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was admitting that she wasn’t all-powerful after all.  I ducked my head, feeling vulnerable.  I felt like someone had attached a bull’s eye to my back—right next to the “kick me” sign and “world’s biggest idiot” post-it note.  For most people, letting their guard down is a healthy thing.  In Harborsmouth, it will just get you dead.
    “Okay, what can I do?” I asked. 
    “Visit the murder scenes and see what else you can find,” she said.  “The sooner we know what we’re dealing with, the better.  And Ivy?  Don’t forget your plan to stock up on protection herbs and amulets.  I’ll call the front desk and inform Arachne that you aren’t to be charged for today’s purchases.”
    “Um, thanks,” I said.
    “Yes, of course, dear,” she said, waving me away.  “Now go.  After my call to Arachne, I will contact the Hunter’s guild.  They should be made aware of the threat to the city.  Hunters may have vowed to protect humans against supernatural forces, but they won’t take kindly to someone murdering fae without their permission.”
    “Are you sure a Hunter didn’t make these kills?” I asked. 
    “There have been no sanctioned kills or banishments in over two weeks,” she said.  I raised an eyebrow and she sighed.  “I may be retired from active duty, but I retain an honorary seat on the Hunter’s council.  They keep me apprised of guild activities within Harborsmouth.  Now go.”
    Kaye pulled a phone from her multi-layered skirts, effectively ending our conversation.  I hadn’t known about Kaye’s involvement with the Hunter’s council.  My gaze darted to the tattoos covering the hand holding the phone to her ear.  In fact, there was a lot I didn’t know about my friend.  But now, as always, wasn’t the time to ask.
    I spun on my heel and left the room.
     
     

Chapter 5
     
    T he Emporium was nearly as cluttered as Kaye’s office.  The only place in the building that wasn’t full of stuff preparing to topple over and smother me to death was Kaye’s spell kitchen.  That was because A) Hob would never tolerate a mess near his hearth and B) One speck of the wrong ingredient in Kaye’s pot would spell KABOOM.  The shop, however, belonged on an episode of Hoarders.
    Plastic skeletons and foam reaper scythes battled for space alongside straw brooms, and faux spider webs.  At least, I think the webs aren’t real.  I ducked lower, avoiding a basketball-sized spider with its plethora of beady eyes.  That thing had to be fake, right?  I sighed and shook web from my hair.  You never can tell at The Emporium.
    I dodged pointy hats, Styrofoam gargoyles, and overflowing cauldrons.  Unlike the spell pots in Kaye’s kitchen, these cauldrons were made of black plastic.  Prettily labeled packets of herbs, mostly benign, spilled over the rim of each cauldron and onto tables and shelves.
    I dipped the fingertips of one gloved hand gingerly into a nearby pot and withdrew small packages of wolfsbane, hellebore, mandrake, and agrimony.  Most of the herbs at Madame Kaye’s Magic Emporium were mundane, not all.  These plants, and the salt in my pocket, would provide some protection against black magic.  The rowanberry, stale bread, nails, and iron shavings I’d brought from my office stash would be my backup against faeries.
    I grabbed a handful of glitter-topped wooden pencils from where they protruded from a grinning skull.  Those were for any vamps that got in my way.  Who said stakes can’t be pretty?
    I carried the goods to the front counter where Arachne hunched over a box of rubber bats, pricing gun at the ready.
    “Hey,” I said, setting the items on the countertop.  “Kaye said these were on the house.  Do you still want to ring them up?”
    “Thanks, Ivy,” Arachne said.  “Keeping inventory around here is like trying to count grains of sand in an hourglass.  Just give me a sec.”
    “Sure thing,” I said.
    “Need a bag?” she asked after