Page 176 of Evil Hearts

Ugh. Too fucking early.

I used the bathroom and washed my hands. Glancing up at the mirror, I freeze when I notice it. A bright bruise forming on my left hip. Fingers splayed across my side as if the same woman grabbed me roughly while I was asleep. I search my body for other bruises.

Finding nothing, I shake my head in disbelief. The air drops another degree and I back away from the mirror and into the bedroom, where it instantly gains five degrees warmer. She’s close.

“What do you want from me?”

I can’t help but ask, knowing I shouldn’t be talking to the woman. That only makes her more present in this world. Seeking answers is a fool’s errand, and I’m definitely a fool.

A whisper greets me, but I can’t make out what the words say. They are so far away sounding that it’s all just mumbles. I strain to hear it again and still I can’t make it out.

“I can’t understand you.”

I throw my hands up and walk away from the bathroom in frustration. I don’t want to deal with this shit. Of fucking course I can’t have anything go the way it should in my life. This is just my fucking luck.

A shiver races up my spine like cold fingers tracing my bare skin. I whip around and search the area, only to come up empty. My nipples are pebbled with desire despite my anger rising steadily.

Why is she doing this? Is there something I’m missing? Heated touches of anger mixed with cold touches of passion. It’s such a different feeling when the entity does this. It’s like I can’t control my reactions to her. Like my body wants one thing and my mind is screaming, what the hell are you doing? No.

I spin around and grab my robe from the end of the bed and slip the fuzzy material around my body. The slide across my hip reminds me of the bruise there and I clench my thighs. Was she touching me while I slept? Was the ghost trying to fuck me?

I shake my head. There is no way that is happening. I’m fucking losing it. I really need to get laid. When was the last time I got some? I walk down the stairs, heading for the kitchen in search of the only thing that can wake me up properly. A large cup of coffee with a heavy helping of creamer.

Ah, shit. It’s been almost seven months since I’ve been on a date, let alone had any action. No wonder my body is reacting so easily to the touches. I need to get out of here and find someone.

The sooner, the better.

I flip the switch on the coffeemaker that I’d filled last night while waiting on the potions. I grab a coffee mug with a smiling witch on it that says ‘have a wicked day’ on it. A minute passes,and the carafe is high enough to fill my cup. I pour my cup expertly beneath the liquid falling, and slide the carafe back underneath to catch the remaining liquid without ever spilling a drop.

That first sip tastes like heaven. A sigh escapes my lips and I lean against the counter. Now to solve the problem with this entity and find me a woman to go on a date with. I can’t believe I’m getting turned on by ghostly hands across my skin.

I let my mind drift off as I finish my cup of coffee. The task list is just getting longer inside my brain as I prioritize the order of things. The first thing I need to do is register for my Witch’s License test. That is an important part of being here.

Then I need to see if anyone in town can help me with this ‘thing’ in the house. Hopefully, someone can help me with this entity because I don’t want to call the coven in order to deal with it. My mother will just have something shitty to say about me needing help.

She’s the High Priestess of her coven and the closest one to my location. It always defaults to them. I can’t handle my mother right now. Not after everything this past week.

We don’t have the best relationship with each other. It became so much worse after I failed the first test. I never was great at taking tests. So between anxiety and bad skills for testing, I flunked big time. It wasn’t my proudest moment, that’s for sure.

Then came the second test. My mother was sure I would redeem myself. Spoiler alert. I didn’t. I didn’t even try again after that. Couldn’t bring myself to fail yet again. Then a year ago my aunt convinced me to try again. I failed that one by one question. One.

That was the day I left town. I didn’t want to stay around and continue feeling like the family failure. My aunt did her very best trying to talk me out of it. I, of course, didn’t listen to her. I ran. Like a scared little rat.

Now I’m here and she isn’t. The thought saddens me, even though I know I can’t change anything. I pour a second cup of coffee and head upstairs to get ready.

The air shifts temperature, and I look up and down the hall. Searching for my tormentor. Finding nothing, I shrug my shoulders and enter the bedroom while sipping my steaming coffee. I’ve chosen to ignore it until something can be done about it.

I dig through my other suitcase I’ve yet to unpack and come up with a knee length dress that is black and purple and has a full skirt. One of my favorites. I’ll pair it with my ankle boots and my jewelry. Maybe even add my witch’s hat for once. I won’t get a second look in a town like this.

Light makeup will help and then I can head into town and finish getting some things I need for the house and run all of my errands. I have a great feeling about today. Maybe that will continue.

I open the car door and climb from behind the wheel. It’s a beautiful day out. The sun is shining and there is a slight wind blowing, allowing the chill air of fall to hit me in the face. Not sharp like a winter chill, but enough to induce a shiver.

I look down the main street of the town. Stores line either side of the road. I follow the sidewalk north and to the last building on the right. The local witch chapter headquarters. You can find one in every single town. Either a magic portal that takes you to another one, or the office itself.

This time, it’s an actual office located here that I walk into. A witch behind the front desk gives me a look of superiority. I keep my eyes from rolling and bite my tongue so I don’t comment on it.

“What may I do for you, Lila?” The older woman asks me with a fake sweet lilt to her voice.

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