Girl's Guide to Witchcraft by Mindy Klasky

bound.”
    So much for feeling protective. I turned on Neko. “Were you going to say anything to me about this?”
    “Probably not.” He shrugged and pursed his lips into an air kiss. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
    I turned back to Montrose, feeling more than a little betrayed. “Look,” I said. “Why don’t we cut to the chase? Just for the sake of argument, I’ll say that I worked a spell. You’re the police, and I broke the rules. Do I pay a fine? Have to show up at witch court?”
    “You have to stop using your powers. Until you’ve trained with someone who knows the consequences of working magic.”
    “Well, that’s easy enough.” My relief actually felt something like a laugh. “I can promise you that I’m not going to work any more magic. Ever. This is all too weird. It’s not like I planned any of this, you know.”
    “No spells, then.”
    I nodded, relieved at how easy this was going to be. “No spells.” As soon as it was daylight, I would toss out every one of my beeswax tapers. I’d risk being without power in a dozen thunderstorms before I’d relive a night as strange as this one. And I’d figure out how to get rid of my…familiar in the full light of day.
    “I’ll be monitoring you,” Montrose warned.
    “You go ahead and do whatever you have to do.” I tried to keep my words defiant.
    Actually, I had about a million questions. How could he monitor me? How had he found me in the first place? How had he known that I’d transformed Neko? And how could he honestly expect me to believe that witchcraft existed in the middle of Washington, D. C., in the twenty-first century?
    Before I could even decide whether to ask my questions, my jaws tensed with a gigantic yawn that I barely managed to catch against the back of my throat. I cheated a glance at my wrist and saw that it was almost four o’clock. That thought made me even more exhausted, and the next yawn escaped. I remembered to cover my mouth, though. Gran would have been proud.
    Montrose must have thought that I was sending him a message. He set his mug down on the table with a decisive gesture and rose to his feet. “Of course, you’re responsible for whatever your familiar does—for all actions that he takes.”
    “Of course,” I said, trying to sound as if I negotiated magical responsibilities every day of my life. “I won’t be working any magic, so he’ll have nothing to do.” I glared at Neko, who managed a perfectly arched “who, me?” eyebrow.
    “And one more thing, Miss Madison,” Montrose said. I cocked my head to one side, still surprised by how odd my name sounded with his formal diction. “That.” He pointed to the counter.
    “The aquarium?”
    “The fish.”
    “What about Stupid Fish?”
    “Keep an eye on it.” Montrose looked at Neko, who became completely obsessed with picking a bit of lint from his spotless sleeve. “You never know what bad things might happen when you’re not paying attention.”
    Bad things. I glanced at the basement door and thought of the dozens of books down there, the countless spells that might result in any number of disasters. I shuddered and shook my head. “I’ll pay attention,” I vowed, silently promising never to set foot in the basement again.
    “Just make sure that you do,” Montrose said, and then he disappeared into the night.

5
     
    “Oh my God!” Melissa said. “What did you do?” She held up a finger before I could answer, turning to the counter behind her and picking up the pot of Toffee Kiss coffee. She filled a large paper cup and slipped on a finger-preserving corrugated sleeve before handing it to a ginger-haired man who looked like he was only just waking up, despite the fact that it was after six in the evening. He paid her with exact change and took the cup. No words were exchanged. Ah, the joys of being a regular. And Cake Walk had more coffee regulars than the Peabridge Library could ever hope to attract.
    When I had Melissa’s