I answered Adam’s phone and whispered, “Just a sec.”

“Whoa. No!” Adam said as he climbed out. “That’s not what I meant. Ransom, not a trade. Your Prius is very cute and very ecofriendly and very, very Paige.” He shut the door.

“Savannah?” Lucas said.

“Sorry. Adam was just—”

“Distracting Paige, which is why he texted me to go into another room and call him. Whatever happened, Savannah, keeping it from Paige is not—”

“A witch-hunter is trying to kill me.”

Silence.

“Lucas?”

“I’m quite certain you’re joking. However, you don’t sound as if you are.”

“I’m not. There are these women called witch-hunters who—”

“I’m familiar with the legend, Savannah. But it’s just that, a legend.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the bitch who’s been trying to kill me.” I told him the story.

When I finished, he was quiet for a minute, then said, “While I’m not convinced the person stalking you is a witch-hunter, she does appear to be hunting witches, so the precise nature of her affiliation is unimportant. You and Adam need to—”

“Stop her. I know. And you need to get Paige out of Portland, in case this chick circles back there looking for me. Can you take her to Miami? I know you don’t like relying on the Cabal.”

“Under the circumstances, it’s probably the safest place for her. Unless you need our help . . .”

“We don’t. Whatever this kid is, she’s only a kid and she’s human.” And I’m sure as hell not adding to your worries by telling you about my power outage. “We can handle it.”

“I presume this hunter is responsible for the vehicular damage then?”

I hesitated. “Actually, no. That would be the case I was investigating while you guys were gone, which turned out . . . I think we’d better get Paige in on this explanation. Can you call her and put me on speaker?”

“So,” I said, when I was finished telling them about the events in Columbus and the return of Leah O’Donnell. “The moral of this story is never to let Paige kill anyone ever again. She sucks at it, and I’ll have to go back and do it right.”

“I’ll remember that,” Paige said. “So you’re all okay?”

“Yes. For the hundredth time, I’m fine.”

“I’ll stop asking when I believe it,” she murmured. “So what are you doing now?”

“Workaholic that I am, I found another case right away. One that may need a full council investigation.”

I told them about Jaime’s show and the death of Walter Alston.

“Jaime should get to Miami,” Lucas said quickly. “She needs to be under Cabal protection, so she isn’t targeted to raise Lucifer. That’s probably the best place for us, too. If there’s been trouble, someone in the Cabal will have heard rumors.”

Paige moaned about getting on another plane, but Lucas adroitly steered her to the conclusion that they really had to go to Miami. Immediately.

The minute I stepped onto the front walk, my head started to ache. Just a soft pulse that got stronger as we drew near the house. A witch-hunter was inside. I hoped it was my little friend, but suspected that would be too easy.

Since we’d been sitting outside the Tucker house talking to Paige and Lucas for a while, we weren’t surprised when the door opened before we could knock.

A middle-aged woman with a cane stood in the doorway. Mrs. Tucker, I presumed. “If you’re from the insurance company, hoping to catch me doing something I shouldn’t, you’ll need to do a better job of undercover surveillance than that.” She waved at the car. Then she saw me and stopped.

“Oh,” she said after a moment.

“Nope, not insurance investigators,” I said. “Though we are offering a form of insurance today. The kind that keeps your niece from getting killed.”

I brushed past her into the house, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“Yes, I’m rude,” I said when she let out a squawk of outrage. “And the more times Roni tries to kill me, the worse my mood will get.”

In the living room, I stopped and looked around. Boring neutral shades livened up by cushions and pictures in bright, primary colors. Functional, easy-to-clean furniture. A playpen in the corner. Grandchildren? Home day care? The playpen was filled with toys, stashed away between babysitting sessions.

“You can’t be here,” the woman said. “You’re—”

“The wicked witch. So the legends are true. You can recognize us on sight.”

I plunked down on the sofa. The woman hesitated in the doorway.

“Come in,” I said. “Get comfy. Don’t bother offering tea, though. I don’t think I’d like your blend.”

She stepped in, then glanced at Adam. He stayed where he was, as if guarding the exit.

“You can’t—” she began.

“—do this. I know. You’re supposed to be the one harassing me.” I pointed at the chair. “Sit. Or I’ll help you.”

She sat.

“Here’s the deal,” I said. “I want Veronica to stop trying to kill me. Yes, I know, that’s your mandate—rid the world of witches—but I’m starting to take it personally.”

“Especially since she’s never done a damned thing to deserve it,” Adam said. “I’m taking that personally. You’re lucky she’s offering you a deal, because if it was up to me?”

He reached out and touched the edge of the drapes. A puff of smoke, then a lick of flame. The woman gasped and leapt to her feet.

Adam pinched the flame out. “But it’s not up to me.”

“Stop Veronica,” I said. “If you don’t, I will—permanently. Then I’ll come back here and let him do it his way, and we’ll turn the tables on the rest of your clan. Open season on witch-hunters. You’ve only survived this long because no one believes in you. A few calls from me, and that changes.”

“I can’t stop Veronica.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Her dark eyes lifted to mine. “Can’t. And if she’s trying to kill you, then as much as it pains me to say this, you probably will need to use lethal force to stop her. I wish it could be another way but . . .” She took a deep breath. “It’s gone too far for that. She’s no longer one of us. I don’t think she ever was.”