“Ronnie needs the support of her friends and family. Her parents are out of the country on vacation because Luna’s birth wasn’t expected until next week. It will take a while for them to get here. We’re all she has.”

Officer O’Connor opens the front door and waves us in. Archie and I enter the beachy living room where Detective Jack Schmidt is questioning Ronnie and Derek. The space is always so cheery, but not today. Ronnie’s eyes are red and puffy, and her crimson curls spring up from her head in a frizzy mess. Derek has an arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tightly against his burly physique.

“I want to read my report back to you to make sure I jotted down my notes accurately. Around eleven, you placed your baby daughter in the bassinet, which is in your bedroom. When you returned at noon, she was missing. The window sash was up, but you said they were always locked. You didn’t notice anything unusual other than the open window. Did I get everything?”

Ronnie’s lips quiver. “Yes. Luna is a newborn—two days old. You have to figure out who took her soon. She needs to nurse.”

“The detective will figure out who kidnapped her, Ronnie,” Derek says, tearing up. “He has to.”

“I will do my best,” he replies. “We have an amber alert out now. I have to consult with the forensic team.”

I dart to my best friend and hug her. “Oh, Ronnie. We’ll find her. I promise.”

“I’m at a loss for words, Derek,” Archie says, hugging him. “Have confidence in the police.”

Derek sniffs. “I don’t get it. How could this have happened? They have the Baby Nabbers in custody.”

Because it’s not the Baby Nabbers. How do I tell them I had suspicions and hid that knowledge from them? They’ll hate me. Archie peers at me out of the corner of his eye.

“I suspect there are others connected with the kidnappings who roam freely,” he says. “But the Bearsden Police will do their best to get Luna back.”

Derek wraps his arms around Ronnie, and she cries against his chest. I tug on Archie’s DUB polo shirt and he follows me to a nearby corner.

“I have to tell her and Derek about Ashley,” I whisper. “And we have to alert the coven immediately to devise a plan to find Luna and rescue her. Seamus agrees this is the evidence we need.”

Archie rubs his whiskers. “We still don’t know it was her, Gwynedd. No one saw Ashley.”

My lower lip trembles while I stare at my despondent friend. “We must tell the coven. They can decide what we should do. I’ll honor whatever they say.”

Archie’s phone vibrates several times, and he reads the texts. “It’s Trinity and Leslie. I called them on the way here. They sent a group text out announcing an emergency circle for this evening, but they and the others asked to be updated as we learn more.”

I check my phone, which has been on silent, to discover several texts and missed calls from Tyler, along with messages from Trinity and the others. One of the forensic team walks into the living room and addresses Ronnie.

“Ma’am?” he asks. “I found this stuffed into the valance in the nursery. Do you know what it is?”

Ronnie glances at me but answers the investigator. “Yes. It’s a potpourri to make the room smell nice. If you excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” My best friend glares at me. “Can you go with me? I’m having trouble sitting on the toilet.”

“Sure,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Archie whispers in my ear, “You have to tell her.”

I follow Ronnie into the bathroom, and she whisper-shouts at me. “What the fuck is this? Derek said you stopped by before he picked me up from the hospital. You put this pouch in the nursery.”

“It’s a protection pouch. All these pangs from my sixth sense had me worried. I stuffed it into the valance to ward off a rogue witch. But I forgot a newborn is placed in a bassinet close by the first few weeks. I should have put one in every window. I’m so sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Gwyn? I expected more from my best friend. You put Luna in danger.” She blows her nose, and her eyes narrow. “This is your fault.”

The punch hits me straight in the gut—a knife inserting and shredding me into microscopic pieces. “You’re right. I should have. But I also didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. The intuition signals triggered more questions than answers.”

“So, the witch who was helping the kidnapping ring snatched Luna? Do we know who she is yet?”

I shake my head. “It’s not a nefarious witch. It’s a Tylwyth Teg fairy who has crossed over. She kidnapped Luna and the other children.”

“I’m confused. The kids are home with their parents. If a fairy took them, why would she give them back?”

“Because those children aren’t theirs. They’re changelings—like clones. The fairy steals the kids she wants and replaces them with duplicates. Jenny Hansen told me one day in the store the young ones were having behavior issues at school, and her infant cries all the time. She said despite having her DNA, she believed the baby wasn’t Daniel. At some point, the fairy will return Luna, but that newborn won’t be your daughter.”

“Do we know who she is?” Ronnie asks, wiping the tears from her face.

I hesitate but tell her. She has a right to know. “Archie and I think it’s Ashley Lewis.”

“What? The new DUB Celtic Studies instructor?”

“Yes. Lots of circumstantial evidence supports our theory, and Jeff has been standoffish at work recently. I’ve been asking questions to confirm my suspicions. I think he’s figured out I suspect her.”

“Would he really hide her guilty ass? We’re his family.”

“From what I’ve read, Tylwyth Teg females are attracted to mortal males. Who knows? She could have magical powers over him, and he’s not in control of his decisions.”

“We have to figure out how to get Luna back, Gwyn.”

Ronnie bursts into tears again, and I embrace my friend. She doesn’t seem to hold me responsible now, but I blame myself for being so cautious. If I’d told her and erred on the side of safety, Ashley wouldn’t have stolen Luna. Unfortunately, hindsight solves nothing. I’ll never forgive myself if we can’t get her back.

Chapter twenty-fiveFaulty Intuition

Around dinnertime, the coven convenes an emergency circle, minus Ronnie, of course. She’s too upset to be of much help, and she’s recovering from childbirth. Even a new witch mom needs time to heal. We don’t bother with setting up chairs. A standing meeting is all we have time for. When I finish sharing the evidence about Ashley Lewis and the changelings theory, my fellow witches mutter among themselves. Spence is the first to comment.

“That’s fucking ridiculous. Dr. Lewis is so scatterbrained. She’s lucky to show up to class on time. I mean, she’s a brilliant woman—fairy, if your theory is true. But don’t you think she would have covered her tracks?”

Skye rocks her head back and forth. “But think about it. She did. If Gwyn’s intuition hadn’t recognized her magic stream, we probably wouldn’t know. It prompted her to investigate further. Dr. Lewis may be acting disorganized as a cover.”

“I agree,” Archie says. “Gwyn had suspicions early on, and I dismissed them for the very reasons Spence has. If Ashley is a Tylwyth Teg fairy, she would have the cunning to present herself a certain way to avoid suspicion.”

Tyler interjects. “That’s true. But from what Spence and Skye have told me, Dr. Lewis would have to be putting on an award-winning performance.”

Trinity puts a hand on her hip. “Well, clearly, the Baby Nabbers are off the plate, even if it’s not Ashley Lewis. Those criminals are in custody.”

“Indeed,” Leslie says. “Unless some of them remain on the streets, unbeknownst to the authorities.”

Elijah nods. “No doubt about it. When one group gets put away, another crawls out of the sewers. Plus, we can’t rule out a rogue witch. There are too many variables to know for sure.”

“Isn’t there an easier way? Why don’t we just ask Dr. Lewis if she’s a Tylwyth Teg fairy?” Zoe asks. “She’ll either think we’re joking or she will act really weird.”

“We can’t confront Dr. Lewis without solid evidence,” Leslie replies. “We must be absolutely certain of her guilt before we expose who we are. Leveling accusations, we take on the risk of revealing who we are to an Unemarkable. Gwynedd, can you list all the proof for the Fellowship?”

“Her natural hair color is blond, but she’s been dyeing it brown to hide her true identity. She was present at the Pumpkin House for the Samhain Celebration. When I read her husband’s antiquated book on Welsh fairies at her apartment without her permission, she clammed up.”

Agnes’s face wrinkles like a prune. “That’s not fucking evidence of being a fairy, Gwyn. I fucking lose it if people breathe in the direction of my grimoires without permission.”