Author's Note: This story can be read separately or concurrently with part one.

Annie spent the flight hugging the toilet, her throat burned, it was scratchy from how many times she was sick. Her hair dripped in front of her face as she slapped water on herself and lathered her palms in bubbles. Passengers knocked on the door, she cringed then stumbled over to her and Jack's seats. Even the melody in her head gave Annie a headache meaning music couldn't relax her.

Jack's eyes softened. The cramped space meant Annie couldn't curl up in Jack's arms like she normally would at home or in hotel rooms. Instead, he rubbed her leg and asked if her illness was serious; airsickness wasn't a problem for her, in fact, Annie felt safer flying than when she was grounded.

He scrolled through his tablet checking dates. "We could cancel the tour."

Annie shook her head. "I've never canceled a tour and I won't do it now."

"Annie—"

"I'll see a doctor when we land."

She felt the vibrations, heard the plane's low, rumbling motors when no one else did. Annie hung her head between her legs, hoping some of her nausea would pass. Slowly, she turned her head toward the window, gazing at the clouds. The pink fluff softly blended into the orange clouds beside them. They morphed into slender ovals and cloud flowers, there wasn't a shape that the clouds didn't take.

But there was one Annie was surprised by.

Pastels blurred into gray and black. A cloud swirled. It drew itself from a dots to lines and then into a curled tail and into a body. From a void, a blob molded itself into head with pointed ears. It licked it's mouth with it's cloud tongue. The sun shone as if it were a pair of eyes.

The panther. Her panther.

He floated in the sky and pushed past the clouds to the side of the airplane. Annie's mouth gaped open, matching the cloud panther's yawn. And as quickly as it came, her panther evaporated away leaving nothing behind except for smooth sky.

What was going to happen to her? On cue, Annie clasped her hand over her mouth, she stumbled out her seat, tripping over her feet, and pushed the cart out of her way to the restroom. She thought she left her clumsiness behind in high school. The porcelain was cool against her cheek as she saw her meal again.

The clinic was cold. The tiles and walls trapped Annie in a void, but it was comforting now that the nurse left her. Her mind's melody flowed. It was a record that skipped and scratched in her mind since her tests came back. She drummed her fingers on the windowpane mimicking playing a piano as she waited for Jack.

Pregnant.

Annie slid her totem along her her chain necklace. A tour was the wrong time for a child. Soundchecks. Concerts. Hidden breaks in their hotel room. Was that when it happened? The pill hadn't failed before. How could it fail now? Annie couldn't picture a child; it didn't exist in her body. No. She couldn't even imagine it in her mind. A baby was far into the future, not in the present.

On the examining table the doctor had given Annie her results. She pressed her hands on her belly and imagined other possibilities. Annie was under a blue spotlight, but not for singing.

Nurses surrounded her. Doctors stood at both sides of her bed donned in colorful scrubs and giving her new directions to follow.

Both her legs ached as she pushed her legs apart. A masked doctor squatted in front of her with a midwife as his partner. Life was pulled and glided out of Annie, leaving her stomach sore from pushing so hard.

Pain.

Tiredness.

Relief.

Through her sweat she'd reach for her child when the doctors placed it on her. That warmth and love would swell inside her, and she created that.

But the changes her body would go through in the process? Morning sickness would worsen what she felt now. Over time, Annie would have to end shows before her leave began. Could she share her body with a baby with it? It would kick inside her. With bad luck, the baby would kick and claw its way out after the doctor took a scalpel to her stomach.

She could postpone her pregnancy until next year when she wasn't touring and the couple could try again. The cabin was better for a baby, not the city lights of Lisbon. This was the wrong time because Fi counted on Annie's visions during their investigations. They were also opening their spirit therapy clinic as well.

It was the wrong time.

Jack and the doctor's voices grew closer in the hall, she tugged on her sweater sleeves then drank the water the nurse had given her. Jack would make a great dad but her...a mother? Yes, she wanted a child but that didn't mean she had the skills to be one. The doctor let herself and Jack inside the exam room repeating they could leave out the back once they were ready.

"I think you'll like your wife's news."

Annie rubbed the crease of her arm where the needle was, a bruise was forming. She leaned against the wall and bit her lip.

"I'm pregnant. We're pregnant, Jack."

Jack beamed. He lifted her off her feet twirling her in a hug. They'd discussed children before, to him this news made the tour even better. Plus, Annie knew what she was doing, she'd command the stage and would likely do the same with their child. As his excitement faded, he gave her a soft kiss with a smile still on his face when he pulled away.

She hugged herself. He asked her what was wrong.

"I don't have to keep it. I'm coming back later to talk to the doctor," she said as she stepped out into the hall. "I just need time."

Jack brushed his hand through his hair. The neon exit sign led them to the alleyway, it smelled pungent but it was better than the stale, sterile air from the clinic. A swirling, whirling feeling grew inside her, it was a premonition her body wouldn't let her forget. Annie hated disappointing him like this; it matched her own.

Their rental car blared when Annie tried jerking the handle open. He clicked it off and unlocked it and continues asking Annie what was wrong. Her knee buckled, she went weak whenever Jack looked at her like that.

"I want this. I'd love Rikki if she came next year. Or he could have your hair and my eyes." Annie said. Her voice cracked along with Jack's,"Why now?"

He swallowed the lump down. "Rikki?"

"I never met Rick. I want our baby have a connection to him."

"I think he'd like that. Can I at least tell Fi."

Annie nodded then told him she'd meet him at the hotel, that she wanted some time to herself. When Jack drove away, Annie headed off in the opposite direction. It was the least she could let him do and she could chat with Fi later about how she felt about this. She went past the quieter shops and rested at a bus stop people watching those who walked by. Annie's gaze slowed and lingered on the dad and moms that pushed their children around.

There was someone inside her, it could have a something too. Her travels meant ghosts and goblins were drawn to her, and if she kept it who's to say she wouldn't give birth to a changeling.

Stalking by with glowing eyes an animal came out of the shadows. It's coat shined. The panther's growl rumbled in it throat, its roar left its mouth where it bared knife-sharp fangs. Annie felt its roar echo and vibrate through her, it tingled and tickled her from her fingertips to her toes.

The panther sauntered over to Annie and nuzzled her leg. He pawed her belly. The east wind rippled through his fur, this time it was real, velvet, and thick between Annie's fingers. None of this should have been possible, but she wasn't supposed to be pregnant either.

His voice was hers.

The black magic linked his thoughts to hers. It was masculine, feminine, his roar was both, it was neither. It sang and spoke and growled in her mind. Dangerous magic is within you. Don't let it abuse you. The panther hadn't touched her since Peru, nor had it spoken again.

Instead, he stalked away evaporating behind a sweet shop. After all these years her guide was never wrong.

Papers and textbooks were scattered on the bakery coffee table. Maya hunched over them threading her fingers through her hair and wondered which subject she should restart again.

Whenever she pulled out her phone, Lucas slipped it out of her hands replacing it with the heaviest book. If Maya had her way, she'd pour their smoothies over these letters and numbers. Not helping matters is that none of her other friends could tutor her in her summer school homework.

Zay had returned to Texas for the summer while Smackle and Farkle attended a nerd camp. Riley was the best option because she took time in explaining everything to Maya. However, Riley was having an adventure of her own. That left Lucas, who volunteered because assistant teaching looked good to colleges.

These numbers taunted Maya, they made her head throb having to think of a solution. (And because they made her think in general.) And Lucas was a harsh teacher, refusing to let her quit or do something fun.

Softball was fun, she'd pitch the ball wishing he'd miss. Movies were fun, they'd get kicked out for spoiling the ending and their games her fun; after all, she'd win every argument and get under his skin.

Lucas came back with their second round of smoothies.

"So how'd your mom take it when you told her you and Riley are dating?"

Maya swatted her hand. "Mrs. Matthews was fine with it. She asked if I was designing our dresses."

Lucas cocked his eyebrow and twisted around, seeing Katy take orders and busing tables.

"Your mom's behind us."

"Riles doesn't mind sharing her mom with me."

Lucas shrugged, unsure if what Maya said was true. Still, he gave her back her phone and she kicked up her feet on top the table. She scrolled through her phone focusing on the photos and texts Riley had sent her.

"When's Riley coming back from Sweden?"

"Next week." She wished the Hunters could've taken Maya with them. "It's not fair, Huckleberry! Riles' gets to brag she's from vikings. The Clutterbuckets are losers, all we have are bagpipes."

Lucas gave back her homework to her adding that she's lucky Mr. Matthews their history teacher with her study habits.

"Besides, you have lots to be proud of."

"Really! What?"

"You're the first goblin who can hold a paintbrush."

With a chuckle, Lucas slipped into a run leading Maya in a chase out the bakery. "It was worth it."

Their games only lasted so long and there was no way she'd have dinner with the Friars.

His father insisted Maya call him Colonel Friar, while Mrs. Friar always wanted Maya to remove her shoes before entering their home. She was no soldier or pushover. There was no reason for the formality. But Maya wasn't going home anytime soon and decided to stop by the Matthews as a quick stop.

Maya pulled her spare key out on the fire escape and crawled through the bay window. As always, Riley left her room organized, so much so the brunette had her curtains labeled. Once she found Riley's journal, Maya could glean ideas from girl's entries. She tried prying the journal open but found that Riley had placed a lock on it. Uncharacteristically, Maya searched her girlfriend's bookshelf looking for something that would help her on exam tomorrow.

Acting as a bookend was a strange book Maya hadn't noticed before. The binding was like wrinkled leather, its pages were dog-eared, unstitched, and musty. The titled script was scratched and faded. Maya thought it said Folk Witchcraft but it could've read French Witchcraft or even Witchcraft for Dummies. Whatever it said, Maya was proud Riley was embracing her dark side but a book was nothing unless Riley acted on it.

"Never thought this would be her kind of book."

Still, it didn't matter why Riley checked out the book, what mattered was that this spell book would cancel her test.

Maya ripped out the page, shoved the book on the shelf, and ran out the window. If she didn't borrow money from Farkle soon, she wouldn't have supplies for tonight.

Besides, this wasn't for herself. Lots of students don't study for exams and she was doing them a favor. From Charlie Gardener to Cornchip Dave, her peers would thank her giving an extra day — or a week — to study.

Maya blocked out the moon behind her curtains, next to her salt pentagram was a miniature vacuum in place. Magic spells are one thing, but her mom would throw a fit if she found salt in the carpet. Black and silver candles stood at each star point waiting to be lit.

She flicked the light switch off and listened for her mom's snoring to slow and stop. Grandma Hart was borderline comatose when she slept. With her apartment quiet, Maya knelt inside her pentagram and laid the book in front of her. Was it leather or human flesh really keeping it together?

Maya flinched when she pricked her finger with a pin drawing blood lines with the silver tip. This would totally ruin her nails. She pinched blood drops onto the inked lines. Several matchsticks struck then sizzled before she kept a flame. Devilish orange colors cast her face in a sinister light. She alternated between white and black when lighting the wicks.

Midnight drew closer.

Maya plucked her hair and placed a strand in her blood. She sucked in her breath and began to read:

"Heaven's devils turn out the light

Your angels to take flight

Your demons take control

Give me the demon's sun

Bring me her night"

The windows burst open! Her curtains fluttered, flapped, and snapped! It looked like the moon split and cracked down the middle, the city's lights flickered, broke, and seemed to fall.

A force shoved her back, she spat hair out of her face and wiped blood off her hands. Cackles rang in her ears, they were jagged, screeching nails in her mind.

It hurt.

The wax burned.

The candles fell. Flames licked her feet and spiraled around her limbs crawling up her body. Maya was colored charcol black, covered in burnt splotches and peeling scabs. Black fire burned and choked and gagged her throat.

Was she still in her room? Maya couldn't see through the smoke and flames. Was her family safe? Grandma Hart's legs couldn't carry her down the steps and Katy wasn't strong enough to help. Was Maya an orphan now, or would her mom be planning her funeral?

The pentagram sunk through the carpet. Something pumped her back up and pressed her against the ceiling. Another spirit forced her back down. Her skin no longer pealed. Flames didn't spiral around her arms and legs, nor did they pierce right through her taking the fastest route through her veins.

Why did someone slither themselves around Maya, their tongue, licked and flicked and hissed in her ear. This woman's curls were spirals and tickled Maya's face.

"You're not darkness. You won't even take the serpent."

Maya jumped. This woman was gone. Another one appeared.

This one slinked up against Maya. The blonde knew, felt, and was certain this second woman was beautiful. She was sleek, smart, and definitely made Maya weak.

"Remember, even good girls love to sin." She quickly followed the first woman's exit.

Maya flicked the light on. Her salt pentagram was gone and her candles had been stolen. There wasn't a mark from the women's touches. Even her mom and grandmother remained asleep. Had any of this happened?

Instinctively, Maya touched her ring. Riles! … Come back. Unfortunately, the night reminded Maya that she was alone.