Page 89 of A Witch-ish Guide to Protectors and Pendulums

I felt the first twinges of confidence I’d felt since we’d left Iraq behind for the catacombs. The Western Australia coven was known world over as a large and powerful coven. And it appeared they hadn’t been hit yet.

Okay, after several more hours—or that was how it felt in the sweltering heat, anyway—of walking, I began to doubt Mr. Pooches’s ability to judge distance. Not far? I guess if you meant relative to reaching the moon. Otherwise, way far.

“There,” he said, tipping his nose up in a direction kitty-corner from the path ahead of us.

“There what?” I asked.

“The coven.”

“There’s nothing there.” Shafira looked as dried out as I felt. We needed rest and we needed water.

“Oh, they’re there. It’s a village about a hundred feet that way.”

“Simone, I think your cat is broken.”

“They’ve put up wards. You just have to trust me.”

“If they’re using wards, why can you see them still?”

“I’m not a witch. Familiars are?—”

“Demons,” I answered helpfully, and when he glared at me, I smiled.

“If you want to get technical,” he said. “Yes, we’d be closer to demons than anything. But we’re our own subspecies and have our own union.”

Shafira popped out a laugh. “Familiars have unionized?”

“Okay, okay… Let’s focus here, people. Mr. Pooches, will you lead us into the town?”

“I’d be glad to.”

He turned his little black body in the direction he wanted us to go, prancing smugly with his tail in the air. Oh, how I wanted to give him a little zappy-zap from my Taser fingers to wipe out that smugness, but I decided to be the bigger person and let it go.

“We’re just about there,” he said. I reached over to grab Shafira’s hand. If the witches had put up wards, I didn’t know how they’d affect her walking through them, so I manifested us walking into the town square without any issues.

A blue light shimmered around us and I knew we’d passed through the invisible barrier. Once inside, a medieval village sprouted to life around us. Buildings and houses all with thatched roofs. Cobblestone streets. Window boxes bloomingwith brightly colored flowers. Several doors had these wrought-iron symbols hanging on them. I didn’t know what any of the symbols meant, but they gave off positive energies.

Okay. I liked this town.

That was when I noticed several eyes peeking out at us from behind window curtains. I waved at one set and they ducked out of sight. “Hello?” I called out. “My name is Simone Lamia. I need your help.”

Chapter

Twenty-Three

We waited for what felt like forever for someone, anyone, to greet us. Finally, a beautiful man with flawless makeup and eyebrows to die for stepped into the street from one of the homes. He wore a multi-colored, butterfly caftan and a long string of pearls knotted at his chest. He had on a gorgeous 1920s-esque headdress with a peacock feather. My mouth dropped open. I mean, I hardly considered myself Quasimodo, but this man upstaged us all.

“Hey,” I called out and he smiled. A smile. Thank you, Lilith. I needed someone to smile. Shafira and I still had so much to get done and a nonexistent amount of time to do it.

“Hey, girl,” he called back. “What’s up?” The man didnotsound Australian. Like at all. He sounded American. West Coast/SoCal, maybe?

I sighed. “We need help.”

“Help? Ooh… spill the tea.” He watched me intently with his arms folded over his chest, waiting me out. He’d never even introduced himself, but okay.

“I’m Simone Lamia. This is”—I pointed to Shafira—“my friend Shafira. Shafira is a witch, but I’m—okay, this is always the hard part—I’m a Lilium.”

His mouth dropped open.

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