VenCo(64)

“I am, aren’t I.”

“One of the best,” Morticia responded. She’d been mostly asleep for the whole trip. Now that they were nearly back to the house, she lowered her window to let in some fresh air. At first, the breeze hitting her skin felt so refreshing, she pushed her face out the opening, letting her hair blow wild. She filled her lungs—

“Oh god, what is that smell?”

“It isn’t me,” Freya said. “I made sure I leaned out pretty far to clear the side of the car.”

“It’s not that.” She shot Freya a quick look. “I mean, I smell you, and you’re gross, like sour milk and garbage. But this is something else entirely.”

She pushed her face back out the window. The scent was thick, deep. It was the smell of choral music and heavy books about the industrial revolution. It was unbuttered bread and rain in the winter. It was tall, dark grass and rocky, hard soil. Inside this smell, Morticia was Patricia again—no, she was Pat. There were no mirrors that weren’t cloudy, no rugs that didn’t reek of cat piss. In this smell there was barely air for Pat to breathe.

“Morticia, what’s wrong?” The concern in Meena’s voice snapped her back to the car. “Roll up the window now!”

She was crying, fat tears sliding down her pale cheeks and onto her blouse. Why was she crying? She couldn’t remember how it started. She had only two images in her head. She spoke them out loud after sealing the window tight.

“It’s like polished wood and clean fur.”

Meena and Wendy exchanged a glance. A smell that could make you that sad and be that specific was not good. A literal ill wind.

“What the hell is it?” Freya asked, leaning over to rub Morticia’s back.

“Something truly evil,” Meena answered. Thinking out loud, she asked, “You don’t think it could be . . . ?”

“No.” Wendy felt queasy again. “No way. They’re just stories.”

“What?” Freya asked, growing anxious.

“Benandanti.” Wendy said it quietly, as if the word itself might call it to them.

“I knew it!” Freya shouted. “I knew they were real. I was just talking about them last night, remember?”

“But why now? They’ve had plenty of time to try to interfere,” Wendy said.

“If that’s what it is, then, maybe they’re scared we’re closing in on the seventh witch,” Meena answered.

“There’s more than one? Are you sure?” Freya’s voice was getting high.

“I have no idea! No one has any idea anymore.” Meena took some deep breaths. Say something to calm them down. Say anything! “I guess that’s a sign: we must be close enough for them to send out a wolf.”

“Wait.” Freya pulled herself up to lean into the space between the women. “Like, an actual wolf is here?”

“No, no. But also maybe yes. Who knows?” Meena’s foot got heavy on the gas. “Lettie and Everett are alone at the house. Freya, put your seatbelt back on, please.” Freya slid back and did as she was told.

Ten minutes later, they screeched into the driveway and sat there for a moment, gathering themselves inside the car as it ticked angrily from being driven so hard.

“What’s the plan?” Freya whispered.

All eyes were on Meena. “Why the hell are you all looking at me? I don’t know!” She twisted the leather steering wheel so that her hands wouldn’t shake. They couldn’t come up with any sort of plan until they knew what might be waiting for them. Plus she’d never had any experience with an actual Benandanti, not that she knew of. They could have been watching for years, could have been skulking around. Hell, they might be working at their grocery store or delivering their mail.

Finally she snapped out of it and said, “We need to go inside and make sure Lettie and Everett are okay. If they are, we batten down the hatches and then start locking up with protection spells.” She cracked open the car door and sniffed, using her nose before her eyes to try to gauge the danger. She smelled buds in trees, some near to bursting with tightly packed green. Nothing else. She listened hard and heard the skitter and creak of the bugs that lived in those trees. A dog barked from up the road.

“I think we’re okay,” she said, and got out. The others followed, Morticia still shaking. Freya ran for the front door, pulling her keys out of her backpack as she did. She unlocked the door and rushed in, leaving it open behind her. “Lettie!” she yelled. “Everett!”

Meena, Wendy, and Morticia had made it to the front porch when she poked her head back outside. “Found them! They’re okay. They’re alright.”

“Oh thank god!” Meena put her hand on her chest to slow her heart, and the three of them hurried inside. “That means we have time. Let’s go!”

They locked the doors and windows. Wendy stuck a metal bar in the sliding door off the kitchen for extra security, and Freya ran outside with a knife tucked in between her teeth to close all the shutters, fitting each latch with a small brass lock. She held up a handful of tiny keys. “I don’t know which one fits which lock. We’ll have to figure that out when this is over.”

Wendy closed all the fireplace flues and made sure their bedroom balcony door was locked and the drapes pulled tight. After Lettie put Everett down for a nap, she joined in the preparations. “What’s really going on?” she asked. “What happened to you all at Buzz Bay? And where are Lucky and Stella?”