Page 73 of Hex You

Xena shrugged. “Now I am simply a mortal feline. I can still shift my form. That is something imprinted into my soul. But I shall live the normal lifespan of a magnificent Maine coon who will someday frolic in the Summerlands with all of her Goode kittens, including—eventually—you.”

“Oh, Xena! No! I don’t want you to die!” Tears spilled down Mercy’s cheeks.

Xena wiped away Mercy’s tears and then licked her fingers. “Not to worry, kitten. I do not intend on dying for many years.”

“Khenti, turn your back,” ordered Hunter. He instantly complied, and she and Emily carefully helped Mercy out of her vintage tee.

“Oh, bloody hell. My cool Pat Benatar shirt is totally ruined.” Mercy grimaced as they pulled the sticky, ripped tee over her head.

“I’ll order you another one,” said Hunter. “Promise.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” Emily bent to get a closer look at the Nure-Onna’s bite.

“Amazing and gross?” Mercy asked without looking down at herself.

“No!” Hunter said. “Amazing and healed!” She turned to Xena and hugged her tightly again.

Xena stroked Hunter’s hair but said nothing.

Mercy looked down. Just below her clavicle were two bubblegum-pink scars. They were each about the size of a quarter and raised. Slowly, Mercy’s trembling fingers touched them.

“Do they hurt?” Hunter asked softly.

Mercy nodded. “Yeah, but not bad. More like bruises than bites.”

“Here are some alcohol wipes for that—um—snake yuck on you.” Emily tore open the pouches and handed the wipes to Mercy, who quickly cleaned herself before stiffly slipping out of her jeans and putting on her sleep shirt.

“You can turn around now, Khenti,” Mercy said before she shifted so that she could face Xena. “These words don’t seem enough, but thank you. I love you.” Then Mercy kissed Xena, first on each cheek, then her forehead, and finally softly on her lips—just like Abigail used to kiss them.

Xena’s yellow eyes filled with tears. “Oh, my precious kitten, you are most welcome.”

“Please live a really long time.” Mercy gripped Xena’s hand.

“Do not worry for me. I am healthy and vibrant and shall livequite a long life.” Xena’s gaze shifted to Hunter. “Unless I first starve to death.”

“Ohmygoddess! Okay! I’m making the soup!” Hunter said.

“I’ll add the tuna!” said Emily.

“And I shall remain by the side of my two favorite warriors,” said Khenti. “Should I put in the nextBuffyDVD?”

As one, Xena, Mercy, Hunter, and Emily said a resounding, “Yes!”

THIRTY

Hunter couldn’t focus on making soup or sit on the couch next to friends and family and watchBuffylike it was any other evening. Like they hadn’t just come face-to-face with another monster and a vengeful sea goddess. A goddess that wanted Hunter’s head on a spike and no doubt caused Mercy’s impending death. Instead, she stood in the kitchen, staring through bleary eyes at the bag of rice and carton of no-chicken broth she’d mindlessly taken from the pantry and set next to the stove.

You will live, though I cannot tell you for how long.

Xena’s words were on repeat, forcing Hunter to the brink of tears. The familiar had healed Mercy but only temporarily.

How long washow long? Twenty years? Twenty days? Would her sister collapse on the floor, writhing in pain, overtaken by the Nure-Onna’s poison in twenty minutes?

Hunter turned on the faucet and cupped her hands beneath the cool stream. She splashed her face and imagined that she was back at Goode Lake before her birthday celebration, before the death of her mom and the horror of Polyphemus. Before Amphitrite and thehungry spellbook and bloody hands and lost lives. Before this day with the Nure-Onna. Before…

Another cold splash.

If only there was a spell to go back. If only her magic worked as it should.