Page 22 of Spit

My shadow sat in the corner, pleased with itself. Its belly erred on the side of full as it licked its fingers like the cat with the cream.

“What did you do?” My eyes narrowed as I sat up.

My shadow shrugged in a ‘who me?’ gesture, and I realized I would get no more information from him. Sighing, I slumped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

I had no clothes save for the ones on my back. No weapons, which meant I would have to rely on my shadow. I was in a new place where demons roamed the street like Macy’s day parade floats.

I liked to think I could handle anything, but I was unprepared.

People appeared to be getting up and ready for the day outside the room. The low hum of friendly voices and chatter filtered through the door.

I stayed in bed; my physical need for hunger was offset by my shadow, who had apparently eaten so much in the night that he could barely move.

Who or what had my shadow fed on? I prayed to Hecate that he had been picking up residual magic in the air and not actively seeking out targets. I might have control over my shadow when I was awake, but when I was tired and stressed, that leash could slip.

And it had definitely slipped.

I didn’t have to wait long before the first shout of alarm echoed through the walls, followed by a roar of unease and panic.

Yep.

My shadow had found the witches while I was asleep, and he’d had an all-you-can-eat buffet experience while my head was on the pillow.

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes.

I had already made a horrid first impression and hadn’t even left the room.

Just what I needed.

Well, might as well get the shit show on the road. I sat up, wearing yesterday’s clothes, and washed my face in the connecting bathroom. Noting that the shampoo and other toiletries were on the side.

I checked the wardrobe in the corner. It had some basic sweatpants and white t-shirts, but nothing special. Socks and underwear. I didn’t know if they were provided with the room or if my presence had booted someone from their space, and I was looking at their sparse belongings.

As much as it pained me, I needed to shower and had no desire to wear dirty clothes afterward. Adelaide would have had a heart attack if she had heard I even considered it.

There were roars of outrage and confusion as people ran from their rooms and gathered. The noise encouraged me to take my time facing the music.

When dressed and clean, I steeled myself before pulling open the door to my room and following the sounds of chaos to the central atrium with the brightly light glass dome.

When Mr. Legion had said he had a coven of witches, I had expected about six—the number needed to form a viable coven. Instead, I walked into a full-on meeting with a supreme at the podium, trying to calm her flock. There must have been thirty-odd witches in the room surrounding the fire pit. Usually, their magic would have been a knife in my stomach, testing my control as it turned and prodded. Instead, my shadow was blissfully silent, and my null abilities didn’t even prickle.

My shadow had drained every single witch.

No wonder they were pissed.

The chatter died as the crowd turned as one to face me in the doorway. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

I didn’t play well with other witches. They disliked my presence for various reasons—mainly because I refused to apologize simply for existing.

The woman at the podium, who I assumed was the supreme, stepped down. She held her head high, innately regal, looking down her nose at the world. Her hair was a beautiful strawberry blonde that was either blessed genetics or a salon so expensive than I could ever afford.

I should have been able to tell her standing from the taste of her magic, but every woman in the room was inert. A void due to my shadow and its midnight activities.

I had no idea what I was walking into, so I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for the strawberry shortcake to come to me.

“I don’t know you.” Shortcake said, her voice cheery though her eyes were narrowed.

My smile was tight and close-lipped. “I don’t know you either.”

---