Sweat trickled down my temples. My hands on my steering wheel grew slick. So slick, I doubted I needed the tape holding the button to my palm anymore.

Did whoever was driving the hearse somehow realize I was a witch and inconveniencing them by not being a rat? Were there two other hearses right behind that one? I couldn't tell. It took most of my concentration to keep Bernadette moving forward in a semi-straight line. It took the rest of my concentration to act easy breezy. That was ...