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loafers. “They don’t fit.”
    I can see blood seeping into his plaid shirt. “Stop bending. Hold on.” I run to the closet and get my pink flip-flops. They’re still small, but he can walk in them. “These will have to do.”
    “Thank you,” he says, standing up with a grunt.
    “I’ll pick you up a new change of clothes later.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a Celtic amulet, handing it to him. “Put that on.”
    He does. “What does it do?” he asks, examining it.
    “Nothing yet.” Closing my eyes, I place my hand on the amulet and the other on his forehead. As I pull the magic into me, much like drawing breath into my lungs, my hands tingle with heat. It’s amazing whenever I do this. Right. Every cell of my body feels as if it’s full of light and energy. Like I’m connected to all the power of the universe. Which I kind of am. Thirty seconds later, I open my eyes and he’s vanished. He’s gone.
    Damn, I’m good. “There.”
    “What did you do?” his disembodied voice asks.
    “Turned you into the invisible man. Only works for a couple minutes though. Come on.” I pick up my bag and purse before opening the front door. I can tell by the noise of the flip-flops that he follows me outside. Auntie Sara maintains her usual post on the porch, eyes glued to the deputy talking on his radio. She and I wave as I walk to my car. I open the passenger side on the pretense of putting my stuff onto the floor. “Hey, Auntie Sara?” I call to buy time.
    “Yes?”
    The car shakes a tad when Adam climbs in. “You have fun at the bake sale! Save me some pig cookies.”
    “Of course, dear. You have a good day at work.”
    “I will.” I shut Adam’s door and get in on my side. It’s a little odd hearing someone breathing beside me without seeing them. I’ll drive like the wind to the farm. I want this over with. I start the car. We ride past the deputy who waves to me and I him. “Are you sure that car can’t be traced to you?”
    “My fingerprints aren’t on file, and I stole it from a bar a few blocks from where I was held, but I can’t be sure. Can I take this thing off? It’s making me hot.”
    “Not until we get out of town.” The streets are fairly empty, even the sidewalks, as the majority of the town is still at church. Even the diner has only a few customers. Tamara spots my car from inside and waves. I do the same.
    “Friendly town,” Adam’s disembodied voice says.
    “Well, don’t start house hunting yet. You get healthy, and you get gone. I don’t care where you go, or how you get there. I am running very low on charity right now.”
    My companion doesn’t say a word for a few seconds, doesn’t even breathe, but I can feel him. It’s as if there’s a ghost in the car. “Mona,” he finally says, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
    The last person who said that to me was a doctor who then told me my grandfather had lapsed into an irreversible coma. My stomach clenches. “What?”
    He sighs. “I think someone inside your coven is trying to kill you.”
    The knot loosens. Oh hell’s bells, he almost gave me a coronary for nothing. He might as well have said Debbie was a pod person. “That’s insane,” I chuckle. “Kill me?”
    “Yes,” he says as serious as cyanide.
    “What? No.”
    “Yes.”
    “No.”
    “Mona. Yes .”
    This man has lost his mind, but I’ll play along. “Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say this is true. You know this how?” I ask, still chuckling.
    “Because until last night … I was one of the people who was supposed to kill you.”
Have a nervous breakdown
    I know smoking is bad. I do. I’d whip the girls if they ever tried a cigarette. And I’m such a hypocrite, because here I am in their empty school parking lot, puffing away. I’m supposed to be a role model, and I’m smoking and pacing like a caged animal. I only smoke in times of extreme stress or depression, and boy do both of those apply now.
    My hit man