Quintessential witches at their pot, Artemis, Demitra, and Zelda were stirring the cauldron as it rose to a smoky boil. Yasmine made several trips back and forth to the walk-in pantry, taking what she could carry of the ingredients needed for the potion. Beryl was in the vault collecting various books from Olympia’s library of spells. Seth was on a ladder in the living room, mounting a security camera to each corner of the room. He’d already done the same thing in the foyer, on the front porch, and at the back entrance to the house. Fable sat in a chair in the corner of the kitchen. She had succumbed to the acceptance that Patric was a monster, but she was still stunned into silence. Yasmine, and Beryl brought their collections to the kitchen and laid them out on the table where Artemis was now placing them into the pot.

  “Garlic,” Artemis said, reading off her checklist.

  “Garlic,” Seth said, tossing it into the pot.

  “Bat claws.”

  “Bat claws,” Yasmine said, holding her nose from the putrid smell as she shook them out of the jar into the cauldron.

  “Hemlock.”

  “Here,” Demitra said, reaching across the table and dropping the plant clippings in.

  “Viper venom.”

  “Is that this gooey stuff?” Yasmine asked, handing the jar over. “There are so many weird jars of things on the back shelves in the vault.”

  “Most of this stuff I’ve never even seen used before,” Seth noted. “Where did y'all get this stuff anyway?”

  “There are witches who make a living collecting these necessities and selling to fellow witches. Our vendor comes by twice a year,” Olympia said. “You know her, Mrs. Waddling.”

  “I thought she sold you jellies, jams, and pickled okra!” Seth exclaimed.

  “She also sells us bat wings, falcon hearts, spider legs, and tongue of an African tree frog as well. Among other things,” Olympia laughed.

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  “I’ll finish the brew,” Artemis said. “You kids better gather the protections and charms.”

  Olympia lifted a pair of kitchen shears and walked over to where Fable was sitting. Without even asking first, Olympia lifted a clump of Fable’s hair and snipped off. “Wrap this hair around the entry protections.”

  Fable looked at her in disbelief, “You cut my hair.”

  “Yes, I did.” Olympia replied. She directed Fable to move to the table whereupon she outstretched her granddaughter’s arm over the steaming concoction. Giving a quick wave to Beryl to approach, Olympia lifted a dagger from the table. Clasping Fable’s arm she apologized, “I’m sorry, Baby, but this will hurt.”

  She sliced Fable’s forearm with the blade, longways to the elbow. Fable screamed from the shock and the surge of pain. Blood gushed from the wound as Olympia held Fable’s arm over the cauldron, mixing her blood into the brew. When she felt there was enough, she released Fable’s arm to Beryl, who quickly laid her hands over the wound, healing it as if it had never happened.

  “It’s a good potion, Mother,” Artemis announced, pleased with their results. “It’s got everything from Wolfsbane to bat claws, all stirred together with the blood of his chosen mate. I think we stand a chance.”

  “The kids placed the charms at the entrances,” Demitra announced to the kitchen. “They’re on their way back downstairs now with the weapons.”

  Seth, Yasmine, and Beryl bounded down the kitchen stairs holding several objects in hand. They had to pause midway because Beryl had forgotten to close the door to the vault after she had gone into it. The last riser of stairs was now hinged upwards before them, blocking them from the kitchen.

  “Why didn’t you just come down the front stairs, the same way you went up?” Demitra scolded as she rushed to push the vault door closed and allow them to descend to the kitchen.

  Placing their individual objects on the table beside the cauldron, they each identified what they brought as they laid it down. Seth went first, clicking open the bullet cartridge to show that the gun was loaded.

  “Uncle Larry’s gun.”

  “Great grandfather Constantinople’s sword,” Beryl said, laying the long sharp blade carefully on the table.

  “A canister of hydrochloric acid,” Yasmine announced, slipping the medium-sized tank off her back by the straps and placing it gingerly on the table’s edge.

  “Why do we have that?” Seth asked in the ear of his Aunt Artemis, who simply shook her head as if to say I have no idea.

  Olympia inhaled deeply and proudly as she professed, “This is it. The Coven of the Blanchard Witches are prepared. He will be here shortly.”

  “Correction,” Zelda said. “He’s coming up the drive.”

  “What?” Fable gasped.

  “You can see him?” Demitra asked.

  “Yeah,” Zelda said looking down at her feet in discouragement. “He’s lettin’ me know he’s here. He knows what we’re plannin’. He’s comin’ up the driveway, laughing at us.”