“Positive,” said Eddie. “We met up in a public place, and the Alchemists sent to watch me never even knew I left with these two.”
Inez was sizing up our surroundings with a critical eye and didn’t look impressed. “Jaclyn sent us since she couldn’t get away from your friends. They’ve staked out her house.”
“The Alchemists aren’t my friends,” Sydney retorted.
“Well, whatever they are, they’re a pain in the ass,” Inez said. “But we told her we’d help you, so here we are.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Sydney said, adorably polite as ever. “I know what an inconvenience it must be.”
Maude smiled kindly at her. “It’s not as inconvenient as some people would have you think.” She set down two large tote bags, stuffed to overflowing with mysterious ingredients. “Now then. I understand we need to make you stronger.”
“Do you?” Sydney asked in surprise.
Inez pushed up the sleeves of her rose-printed dress and peered into one of the bags. “That’s what Jaclyn says. Says you’re going to be getting in fights or some such nonsense.”
“Well, yeah, but I just figured I’d use the evasive techniques Wolfe taught me.”
“Wolfe?” Inez snorted in disgust. “That hippie that Jaclyn’s dating? Believe me, smarts and ‘evasive techniques’ are fine if that’s all you’ve got to rely on, but if you get a chance to be the baddest and strongest, always be the baddest and strongest.”
There were a number of things wrong with what she’d said, starting with her referring to Wolfe—who owned more weapons than anyone I’d ever met—as a hippie.
Inez carefully took out an innocuous-looking canteen from the bag. “What’s that?” I asked.
“A very special and complex potion,” said Maude. “One that several of us worked on for most of today.”
As she spoke, I took note of the dark circles under her eyes and fatigue in her voice. Sydney saw it too. “You didn’t have to do that . . .” she said.
“We did,” said Maude simply. “Cleaning up after Alicia is our responsibility—and if that involves preparing you for these bizarre acts of brutality, we’ll help you do it.”
“What’s in it?” I asked. The scope and randomness of human magic was still kind of amazing to me. Plus, focusing on it distracted me from thinking about Sydney and “bizarre acts of brutality.”
“You’re happier not knowing,” Maude told me. “Now then. We need to finish off the spell by—”
We heard the sound of a door opening. A moment later, the beaded curtain separating the living room from the kitchen rustled, and Howie stepped through. He looked surprised to see additional people here and blinked a few times, as though ascertaining that we were all real and not some hallucination. I imagined in his life, that was a distinction that had to constantly be made. And, considering my increasing interactions with Aunt Tatiana, it was something I could relate to.
“Hey, man, Marcus,” he said, pushing up his glasses. “Didn’t know you had more people over, man. We’re looking for the Doritos. Have you seen the Doritos?”
Marcus pointed to an end table by the couch. Howie brightened as he lifted the Doritos bag, then turned dismayed when he saw it was nearly empty. “You were up here eating them around lunchtime,” Marcus reminded him.
Howie looked pleasantly skeptical. “I was?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “You said you were watching some mutant-shark movie that was on commercial.”
“Trey was watching that earlier today too,” remarked Eddie in a too-casual way that made me think Trey hadn’t been the only one watching it.
“Was it a double feature with Raptorbot Rampage?” Sydney asked dryly.
Howie held up a warning finger. “That stuff’s not made up, you know. Real life is stranger than fiction, man. The government’s hiding it from us.”
“Totally,” said Marcus, steering Howie back toward the beaded curtain. “Why don’t you take some cookies back down in the basement instead? I think I saw some Nutter Butters in the kitchen.”
Marcus got our host situated and then sent him on his way. None of the rest of us spoke until we heard the basement door close again. Eddie remarked, “Real life is stranger than fiction.”
“Tell me about it,” Sydney said, turning back to the canteen. “What do I have to do?”
“Drink it,” said Inez. “We mixed in some Tang to help it taste better. Emphasis on ‘help.’”
“But first we finish the spell,” said Maude. She and Inez linked hands, forming a circle around where the canteen sat on a table. I’d heard Sydney recite spells enough to recognize the sound of Latin. I’d also learned enough to know that most of the spells she used were simple ones with immediate results. The kind these witches were dealing with now—spells with multiple parts that required multiple magic users—were heady, and Sydney’s awed expression reflected as much. When they finished the chant, Maude handed the canteen over to Sydney with a flourish. “Bottoms up,” said Maude.
Sydney unscrewed the lid and grimaced at what she saw inside. I was standing near her and shared her disgust. The concoction smelled like wet rope . . . and Tang.
“The faster you drink it, the better,” added Inez. “Plugging your nose wouldn’t hurt either.”
Sydney did both, but none of it stopped her from gagging. “It better not come back up,” warned Inez. “Because we don’t have any more of it.”
Sydney winced and shook her head as she handed the canteen back. “It’s staying down. What now? Am I really stronger? Mostly I just feel like I want to brush my teeth.” She certainly hadn’t sprouted giant muscles nor begun compulsively pumping iron.
“And how much stronger?” asked Eddie eagerly. “Like lift-up-a-car stronger?”
Maude smiled. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. For one thing, that would attract too much attention, and you probably don’t want that. For another, our power has limitations. We can’t go around creating gods. I’d say . . .” She glanced between Eddie and Sydney speculatively, her smile growing. “I’d say you’re strong enough to hold your own with a dhampir in an arm wrestling match.”
“I would kind of love to see that,” I admitted. Eddie’s face said he would as well.