"You mean ... Holly?" I said.

Davina's eyebrows raised up in surprise. "You know about her?"

"Yeah." My chest tightened a bit, and I said, "So it was that guy, Cain? He killed her?"

Davina nodded solemnly.

"And now he's here for me?"

"Well..." She sighed. "Yes."

I tried to process this information, but couldn't get anywhere with it. I knew I should be feeling something, but mostly, I was just hollow. "I don't understand any of this. What is so special about us that people are trying to kill us?"

"It's power, baby. Power is everything. All the killing, all the evil, all the tragedy in the world, it's all about who's in charge. The only thing that kept magic people marginally safe were the facts that the powers were usually fairly tame, and they couldn't be stolen. You were either born to it, or you weren't. As long as Magicals stayed closeted and didn't present a threat, it was okay. But then, your father got his power and he was ... different."

I leaned forward, hungry for details. "Different how?"

"He was the first known Magical who could manifest his power by will." She met my eye. "Do you understand what that means?"

"Nope."

"It means that there was no limit to what he could do. Most Magicals have innocuous powers. Some can make flowers grow faster. Some can maybe make things fly, set things on fire without a match. Simple things. Harmless, mostly. But imagine someone who could decide what power they wanted, practice a bit, and make it a reality." And here, her expression grew dark. "Imagine if there was a way for a non-Magical to force that person to will that power away."

I felt a shiver go down my spine. "But I thought ... you know ... free will, and everything. I thought that was important."

"It's important to the people who care about what the darkness does to their soul," she said, her voice low. "Some people care about the power more. Cain's one of those people."

"Okay, now ... who the hell is Cain?"

"He's a conjurer ... a witch, sort of. Someone who uses natural elements and potions to create magic, but who is not magical by nature." She gave a small, humble nod. "I'm a conjurer as well, although I really just dabble. I'm not nearly as powerful as he is."

I took a moment to absorb this. "So, Cain found Holly and killed her?"

"I still don't believe he intended to kill her. He's crazy, but not homicidal. It was an accident, I believe, an unintended consequence of stealing the power from her." She raised her eyes back to mine. "But now, see, we've got a problem."

"Now we have a problem? Didn't have one when he killed my sister, but now...?"

She nodded. "Since taking your sister's magic, Cain has been slowly losing his grip. The transition from day to night, from no power to power, it's taking a toll. But it's not like he's going to give up the power so..." She eyed me. "He's figured out another solution."

I thought on this a moment, then finished her thought. "Me. If he takes my day magic, he doesn't have to deal with the transition."

Davina nodded. "I knew he was searching, and so I searched, too, and I found you. That's what the test was about, the gym sock? The sneezing? I had to be sure it was really you. And then, you turned out to have day magic. You're exactly what he needs."

"No, no, I'm not anything," I said, standing up. "I'm going to find my father and have my powers bound and - "

Davina stood up as well. "It's too late for that. Cain's found you, he's not going to let you go." She grabbed my hands and held them in hers, nice and warm and comforting. "But there's good news here."

I stared at her. "Hmmm. Missing father. Dead sister. A crazed conjuring killer after me. Somehow I missed the silver lining."

"Well, for one, he won't try to take anything from you yet. You're not strong enough. You would die before he could get enough juice out of you."

I swallowed. "That's the bright side?"

She smiled, her expression calm and loving, and I felt my heart rate slow down a bit.

"You can fight him. With Holly, we didn't know what he was after, but now, we do. If you build up your magic, if you get strong enough, you can defeat him. You can take Holly's magic back from him, and then he won't be able to hurt anyone anymore."

I thought on that for a moment, then said, "Yeah, I like my plan better. My plan has European goats in it."

Davina sighed. "Your plan will take forever, if it works at all, which is unlikely. And the longer you hesitate on this, the more damage he's going to do."

"What do you mean?" I said. "You said he could only take me if I was strong. If I just don't use the power, if I don't get strong - "

"Walnuts," she said.

"Walnuts," I repeated, and then made the connection. "Wait. Millie's walnuts?"

"Not Millie's. Cain's. He took her as a conduit, a non-Magical you can run your magic through, but it comes at a cost. He promises them what they want more than anything in the world, and for that they drink a potion that allows him to gain power over them at night. With every conduit he takes, and he could take quite a few, he is able to draw on their life force to stabilize and increase his own power." She looked at me. "Do you know what it is Millie wants?"

I thought for a moment, but it didn't take long to figure it out. "Nick. She was attacking Peach." I rubbed my hands between my eyes, trying to ward off the headache that was forming there. "And I have them all coming over this afternoon for Confessional."

"Well, if it's the afternoon, during sunlight, it should be okay."

"One of my best friends is trying to kill another one of my best friends," I said. "It's not okay."

"Well, if we don't do something, it won't just be Millie," Davina said. "He'll do it to others, to gain power, to frighten you." Davina made a disgusted sound, then looked at me, resolute. "But now, we know exactly what we're up against. If you get strong enough, fast enough, you can fight him. And I'll be here, to help you, all the way."

I stood behind the easy chair, my hand over my beating heart. All I wanted was out. I wanted the power gone and my life back to what it was before. Or, whatever was left of what it was before. But if Cain was messing with Millie, how could I just stand back and let it happen?

Davina went to the coffee table, got my cup, and put it in my hands. "Drink this. Relax. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

I took a sip of the coffee and almost melted with the decadence of it; real cream, real sugar. I took another sip, then had a thought and looked at Davina. "So ... how are you involved in all of this? What's it to you?"

Davina released a heavy sigh. "Cain and I were both conjurers. We traveled in the same circles. I had known your father, and I went to Tennessee to keep an eye on Holly. I led him right to her." Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away. "This is my fault. I just want to fix it."

I stood there in silence, staring at her. My head was reeling. It was too much information, too fast, all of it floating like a bunch of puzzle pieces in my head that I was helpless to even try to put together.

"Well," Davina said after a bit. "I have to get going."

I glanced at the clock on the wall and straightened up. "Oh, okay."

She put one hand on my arm. "We'll figure this out. You finish that coffee, and have your friends over this afternoon. You're fine for now, so try not to worry."

"Oh, sure. No worry. No problem." I took another sip of my coffee as I walked her to the door. Damn, it really was good. "When will I see you again? You're coming back, right?"

She smiled. "Of course, I'll be back. We'll figure this out. He won't hurt you; I won't let him."

She gave me a hug and left. I closed the door behind her, sipped my coffee, and decided that I should have stayed in bed.

* * *

I sat hunched on my couch, feet on the coffee table, empty to-go coffee cup on my lap. I was staring dazedly out my living room window that looked directly into Peach's living room window when Stacy walked in, as usual without knocking. I heard her heavy construction boots thud through my hallway, and she plopped into the easy chair across from me.

"So, what are we serving? Do you need any help?"

I stretched my foot out and nudged the open box of Pop-Tarts her way. She nodded, grabbed a package, and ripped it open.

"Having a good day, are we?" she asked, breaking off a piece of one tart and popping it in her mouth.

I looked at her, my eyes taking a moment to focus on her, as they hadn't focused on anything since Davina had left, some three hours before.

"No, we're not," I said. "My life is kind of a big mess right now."

She sighed and set the tarts down on the coffee table. "Okay, let's have this out. I'm sorry about Tobias. When I slept with him, I didn't think you'd care, but then you guys started hanging out so much more - "

I raised my hand up and made a cross in the air, like a priest. "You are absolved. Tobias is officially the least of my problems right now."

"Really?" She sat back, eyeing me with deep suspicion. "Because I don't think it's a coincidence that you haven't spoken to me since the last confession."

"I sent you an e-mail about this week," I said.

"An e-mail is not talking."

I looked at her, reading some atypical softness in her expression. "You're being oddly sentimental."

"I'd walk in front of a train before doing anything I thought would hurt you. You know that."

I felt a surge of affection flood through me. "Yeah. I know."

She picked up the tart again, and pulled at the wrapper. "Good."

The doorbell rang.

"Come in!" I hollered, and a few moments later, Peach and her perfume wafted in, carrying a Tupperware container filled with what looked like big Peanut M&Ms, only pastel-colored.

"Hey," she said, her voice uneasy as she got a load of me and Stacy.

"Tart?" Stacy said, nudging the box toward her.

Peach sat in the love seat, her posture straight, her makeup perfect, her Tupperware container resting perfectly on her knees. The living room was quiet for a little while, except for the sound of Stacy's Pop-Tart wrapper as she broke off bits and chewed. Finally, Stacy nodded toward the Tupperware.

"Whatcha got there?"

"Oh. Right." She pulled the top off the container and set it in the middle of the coffee table. "Jordan almonds. Mom says we have to wrap them up in groups of five. Not four, not six. Five. I have no idea why, but she insists - we must have five Jordan almonds per guest." She made a face. "I think they're kind of disgusting. What do you think?"

Stacy and I both reached out and grabbed one, then popped them into our mouths. We chewed for a bit, and then right as I said, "Oh, god, no," Stacy said, "Elope to Vegas."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Peach said, then smiled. "What I want are these." She reached into her big tote bag, pulled out a bright orange folded paper bird, and set it on the table next to the almonds.

"What the hell is that?" Stacy asked.

"It's an origami crane," Peach said, her face lighting up. "See, you get a thousand of them, and decorate the reception hall with them."

Stacy raised one brow. "A thousand?"

"They're good luck, if they're folded by people who love you."

Stacy and I exchanged looks, and then I said, "So that would be us, then?"

Peach shrugged. "I guess ... if..." She trailed off. "I mean, if you don't want to..."

I reached out and picked up the dented orange crane. "Of course we want to, Peach."

"I mean, the wedding's not until December," she said. "There's plenty of time."

Stacy smiled at her. "You got it, babe."

Peach smiled back, and for the first time since last week's disastrous confessional, we felt a little like us again. I sat up straight and leaned forward.

"Okay, guys, I can't confess this week because ... well ... what's going on with me is just ... I can't talk about it. But I need a favor from each of you, okay?"

"Absolutely!" Peach said, and Stacy said, "Long as it doesn't involve eating any more of those almonds."

"No. It doesn't." I looked at Stacy. "You're good at research, right?"

She shrugged. "I'm a librarian. Research is pretty much the gig. Why?"

"What if I needed to find someone? You know, maybe someone who doesn't want to be found?"

She snorted. "Then you call a detective."

"I tried," I said. "No one will take my case."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Because all I have is a name."

She angled her head and watched me, her eyes sharp. "Who are you looking for?"

"My father."

"Wow," Peach breathed.

"You want me to find the famous Some Guy Named Dave?" Stacy shrugged with mock confidence and snapped her fingers. "Piece of cake."

"His name is Gabriel Ford. I don't know when he was born, or where. All I know is that he went missing ten years ago."

Stacy and Peach exchanged a glance, and Peach said, "Jesus, Liv. You have had a lot going on."

"It gets better. He had a daughter, my sister, Holly, who was three years older than me. They changed their last name to Monroe, and were living somewhere in Tennessee."

"Wow," Peach breathed. "You have a sister?"

"Had. She died a few months ago."

"Oh, honey." Peach touched my shoulder. "I'm so sorry. How crazy is that?"

"Pretty crazy," Stacy said, keeping her eyes on me.

"Can you do it?" I asked.

"I can try," she said. "Can't make any promises, but I'll give it a shot."

"Thanks." I reached out to pat her hand in thanks, but when I touched her, a sharp shock of static electricity zapped us both, and we yanked our hands back as we both cried out in pain.

"Shit," Stacy said, shaking her hand out.

"Ouch. Sorry." I rubbed my fingers together, trying to get rid of the residual sting, then turned to Peach. "And now there's you."

Peach smiled. "You bet, honey. Anything you need, just say the word."

"I need you to cool it with Nick," I said. "Take it down a notch with the wedding planning. Maybe make it secret again, just for a little while."

Peach's smile dropped. "What?"

"It's not for me. It's for Millie." I paused, trying to think of the best way to express that Millie had gone magically insane. "I don't think she's dealing with this particularly well."

"Well, I'm sorry about that, but what you're asking me ... is kinda nuts. We just came out publicly. I'm still trying to win over his crazy mother." Her eyes widened, and she looked at Stacy. "Sorry, Stace."

Stacy waved her hand dismissively. "It ain't slander if it's true."

Peach made a sad face, then turned back to me. "Look, I didn't know how Millie felt about Nick, but even if I did..." She looked from me to Stacy, then back to me. "He chose me. That's not my fault."

"I know," I said, trying to pick my words carefully. "I'm not saying forever, I just think ... maybe tone it down for a little while, until Millie stabilizes."

"Stabilizes? Have you talked to her? What's going on?"

There was a noise in the hallway, and Millie stepped into the living room, cutting all conversation dead. She was wearing a different dress this time, a soft, shimmery thing of that same deep red, with a surplice neckline, ruching at the waist, and a skirt that danced around her legs even when she stopped moving. Her eye makeup was smoky, and it made her look both older and younger at the same time; her mouth was a pouty red, and gave the impression that she'd just come from a lazy afternoon of drinking the blood of innocents.

"Sorry to startle you guys," she said. "The door was open. I came in during the heartfelt please-find-my-father thing, but I didn't want to interrupt."

Peach gave a quick, shocked laugh. "Oh, my god. Millie! You look amazing!"

Millie's smile was wide, but as she looked at Peach, it didn't reach her eyes. "I know."

Stacy, unfazed, held out the box of Pop-Tarts to Millie, who shook her head and said, "No, thanks. I just came by to confess something quickly, and then I have to run. You know, things to do." She locked her focus on Peach again. "I've been a very busy girl."

"Suit yourself," Stacy said, and set the box of tarts back on the coffee table.

"Mill," Peach said, standing up. "I've been trying to call you all week. I think we need to talk."

"Really?" Millie scrunched her nose. "I don't. Well, no, that's not exactly true. I think I need to talk, and you need to listen, Peach. See, here's the thing. Ever since we were kids, you've always been the pretty one, the one who got all the attention. I was the smart one, and that was okay. I knew that someday, someone would see how sharp I was, how efficient, how much I could anticipate his needs and meet them before he even had to ask. I just knew it would happen, if I was patient, if I waited long enough."

"Told you so," Stacy muttered.

Millie either didn't hear her, or didn't care; she kept her eyes locked on Peach. "I waited a long time, and that was okay, because I knew he would see me, eventually. But instead, like everyone else, all he saw was you." Her eyes glittered with malice, and I felt a chill go down my back. This wasn't Millie; whatever Cain was doing to her, it had not just given her power, it had somehow changed who she was, and it was creepy as hell.

I stood up. "Come on, Millie. Let's go out on the porch and cool down for a minute." I reached to touch Millie's shoulder, but she stepped back and waved me away.

"I don't need to cool down. I need to confess." She turned her cold eyes on Peach, and they flashed with rage and no small amount of insanity. "I need to confess that last night, after a long evening of going over the quarterly taxes, Nick and I had sex on his desk."

"Oh, god, ew." Stacy said, putting her hands up over her ears.

Peach blinked a few times, as if she'd been struck, and then she shook her head. "No. You didn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know differently? Was he with you last night?" Millie's voice was saccharine and cold as her thick lashes fluttered at Peach with mock innocence.

"No," Peach said, her color rising. "He was ... working late, but there's no way ... he would never..." She looked at me and Stacy, desperation in her shaking voice. "He wouldn't cheat on me. He just wouldn't."

"And yet, he did," Millie said, watching with unmasked glee as Peach's eyes filled with tears.

I stood between Millie and Peach. "That's enough, Mill. I don't know what the hell's going on with you, but it needs to stop."

"I see it differently," Millie said. "I think it took too goddamn long to start."

And with that, she turned around and walked out, heels clicking and hips swaying, like a woman who knew she was in charge. She shut the door quietly behind her, and I turned my attention to Peach, who stared after her, face awash in shock and hurt.

"Peach." I touched her, and when I did, a huge spark of static electricity went off between us. She cried out and stepped away from me, rubbing her shoulder.

"Jesus, Liv!" she said, tears falling freely now. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Then she grabbed her bag and ran out the door. I watched after her, shaking out my hands, which were tingling again.

"You know, I think maybe we should put a moratorium on the confessionals," Stacy said from behind me.

I turned around to look at her, and she shrugged.

"Just a thought."