Page 19 of The Secret Life of a Witch

Images of Hunter cursed with two heads and frog eyes race through my mind, but I stifle the images and focus on the problem at hand.

My hands tremble as I scoop up his wand and tuck it into the pocket of the jacket tied around my waist. Then I follow the trail of ashes up the sidewalk and to the small, grassy park at the end of the subdivision.

My gaze skims the dry, fall-kissed trees, the swing set, slide, and merry-go-round before landing on two figures; one with blond hair and the other wearing a cloak. They’re rolling around on a shallow hill near the back fence line, sparks of blue magic and ashes of curses flying through the air like a wildly crazy firework show.

“Shit.” I take off in a mad sprint, my mind racing with what spell I could use to deflate the not-so-great situation.

I could try to throw the demon off Hunter, or blast him across the park. Better yet, I could freeze him. That way, we could tie him up and try to find out why he was creeping around our house in the middle of the afternoon, thirty minutes after my sister’s body was stolen.

Yes, definitely the freeze spell.

I point my wand at the demon as I near him. “Ubi sunt?—”

The demon turns and fires a series of curses at me before I can finish. I try to duck out of the way, but the funnel of ashes leaps through the air and slams straight into my chest. I fall to the ground on my back, my heart thrashing.

“Don’t you dare—” Hunter starts to yell, but he’s cut off by a softswoosh.

The air grows quiet except for my gasping breaths. I try to move, but my body won’t budge. I try to scream, and nothing.

What in the wild, wild evil demons did he curse me with?

“Don’t worry; it’ll wear off in a few minutes. Although, the delayed effects can bepetrifyinglyintense.” The demon’s face appears above me, all gross and evil and snarly.

Okay, okay, that part might be a lie. Demons aren’t necessarily ugly, and this one for sure isn’t. But this would be easier to handle if he looked like an evil villain instead of a twenty-year-old, tall, lean, black-haired, decked out in facial piercings Gothic prince.

The only dead giveaway of his pure evil blood are his glowing red eyes. Yet, even those are lined with long, black eyelashes that most girls would envy.

His lips pull to a crooked smile as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

I mentally roll my eyes at myself.Jeez, Eva, get your hormones in check.

“You’re not the first, and definitely not the last to look at me like that.” He swooshes the tail of his cloak aside and crouches down beside me. “However, you are the first of your kind. Though I haven’t ever really met any of your kind.”

He hasn’t met a witch before? WTF? That doesn’t make sense. Unless he’s been living in a crypt or sewer or something, which perhaps he has—demons have strange living places.

He assesses my eyes. “You’re a very interesting looking species. Strange, but beautiful in a weird way.” When I glare at him, his red eyes glimmer with elation. “Yes, definitely weirdly beautiful.”

Weirdly beautiful? Why is it always weird? And why does he keep acting like I’m some bizarre species when witches are super common in Mystic Willow Bay?

Why do I even care! He’s a freakin’ demon, for crying out loud.

“It’s okay to be flattered.” His lips span into a sinister, yet somehow charming smile. “And as much as I’d love to stand around and flatter you more, I need to take off.” He glances at his bare wrist, as if checking the time on an invisible watch. “I’ve got places to go and people to torment.” He lowers his wrist and looks at me. “Just one more thing before I leave. And please keep in mind that I don’t particularly like this part, but it is part of my job, so there’s not much I can do. Unless I want to get fired.”

With a flash of his eyes, his body begins to shapeshift, horns sprouting from his forehead and fangs poking out from his mouth. Red tinted scales sprout across his flesh and smoke puffs out of his nose as he rises to his feet.

“Now, I’m only going to say this warning once.” Smoke leaves his blackened lips as he enunciates each word. “Stay away from The Illuminating Horror House of Truth. Nothing good can come from you going there. And if you do go there, you won’t be leaving. Just like your sister.” He winks. “If you get my meaning.”

My lips curl and my fingers spasm, not just out of anger, but because my body is unfreezing. The demon notices, too, and steps back.

“Until we meet again.” He throws me another wink as my body movements return to full form.

I spring to my feet then leap for him with my hand outstretched. “What do you know about my sister’s?—”

Poof.

He dissolves into a mist of smoke. And while I’m pissed off as hell, one good thing came out of it.

“I got a demon scale!” I cry, jumping up and down, holding the reddish scale up in the air.

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