Samantha stood behind Sinclair watching her new husband face down Melisante. A timely yet short lived, rescue. Of all the bad luck. This day kept getting worse and worse.
A pissed off witch with a glowing amulet was definitely not good news. And Sinclair, that brave idiot, stood in front of her, protecting her with himself. Samantha had to do something. I am not ready to be a widow and I hate wearing black. But how could an ordinary librarian fight a sorceress? What do I have that Melisante doesn't?
How about common sense? Maybe she could do something like she had with the electrical ball. What should I do when an extremely furious, ex-lover, psycho witch throws some really, really bad magic at me? Samantha needed inspiration. She peered around the room, hoping for something she could use.
That old chair? Nope, too heavy to throw.
Some shoes? Too light.
A mirror, no time to check her looks.