"Ow!" Peach said, and put her hand on the back of her head. "What the - ?"

My heart pounded as the first dose of panic flooded my bloodstream. I glanced around, and saw the smoke behind Peach. I pulled her behind me, pushing her toward my front door, and said, "Inside!"

I heard the distinct wood-creaking sound I remembered from the last time Peach got pelted, only this time it was louder, almost deafening. I looked toward Peach's house and saw a dark gray haze forming into wisps of smoke as walnuts, pasty pale green and lime-sized, began to appear in its midst.

"Get inside!" I yelled to Peach, then looked at Nick. "Get her in my house!"

Nick, however, was staring down the street, at the pool of light under the streetlamp at the corner, where Millie stood in her bloodred dress, her arms raised around her as she walked slowly toward us. Her fingers flashed out from her, and behind me I heard a thunk and Peach gave a little scream.

"Millie?" Nick started walking toward her. I glanced behind us at Peach, who was now surrounded by a tornado cone of flying walnuts and wild gray smoke, trying to bat them off as if they were bees. Nick, meanwhile, continued for Millie, who was making her way toward us, her fingers flicking out from her at unnatural speed, manipulating the magical walnuts that were pelting Peach as she closed in. I had nothing, no magic, not even an umbrella. But I had at least learned one thing: that kind of magic required concentration to maintain.

"Aaaaaagh!" I yelled, and started to run down the street, passing Nick as I gained speed. I launched myself through the air and, landed on Millie, taking her with me as we both fell to the ground. She made an "oomph" sound as she hit, and I hopped back to a crouch, ready to spring at her again.

Millie scrambled to her feet and narrowed her eyes at me. "This isn't about you, Liv. Go home." She flashed out her fingers, and behind me, Peach screamed. I glanced back and saw Peach racing down the street, the walnuts in hot pursuit, continuing to pelt her from all directions. She had her arms up around her head, but the walnuts kept coming at her, moving so fast you could hear them whistling through the air.

When I looked at Nick, though, he was focused completely on what he was doing: reaching out to Millie.

"Millie?" he asked, his voice flat and dull. "Are you okay?"

"Don't touch her!" I said, and kicked at his arm to push him away just as Millie was about to take his hand.

Nick looked at me, his eyes glassy and wild, but losing a bit of that dazed quality as he held his arm where I'd kicked him. "What the fuck, Liv?"

"She's ... contagious," I said quickly. "She's sick and she's contagious and if you touch her..."

Peach fell then, just a few feet away from where we were. The walnuts were still popping out of the air, throwing themselves at her, pelting her unconscious body. I turned to Millie and grabbed her arm. "Cut it out, Millie!"

She wrenched her arm away from me. "I said, go home!" She flashed her fingers and some walnuts cracked against my upper back; it felt like the pelts from a paintball gun, only with a lot more sting. I cursed and rubbed my shoulder.

"Goddamnit, Millie!"

Nick blinked, and looked at Millie. "Millie? What's going on?"

"She already has everything! She doesn't get to have you, too!" And with that, Millie raised her hands, and there was more flashing of her fingers. I looked down the street to Peach's body; gray smoke was swirling around her.

"Nick," I said, but he was looking at Millie. His face wasn't tranced-out anymore, though; he was pissed. He grabbed Millie's forearms and turned her to face him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Millie's fingers stopped moving, and I released a breath as I looked to Peach, expecting the gray smoke to be dissipating; instead, it was picking up speed.

"I'm not doing anything," Millie said, her voice cold and sweet as she raised her hands, her palms out, her fingers still.

Fury cut through me, and I whipped around in a wild circle, trying to catch sight of Cain, somewhere. He was there; I could feel the thick blackness of his power, darker and nastier than my own, almost as dark and nasty as the anger I was feeling.

"You want me, you son of a bitch?" I hollered into the street. "Then come get me! Leave them alone!"

As expected, there was no response. I hunched over and dashed to Peach's side, crouching over her as walnuts came at me from all directions; one zapped me in the head and for a moment, all I saw were stars. One got me in the shoulder; another on the hip. Then there was a concentrated, thunderous sound around me as they fell to the ground, lifeless. I raised my head just in time to watch as, one by one, they popped into puffs of gray smoke that dissipated into the air, as if they had never been there at all.

There was a touch on my shoulder, a gentle one, but still, I jumped and swung blindly at the attacker.

"Liv!" Nick said, jumping back, holding up his hands. "Liv, it's me!"

I fell back onto the patch of grass by the sidewalk and tried to catch my breath. I couldn't speak, I could barely breathe. My heart couldn't get a simple rhythm going, pounding erratically in my chest, and for a moment, I thought the fear alone was going to drop me right there.

Nick looked up and down the street, as if trying to get his bearings. "What the hell just happened?" He glanced down at the ground, where Peach lay on her stomach, and he made a hollow sound and dropped to his knees at her side. Gently, he rolled her over, looking at her bruised, unconscious body.

"What happened?" He looked at me, his eyes bright, almost fevered, as he dialed 911 on the cell phone. His voice shook a bit as he told them that we'd been attacked, and then he flipped the phone shut and tucked it in his pocket. He leaned down over Peach and pulled her into his arms, and she groaned as her eyes fluttered.

"Nicky?" she said.

"Yeah, baby." His voice got stronger, for her, and he'd even managed to inject his usual undertone of easy, good humor. "How ya feeling?"

"Ow," she said. "I'm feeling ow."

"I know." He ran his hand over the unbruised side of her face. "There are people coming to help. You just relax, okay?"

"What happened?"

A flash of disturbance ran through his expression, and he looked to me, a question on his face.

"You don't remember?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head, just a bit, just enough to tell me he remembered nothing without alarming Peach.

"Me, either," I lied. Seemed the simplest of all my choices.

He smiled down at Peach. "You're okay, and everything's going to be just fine."

He didn't remember. Probably, neither would Peach. It was only then that I thought to glance up and down the street - a street on which you couldn't open your refrigerator at midnight without Ginny Boyle or Frances Huddy commenting on it the next day - and no one had come out of their houses. I could see the flickering lights from televisions playing on some windows; in front of others were shadows of people passing from one room into the other. My neighbors were home, but no one seemed to have heard or seen or noticed a thing.

I turned my head the other way, toward the spot where Millie had been; there was no sign of her. I remembered her cold laugh, and the joy in her voice when she'd said, I'm not doing anything.

It had been a lie, of course; she'd done some of it. But not all.

It was him, the son of a bitch. He'd loaned her power, and when she'd pooped out, he'd tried to finish the job, until I got in the way. To kill Peach, he would have had to go through me, and he didn't want me dead.

Yet.

People didn't start to come out of their houses until the ambulance got there, and then all hell broke loose. A crowd formed around us, everyone asking what had happened, and none of us could say. Well, I could, but I didn't; I feigned amnesia to fit in with Peach and Nick, who genuinely didn't seem to remember. The EMTs treated Peach and put her in the ambulance, and Nick went with her. Ginny Boyle told me I looked like hell, and I should go to the hospital with them, but I declined. I had a tender spot on my shoulder, and my lip had split a bit on the lower left side, but aside from that, I was okay.

Well, physically, I was okay. Emotionally, I was a mess. Furious, helpless, terrified. Once the furor on the street died down, and I'd refused the many offers of hot tea, baked goods, and guest rooms in case I didn't want to go home alone, I went back into my house. I walked upstairs to my bedroom, where I found Gibson in his box, snuggled up with the little crane, who perched on Gibson's back, either dead or asleep. I put my finger under the crane's little paper feet, and it stirred, then moved gently onto my finger.

"Good boy," I said, hitting instantly on a name for him. "Good Niles."

I walked him downstairs to my front door. I put my hand on the doorknob and it took me a moment to find the courage to open it, but I did. I went out onto my porch and whispered, "Bring her here, Niles. Right now," and then pushed my hand up into the air. Niles flew upward, bounced off the ceiling of my porch, and then made his way out into the night. I didn't know if I could even give him orders he would follow at night. I didn't know if he could find her. I didn't know if he had enough magic or life left in him to make it past the end of my street. But sending him out was all I could do, and so, it's what I did.

I stood there on my porch for a while, looking up and down my street, trying to see through all the darkness. I couldn't, so I turned and went back inside to wait.

* * *

Davina showed up a little before midnight. I heard the creak of her footsteps on the porch and met her at the door. When I opened it, Niles flew inside and up the stairs to reconvene with Gibson in my room. Davina stepped inside, setting her heavy leather backpack on the floor.

"Well, something must be important, that little guy would not let me sleep - " Her bright expression darkened as she caught sight of me, and she reached out to touch my chin right below where my lip was split.

"What happened?"

"Millie," I said.

Davina pulled her hand back, her face awash in concern, but not surprise. "Walnuts again?"

"He used her. I don't think she even knows what she's doing. He put the whammy on Peach and Nick; they were there for all of it, they don't even remember." I stepped back from her and started to pace as I ranted. "Peach is in the hospital, and so is Frankie Biggs. What's going to happen next? He's going to kill someone. And for what? For me? For magic, power?" I shook my head. "This isn't my fight. I don't want it, I don't need it, but most of all, I can't win it." I took a deep breath. "I want you to snakebite my magic."

Davina's eyes went wide for a moment, and she slowly shook her head. "Oh, no. No, no. I told you, that's dangerous."

"I need this over. Tonight, with Millie ... I couldn't do anything. I was useless. And even if it was daytime, what would I have done? Turned the streetlights into bluebirds? Seriously, what use is that?" Tears welled in my eyes as my frustration and fear took over. "I'm scared. I want this over, now."

"Oh, baby." Davina patted me on the shoulder, but I winced at the tenderness there, and she pulled her hand back. "Sorry."

"I need this, Davina. I need you to take this magic away from me."

She was quiet for a long time, then slowly shook her head. "I don't even know if I can do it. And even if I could ... it killed Holly when Cain did it. What if...?" She trailed off, her eyes wide with anxiety.

"If it looks like it won't work without killing me, then we'll stop," I said. "But we can at least try, right? I mean, it's got to be easier if I'm willing, right?"

Davina sighed, and shrugged her allowance of the point. "If you're going to survive this, though, you have to be strong enough."

"I made raspberries into butterflies today. I made them circle around me, and then I took the magic back and dropped them all back into the dish. I had total control."

She watched me. "Really? So soon?"

"Yeah. I can do this, and I trust you, Davina. I know you won't let anything hurt me. But as long as I have this magic, he's going to keep hurting the people around me and I can't stop it." My eyes teared up again, and Davina grabbed my hand.

"You're sure you want to try this?" she said, her voice grave.

"Yes," I said.

She went quiet for a minute, then picked up her leather backpack and flung it over her shoulder.

"Then let's go."

"Oh." I followed her to the door, surprised and relieved by her sudden acquiescence. "We can do it now? You don't need to get ... I don't know. Supplies?"

She patted her backpack. "Since that attack, I've decided to travel fully stocked. I'm not taking any chances with you or your safety." She stopped at the doorway and turned to face me. "You can change your mind at any time."

"I'm not going to." I slid past her and turned to face her just as she pulled my front door shut behind us. "Where are we going?"

"Well..." She stepped out to the edge of the porch and glanced around. "We need a clear space, outside where we can catch some moonlight."

"I know just the place," I said, and led the way.

* * *

We walked the path to the clearing by the falls in silence. I kept my eyes ahead, listening to Davina's steps behind me to make sure she was still following, but I didn't look back. All I wanted was to get there and get this magic out of me, once and for all. I didn't care if I projectile-vomited pea soup for a week, this exorcism was going to happen. Still, even as my resolve held firm, my dread grew with every step we took. Whatever it was we were doing had killed my sister, and it was going to at least hurt, and likely a lot. But once I didn't have the power anymore, Davina could get out of town and Cain wouldn't have anything to stay for, and then everything here would go back to normal. I could go back to my job at CCB's, and I would be smart enough to be grateful for my boring, normal life.

"It's just a little farther," I said as we came to the last part of the path. We made our way up the incline to the clearing by the falls. I stopped and turned to see Davina surveying the area, her face inscrutable even in the bright moonlight.

"Running water," she said, sighing as she surveyed the brook.

"Is that bad?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I can work around it." She raised one hand into the air, fingers splayed as if she was feeling for energy, and breathed deep. As she exhaled, she curled her hand into a fist that gleamed blue in the moonlight and whispered a few words that I guessed were in the Latin arena - if ever I'd been out of my depth, this was the moment - and then she dumped her backpack on the ground. I looked around.

"So ... how exactly does this work?" I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, which had gone to gooseflesh. "Is it some kind of rite or something? You don't have to cut me or anything, do you?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Davina said, rummaging through her bag. "I'm going to give you something to drink, and you drink it. I'll do the rest."

"That's it?" I said.

"That's it." She unzipped her backpack and began to unpack it. Vials of this and canisters of that, a leather book thudded to the ground; the thing was full to busting and who the hell knew what all she'd brought?

You really think she's going to spit that power out once she gets it? a voice inside me said. The voice was mine, but I squelched it. I didn't need doubt right now. I'd made my decision, and I was moving forward. It wasn't like I was swimming in options; I wanted that magic gone, for good. Davina wouldn't let me die, I was sure of that.

Pretty sure, anyway.

I watched Davina, who was focused entirely on her supplies. She pulled out a tall metal canister full of white powder and poured it in a wide circle, mumbling more of the Latin-ish stuff as she did. It looked a lot like the stuff Peach put on her carpets to vacuum. I tried to focus on that instead of the increasingly creepy feeling I was getting. It couldn't have been later than two in the morning, which meant I'd have no magic to draw on if anything went wrong. Not that a random woodland creature was going to be of much help if anything went wrong ...

And that's when I shook my head. Davina was my friend. She was helping me. She was strong, and she understood what was going on. And like she'd said, if it got bad, we'd stop. All I had to do was say the word, and she'd stop. I was sure.

Pretty sure, anyway.

She finished pouring the circle, then stood in the middle, closed her eyes, and spoke a few more words. She opened her eyes again and they glittered in the moonlight as she stared at me across the circle. For a moment, her face had a wild look to it, more like a feral dog gauging its prey than a friend looking at a friend.

"You know," I said, taking a step back. "I think I'm going to need another minute."

She took a deep breath, then smiled. "I know it's scary, baby, but if we're going to do this, we should do it. We are running out of minutes." She started to walk around the edge of the circle, toward me, and I found myself stepping along the circumference, too, keeping it between us. She pointed toward my feet.

"Now be careful," she said. "You want to watch your step around that circle. If it gets broken, this could go terribly wrong."

I stepped back a bit, keeping an eye on the carefully drawn circle. "Wrong how?"

She stopped where she was, and I stopped as well, directly across from her. "What?"

"What happens if it goes wrong?"

"Won't go wrong if you do what I say," she said, her voice deepening.

"Okay, you're officially freaking me out."

She smiled warmly, and her voice softened. "I know. But it's for the best, right? I mean, you want to protect your town, don't you?"

"Right," I said. "So just ... close my eyes and think of Nodaway?"

She laughed. "Something like that." Her smile faded. "You know, if you want to turn back, it's not too late. But once we start ... well, then it will be tough."

I thought on that for a moment. Part of me wanted, very badly, to turn back. To run home, to crawl under my covers, and wake up in the sunlight and figure out another solution. But the rest of me knew there was no other solution. The next time someone got attacked, I would no more be able to stop it than I had been able to stop things the other night with Frankie, or tonight with Peach. And the next time, someone might get killed, and if they did, it would be my fault, and the very idea of that was way worse than anything I would be dealing with here, tonight. Davina wasn't going to let me get hurt, and this was the best shot we had at getting rid of Cain. Once I didn't have what he wanted anymore, everything would be okay. I just had to suck it up and get through to the other side; maybe I couldn't save the town from a rampaging redneck asshole, but this much, I could do.

"Let's get this done," I said, and took a deep breath, raised one foot, and stepped carefully over the powdered line, into the circle. I didn't realize I was holding my breath or scrunching my eyes until a moment later, when Davina said, "Gonna need to open your eyes, baby."

I opened them, and she handed me a water bottle. It was pink plastic, and had flowers on the side, which just seemed ... wrong for a potion.

"So, I drink this? And that's it?"

"Yes," she said. "I already said the prayers for your protection, and the circle has been purified. All you have to do is drink that, and I'll take care of the rest."

"How much do I have to drink?" I asked.

"As much as you can. What's in that bottle is your best shot at surviving this process."

I felt tears come to my eyes, and my leg muscles began to tremble. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

Davina reached out and touched my face. "I'm going to take care of you. You trust me, right?"

She's not your friend.

It was the memory of Cain's voice in my head now, and there was no way I was listening to him.

"Yeah," I said. "I trust you."

Davina smiled. "Good." She touched the bottom of the water bottle in my hand, nudging it toward me.

"Let's get this over with, okay?"

"Okay." I lifted the bottle, pulled the top open, touched it to my lips, hesitated, and then squeezed. "Oh, god," I sputtered, spitting and choking. It went down like fire, harder than any alcohol I'd ever tasted. Davina rubbed my back and said, "I know, but it's all we've got. Remember, this is what's going to protect you when we get started. You have to drink it or it's just too much of a risk."

The tears splashed down my cheeks, partly from the burning in my esophagus, and partly from the terror I felt, but I thought of Peach being pelted into unconsciousness by walnuts, and I thought of Davina surrounded by gray smoke in the forest, and I forced myself to drink.

The first thing I felt were my arms getting weak and shaky, and the tingling crept up them, starting at my fingertips and going into my chest, bringing along a cold, dark feeling. It was getting hard to breathe, and I was starting to feel a little dizzy.

"Just a little bit more, baby," Davina cooed. "You're doing great."

I put the bottle to my lips and forced a little more down, gagging a bit as I did. The world around me was spinning, and there was yellow light swirling around me in electric wisps, and Davina was sucking it in, her face glowing with the power as it infused her. And that's when I noticed that there was also something swirling around her: dark gray smoke. I started to stumble and it occurred to me, a little late, that perhaps I'd just done something phenomenally stupid.

A flash went up around us, bright red and crackling, and then calmed; the white powder that had made the circle was burning. I tried to speak, tried to ask a question, but my body felt like it was encased in iron, everything cold and too heavy for me to move. Davina grabbed my shoulders and I screamed as the pain slashed through me, like swords of light cutting from my shoulders into my chest.

"Hush, baby," Davina said, her voice thick. "It'll be all over in a minute."

I tried to scream again, but there was no air inside me anymore. I worked up the strength to open my eyes, and saw Davina standing over me, holding me by my arms like I was a rag doll, her eyes gleaming in the flickering firelight with greed and power and not a bit of concern for my obvious distress.

That can't be good, I thought.

I wriggled a bit, but she held on tight. That was when it first occurred to me that I was maybe going to die.

She's not your friend, Cain's voice said again in my memory, and I thought absently, You're right. She's not.

But now, it was too late. I was going to die, and I would be leaving what was certainly an insane person behind to do ... who the hell knew what? I felt pretty certain that saving the town wasn't as high on her priority list as she had led me to believe, though.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I thought, but then stopped as I realized that beating myself up wouldn't help things. I had to work with what I had, which wasn't much. I closed my eyes again, tried to get past the pain, and did the only thing I could think of doing.

I spit in her face.