She had a manic gleam in her eye as she began mixing ingredients with the flair of a mad scientist. "Let's make some magic, bitches."

And with that eloquent battle cry, our kitchen became ground zero for what was either going to be the salvation of the world or the start of a very interesting insurance claim. Knowing our luck, probably both. Bring it on, universe. We're ready for you. Maybe. Probably. Oh, who am I kidding? We're all doomed. But at least we'll go out with a bang. Literally.

CHAPTER 8

"We need to create a potion," Persephone announced when we reached the kitchen. "A very specific, very powerful potion. It should neutralize the artifact and free Hattie from Lyra's control."

"Are you sure this will even work?” I asked my mother-in-law. “No offense, but you're not a witch and know nothing about how our powers work." Persephone's eyes flashed with annoyance. And was that amusement? It was hard to tell with goddesses.

"Not that I’m an expert," I continued as I ran my hands over my swollen belly. "I'm all for saving the world and rescuing my friend from supernatural enslavement. But brewing up some cosmic cocktail on the off chance it might work? That's like trying to fix a nuclear reactor with duct tape and a prayer. It’s going to blow up in our faces. Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything."

Mom shot me a look that was equal parts exasperation, amusement, and warning. Before she could chide me for my ill-timed snark, Persephone continued as if I hadn’t spoken. "Mollie," she said as she fixed her gaze on my mother, "I believe you should lead the brewing."

The room fell silent, save for the soft gasp that escaped Mom's lips. Her eyes widened in surprise and danced from Persephone to the rest of us as if to confirm she'd heard correctly. "Me?" Mom finally asked. "But surely you or Phoebe would be better suited..." Mom’s response trailed off and she chewed on her lower lip. My heart hurt for her. Doubt was written all over her face. She'd come far in rebuilding her self-esteem after we rescued her from Lyra’s clutches. The last thing I wanted was for her to backslide.

Persephone shook her head as a small smile played at the corners of her lips. "You shouldn't be surprised, Mollie. You're the most talented kitchen witch I've ever known. Your intuition with ingredients and your ability to improvise are unparalleled. If anyone can brew this potion successfully, it's you. In fact, you might bring a twist that will make it more effective. As you probably realize, I didn’t create this recipe. I merely recall it from centuries ago."

My lower jaw dropped to my chest. Was that a compliment? From Persephone? To my mother? I discreetly pinched myself to make sure I hadn't accidentally slipped into some parallel universe where my mother-in-law was being nice. To be fair, she was wonderful to anyone not mated to her son.

Mom's cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. It wasn't every day that a goddess asked you to take the lead in saving the world. "No pressure, right?" She replied with a chuckle. "But when you put it that way, how can I refuse? Though, I hope you all like your world-saving potions with a side of vampire-shifter mojo. This tribred thing is still new to me, and I can't promise there won't be some... unexpected effects."

"You haven't blown anything up for weeks," Mythia pointed out. "We’re more likely to have an 'Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman' than for you to fail."

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