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Drexford, Massachusetts. October 31.

Plush bats suspended in the front window, check. Jack-o'-lanterns lining the front walk, check. Broomstick propped next to the door, check. Halloween traditions are taken very seriously by the residents of Drexford—especially by its witches.

Dusk was falling. Soon the first trick-or-treaters would arrive at my cottage. I smoothed the folds in my gown. I hadn't needed to change into my witch outfit when I arrived home from the bookshop because I'd been wearing it all day.

Finn told me I looked more like a druid than a witch, but what does a vampire know? My moss-green gown was embossed with spider webs and herbs. The jagged edges of the skirt stopped short of my feet to reveal funky bootlets. I eyed the witch hat on the entry table and made a face. Surely just having it there was enough.

My gray tabby Edwina pawed at the brim. She loved to nap underneath it. Reason enough not to wear it. I lifted one edge and she darted inside. Soon only her face was visible. I could tell the kids she was my familiar.

The cottage smelled of cinnamon and allspice. My cookies were wrapped in cellophane and tied with raffia bows. Only one step remained. I stretched out my fingers, drawing in a little aether from the etheric plane, and then waved at the bats. Now their eyes were glowing amber orbs.

The doorbell startled me. The trick-or-treaters were early this year. I hurriedly picked up the basket of cookies and opened the door. The goofy faces of the jack-o'-lanterns smirked at me in the twilight, but where were the kids? As I scanned the shrubbery, listening for giggles, I heard a soft tap, tap at my feet. I looked down to see a wicker basket tucked next to my broomstick. Three large eggs were nestled on a cotton bandana. Cracks appeared on the shells as the taps grew more frantic.

I snatched up the basket and beat a hasty retreat, my heart thumping against my ribs.

I took the foundlings into my bedroom and slammed the door shut. The ostrich-sized eggs were pumpkin-colored with black spots, leading me to suspect a connection to All Hallows' Eve. I cringed at what might await me. No bird in Massachusetts has eggs that large.

I grabbed a towel from the bathroom, spread it over my new comforter, and then placed the basket on the towel. Bits of shell began to be ejected like projectiles. Edwina's plaintive meows to be let into the room would get her nowhere.

A dark slimy claw emerged from one shell. It stretched out as if reaching for me. More claws and long barbed tails quickly followed. I stared horrified at the dark mucous-covered creatures as they struggled to stand up. They looked a little like bats with short curved horns on top of their heads, large leathery wings, and spindly legs. Their large red eyes blinked at me like sleepy owls. As their indigo-black skin dried, it looked as sleek as a dolphin's.

I extended my hand, palm up, and the bravest of the trio clambered onto my arm, cocking its head as if to get a better look at me.

Fishing my cell phone out of my pocket, I pressed the speed dial for Finn.

"Hey, Tess. Whatever this is, can it wait?" he asked. "My band has a gig at the high school bash tonight."

I could hear voices in the background with demands for equipment. Finn owns the local guitar shop. He gives lessons on the side and plays in a band to help make ends meet. Only one other member is a vampire. Finn named the group Night Fangs, stepping right up to the line of the need to hide in plain sight. Witches, vampires, werewolves—we all live harmoniously with humans because they don't believe we exist.

"I'm in crisis mode!" The explorer jumped off my arm to rejoin its fellow fledglings. All three ungainly orphans were now gamboling on my bed as they exercised their wings. At any minute they could take flight. "Someone left me a basket of eggs, and they've hatched into what I don't know. They're already over a foot tall."

"Slow down. Are you talking about chicks?"

"I wish. More like magical gargoyles. Someone's practicing reckless magic."

He took an audible breath. Finn understood how dangerous this could be to all of us. Had similar baskets been left on other doorsteps? If a witch had gone rogue, none of us were safe.

"I'll come over as soon as I can, but it will probably be after midnight," he warned. "Will you be okay?"

"I think so. They don't seem threatening." If they started to attack me, I could suspend them in a mini-whirlwind. Not a pleasant experience, but they wouldn't be harmed.

"Hey, Finn, you coming?" someone yelled in the background.

"You need to go," I said. "I'll manage." The waifs appeared to have worn themselves out. They were now taking a nap, huddled together next to the basket. When their eyes were closed, their faces appeared blank and featureless. On the positive side, they were quiet. They would be, since I'd yet to find any sign of a mouth.

I rushed out of the room when the doorbell sounded. If this was a delivery of more eggs, I was sunk.

"Trick or treat!"

I smiled with relief at the fairy princess and her Spider-Man brother. Waving to the parents, on the street, I passed out cookies and pretended nothing was wrong. If I ignored the fledgling gargoyles, would they simply go away? They were magical creatures. Anything was possible.

Why had I been picked for the trick? The bandana in the basket was one we sold in the bookshop. It featured a Lord of the Rings design complete with Smaug the dragon. Was someone stalking me?

I was kept busy passing out cookies for the next half hour. At the first pause, I crept into the bedroom. The orphans were now perched on my dresser. Their likeness to gargoyles was even more striking. They'd grown in size and were now two feet tall with their tails dangling down the front of the dresser. Their eyes were closed. Perhaps they were nocturnal? I'd kept the overhead light on and that could have a calming effect.

What species were they? The etheric plane, the source of our magical abilities, is a sanctuary for creatures who usually don't appear on Earth. These foundlings were likely from that world.

In my neighborhood, the trick-or-treaters all tend to be young children. By nine o'clock, the street was quiet. I helped myself to a leftover cookie, plopped on the sectional, and turned on my laptop. Edwina promptly joined me, resting her chin helpfully on the keyboard. My best bet for help was Ghostnet. The dark network was set up by creatures at MIT in the '70s. Before then, we had limited resources. We mainly relied on lore passed down through families. But a few flagrant cases of rogue creatures revealed how vulnerable our community is to exposure.

In the 1960s, an alliance of witches, vampires, and werewolves as well as rarer creatures was formed in New England—a mutual assistance league. The movement quickly became global, and we now have members across the globe. A few years ago, a couple of werewolves at Cal Tech designed Casper, a social media app for us to connect.

Finn was a welcome sight at my door when he showed up shortly after midnight. The handsome vampire was wearing a black Night Fangs t-shirt and black jeans that looked molded onto him.

He peered eagerly into the cottage. "I don't see anything flying around." He stooped to pet Edwina who has a thing for any man in boots.

"That's because they're shut in my bedroom. The last time I checked, they were still asleep."

"Did Ghostnet help you identify them?"

"Alas, no. I couldn't find anything matching their description."

When I cracked open the door to my impromptu nursery, Edwina darted inside before I could stop her. She took one look at the waifs and flattened herself to the floor, her fur standing up in a sharp ridge along her back. Meanwhile, their eyes popped open wide. Their blank faces transformed into large gaping mouths with red wiggling tongues in the center. They let out a chorus of ear-piercing shrieks and I wanted to do the same.

Finn was stunned into speechlessness, as the foundlings launched themselves off the dresser and began circling the ceiling light. I scooped up Edwina and dashed outside the room, closing the door behind me. Evidently, as far as the orphans were concerned, cats were their worst nightmare.

Edwina promptly dove under the couch as soon as I released her. One problem solved. I wouldn't have to worry about her trying to make friends with the foundlings.

Finn slipped out of the bedroom door and joined me in the living room. "They resumed their perch on the dresser as soon as you left," he reported.

"Do you have any idea what they are?"

"The way they wrap their wings around their bodies reminds me of a fruit bat. Those spindly legs look almost human, and their faces ..." He slowly shook his head. "Before they opened their mouths, they reminded me of Lovecraft's description of nightgaunts."

"H.P. Lovecraft, the horror writer?"

"Yes. Have you read his works?"

"No, but a teenager was in the bookshop last weekend, asking for The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath. I chatted with him about it. He was particularly interested in the creatures Lovecraft described."

"Like nightgaunts?" Finn suggested, arching an eyebrow. "I read Lovecraft as a boy. In fact, one of the band members suggested we name ourselves the Nightgaunts. She read Lovecraft's description to us. As I recall, they have slick skin like whales, curved horns, bat wings, long barbed tails, and featureless faces. We could have nailed the look with black leather clothes although I wasn't keen on the tail bit ..." His words trailed off. "Was the kid in the bookshop a witch?"

"I don't know. It's an odd coincidence though. Many of us feel Lovecraft had psychic abilities, and the line between witch and psychic is murky. A Harvard historian is convinced that Lovecraft saw visions of magical creatures living in the etheric plane."

"Like your foundlings?" Finn looked at me with sympathy. "They need to be returned to their mama. Any ideas on how to accomplish it?"

"Our only lead is Logan—the boy I was telling you about."

"That could also explain why your house was selected," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's crushing on you."

"And he thought baby nightgaunts were a treat?" I snorted at the thought, but Finn could be onto something. Perhaps Logan didn't realize what they were. He could be lonely. He moved here last summer. Adjusting to a new school is often difficult. I'd helped him hunt for copies of fantasies from the past century. He'd once commented that dragons deserved much better fates. Did he have a soft spot for nightgaunts too?

I turned to Finn. "Since tomorrow's Saturday, he'll probably come to the bookshop. If he shows up, could I call you to come over?" Vampires have the ability to detect witches since they can smell the aether linking witches to the etheric plane.

"Sure. My sister helps out at the guitar shop on weekends. Will you be able to sleep tonight?"

"Currently, that's a low priority," I admitted.

"I could stay?" He grinned disarmingly. "You know I don't sleep much."

I gladly accepted his offer. Finn's presence made the uncertainty surrounding the baby nightgaunts seem much more manageable.

Were they hungry? What newborn wasn't? I'd read somewhere that emergency food for fledglings was cat kibble soaked in water. I prepared several bowls—dry kibble, kibble with water, and kibble with milk. I added a shallow dish of water and placed the tray of provisions on my bed.

Finn clicked through the selections on TV, finally settling on Ghostbusters. He claimed he only watched it for the music. I sat on the sectional next to him and researched Lovecraft. His biography was intriguing. His maternal grandfather, Whipple Phillips, had helped raise him. He educated young Lovecraft in the classics and also reportedly spun tales of weird creatures. Was Whipple a witch? Had he conjured up nightgaunts for the boy? The writer admitted having nightmares about them when he was young.

Whenever we checked on the youngsters, they were quiet, but they'd clearly investigated the bowls. Some of the kibble appeared to have been eaten.

Questions continued to spin in my mind but the bottle of Zinfandel Finn opened gradually slowed them down. Eventually, I must have drifted off to sleep. I awoke to the smell of coffee and him humming in the kitchen.

Over breakfast—toast for me, oranges for Finn, we plotted our next step. The bookshop was only a few blocks away. I could easily return for checkups on the foundlings. We photographed them but decided to hold off posting anything. If Logan had conjured them, he could get into a mess of trouble. Even more of a concern was what would happen to the babies. They were orphans from another world—not that different from E.T. Somehow we needed to send them home.

#

Tadmore Books, where I work, is the largest used and rare books seller on the Eastern Seaboard. The family-owned business opened its doors in the 1700s. The main location is in Boston, some fifty miles to the north. I like to think the Drexford branch is cozier and friendlier. We also handle online sales for the company.

Quincy Tadmore is the current owner. His father helped organize our league. Preference in hiring at the bookstore is given to creatures, with special arrangements made as needed. Nightgaunt tending had never come up, but I was sure Quincy would be sympathetic to my plight.

As expected, business was slow on the day after Halloween, giving me a chance to take down the decorations. I was so intent on rolling up spider webs, I almost didn't hear the jingle of the front door opening. I looked up to see Logan enter the bookshop. He was a junior in high school so I assumed he was roughly sixteen years old, but he was slight for his years. The hoodie and loose-fitting jeans he wore accentuated his youthful appearance.

He'd been a regular weekend visitor since the summer. Together we'd searched for obscure nineteenth-century fantasies. I refused to believe he had any malicious intention, but I didn't have any other lead.

I delayed approaching him, curious to see if he acted differently. After all, I only had the barest of circumstantial evidence to go on. But when I caught him flicking me a nervous glance, I felt on safer footing.

I set aside my tube of spider webs and went over to greet him. "Did you have a happy Halloween?"

"Yeah. I attended the high school party. The Night Fangs played. They were awesome!"

"A friend of mine plays lead guitar for the group—Finn Scranton. I'll pass on the compliment."

"He owns the guitar shop, right?"

I nodded. "He also gives lessons in guitar in case you're interested."

By his shining eyes, I could tell he was. If he was crushing on anyone, it was likely Finn. Would that help soften what was to come?

"How was your Halloween?" he asked, a look of merriment in his eyes. "Did anything unusual happen?"

"Now that you mention it, I found a basket of eggs at my doorstep. Do you know anything about them?"

He blushed. "I've enjoyed scrounging for fantasies with you so much, I wanted to add a little fantasy to the night." He didn't look worried. Did he honestly not know what the eggs were? I decided to play along.

"And you succeeded!" I gushed happily. "What can you tell me about the eggs?"

"They're ostrich eggs. I colored them myself," he added proudly.

"Are you sure they're ostrich eggs?"

He gave me a puzzled look. "Positive. I'd bought them at an art supply store. I thought you might think they were dragon eggs."

That explained the bandana he'd used in the basket. Should I be grateful they weren't baby Smaugs? "I didn't have time to," I told him. "They hatched within minutes of my finding them."

"They did?" He stared at me, horrified. "Into what?" he whispered, his face pale as a ghost.

"You and I need to talk. Let's use the reading room." It could be closed off for the privacy we'd require. "Finn would like to be present too."

#

"My great-grandmother had a diary of poems. They reminded me of Lovecraft," Logan said. "One of them was called 'Nightgaunt Invocation.'" He shrugged awkwardly, his face reddening. "For a moment, I pretended I was a wizard. I recited the poem, pretending I could magically transform the eggs. I didn't for a second believe I actually could."

"What was your great-grandmother's name?" I asked.

"Cordelia Phillips. She lived in Providence, Rhode Island. So did Lovecraft. I wondered if they knew each other."

"Do you know if she was a witch?" Finn asked.

"Witches aren't real," Logan protested.

"Yes, they are," I said. Finn had confirmed the boy's nature to me as soon as he arrived at the bookshop. "You don't need to pretend to be a wizard. You already are one."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Only a witch could have made the spell work," I pointed out.

"Are you a witch?" he asked. His eyes looked enormous in his thin face, reminding me of the waifs at home.

"Yes. As are several others in Drexford, including students in your class."

Logan turned to Finn. "Are you one too?"

"No, I'm a vampire. And we're not the only creatures in town. A few werewolf families also call Drexford home."

Logan swallowed audibly and turned to me. "Witches, vampires, werewolves—they're all real?"

"Yes, we are," I corrected gently. All in all, he was handling it well. Not easy for a teen to absorb that the world is much more complicated than he realized. We were taking a calculated risk by sharing so much. But Finn had argued over breakfast that Logan would be better off with a true picture than to find out in bits and pieces.

"We were unaware nightgaunts also existed," I added. "Based on your account, Cordelia was most likely one of the Phillips witches. Lovecraft's mother was a Phillips. You two could be distantly related."

"When my parents were killed in the car crash, I was lucky that my maternal grandparents took me in," Logan said. "My great-grandmother's diary is the only possession I have left of my father's family. This makes me feel closer to them."

"You're also part of our extended family now," I said. His high school had a club of creatures. He'd have plenty of friendly faces to help him adjust.

"Do my grandparents need to know?" Logan asked nervously.

"We advise you not to tell them," Finn said. "They likely wouldn't believe you and we'd be forced to deny any knowledge of it. That's the only way we can keep our members from being persecuted."

"That suits me," Logan said. "I gave them enough of a challenge when I came out as trans." He turned to me. "Can I see the nightgaunts?"

"Sure, and we hope you can send them back to their home."

#

Luckily, Logan had brought along the diary in his backpack. He'd intended to show it to me after telling me about the eggs. Studying Cordelia's diary would be all the thanks I needed for mentoring him. Logan and I had already connected through our love of books. We could build on that. Witches were usually taught by their relatives, but apparently Cordelia had never reached out to other witches. From what Logan told me, his mom was unaware of any witches in her family tree.

We rode in Finn's van to my cottage. Logan readily accepted being a witch, but hearing how different today's vampires are from their lurid portrayals was a shock. Modern vampires take meds to avoid drinking blood. Their diets are severely restricted. Feeding on humans or other creatures is a crime.

When we arrived, I asked Logan to show me the spell. Cordelia had undoubtedly used it to conjure nightgaunts. Had she summoned other creatures as well? She'd written a short poem after the invitation, calling it an undoing. In the original spell, Logan placed his fingers on the eggs as he recited the words. Now he'd need to keep his hands on three ungainly orphans.

When I opened the door to the bedroom, the youngsters were perched on the dresser. They eyed Logan curiously. Possibly they sensed a connection to him.

"They hatched from my eggs?" Logan whispered, awe-struck.

"Yep, welcome to the wacky world of creatures," Finn said cheerfully. We were both nervous that Logan might start to freak out over the revelations. Perhaps the full significance hadn't yet sunk in.

"Stand beside them," I suggested. "I'll take your photo."

Logan frowned. "I thought we were supposed to keep them a secret."

"Only from those outside our league," I explained. "Besides, if you showed anyone the photo, they'd undoubtedly believe you'd doctored it."

When he approached the nightgaunts, one of them—I like to think it was the same explorer who climbed on me—flew over to his shoulder. Its wings were impressively large. Logan had a blissful grin on his face. I guess I didn't need to worry that we'd traumatized him.

Soon all three nightgaunts were flying about the room. At this rate, we'd soon need a traffic controller. After a few minutes, Finn and I exchanged nods. We needed to speed them on their way before we grew more attached to them.

I held the book open for Logan as he scooped the trio into his arms.

When he recited the words, a translucent window into another world materialized on one wall. On the other side, was a nightgaunt about as tall as Finn. It was standing in a murky, wooded landscape. Although its mouth was open, we couldn't hear anything. Was it calling to its babies?

Logan opened his arms, and the youngsters made a beeline for the portal. The adult closed its mouth as the trio perched on its shoulders. Our last sight before the portal snapped shut was of them staring impassively at us. Their adventure was over, but Logan's was just starting.

* * * * *

Notes: Unintended Consequences was originally written for Wattpad's Halloween Vault 2022. I selected the following prompt:

"It's Halloween Eve when you hear someone knocking on your door. You think that it is a trick-or-treater, but when you open the door, you discover a basket of eggs hatching. What comes next is horrifying."

I became so fond of the characters, I decided to write a series about them. We next catch up with Tess and her friends a few weeks later as Thanksgiving approaches.

You'll find more about Ghostnet and the concept of cozy Cthulhu on the blog I share with Penna Nomen, Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation.

Chapter Text

I began mentoring Logan the next week. The high school junior loves books as much as I do. Hiring him to help out at the bookshop on Sunday afternoons works out well for both of us. Quincy, the bookstore's owner, is tolerant of our frequent breaks to practice magic since he too is a witch.

Logan is a special case. His parents are deceased and his grandparents don't realize he has any magical ability. He's just starting to explore the hidden world of creatures. A club of creatures at his high school is helping with the transition. Like most everything else in our community, it's a secret group. But from what Logan told me, they spend most of their time playing the fantasy board game Fleetnight Oracles. The challenge of explaining the creature facts of life is left to me.

"Do witches have any special traditions at Thanksgiving?" Logan asked me.

I stopped dusting the bookshelf to ponder how to answer. This was the sixth brainteaser he'd posed me that day. My tabby Edwina looked at me from her basket near the front window as if to say, "Don't look to me for help." Quincy had suggested I bring her with me to work when I remarked that she was getting lonely. The experiment had been a great success with both Edwina and customers, but I was on my own for tutoring Logan.

"We celebrate like everyone else," I explained, resolutely ignoring my family's unusual traditions. "We tend not to dwell on the Puritans as that can be a sensitive subject. Some witches equate Thanksgiving with a harvest festival but mainly it's a time to be thankful for our families. You're lucky. You have both your blood relatives and now your extended family of fellow creatures."

"I think I'd prefer to celebrate with my new family," he said as he straightened a shelf of fantasy paperbacks. "My grandparents invited my uncle and his family to spend Thanksgiving with us."

"You won't enjoy seeing them?"

He shook his head. "I met them at my parents' funeral for the first time. They insisted on calling me a girl. I doubt they've changed much since then."

"But your grandparents accept your identity. They could be a good influence."

He shrugged but didn't look convinced. "I expect you're going home for Thanksgiving?"

I wished I could. My parents were killed in New Orleans three years ago. I moved to Drexford when my great-aunt passed away, leaving me the cottage. Last year, I spent Thanksgiving reading with my cat Edwina and trying to avoid holiday movies.

I decided to invent a plausible excuse for Logan so he wouldn't feel sorry for me. "I usually spend Thanksgiving in New York City with friends." Books counted, right? I could stay in a hotel with a book theme. Only one problem—offhand, I don't know of any hotels in Manhattan that allow cats. I could probably find one in the suburbs to camp out. Most restaurants are closed on Thanksgiving, but a few fast-food places are open. Not the most thrilling option since I'm a vegetarian. My Thanksgiving feast could consist of french fries, ketchup, and ice cream.

Quincy strolled over. "Tess, I hope you and Edwina will come to our harvest celebration on Sunday." He gave me a sharp look. "You should be back from New York by then."

I hoped my smile didn't betray how flustered I was. Darn Quincy's super-hearing.

"Logan, you're quite welcome too," Quincy added. "This will give you a chance to meet my husband Ramesh. He owns the wine shop down the street. He's also quite a gourmet. Julieta will enjoy having someone her age present. I've already invited Finn and Olivia. No need to bring anything. The menu is already planned."

Julieta is Quincy and Ramesh's daughter. She's also a werewolf and a member of the club Logan belongs to.

Logan and I were quick to express our appreciation. After Quincy returned to his office, Logan asked me, "Is Mr. Tadmore's husband a witch too? Julieta told me she was adopted and originally from Costa Rica. I think she was trying to make me feel better about losing my parents."

"First off, call him Quincy. The only people who call him Mr. Tadmore are strangers. Ramesh is a werewolf. His sensitive nose and taste buds are very useful for his business. Do you think your grandparents will mind?"

"No, besides they'll probably be too busy watching football to notice I'm gone. Who's Olivia?"

"She's Finn's younger sister. She's a grad student at MIT and is interning at Trakton, the cybersecurity firm next door."

"That's a relief," Logan said, breaking into a smile.

"Why?"

"I thought she might be Finn's date. That would be awkward for you."

"No, it wouldn't," I protested. "Finn and I are just good friends."

"If you say so." Before I could clarify further, Logan added, "Practically everyone in the club wants to work at Trakton. I wasn't originally planning to go into computer science, but I'm starting to change my mind."

Trakton is one of the top cybersecurity firms in the country. Its specialty is identifying and tracking malware. It has contracts with companies that program the software to combat security breaches. By working exclusively for other companies, Trakton can maintain a low profile. Only creatures know that it also operates Ghostnet in its underground lab.

I'd noticed Olivia's car in the Trakton parking lot when I arrived at work. If Logan met her, it might quiet some of his questions. Bethan at the front desk could handle any customers. "Let's work in the back stockroom," I suggested.

"Okay," he said, looking puzzled at the change in plans. We'd already spent an hour in the main stockroom earlier in the day.

We returned to the storage area, which also served as our processing center for online orders. I directed him to stand in front of a vintage poster of Charlotte's Web hanging on a side wall.

Logan stopped me, his face flushed with excitement. "We're going to Ghostnet, aren't we?"

"Yes, and you're going to lead the way. You remember I told you that the connection witches have with the etheric plane is different for each of us. Just like everyone's DNA has a unique signature, so do our abilities. You can conjure nightgaunts from the etheric plane. If I read the same spell your ancestor left you, I probably wouldn't be successful."

He nodded, his expression also turning serious. "You can manipulate the wind, but you told me I likely couldn't."

"That's right. But not all our abilities are unique. For instance, all witches can dispel wards. That poster is actually a portal into Ghostnet."

Logan frowned as he studied it. "I don't see anything special about it."

"That’s because you're not using your third eye, your witch's eye. If you want to enter Ghostnet, you'll have to use your witch vision to release the ward."

I was confident Logan could do it. Although he hadn't used his third eye, he was aware he had one.

After a long minute of focusing on the poster, his eyes widened. "I see it!" He peered into the large room filled with cabinets and bookcases. "I thought it would look like a computer lab."

"That's next door," I said, stepping through the portal and beckoning him to join me. "Trakton's basement links with ours. This room is devoted to pre-digital lore. My responsibility is to digitize the books and manuscripts in the bookcases as well as preserve the originals. Our grimoire collection is housed here. Your great-grandmother's diary is in one of the bookcases along with spellbooks going back to early manuscripts. The most ancient one is an ancient Egyptian papyrus scroll."

I decided not to mention the enchanted books. Logan had enough mysteries to absorb for one day. The bookcases are all protected by glass doors. Worktables in the center hold my scanning equipment as well as bookbinding supplies.

"This will be a safe environment for you to practice with your family grimoire," I added. "We can start right after the holiday."

"Like conjuration?" he asked eagerly.

"Don't tell me you want to bring back those nightgaunt chicks!"

"No, they're much too young. But maybe their mama." He added a sneaky grin. Was that to reassure me he was joking? Or to make me think he was?

"She did make an awesome sight. But I'm sure she's much more comfortable in the etheric plane," I said firmly. "After all, we wouldn't want to rip her from her natural habitat." Plus, I really didn't want to deal with the repercussions of an adult nightgaunt in the bookstore.

"I wonder what the etheric plane is like," Logan mused. "It has nightgaunts ... perhaps it's like the Dreamlands." His expression grew even more animated. "You told me some believe Lovecraft was a witch. He might have had a vision of the etheric plane, and that's what inspired the Dreamlands."

"Are you sure you're not being overly influenced by Fleetnight Oracles?" I accused. The game blended elements from Lovecraft's stories with Middle-earth and Arthurian legends.

"Not possible," he declared as his eyes wandered about the room. I wondered what I'd say if he asked if we had a copy of the Necronomicon. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when he pointed to the steel door instead.

"Does that lead to Trakton?" he asked.

I nodded. "It's a small company. Most of the employees are creatures. Vampires mainly. They seem to thrive on a lack of sleep and often work at night. Olivia came in early today."

The door to the lab is controlled on our side by wards. Biosensor locks are on the Trakton side.

After Logan practiced his new skill of disarming wards, we entered the lab. Olivia was sitting alone in front of a bank of monitors. She's three years younger than Finn and, like every other vampire I'd met, unfairly beautiful. She could be a model, but she prefers to play down her looks, sticking with street clothes and eschewing makeup. Today she was clad in a Dire Straits t-shirt and jeans. Her long black hair was braided into a single tail.

She jumped up at our arrival and darted over to greet us. "I'm glad to finally meet you," she told Logan. "I don't suppose you brought any nightgaunts with you?" she added hopefully.

"Don't encourage him," I said. "I'm sure he'd love to oblige."

She tossed him a mischievous smile. "We'll talk later when Tess isn't around. I like your hoodie." It was emblazoned with the Fleetnight Oracles logo.

"Thanks, do you play?"

She nodded."Most every evening I'm online."

He gave an envious sigh. "My grandparents only allow me to play the board game."

"We should work on Quincy. His daughter Julieta likes to play the game. I bet she'd love the online version too."

I cringed. In my role of mentor, should I squawk in protest? But given all the other secrets Logan is concealing from his grandparents, this would be one of the tamer ones.

#

On my way home, I stopped off at the Sip & Savor to pick up a bag of pumpkin spice tea. The werewolf family running the shop specializes in flavored coffees and teas. They also have a small bakery with the best scones and muffins in town. The café is a popular meeting place. Not so long ago, it was where I met Finn.

Before I left New Orleans, I'd used Casper, the creature social app, to learn about locations friendly to our kind. The Sip & Savor received top marks. The day after I arrived in Drexford, I stopped in to buy some tea. Finn approached the counter to purchase a coffee. We started to chat, and before I knew it, we were enjoying scones together. After a messy breakup with a vampire in New Orleans, I'd vowed to steer clear of any romantic entanglements—especially with vampires—but Finn was so very tempting.

That day, the conversation simply flowed. Finn quickly became my closest friend in Drexford. He's never asked me out, but I don't think he's in a relationship. Perhaps I'm not his type.

I hadn't decided what I'd do on Thanksgiving Day this year, but I'd already nixed the motel idea. Surely I could do better than french fries and ketchup. The problem was that just thinking about Thanksgiving conjured up memories of me cooking with my parents. There were only the three of us in our coven. Most of the witches in New Orleans had moved to Baton Rouge after the last hurricane. Cooking our traditional Thanksgiving fare for just me would undoubtedly be bittersweet. Much better that I spend the day making a dent on my unread books than feeling sorry for myself.

As I made my purchase, I felt the familiar chill of a vampire. Finn gave me a friendly wave as he entered the shop. He headed for the bakery counter, and I decided to join him.

"I'm glad you and Olivia will be at Quincy's party," I said.

"We're looking forward to it. We don't usually celebrate Thanksgiving. It's not a holiday in England, and we never adopted the custom. Besides, neither one of us is much of a cook."

"Would you and Olivia like to come to my place for Thanksgiving?" Did I just say that? The words came out before I could stop them. No chance of taking them back now. "It won't be a traditional feast," I warned. "And I hope you don't mind Creole food. But I'd enjoy your company, and I still haven't paid you back for your help with the nightgaunt."

"I didn't do much, but I gladly accept anyway!"

#

On Thanksgiving morning, I got up early to make the roux for the gumbo. The day was overcast, but the fragrant smells and spices took me back to New Orleans. The memories weren't as sad as I feared. I'd made crusty French bread the night before. By the time Fin and Olivia arrived, the vegetarian jambalaya was in the oven and the gumbo was simmering on the stove.

Up to now, we'd never talked much about our backgrounds. Helped along by the Nouveau Beaujolais they provided, we opened up more than ever before. They'd moved to the States from England as kids when their parents accepted teaching positions at Harvard. The parents moved back to London three years ago, but by then Olivia was an undergrad and Finn had just opened his shop, so they stayed put.

I discovered that Finn not only sells guitars. He also builds them in a workshop behind his house. I'd assumed he was only into rock music but his real passion is for early guitars and their cousins. The Beatles and the Rolling Stones incorporated early music instruments into their performances. So did Olivia's favorite artist, Mark Knopfler. Finn hopes to eventually as well.

After dinner, I introduced them to another family tradition—making pumpkin beignets. I'd already prepared the dough and let it rise.  We sat around the kitchen table, cutting out the beignets with witch-hat cookie cutters that had been passed down in my family for generations.

The beignets only took a few minutes to fry. I was pleased to see I wasn't the only one sighing with pleasure as they melted in my mouth. And nobody seemed to mind the inevitable powdered sugar on our clothes.

"I hope Thanksgiving isn't the only time you make beignets," Finn said. "You've already got me hooked. I'm going to need a regular fix."

"Then you better come over for the winter solstice," I said, glowing at his praise. "Gingerbread surprise beignets are a Yule tradition."

"Can we be adopted into your family, please?" Olivia said. "In return, I'll keep your computer purring like Edwina."

"Deal," I said happily. " I hereby name you honorary Monceaux, with all the associated privileges—mainly eating."

"But next time, you'll have to let us help with the celebration," Finn said.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Your gingerbread beignets have a surprise. We will too, and that's all you get out of me," he said firmly, the effect softened by the powdered sugar clinging to his scruff.

They stayed to help clean up, and then Olivia needed to return to their house for an online tournament. When Finn offered to give me a tour of his workshop, I happily accepted. He had several instruments in various stages of completion. The workshop smelled heavenly with the scents of the various woods he used—limewood, walnut, hornbeam, yew, plus others I didn't recognize.

My gumbo of a family tree includes Breton ancestors. Singing folk music is part of any holiday. For my first Thanksgiving in Drexford, Finn improvised arrangements of a few of my mom's favorite songs. Was this the start of something wonderful or we were destined to be best friends? For once, I was content to just go with the flow.

#

By the time Sunday rolled around, I was ready to celebrate a second time. The bookstore was closed that day. Logan, Edwina, and I arrived at Quincy's midafternoon.

Quincy and Ramesh have a lovely old stone house surrounded by a couple of acres of woodlands. Plenty of space for their Silver Labradoodle Pepper to roam in. Quincy and Ramesh make an interesting contrast. Quincy is fair-skinned with light brown hair. His wire rims and rumpled tweeds accentuate his bookish appearance. Ramesh is a South Asian American and dresses much more stylishly.

Like vampires, werewolves are strict vegans. The meds they take to stabilize their natures are incompatible with blood. Instead of a turkey, Ramesh roasted whole cauliflower with turmeric-tahini sauce and pistachios. We had butternut squash soup with popcorn croutons, and bourbon pumpkin pie with pecan streusel. An assortment of wines accompanied the courses with cider for the kids.

After dinner, Julieta took Olivia and Logan to the game room to play Fleetnight Oracles, and the rest of us gathered in front of the fireplace in the living room. The house's interior is comfortably casual with leather sectionals designed to be flopped on. Discreetly displayed in glass cabinets is Quincy's collection of artifacts. His grandfather started the collection of historical pieces dating as far back as ancient Egypt. I assume many are magical. All the cabinets are warded.

Ramesh poured us glasses of tawny port. We were all mellow from the feast. Pepper and Edwina were dozing in front of the fire, and I was also getting a little sleepy.

When I heard a tapping sound on a window pane, I looked up to see a Pileated Woodpecker perched on the window ledge.

Quincy immediately went to the window and let the bird in.

Finn stared at the crow-sized woodpecker now perched on Quincy's shoulder. "Is that another pet?" he asked me.

"No, Quincy can communicate with woodpeckers. They're sensitive to the etheric plane. Many of the augurs in ancient Rome were likely witches who could communicate with birds."

"We haven't received a visitor in years," Ramesh said. "It's not necessarily bad news."

Finn and I exchanged looks. Judging by Ramesh's worried expression, that was exactly what he feared.

Quincy stroked the woodpecker's head, a thoughtful expression on his face. After a couple of minutes, the bird flew back into the woods.

"What did it report?" Ramesh asked.

"Someone's drawing massive amounts of aether from the etheric plane—much more than any of us use in normal magic. The significance is unknown, but we'll need to maintain a high alert. A witch could have gone rogue."

"Do you know the location of the person?" I asked.

"Not precisely. Somewhere in Cambridge. For now, we'll watch and wait."

I wished we could post an alert on Ghostnet, but we couldn't take the risk. The danger might come from a registered user. That's a constant danger to our community. Witches could take up dark magic. Werewolves and vampires could stop taking meds and lose control. The rougarou who killed my parents had been drawn out of the etheric plane by a witch experimenting with dark magic.

"None of us should leap to conclusions," Quincy said, looking at me as if he were reading my thoughts. He was aware of what had happened to my parents. "We should be thankful our community is so strong. We have the skills and resources to tackle any challenge. This could be someone who is simply experimenting. If it develops into anything worse, we'll deal with it then."

Ramesh clasped Quincy's shoulder.  We had no evidence of a direct threat, but I'd never been so thankful to be part of an extended family. If something wicked was heading our way, we'd fight it together.

Notes: They won't have long to wait to find out. Someone has designs on the winter solstice, which is only a few weeks away.

I posted links to the recipes for some of the food mentioned in this story on my blog. The post is called "Feeling Thankful."

Chapter Text

Quincy didn't see the woodpecker again, and after a few days, we all relaxed. Perhaps there was another explanation for the unexpected draw of aether. Global warming, for instance, could be weakening the shield surrounding the etheric plane. That could have the effect of making witchcraft much more powerful. It would also help to explain why Logan succeeded in conjuring three nightgaunt chicks.

With Yuletide coming up and nothing ominous being reported on Ghostnet, Drexford settled into holiday mode. The town center, with its historical colonial buildings and cobbled pedestrian streets, is an ideal backdrop for evergreen wreaths and garlands.  

But we quickly learned all was not well. A Grinch appeared bound and determined to cause mischief.

When Edwina and I arrived at Tadmore Books on Friday morning, I saw to my dismay that the Grinch had struck once more. Someone had tangled the holiday lights on my carefully arranged greenery in the window boxes. This wasn't the first time my outdoor decorations had been targeted during the night. Although I blamed it on the Grinch, I was being unfair to the green pot-bellied creature. No one knew who was responsible.

Quincy, the store owner, stepped outside to stand beside me. "I suppose it's a comfort to realize we haven't been singled out," he said. "As far as I can tell, every shop on the street has been similarly victimized at least once."

The police were of limited help. They hadn't captured the culprit and tended to laugh off the vandalism as a juvenile prank. Since nothing was irretrievably damaged, and no one was hurt, they had higher priorities.

"Shops and restaurants aren't the only victims," Quincy added. "Many of the houses in my neighborhood have also been struck."

"The surveillance cameras didn't catch anything. What we need is a night watch." The winter solstice was this weekend. I didn't intend to spend it redoing decorations.

"Already taken care of," Finn said, materializing seemingly out of thin air. None of the shops were open yet. No one was around to notice his sudden appearance, something he would have been careful to check out first. When you're a vampire, you don't want to publicize your preternatural speed.

"My sister and I organized a patrol," he explained. "She rounded up several others at Trakton to help out."

Olivia is also a vampire as are most of the techs at Trakton. Vampires thrive on little or no sleep. They're ideal recruits for night surveillance.

Finn frowned at my mare's nest of twinkle lights. "I'm sorry we didn't catch whoever did this." He picked up one of the strands of wire and began disentangling it.

"No one spotted anyone suspicious?" Quincy asked.

He winced. "We're not sure. Olivia caught a glimpse of someone wearing a bright green ski suit."

"I've been calling our prankster a Grinch," I said with a chuckle. I didn't dream that's who he actually is!"

"You could be onto something," Quincy said, taking my remark unexpectedly seriously. "Someone with a warped sense of humor could wear a Grinch costume to keep from being recognized. The Grinch had a change of heart in the Dr. Seuss stories. Let's hope ours does too."

I nodded as I smoothed a string of lights, but I wasn't optimistic. Whoever was responsible was undoubtedly gleeful at not having been caught. They wouldn't want to stop now.

"I know we agreed not to ward our decorations," Quincy added. "But after being hit three times, surely we've expressed enough solidarity with our fellow shopkeepers."

"Thank you!" At home, I'd already warded the hemlock tree in my front yard which was decorated with edible treats for the birds. No one had tampered with it. Did that mean the would-be Grinch wasn't a witch? Perhaps they simply liked birds.

It was still an hour before the bookstore opened. When Quincy left to protect the window boxes in front of his husband's wine store, I asked Finn if he'd like the same service for his guitar shop.

"I'd appreciate it especially since there's no way I could restore your decorations to their former glory." In Drexford, practically all the shops have window boxes. Decorating them for the holidays is an annual tradition. This year I'd helped Finn out with the task. I was particularly proud of the guitar I'd made out of grapevines.

"This will also give me a chance to give you your solstice surprise," Finn added nonchalantly. "You'll need it for tonight."

"What's happening tonight?" I'd invited him and Olivia to come to my place the next day for Solstice Eve. The following evening, Quincy and Ramesh would hold a Yule log celebration at their house. In addition to us, Logan's club at school was invited, along with the other employees at Tadmore Books.

"The rest of the surprise," Finn said cryptically.

How could I get any work done with a surprise hanging over my head? As you may have gathered, I was the child who always shook packages under the Yule tree. For a brief moment, I thought about shaking Finn. I could summon the wind, lift him in the air, and spin him around. By his grin, he suspected my impatience. Needless to say, I finished restoring those window boxes in record time.

#

"Ice skates?" I stared at the contents of the box in disbelief.

Finn nodded smugly. "Since you're from New Orleans and you moved here last spring, I figured you don't own any."

"Your assumption is correct. I also don’t know how to ice skate."

"You will after tonight," he promised.

"Brave words! I won't hold you to them," I said nervously. Mom used to say my ability to manipulate wind was to compensate for my lack of balance. Not that I hadn't admired the skaters on the outdoor ice rink in the town square. Winter had come early to Drexford, and the rink had been open since early December.

"You weren't here for Quincy's Yule celebration last year," Finn said. "They have a large pond in the woods behind their house. Everyone's encouraged to bring their skates. Trust me, you'll want to practice on a smooth surface first."

I focused on the more immediate puzzle. "How did you know my shoe size?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out."

"Is this some vampire ability I'm unfamiliar with?"

"Hardly," he snorted. "I had Olivia do a little reconnaissance in your closet when we were over for Thanksgiving."

"It's a magnificent surprise," I said, eyeing the pristine white skating boots. "I don't suppose you'll let me just admire them for a while?"

"Nope. I'll come by your house at eight this evening."

#

When the moment of truth came, Finn had to coax me onto the ice. He skated effortlessly backward as I clung to his hands like a skittish Bambi. If I'd been meant to skate, I would have been born with polar bear-sized paws for feet.

But the music was lively and the company superb. Finn was a patient instructor. To reward him, I used just a tiny bit of wind to keep myself from falling so much. I don’t think he suspected anything. Surely he wouldn't smell the tiny bit of aether I summoned? Besides, wasn't he taking advantage of his natural vampire grace?

My first lesson lasted for an hour, and by the end I was relying on magic more and more simply to keep upright. Once when I nearly careened into a couple skating arm-in-arm, I added a tad too much whirlwind effect. Spinning with reckless abandon, I covered a third of the rink before managing to fling myself onto the railing.

Finn kept pace with me, laughing all the way. "We better call it quits before you're asked to perform an encore. That last pirouette defied all known laws of physics, not to mention gravity. Aren't you the one always warning Logan to be cautious?"

I winced as I blew the hair out of my eyes. "You won't tell him?"

"Nah, it will be our secret. And at Quincy's solstice celebration, you can use as much of a boost as you want. We'll be surrounded by creatures."

We took off our skates and walked back to my cottage. I had aches in muscles I didn't realize I had, but I've come to realize that I'd happily make a fool of myself anytime as long as Finn was my companion.

He set a slow—probably for him painfully slow—pace. We stopped to admire the holiday displays in the shop windows. By now, it was close to midnight. A few snowflakes started to drift down. We had the sidewalk to ourselves. We weren't holding hands, but the night was meant for a romantic moment. Besides, it wasn't like we hadn't held hands before. Skating counted even if his objective had only been to keep me upright.

As I reached for his hand, he stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Aether, and much more than you were using on the rink."

He scanned the surroundings, his nostrils slightly flaring. Vampires not only have super-sensitives noses but their vision is also much sharper than the rest of us. At night, the difference is even more noticeable.

"The Grinch is on the roof of the post office!" he whispered. "Stay here." With that, he raced away, taking a flying leap onto the roof of the two-story building.

I'd only caught a glimpse of the vandal, but I was determined not to be left out of the action. No one was around to observe as I channeled the air around me to propel me upward.

Within seconds, I was on the roof, but Finn had already leaped to the next one. I flew over to stand beside him. No sign of anyone in a green ski suit.

Finn frowned as he scanned the rooftops. "I got to within twenty feet of him. He looked exactly like Dr. Suess's description—lime-green body, pot-belly, yellow eyes. And that laugh ... It was downright sinister. The Grinch looked at me, gave me the finger, and then vanished. He simply winked out of existence."

"That explains why your patrol wasn't able to catch him in the act. He's not playing fair."

"No, he's not." Finn turned to me. "Do you know of any witch who can do that?"

"No, but only a witch could draw the amount of aether you described." No longer a relatively harmless vandal, the Grinch was now a threat to our community. He'd disappeared for now, but I was sure we hadn't seen the last of him.

#

The next morning, I told Quincy about our experience. Was there a connection to the augury he'd received from a Pileated Woodpecker a few weeks ago? Birds had spotted a large amount of aether being drawn from the etheric plane. Could the aether be used to create a Grinch?

That evening was Solstice Eve. As planned, Finn and Olivia came over for dinner. I'd made a buche de Noel—a Creole vegan meatloaf with mashed potato bark and mushrooms. Afterward, we sat around the kitchen table making gingerbread surprise beignets. The surprise was a dark chocolate filling. We wore off most of the calories by skating that night. We kept a sharp lookout for the Grinch, but he didn't make a reappearance.

"Have you discussed the creature with Logan?" Olivia asked me on the walk back home. "I'm not accusing him but he is a conjurer. It could have been an experiment that went wrong."

"We did have a conversation about it, and I'm sure he's not responsible."

Finn frowned. "I wonder if the Grinch is from the etheric plane like Logan's nightgaunts."

That was an unsettling thought. Had Dr. Suess based the Grinch on a magical creature he'd seen? I hadn't heard that he was a witch. If he'd conjured a Grinch, possibly the Lorax and Wockets were real too.

We didn't spot any mischief-makers on the way home, and I resolved to shelve concerns about the Grinch till after the solstice. Edwina and I went over early to help Quincy and Ramesh prepare. We hung solstice lanterns made of twigs and paper from the trees around the patio and the pond while Edwina played with their dog Pepper. No need to worry about candles going out since Quincy and I used magic to illuminate them.

That evening, a birch Yule log burnt brightly in the firepit. Ramesh sprinkled wine over it to add fragrance. We wrote messages about our hopes for the coming year and cast them into the fire. Mine included a note about Finn. I wished I knew if he'd written anything about me.

Over thirty guests came to celebrate the solstice. This was one setting where the werewolves could shift freely. When we headed to the pond to skate, they transformed into wolves to gambol in the snow.

Ramesh had placed several slow cookers of various vegan stews on the patio. Hot Wassail and cider were available in abundance to keep us warm.

Finn and I took to the ice, and I only relied on a smidgeon of aether to keep me upright. Besides, honestly, there are worse fates than crashing into a snowbank with Finn landing on top of me.

Later that evening, I gave my ankles a rest by setting out desserts on the patio. Finn joined me. I suspected an ulterior motive. Did I mention most vampires have a sweet tooth?

I'd brought along pecan tassies to share. Finn studied the platter I'd set out. "Those mini-pies look a little crowded. I could do you a favor by eating a couple before the others arrive."

"What a thoughtful suggestion! How about this? I'll trade you a tassie in exchange for your singing my choice of song." Finn had brought his guitar to the party and would lead the group in carols later in the evening.

"I accept! I'll even—" He stopped abruptly, his face growing intent.

"What is it?"

"Trouble." He sped off without further explanation.

I dropped the plate of pastries and ran after him. I could now hear growls coming from the woods.

As I drew near, I saw the Grinch leaning over the smallest werewolf. The other wolves were snarling at it, but the Grinch appeared to have locked them in place. Finn tried to wrestle the Grinch away, but the creature shook him off.

I gathered aether into my hand and cast a blast of wind at the Grinch, hurling it against a tree. It wasn't even fazed.

Promptly leaping on top of me, it hissed in my face. I couldn't breathe. The air grew thicker as my senses swam.

Suddenly my lungs filled with air once more. Quincy was there, wrapping me in a cocoon of aether. Finn struggled with the Grinch while Olivia carried the unconscious wolf to safety.

Out of nowhere, a nightgaunt appeared. The dark indigo creature was taller than the Grinch. It launched itself at our assailant, wrapping its tail around its torso. The Grinch howled in pain as the nightgaunt tightened its grip.

Quincy twisted his right hand and hurled aether at the Grinch. Its appearance melted away, leaving a writhing blob of glistening green ectoplasm. A moment later, it vanished. The nightgaunt promptly disappeared as well.

#

We were lucky. No injuries resulted from our confrontation. The unconscious wolf was Quincy and Ramesh's daughter. Like me, Julieta had been incapacitated by the Grinch's breath, but we both quickly recovered.

Afterward, we gathered in the living room with hot drinks. Edwina had stayed inside during the outside activities, but seemed to sense something was wrong. As soon as I arrived, she clung to me like Velcro. The crackling fire added comforting warmth. Our solstice celebration had turned somber, and it would take more than the bright colors of our Yule sweaters and Edwina's purrs to lift our spirits.

"Did a conjurer summon it?" Logan asked.

"I don't think so," Quincy said. "I suspect a witch drew ectoplasm out of the etheric plane and then shaped it to form a Grinch."

Olivia arched an eyebrow. "We have a Doctor Frankenstein among us?"

I winced, loathing the idea, but she wasn't that far off base. I was completely unfamiliar with this type of dark magic. Finn was sitting next to me on the sofa. The solidity of his arm was reassuring.

"Did you conjure the nightgaunt?" Ramesh asked Logan.

He nodded nervously. "The Grinch was attacking my friends. It had to be stopped. As soon as the Grinch vanished, I sent it back to the etheric plane."

"We're all very grateful for your quick thinking," I quickly assured him.

"How did the nightgaunt know to attack the Grinch?" Finn asked.

"I didn't consciously give it any orders. Maybe it read my mind?"

"Or it might have felt you were being threatened and wanted to protect you," I suggested. Logan's connection with nightgaunts could be on a more profound level than I suspected.

Quincy turned to me. "Have you two been practicing conjuration?"

"No, but we've been working with his great-grandmother's journal."

"I've experimented on my own," Logan explained. "It's part of my ability. I thought I needed to know how to use it," he added, looking a little defensive.

"I agree," Quincy said. "We may all need all the tools at our disposal until we find the witch responsible."

"Why did the Grinch pick our solstice celebration?" Julieta asked. "Didn't it realize we present the greatest threat?"

"Perhaps it was testing us," Olivia suggested.

"Or it could have been bored," Finn said with a wince. "Vandalizing holiday decorations is no longer a thrill."

"You're assuming it's a sentient creature. That may not be the case," Quincy warned. "Someone else could direct its movements. When I stripped away the shell, only ectoplasm was left. I hesitate to call it a creature."

Did that imply the Grinch was a relatively harmless experiment or a trial run for something much more dangerous?

#

I returned to work on Monday. The flurry of shoppers meant that I was too busy to ponder what the future might hold. Logan was eager to practice conjuration, but it wasn't a subject I'd ever tackled. What other creatures might we awaken?

That evening as I was preparing to leave, I got a call from Olivia, asking me to join her at Ghostnet.

I headed to the Charlotte's Web poster in the storeroom and opened the portal. Olivia was alone in the Trakton computer lab. Ghostnet operations are mainly conducted late at night.

"I came in early to check on internet activity in Cambridge," she said.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes, but not what I expected. Take a look at this." She turned to the computer and tapped a command.

The screen dissolved into the image of a woman's face with dark russet hair, smoky eyes, and maroon lipstick. She wore a crown of some sort. After staring straight at me for a moment, she said, "I'm calling our first match a draw. The Grinch amassed several points at the beginning but I concede the nightgaunt was an effective countermove. Till our next game." With that, the screen went dark.

I turned to Olivia. "Who was that?"

"Morgana le Fay. She's a character in Fleetnight Oracles." Olivia worried her lower lip. "In the video game, Morgana is a sorceress character, but trust me, the Grinch doesn't exist in the game. Someone has usurped her image and is using her as an avatar."

"Where specifically did you find this? In an online chatroom?"

Olivia shook her head. "Someone—let's call her Morgana for now—hacked into Ghostnet code. This exposes a vulnerability to our system that our team needs to correct."

"It also means that Morgana is a member of our community and undoubtedly uses Ghostnet."

"She's treating this like a video game. That means the next challenge will be even more difficult if she levels up." Olivia smiled at me. "Are you ready to put on your game face?"

Was I? The glint in Olivia's eyes should give Morgana pause, but I was no gamer.  Should I learn how to play Fleetnight Oracles?  At my next tutoring session with Logan, I suspected conjuration wouldn't be the only item on the agenda.

Chapter Text

Enough with the hearts.

Logan made a face as he scanned the bulletin board by the Drexford High entrance. Whoever designed the poster for the Valentine's Day dance went overboard with hearts. And they were all laughing at him.

Those hearts had it easy. They simply floated around like balloons. They didn't need to summon the courage to ask Trevor to go out. Trevor just thought of Logan as a friend. They hung out in the same club because they were both creatures. Otherwise, Trevor wouldn't have paid any attention to him. Why should he?

It had taken Logan years to come out as trans. Dating was still an impossible dream. Then he learned a couple of months ago he was a witch. Before then, he hadn't known real witches existed. And not just witches. Werewolves and vampires were real too. All three types of creatures were in their club.

If only he understood vampires better. Would Trevor be offended? Logan didn't think vampires only dated vampires. On the other hand, Tess, the witch who was mentoring him, insisted that she and Finn were just friends, even though the two often seemed to be a couple.

Were vampires ever gay? The club members weren't much help. They mainly wanted to play Fleetnight Oracles. Hard to exchange life-changing revelations when you're battling orcs in a fantasy game.

"You thinking of inviting Trevor?"

Logan swallowed as he spun around to face Julieta. She was his closest friend at the club. Her dads lived not far from his grandparents' house. They usually walked home together. Julieta was a werewolf. Like him, she'd lost her parents. Quincy and Ramesh heard about her plight through the social app Casper and adopted her. She'd moved to Drexford a couple of years ago.

"Is it that obvious?" Logan asked, dismayed. Had Trevor guessed too?

"Only to me. You do a good job of hiding it from the others."

"You don't think he suspects anything, do you?"

"No, but don't you want him to? Trevor's nice. He's into fantasy games like you. He's attractive. What's not to like?"

"Me," Logan said bleakly.

She knitted her brows together. "Because you're a ...?"

"Witch, trans, nerd—take your pick." Logan did a quick scan but no one else was close. "I don't even know if he's into guys. Do you?"

"Nope. Want me to ask him?"

"Don't you dare!" As they exited the lobby, Logan zipped up his parka. Julieta already had put on her mittens and stocking cap. She was from Costa Rica and found Massachusetts winters a challenge. Trying to change the subject, Logan said, "How about you and Holly?"

She blushed. "We haven't discussed it."

"She could be shy. You could ask her."

"And scare her away? Never! Let's go to the dance as a group. No dates. Just four friends hanging out. We can take turns dancing with everyone."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Much safer. No hurt feelings. No awkwardness. He absently slapped the back of his head as he felt a sharp prick. "Do you see a bee around?"

"In February?" Julieta snorted her disbelief. "Owww!" She winced as she rubbed the side of her neck. "It got me too. Maybe it escaped from a greenhouse." She scanned the snowy surroundings. "Where is it?"

"Forget the bug," Logan said. "If it attacks us again, I'll zap it." He'd never felt so confident. "Is Trevor coming over to play Fleetnight Oracles with us this afternoon?"

"You know he is. Holly is too."

"Great! I'll invite Trevor to the dance. It will be our first date as a couple!"

"I'll ask Holly," Julieta said, smiling blissfully. "We can double-date."

Logan hugged her in his excitement. Why had he been torturing himself over Trevor? All those wasted weeks when they could have been together. Weren't those embarrassing dreams telling him something? Like it was time to wake up and live!

#

Quincy was closing the cash register at Tadmore Books when the bell attached to the front door jingled. He suppressed a sigh, hoping the customer wouldn't stay long. Today was his turn to get home early to start supper. Tess was working in the storeroom in the back. If necessary, he could ask her to help the customer.

"Hey, handsome!" Ramesh called out as he entered the store. "I couldn't stay away," he added, his voice deepening as he neared the counter. That sultry look in his eyes was usually only there when they were alone. Ramesh drew him into a tight embrace, his mouth demanding an answer that usually Quincy was only too happy to give.

This wasn't like Ramesh to be so forward, but who was he to protest?

#

Tess took Quincy up on his offer to close up and headed home on the early side. She dropped Edwina off at the house and then considered her options. Finn was probably still at the guitar shop. He'd lent her a CD of dulcimer music that she wanted to return. She'd never played the dulcimer, but he built them in his shop and had offered to teach her. He claimed they weren't difficult to learn.

After feeding Edwina, she retrieved the CD and headed for the guitar shop.

His band Night Fangs was playing at the high school dance this coming Saturday. He'd invited her to come along, joking she could play tambourine. She hadn't decided yet. Would the sight of all those happy couples bring back too many bittersweet memories of her ex-boyfriend?

Absently she swatted at something. Her neck started to throb. Had a wasp built its nest in someone's attic and now escaped? A lump wasn't forming, so it probably wasn't a bug.

She spotted Finn standing outside his shop and darted forward. His brown hair was pulled back into a bun. Those dark, smoldering eyes lit a fire inside her. What she felt wasn't simply the pull of vampire magnetism.

He turned to look at her. He'd undoubtedly smelled her from a block away. She hoped he liked the perfume she wore. But in the end, did it matter?

"Hi Tess, did you enjoy the CDs?"

There was only one response to that smile. She drew his head down and kissed him like she'd never kissed anyone before. Her senses went into overdrive as he returned the kiss. His momentary hesitation was simply surprise. He realized they were meant for each other too. Why had she waited so long?

#

When Logan spotted Trevor on the front walk in front of Julieta's house, he said, "I'll get the door." Not that Julieta was paying attention. She was too busy confessing her undying love to Holly.

Trevor's freckled face was flushed almost as red as his hair. Was it the cold or did he feel it too? "Sorry, I'm late. Did you already start the game?"

"No, I was waiting for you." All my life. "Would you like to go to the dance with me on Saturday?"

Trevor blinked. "Sure. I'd assumed we'd go as a group."

"I think we will, but I just wanted you to know how much ..."

Trevor had a bewildered expression on his face, but Logan had been wanting to kiss him for months. Surely he felt the same way.

#

Finn smiled down at Tess. In her sleep, she snuggled closer to his chest. His guitar workshop wasn't the romantic place he would have selected for their first time to make love, but she wasn't to be denied.

He'd been attracted to her since the first moment he saw her at the Sip & Savor, but he'd kept a lid on his desire. All vampires grappled with the need for discipline and restraint. The meds he took and his vegetarian diet served as a constant reminder not to give in to his instincts.

Tess hadn't mentioned much about her vampire ex-boyfriend, but Finn knew they dated for years. She was aware of a vampire's ability to charm. Finn was determined that if anything developed between them, she would initiate it.

And now she had.

He lingered over her delicate brown features. Her shoulder-length black curly hair was draped over his pale chest. Some vampires resorted to artificial tan preparations, but he'd never bothered. For a musician, pallor was unremarkable.

He pulled the padded guitar cover higher over her shoulders. She was sensitive to the cold. Did she find his low temperature uncomfortable? Tess turned to nestle her face in his side. He could remain like this for hours.

Suddenly she jerked upright, staring at him in shock. "Finn?" She looked down at her naked body and blushed. "Oh, jeez, can you ever forgive me?"

"For making love?" His stomach clenched at her reaction. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"I did, I mean, I do, but I don’t know what came over me. I never would have taken advantage of you."

"Hey, I don't think you cast a spell on me," he said, proceeding cautiously. "Your overture was unexpected, but welcome."

"That's just it. For several glorious moments, all my inhibitions disappeared, but now I'm myself again and I don't understand what happened. This is so unlike me."

#

"Don't apologize," Quincy told Ramesh as he reached for his house key. "Getting propositioned in the bookstore will go down as one of my major highlights for the year."

Ramesh groaned. "I don't know how to explain it. My downstairs brain was in overdrive."

Quincy turned and settled his hands on Ramesh's hips. "And I repeat, why is that an issue? You reminded me that we need to schedule more date nights." He waggled his eyebrows. "We could brown-bag our lunches tomorrow and meet in my office. Both of us have competent assistants who can manage very well without us for an hour."

"The way I felt, we'd only need a short coffee break," Ramesh said with a rueful smile that melted his heart.

"What was it that made me so irresistible? My sweater vest?"

"You always wear a sweater vest, and I love you in all of them. But as far as what came over me ..." Ramesh gave an awkward shrug. "Love was in the air?"

Quincy turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Julieta had mentioned that Trevor, Logan, and Holly were coming over to play Fleetnight Oracles. He expected they'd be in the rec room, and he saw a light coming from the staircase to the basement. But usually they had music on.

"I'll tell them we'll be in the kitchen," Ramesh said. "There's plenty of curry for everyone." He stopped, his expression growing intent.

"What do you hear?" Quincy whispered. Ramesh's werewolf ears were much more sensitive than his.

"Julieta's crying, and Logan doesn't sound in much better shape."

"Are the others there?"

"Hard to tell. We should check on them. I hope they won't think we're intruding."

Julieta was at that difficult age when sharing problems with parents was considered poor form. But she didn't cry easily.

When he and Ramesh headed down the stairs, they found Julieta and Logan sitting on the sofa. No sign of the others but their Labradoodle was sprawled next to Julieta, looking every bit as mournful as she did.

"Where are Trevor and Holly?" Quincy asked, pretending he didn't notice Julieta's red-rimmed eyes. "Did they decide to cancel?"

At that, Julieta burst into tears and hid her face in her hands.

"They were here, but decided not to stay," Logan said miserably.

Ramesh sat down next to him. "What happened?"

Logan made a face and turned to Julieta. "Do you want me to explain?"

"No, I'll do it," she said, blotting her eyes with the handkerchief Quincy gave her. "Logan and I invited them to go to the dance with us as our dates. I think we scared them off. I can't explain what happened. Logan and I had agreed on our way home to go as a group. A few minutes later, we changed our minds. We were convinced that's what they wanted too. Somehow I'll have to apologize to Holly."

"I know how ridiculous it sounds," Logan said. "I just hope we can mend fences."

"I may be able to help," Ramesh said. "Something similar happened to me."

#

"Could we have been bitten by a love bug?" Tess asked. Logan laughed but she was serious. When Quincy called her to ask if she'd experienced any unusual sensations, she hadn't wanted to say anything, but then when he described how Julieta, Logan, and Ramesh had been affected, she and Finn headed over to Quincy's house.

The only apparent common denominator was that they'd been stung by something, but that brought them no closer to understanding what was behind it.

The next day, Logan joined her in the Ghostnet archives to search for a possible magical cause. So far, they hadn't found anyone else who'd had a similar experience, but it wasn't the sort of thing you broadcast to the world.

Her lingering embarrassment was eased by the fact that a foreign entity was responsible. Logan's misery would take longer to get over. From the little he told her, she gathered this was the first time he'd invited anyone on a date. Ouch.

"Trevor was probably just surprised," she said. "You shouldn't take it as a rejection."

He glumly shook his head. "You didn't see the way he looked at me. Trevor may feel too uncomfortable to participate in the club now. I'm the one who should leave. It's my fault."

"Nonsense," Olivia declared, opening the door from the tech lab. The arrival of Finn's sister likely compounded Logan's misery. By now, he surely realized that vampires had much more acute hearing and that she would have overheard his remarks.

Olivia wore an Ace of Hearts t-shirt over her leggings. It had been designed by a girl at Drexford High and was being proudly worn by all those who weren't romantically attached. She dropped into a seat next to Logan. "I'll give you a break because you may not understand the pressures vampires face." She turned to Tess. "Have you told him about us?"

"No, I just found out he'd like to date one."

Logan hunched even lower in his chair. "No worries. I probably never will."

Olivia made a face. "Listen, kid. I bet Trevor likes you but believes he caused your burst of enthusiasm. Now he's wallowing in guilt."

"How do you figure that?" he demanded.

"Trade secret of vampires. I trust you won't spread it around. We can charm people to like us. It's an innate ability that we have to learn to suppress. Some say we developed it as a way to survive in a hostile world. When we go through puberty, in addition to all the other embarrassments—zits, flaming erections—"

"We get the picture," Tess said hurriedly before Olivia got carried away.

She grinned. "Okay, I'll keep it clean, but controlling the instinctual blast of charm is one of the hardest traits to master." Her expression turned serious. "Finn told me what happened. Your behavior was unexpected. Trevor likely thought he lost control. You shouldn't assume anything until you have a chance to talk with him." She turned to Tess. "Both of you need to get over it. We have a bigger issue to deal with. Who knows how many others have been affected."

"That's just it," Tess said. "We don't know of anyone else."

Olivia frowned. "So the same witch who caused the Grinch to crash our solstice party could be responsible. Kid, you need to come with me—" She stopped abruptly, her nostrils flaring, as Finn and Quincy appeared at the archive portal.

Finn waved a bug box at them. "Look at what just tried to sting me! It should have known better than to attack a vampire. Score one point for the home team!"

Edwina had already sensed something was off. She took one look at the new arrivals and bolted under the table. Ever since the nightgaunt incident, she'd become hyper-sensitive to manifestations from the etheric plane. But Tess wasn't about to miss out on the opportunity to study a new creature.

It appeared to be roughly the size of a bumblebee but flying back and forth so rapidly that its features were hard to distinguish.

"Can't someone make it stand still?" Olivia complained.

"Just watch me," Tess said as she pulled aether into her fingers and began weaving it into a mini-wind tunnel. "Put the bug box on the worktable and stand back," she told Finn. "I don't want you to get trapped in it too."

She twisted the strands of aether inside the box until the creature was immobile, suspended in a cocoon of air.

Olivia broke into a laugh. "A cupig is our culprit!"

Quincy frowned as he peered into the box. "Meaning a cupid pig? It does resemble a tiny flying pig."

"An adorable flying pig," Tess added, looking at the winsome creature. Its short curlicue of a tail ended in a sharp point. "Is it a real creature from the etheric plane or a fabrication like the Grinch?"

"My hunch is it's being controlled by Morgana le Fay just like the Grinch was," Olivia said. "Cupigs exist in Fleetnight Oracles. They inhabit a meadow where any adventurer runs the risk of being stung. If that happens, they lose control of their powers."

"This was the game Morgana challenged us to after we dispatched the Grinch!" Logan said, grinning from ear to ear. "And by capturing the cupig, we won!"

"It could also explain why only a few of us were stung," Quincy said. "But what's her goal?"

"I don't know," Finn said. "But I, for one, am much happier with a cupig in our midst than a Grinch." He turned to smile at Tess. "You could say this little fellow did us a service."

"Morgana could be testing us," Olivia suggested. "Or perhaps she's simply bored. What will we do with the cupig?"

Quincy reached for a camera from a shelf of supplies. "First we'll photograph it. Then I'll test it. If it's a real creature, it won't be hurt. But the odds are it's merely a blob of ectoplasm."

Tess had to remind herself not to grow attached to the cupig. Somehow it was receiving orders from Morgana. It could be her version of an android.

"Are you still getting messages from Morgana?" Logan asked Oliva.

"She tries, but she can't penetrate Ghostnet. My fellow techs and I outfoxed her with Merlin."

"The character from Fleetnight Oracles?"

She nodded smugly. "Morgana doesn't have a chance against him. When she tries to hack into us, Merlin laughs in her face."

When Quincy tested the cupig, as they suspected it dissolved into ectoplasm. Tess wished they could have kept it for a while. It hadn't harmed anyone. Getting rid of inhibitions wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Certainly not for her and Finn. But she worried about Logan and Julieta. Teen embarrassment isn't as easily overcome.

#

Logan anxiously watched the couples pour into the gym for the dance. He and Julieta were the first of their group to arrive.

"You'll dance with me, right?" Julieta asked, worrying her lower lip.

"You know I will. You haven't heard anything from Holly?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Don't feel bad. I haven't heard anything from Trevor."

"I wish the cupig had stung them instead," she said with a small sigh. "They know about us. We're in the dark about how they feel."

The Night Fangs were already playing. He and Julieta started dancing as they tried to forget about their misfires. The fast music helped to calm his nerves. He hadn't told Trevor yet about the cupig. Maybe he'd think it was a good joke and they could laugh about it together.

"Can I cut in?"

Logan spun around to see Trevor standing behind him, a nervous smile on his face.

Score another point for Cupig!

#

Olivia's hand hovered over the keyboard. Morgana sent them a message but it had been blocked by their Merlin firewall. Olivia decided to enter the quarantine room, the only area Morgana could access. She used her Fleetnight Oracles avatar, a feline wizard, to represent herself.

Morgana arrived a few minutes later. "Did you enjoy my cupig?"

"What's your game?" Olivia demanded, not deigning to answer.

"You'll find out soon enough if you pass my final test. But know this, I'm not your enemy. Spiders are your real foe. Look them up on Ghostnet and you'll understand. In Round 3, winner takes all."

Morgana's avatar vanished, leaving Olivia with still more questions. She'd already heard of spiders. The term had been appropriated by a group of rogue creatures who didn't abide by established ethics. Vampires fed off humans. Witches practiced dark magic, and werewolves made no effort to control their aggressive side. Morgana appeared to have inside knowledge. Why?

Notes: Olivia will have her questions answered in the next chapter, Winner Takes All.

Chapter Text

Olivia glared at the image of Morgana le Fay displayed on her monitor. "You said, and I quote, 'In Round 3, winner takes all,' months ago. What are you waiting for?"

So far the entity masquerading as an avatar from the game Fleetnight Oracles had twice employed magical creatures to launch attacks against Olivia and her friends. The first time she dispatched a malicious Grinch at Yuletide. The other attack featured a cupig who somehow neutralized inhibitions. When Olivia and her fellow creatures dispatched the cupig, Morgana issued her challenge. That was in February, nearly three months ago.

A horrible thought struck her. Did Morgana realize she was a first-year grad student at MIT? Was she waiting for her finals to spring into action?

Morgana claimed she wasn't their enemy. She insisted rogue creatures known as spiders were instead. But why should they believe her? Morgana could be the queen black widow ruling the nest.

Olivia cast her most threatening scowl at Morgana's image, exposing the tips of her fangs. It was a look guaranteed to strike terror in any human's heart. "I don't care if you're a witch. Don't mess with my finals!"

No more waiting around for the next challenge. What they needed was a preemptive strike. But how would they manage it? Olivia drummed her fingers impatiently as she reviewed the strengths of their team.

She and her brother Finn were the only vampires. For witches, they had Tess, Logan, and Quincy. Each had different abilities. Ramesh and Julieta were werewolves. Their noses were even more sensitive than hers.

On a Saturday afternoon, Tess and Logan should be working at the bookstore adjacent to Ghostnet. Logan's presence in particular was vital for what she had in mind. Who knew if her plan would work? But it would bug her until she learned the answer.

She logged out and strode over to the portal. If she were a witch, she'd be able to zap the wards with aether, but never mind. She pressed her right index finger on the biosensor lock and raced through the door with a speed that would appear as a blur to any non-vampire.

Logan and Tess, along with Edwina, were right where she expected—in the secret storeroom of witch lore. On Saturdays, Logan practiced conjuration under Tess's watchful eye. Olivia was about to give him an extra-credit assignment. Before they could greet her, she'd already sat down at the worktable beside him.

"I see that smile," Tess said. "You're up to something."

"I bet it's connected to Morgana," Logan added, his expression growing animated. "I want in."

"I decided we should take the game to Morgana, and you're just the ones to help me achieve it."

"What do you have in mind?" Tess asked warily.

"I figure she's about to launch another attack."

Tess furrowed her brow. "What makes you think that?"

Olivia thought quickly, unwilling to put her personal paranoia on display. "Morgana's last attack was the week before Valentine's Day. That was two months after the Grinch in December. Today's April 20."

"Meaning another two months have gone by?" Tess frowned. "There's a flaw in your theory. No holiday is coming up."

"That's why she'll pick something even more unsettling," Olivia declared.

"Like finals," Logan groaned.

Olivia beamed at him. She knew they thought alike.

"Let's not get carried away," Tess said, rolling her eyes at the suggestion. "I'm much more intrigued by the holiday connection. I'd wondered if she would attempt anything around St. Patrick's Day or the vernal equinox." Tess smiled ruefully. "I admit to being a little disappointed when I didn't find any leprechauns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows."

"May Day is coming up, but I don't know of any tempting targets associated with the event," Olivia said, cudgeling her brain to think of something.

"I do," Logan said excitedly. "The Green Man!"

"Who's he?" Olivia asked. "A version of the Jolly Green Giant?"

"Or another Grinch?" Tess shook her head. "Morgana wouldn't pull the same trick twice."

"The Green Man's neither," Logan insisted. "He's the personification of spring, of nature coming back to life after a long winter. I researched him for an English paper. Many cultures have a similar entity. Some think Tolkien's Tom Bombadil was based on the Green Man. A character called Jack in the Green was popular in Victorian England. On May Day, a person was designated to wear a conical frame filled with greenery."

Tess pulled out a notebook from her canvas tote. "Boston is having a book fair the first weekend in May." She opened the notebook. "The Back Bay Historical Society is holding a celebration on the Boston Common in conjunction with the fair. Among the special events are a maypole and traditional English dances."

"Tadmore Books will have a large booth," Logan told Olivia. "If Morgana wanted to send us a message, she might take advantage of the fair."

"By conjuring the Green Man?" Tess said. "He'd need to have a special ability to be effective."

Like jinxing our exams, Olivia thought gloomily.

"Is there anything similar to the Green Man in Fleetnight Oracles?" Tess asked.

"The game has a creature patterned on Ents," Logan said. "They're called tree shepherds. They turn violent if battles are waged in their forest." He turned to Olivia. "But even if we know what creature Morgana plans to send, how will that help us?"

"That's where you come in," Olivia said. "I made a list of our strengths, and it struck me that we're not taking advantage of yours."

"Which is?" he asked.

Tess snapped her fingers. "Your connection to real creatures in the etheric plane."

"Exactly," Olivia said, gratified that Tess was starting to appreciate the brilliance of her plan. "You were able to summon a nightgaunt when the Grinch attacked us. Somehow you managed to tell it what it needed to do. I'd like you to contact it once more. If you could persuade it to monitor the etheric plane, it could give us a heads-up when something unnatural—like that cupig, for instance—is conjured. None of us knows what the nightgaunt can do. Maybe its babies—the ones who hatched last Halloween on Tess's doorstep—could help. After all, we're their foster parents." She knew including herself was a bit of a stretch, but Finn had helped Tess with the nestlings, and since she was his sister, that gave her some sort of special status.

Logan was eager to test the theory, and before Tess could voice any objections, he'd summoned the seven-foot-tall creature. What a magnificent sight! Olivia was ready to sign it up for her team on the spot. This was her first chance to study the nightgaunt at leisure. It had bat-like wings, sleek dark skin, short curved horns, glowing amber eyes, and an impressively long barbed tail.

"What should I do now?" Logan whispered.

"Explain our situation in your head," Olivia urged. "Tell it about the cupig and how we'd like its help."

"Ask if it minds you contacting it," Tess urged. "Give it time to respond. You may be able to start a dialog."

Olivia waited eagerly for a report. Logan was motionless, his eyes fixed on the nightgaunt. The seconds dragged into minutes. If only vampires were mind-readers, she sighed.

Tess was staring at the creature as well, but a minute later she broke off. "I tried to make a connection too," she whispered. "But I don't think I got through."

Five long minutes later, a grin spread over Logan's face. The nightgaunt promptly vanished.

"She spoke to me!" he exclaimed. "She confirmed she's the nightgauntlings' mother. I asked for her name, and she suggested I give her one, so I named her Indigo. She's very curious about us and wants to know more. I've offered to meet with her. In return, she's agreed to monitor the etheric swamp for us!"

"Morgana doesn't stand a chance against us," Olivia declared. "She might as well go ahead and concede defeat."

Okay, maybe a little overly optimistic, but in Olivia's experience, attitude could be more important than any physical skill. If she could bluff an avatar into submission, why not?

#

Emerson College was hosting the book fair in a building next to the Boston Common. In Morgana's previous attacks, she'd ensured that their group would be aware of her creatures. She could have easily discovered that Tadmore Books would have a booth. It was a safe bet that at least some of them would be present on both days.

Would Morgana provide an overgrown tree shepherd or an animatronic creature cloaked in greenery? She claimed not to be their enemy, so Olivia doubted anything would go seriously wrong. Except to her finals.

The first of May fell on a Saturday and was the first day of the fair. Olivia figured that was also the most likely day for Morgana to spring her attack.

Wouldn't she want to stage a practice run? That's what Olivia hoped. She put their entire team on alert. Logan and Julieta had gotten permission to miss school so they could help set up on Friday. Olivia had classes in the morning but she joined the others in the afternoon.

She suspected—hoped—that any magical creature would manifest itself on the Common. Who wouldn't? The park was lush and green. A group of English traditional Morris dancers was practicing a clog dance on the lawn. Four large maypoles had been set up for the festivities.

When her cell phone buzzed, she whipped it out with preternatural speed. "Logan, what's up?"

"I got a signal from Indigo," he said. She could hear the grin in his voice. "I'm heading for the bathroom so she can manifest without others seeing her. Julieta will guard the door. Stand by for further updates."

Stand by? Who was he kidding? How could she when her plan was coming together? Every second was an hour. Why didn't she tell him to wait till she was there? So what if someone saw her zip by? She'd be so fast, they wouldn't know what they saw.

Finally Logan called her back. "What did you find out?" she asked breathlessly.

"Indigo saw a tree trunk covered in foliage rise from the swamp! That must be the Green Man! Julieta's already heading your way. She thinks she'll be able to smell the ectoplasm from a distance."

"Good thinking! Tell her I'm by the Frog Pond. I'll call Finn and Tess. You alert Quincy."

Olivia didn't understand Quincy's connection to birds. She was just glad he had it. He'd already spoken to a Downy Woodpecker who would spread the word among the other woodpeckers. Indigo wouldn't be able to follow the Green Man from the swamp, but the woodpeckers should be able to follow the trail of the immense amount of aether required to create a creature in the swamp and then dispatch it to Earth. If they could pinpoint the origination point, they'd have Morgana.

"What do you want me to do?" Julieta asked when she arrived.

Olivia hastily gathered her thoughts. "The Green Man may approach the dancers. Stick close to them."

Julieta nodded and sped off. When Finn and Tess arrived, they offered to monitor the wooded paths running through the park. Quincy wouldn't join them as he was working with his staff to set up their display, but he'd phone her any updates from the woodpecker contingent.

After weeks of impatient waiting, everything broke at once. Just after Quincy phoned in a report from his Downy Woodpecker scout about a massive stream of aether, Tess and Finn spotted the Green Man.

Olivia rushed over to see the creature. With a height of about seven feet, he was an impressive sight even at a safe distance away. The head appeared to be made of wood, but his eyes were a luminescent green. The rest of his body was covered in a conical frame of green ivy. It was impossible to see what his legs looked like.

"He hasn't attacked anyone," Finn said. "Tess and I approached him, but he didn't appear to notice us."

"We spotted him picking up a discarded candy wrapper," Tess supplied. "Perhaps litterers are his target."

Olivia grabbed her phone when it signaled an incoming text. She stared at it speechless for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Finn demanded.

"Quincy's birds traced the aether stream. It's coming from MIT!"

"Can they pinpoint the building?" Tess asked.

Olivia nodded, still shaken. "Where I take my computer science classes—the Stata Center. Morgana could be one of my professors!" She shook herself. She couldn't lose her focus now that they were so close. "You two keep watch on the Green Man. I'll take Julieta with me to reconnoiter."

Finn frowned. "You need us there too."

"I don't think so. Remember, Morgana said she wasn't our enemy. I'm assuming that means if we stage a covert action and track her to her lair, it's game over."

#

"That's the office!" Julieta whispered to Olivia excitedly.

Olivia cringed inside. "You're positive?"

"Absolutely. The smell of aether is much stronger than in front of any of the other doors."

It was late enough in the afternoon that relatively few people were in the corridors. This section of the floor consisted of professors' offices. Most were either teaching or had gone home for an early start to the weekend.

Olivia had been Julieta's spotter, checking to verify an area was clear before Julieta shifted into her wolf appearance. When she was a werewolf, her sense of smell was much more acute.

"What's wrong?" Julieta asked. "I thought you'd be thrilled."

"I am, sort of. This is the office of Nora Chang. I'm taking her class on AI. I'd considered her a role model." Olivia sighed her unhappiness. "Now I wonder if I did something to betray Ghostnet to her."

"I'm sure you didn't. She has to be a witch so she was undoubtedly already familiar with our network."

"Professor Chang's here on an exchange program with the University of Oxford." Olivia took a slow breath to calm her nerves. "I'll confront her. You don't need to come with me."

"Yes, I do," Julieta retorted indignantly. "You need a witness. Besides I can be very fierce if required."

Olivia was careful not to laugh. Even as a werewolf, Julieta looked too cute to be threatening. "All right, it's you and me."

"Wait!" Julieta grabbed Olivia's arm as she reached for the doorknob. "We need to tell the others first." She shrugged. "You know, just in case."

"Right, good thinking." Olivia gave herself a mental slap for not having suggested it. She was responsible for Julieta. She needed to start acting like it.

They quickly withdrew into a stairwell where she called Finn while Julieta reported to Quincy. To say neither one was happy with them going in alone was a major understatement, but if they waited, they wouldn't have the evidence of the aether stream.

Olivia refused to feel threatened by a professor she'd already consulted with numerous times. Her doctorate was in AI which was Nora's specialty. And that caused her to wonder if Nora was somehow combining AI with magic to create her creatures.

They returned to the hallway outside her office. Olivia didn't bother knocking on the door first. She strode inside, Julieta at her heels.

Nora, a woman in her forties with dark shoulder-length hair and piercing eyes, was seated at her desk, an open laptop in front of her. She arched an eyebrow when they entered. "Olivia, did you make an appointment?"

"Round 3 is ours, Nora," Olivia said. "Or should I call you Morgana? We have your Green Man under surveillance."

"My name's Julieta Tadmore," Julieta said, not waiting for Olivia to introduce her. "But I suspect you already know that."

Nora quirked a smile as she nodded in acknowledgment. "Congratulations. You surpassed my expectations. I knew I'd made the right decision."

"Are you ready to explain to us what this is about?" Olivia demanded.

"Please, take a seat." Nora waited till they'd pulled up two chairs and were sitting in front of her. "I already explained that spiders are our true enemy."

"And by that, you mean rogue creatures who refuse to tame their powers." If vampires didn't take meds and stick to a vegetarian diet, their desire for blood became insatiable. Witches who refused to abide by the guidelines of the alliance practiced dark magic. Werewolves off their meds could quickly spread panic.

"That's right. Spiders have been a problem in Europe for several years. Recently, we've heard of cases in the States. That's why I accepted the position at MIT."

"You claim to be our friend," Julieta said. "How do you explain the attack the Grinch launched on me and several others?"

"None of you were injured," Nora pointed out. "If the Grinch were a spider, you easily could have been. I belong to an organization dedicated to rooting out spiders and neutralizing them. We call ourselves Avalon. Our branches are kept secret to keep our members safe. I advocated starting a chapter in the States and have picked you and your friends to join us. Are you interested?"

"Possibly," Olivia said. "After we learn much more about you. Like, for instance, did you hack into Ghostnet?"

"Yes," Nora said calmly. "And you should know I've had all the members of your cluster under surveillance for months."

"What cluster?" Julieta demanded. "I don't belong to any group except my club and I don't think that's what you mean."

"Quite right," Nora said approvingly. "The cluster I'm referring to is the one Avalon selected as having the best mesh of talents. In addition to you and Olivia, Finn, Tess, Logan, Quincy, and Ramesh are also members."

Nora promised to send the Green Man back to the etheric plane. She claimed to be quite fond of her creation and didn't have any malicious intent, but why should they believe her?

Olivia tamped down her anger at Nora's cavalier ways. There was too much to learn from her. Like how she'd managed to penetrate Ghostnet's firewall. And who the members of Avalon were, assuming it truly existed. She could go along with the threat posed by spiders. But the rest of it? For all she knew, Nora was a double agent for the rogue creatures.

If that was the case, the only way to find out was to join Avalon and learn their secrets. There was no denying Nora was brilliant. And powerful. Quincy and Tess couldn't explain how she was able to craft entities out of etheric ectoplasm.

What Nora was offering wouldn't necessarily change their lives. She promised to give them the necessary training. If a spider was found, they were to locate them. Nora would then neutralize them by rendering them unable to access their special abilities. Olivia hadn't known that was possible. Wasn't that in itself enough of an inducement to sign up?

Notes: Thanks for reading!

Olivia is a vampire on a mission. She's confident she's pursuing the correct course. But will the others feel the same way when they find out? The answer's coming in the sequel to Ghostnet, Yidhra's Web. I hope to post it starting in June 2026.