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didn’t move. Then Moira felt the second spell running parallel with the other. A spell of confusion. It swirled around both of them, but seemed to bounce off her. She didn’t know why; she didn’t care to figure it out, but she had to get Jared to move. He was confused, uncertain what to do.
    A scream from the coffee shop. Lily? A screech as another vehicle slammed on its brakes to avoid hitting the truck. Shouts from the park, warnings coming from all around.
    Moira ran into the street, grabbed Jared by the arm, and shouted, “Move!”
    She pulled but Jared seemed cemented to the ground. She pulled again and he took a step with her. Then another. Then they were both running. The truck came after them, as if it were possessed.
    Great. Stephen King’s imagination comes to life, only instead of a classic car turned evil stalker, it’s a four-ton truck filled with baked goods.
    They made it to the sidewalk, but still the truck roared toward them. Moira jumped over a low decorative metal fence. Jared followed, but tripped and fell heavily to the ground.
    Without thinking, Moira pulled out her dagger and threw it at the truck. What the hell? Did she actually think she could stop the monster truck with a dagger?
    Except it was iron, and if there was a spell at work, the iron might disperse it.
    The knife hit the grill and stuck. The truck hit the hedge, then the fence, knocking it over without much effort.
    But the truck slowed, then jerked to a stop. Jared was inches from the tires as he scrambled away on all fours.
    Moira pulled her dagger from the grill. The driver jumped out. “Oh my God! My brakes, they wouldn’t work, then the steering went, and the horn, I couldn’t warn anyone. Are you okay?”
    The driver touched her, out of concern (she hoped) and since her shields were already down, she let his emotions flow over her. He truly was panicked and scared. He was telling the truth.
    The spell had controlled the truck, not the driver.
    Those three witches were far more powerful than she wanted to believe. It would have been easier to put a sleeping spell on the driver, knock him out and make it look like an accident. This was… something far more violent and insidious.
    “I’m just peachy,” she said, her heart still racing. She looked at Jared as he pulled himself up. Why did those witches want to kill him?
    Her heart skipped a beat when she thought this might all be a distraction, just like what she, Anthony and Rafe had done yesterday at the hospital. Her head whipped around, searching for Lily. She saw her there, on the sidewalk, her hands covering her mouth as if she was trying to stop screaming.
    Moira looked inside the front window of The Bean Bag. The angle of the sun prevented her from seeing through the windows, but she sensed that those three witches were still inside.
    Watching.
    Waiting.
    Assessing.
    Shit, shit, shit. She’d just exposed herself to the wrong people.
    Sirens in the distance. Moira said to Jared, “Talk to the cops. I’m taking Lily someplace safe. I’ll let you know where.”
    “What the hell was that?” Jared asked.
    “A win-win test.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means if you’re dead, they win. If I save you, they win. Because now they know exactly how to draw me out and what I can do.”
    It was because of this that for years Moira had made no personal attachments. After she killed Peter, she stayed away from people. She didn’t love, she didn’t hate, she couldn’t afford to care about anyone because her mother would know how to get to her. First she’d lost Peter. And then Father Philip when he came to Santa Louisa.
    In the three months she’d been in Santa Louisa, she’d made friends—after years of keeping her distance from everyone. She’d made commitments, taken people like Lily and Jared under her protective wing. In doing so, she put a mark on them that made them fair game to her enemies.
    And, worse, she’d fallen in love. Rafe was in danger