Veronica opened her umbrella before leading me to the sidewalk. She glanced back at the porch before murmuring, “Now can you finally finish telling me what happened in New Orleans? How much does a girl need to beg?”

I scanned the sidewalk and front yards as I opened my umbrella, knowing that with my car parked on the street, its license plate was on full display. Anyone looking for me would know I was home. Which meant it was probably wise to remove myself from the situation. Either my would-be assailant would set up to spy on me, learning my habits, before making a move, or he’d barge right into the house. If he barged into my mother’s house before I got back…well, Lord help him. There were worse ways to leave Earth, but I sure couldn’t think of any.

“Hello?” Veronica nudged me with her elbow. “I swear you are keeping something from me. What is it?”

I bit my lip. I’d told her about the touristy things I’d done and my chat with the old couple and their younger counterpart, but it hadn’t seemed right to share any of the magical stuff. I was still processing it myself. Besides, in light of last night’s forays, it was probably better if she could claim ignorance.

“Nothing. That place is creepy and fun…but creepy. It has made me see the world differently, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “I’m jumpier because I’ve been taken out of my mother’s carefully constructed bubble of protection. I just have to get used to it. I’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“You could seriously do with busting out of that bubble, yes. Although, with a woman like your mother, I have no idea how you’ll do it. You might have to run away.”

Now I wasn’t just biting my lip, I was chewing on it. I didn’t want to tell Veronica about my tentative relocate-to-New-Orleans plan. Not yet. She’d insist on coming with me, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not until I could learn to control my magic and protect myself. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was turn my best friend into a zombie or worse.

Thankfully, Veronica didn’t notice my discomfort. “Okay, so what happened since I saw you last? Because a few days ago, you didn’t freak out when I showed up by your door, and you certainly didn’t make your car buzz with electricity. It sounded like one of those electric fences.”

I frowned. “Electric fences don’t buzz.”

“Oh yes they do. Right before they shock you something fierce.”

“Right. Well, yes, they buzz when you are dumb enough to touch them, but if you don’t touch them, they don’t buzz.”

“They do. And your car sounded like one. How’d you do that? Does Toyota have a Batmobile upgrade or something? Because if so, I want it.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t hear any buzzing.”

She waggled her finger at me. “You better not be holding out on me. Because that’s a feature I could get behind. I wouldn’t even have to lock my doors.”

I smiled in gratitude. Veronica had always made light of the weird things that went on around me.

She clutched my arm. “There’s one. Quick!” She dashed forward to a sagging bright pink sign taped to the light pole.

“I don’t know why you hurry. They aren’t going anywhere.” I followed her, reading the sign. “What’s the problem?”

She yanked the cap off her black pen and sliced a small mark after the word Sunday. Sighing, she stood back to analyze her handiwork. “It was missing a comma.”

Satisfied, she clicked the cap back on and continued walking.

This was her neighborhood watch. Fixing the grammar and spelling on homemade street signs. Being an editor of fiction, she caught every last mistake, and it annoyed her until she could make it right.

No wonder she was my friend. She was as cracked as I was.

“What was Lewis Timmons talking about?” Veronica asked as we turned the corner. “Another one! Look at that. How people make this mistake is seriously beyond me. It isn’t even close! But I see it all the time.” She yanked off the cap of her marker. “How do they not notice something like that? It boggles my mind.”

She rushed toward the sign saying, “yard sard.”

I stood behind her as she made the necessary fix, telling her about my morning. Specifically, my mother’s antics—from pulling out my thong to stopping traffic to say goodbye. Veronica was guffawing by the end.

“Your mother is nuts!” She wiped away a tear. “Pure nuts. What is she even doing with herself these days? Wasn’t she thinking about getting a job?”

“She has a job. Haunting the house. That’s why she wasn’t concerned about my bringing a ghost home. Our house is already ruled by a poltergeist. No other entity would dare invade her territory.”

Veronica stopped, shaking with laughter. “It’s only funny ’cause it’s true.”

“But anyway, I don’t know what she’s up to these days. I don’t ask, and she doesn’t volunteer.”

“She’s only had…what? A total of five jobs since your dad died, right? Or less?”

I shrugged, a familiar pang tweaking my heart. My father had died when I was eight, an accident at work. The feeling of loss wasn’t as strong anymore, but I suspected it would never completely go away.

“About that many. I don’t know.” We meandered along the street, pausing once for Veronica to read over a sign. No adjustments to be made. “My dad left us plenty of money, supposedly. My mother is great at budgeting, as you’ve probably noticed. So she doesn’t have to work. But she does get bored.”

“She’s not working now, though?”

“No. Yet she doesn’t seem listless, so whatever hobby she’s newly developed is keeping her occupied.”

“Knitting?”

“She gave up knitting. Couldn’t figure it out.”

Veronica nodded and smiled. “That’s right. She stabbed the couch with a knitting needle in frustration.”

“Yes. She has some rage issues.”

“We got one. Oh wow, this is a doozy!” Veronica rushed forward to a “missing” sign featuring a black-and-white cat. The woman did not pull any punches when it came to grammar.

“Why are you still living with your parents?” I asked, digging into my pockets. “Don’t you make enough to move on?”

“Yeah. But…” She shrugged as she worked. “I’m in the old part of the house and my parents largely stick to the newer addition. They leave me alone. It’s like having roommates while also getting free room and board. I’m fine until you’re ready.”

“Until I’m ready?”

“Yeah.” She straightened up and surveyed her handiwork. “You won’t be able to move out of your mom’s place on your own. So when you’re ready, you and I can get an apartment. Rent is expensive and people are weird. We’d best stick together.”

My heart swelled at the same time as a strange itch formed between my shoulder blades. A car passed, kicking up spray that didn’t reach the curb. A child looked out, meeting my gaze.

I rolled my shoulders, but while the squishy feeling in my middle from Veronica’s offer eased away, that weird itch grew stronger. It felt like…eyes. Like someone watching me.

I turned, surveying the area. A shape in black, like a shoulder and the side of a head, disappeared behind the corner of a house up the way. Bushes swayed from the leg that had passed them. There was no path that way, no easy way of getting around. I doubted the homeowner would’ve moved around the yard in the same way.

Someone was spying.

“Ronnie,” I said, clutching her forearm. “Let’s go.”

“I just have these last two little slips to do. Honestly, are they too good for spellcheck?”

Shivers of warning replaced the itch. All I could think of was getting home. The safety of my house. But while my mother was a force all her own, I had to own that she was an older woman with nothing but a few knives and decorative swords. If that stranger did barge in, it probably wouldn’t go as smoothly as my imagination would like to believe. Spikes wouldn’t snap out from the walls and acid wouldn’t rain from the ceiling. Even so, everything in me said to get home as quickly as possible.

“We have to go.” I took two steps closer to Veronica when that itch came back. The shape hadn’t reappeared, but that wasn’t the direction of my third eye’s warning. It was across the street, down on the left.

I squinted through the falling rain, zeroing in on a messy hedge. The twilight messed with my vision and depth perception. The jagged holes seemed like wells of darkness.

Movement caught my eye, off to the right. I snapped my head that way, but whatever had moved was now out of sight. The street was deserted except for the lurkers I could feel but not see.

“When has this street ever been dead silent?” I asked Veronica in a weak voice.

She backed away from the sign, checking over her corrections. “It gets quiet. Everything around here gets quiet.”

“In the middle of the night, sure. But it’s rush hour. People should be on their way home from work.”

“Huh. You’re right.” Veronica put a hand to a hip as she looked up and down the street. Her umbrella swayed as she moved. “That’s weird. Maybe the weather is keeping people or something?”

Fear sparked deep in my gut as I remembered the deadened street from last night. The battle just about to kick off.

Again, my mother’s house called to me. It might not make sense, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but it was the only sanctuary I knew. That woman was a pain in my butt, but she always had an answer. Always.

“Let’s go.” I grabbed Veronica’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What’s the matter?” Veronica started moving, hurrying at my side. “Penelope Bristol, something has you spooked. What is it? What’s been happening lately?”

“Trust me, I wish I knew.” I cut through the grass at the corner, welcoming Old Man Pete to burst out of his house and yell at us to get off his lawn. At least it would be something expected and familiar.

“Speed up,” I said.

“Penny, you’re starting to scare me.” Veronica glanced behind her, making her umbrella war with mine. “Someone is behind us.”

I clutched her and spun. I could run fast, and for a long time, but Veronica couldn’t. She’d never run track and had hated gym. She’d be dead in the water. I couldn’t leave her behind.

I caught sight of the man immediately, a slight figure rolling toward us on a skateboard with a black hood shadowing his face. He stepped down to push his foot off the ground twice before he went back to gliding along, heading straight for us.

“Okay. Okay, think.” I racked my brain for anything that might help. Snippets of that zombie spell came to mind, and I searched for a piece that I could take apart and reword. My mother’s herb books flashed through my mind, and then the random volume tucked into her forgotten bookshelf. But as the figure bore down on us, nothing magical surfaced. I had no arsenal with which to protect myself.