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you want my help or not?” she asks.

“Yes please,” I say, chastised.

“Good. Then I’m going to offer you some magic options in case you discover that your cult is more sinister than sexy.”

I wave a hand at her. “Knock yourself out. But it’s not a cult. It’s a social movement.”

Nico nods approvingly while Hepa rolls her eyes. “I’m not the one going in to drink the Kool-Aid. That place is a cult.”

She continues to go through my stuff, and a moment later Hepa pulls my toothbrush from my makeup bag. “A cult where you’re not going to need this,” she says, tossing it into the trash can.

”Hey!” I shout, fighting the urge to dive after it. “I most absolutely will need a toothbrush in a sex cult!”

“Not that one,” Hepa says, shaking her head and pulling a different toothbrush from her pocket. “But this one will work just fine.”

“Why that one?” I ask, suspicious.

“Communication spells only work on objects made of bone,” Hepa explains to me, as if it were something I should already know.

“And where did you get a toothbrush made out of bone?”

“Well…” For the first time Hepa shows what I can only think of as guilt. “I may have made this one.”

“Out of what kind of bone?” I ask, my eyes narrowing further.

“Um…” she glances at it, then back at me. “What kind of bone are you most comfortable putting in your mouth?”

Nico snort laughs, and I swipe the toothbrush out of Hepa’s hand. “You know what, never mind. How does this thing work?”

“You talk into this end,” Hepa says, helpfully holding it up to the side of her face, the bristles near her lips. “And you’ll be able to hear Nico through this end,” she explains, tapping the handle, near her ear.

“Okay, so, like a telephone?” I offer.

“I mean, yeah, if you want to compare ancient magic to human technology,” Hepa huffs, tossing the toothbrush into my bag.

“Does it have extra whitening power now?” I ask.

“I’m not a dental witch,” Hepa sneers, leaving me wondering if this is a real thing.

“Show her what else you got,” Nico says to Hepa.

Hepa glares at him. She is not a Nico fan. On her first visit to the office I discovered that she and Nico went to school together at Mount Olympus Academy. I guess it was a pretty small school—everyone knew each other. But Hepa and Nico were definitely not friends. Curious, I asked for details but both of them said it was a long story. Like, novel length long.

Eventually Hepa told me that she didn’t really have anything against Nico in particular, but that she just hates all shifter men on principle. When I pushed for more details all she would say was, “Broken heart,” before stonewalling me again. Seems like maybe Hepa hasn’t always been so emotionally shut down, but I have a hard time imagining the shifter that scaled that wall.

Hepa plants her hands on her hips and waits until Nico sighs and turns his previous order into a question. While the two of them are distracted with their face-off, I tuck my clothes and Thunderstick back into my bag.

“Hepa, will you please show Paige the other magical marvels you’ve prepared for her?” He goes way over the top, using a mockingly polite tone.

I guess it’s good enough for Hepa, though, because she flips Nico the bird and then pulls a pretty clip from her own hair and hands it to me. It’s a simple banana clip with a gold-covered miniature tree branch atop it.

“Goes with my boho look,” I observe.

“Yeah, that was my number one concern,” is Hepa’s sarcastic response. She takes the hair clip back from me and closes her fist around it. “You just hold it and say the magic spell.”

“Cool,” I say, thinking how much my eight-year-old self would’ve loved this.

“Yeah, sure.” Hepa rolls her eyes, then adds, “Here’s the spell, My way is blocked, you must unlock. I have no key, but this door likes me.”

I repeat it after here a few times, to help commit it to memory, and then hold my hand out for the hair clip. “I think I got it. The rhyme helps. Are all your spells like that?”

“No, just the ones we make for dumb humans,” Hepa answers.

“Don’t go sneaking around unless something strikes you as fishy,” Nico cautions me.

“One last thing,” Hepa says and then disappears into the supply closet. A moment later she re-emerges with one of my brooms.

“Something for self-defense?” I guess.

This earns me an eyeroll. “I’m a witch. This is a broom. Guess again.”

I stare, wondering if Hepa is implying what I think she is. “It flies?”

“Oh good, I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you,” Hepa hands the broom to me.

A guffaw escapes me, but then quickly dies. I narrow my eyes. “You guys are being too good to me with the puns. Do you know something I don’t about this cult? Am I walking into my death? Is this how you get rid of me?” I ask, making eye contact with Nico. He just smiles in his usual perfect, charming, distracting, and completely infuriating way.

“Yes, the broom flies,” Hepa says, bringing us back to the point. “But only once and not for any long distance. A half mile, maybe a little farther. It’s meant for a fast escape if you’re in a tight spot and nothing else.”

“That’s cool,” I say, “but…won’t people think it’s strange I’m bringing a broom with me to a sex cult?”

“Um, hello, any and all kinks are welcome,” Hepa says, her patience for my stupidity coming to an end. “It’s a sex cult, and you’re a cleaning lady. Need me to explain why you’re so attached to your broom?”

“For your information,” Nico chimes in, “She doesn’t need the broom for that purpose. I happen to know that Paige just dropped some money on a high end vibrat—”

“It’s for masturbation, got it,” I say, snatching the broom from Hepa.

“Just to

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