Page 62 of Bewicched

The corner of Dave’s mouth turned up. “Only half.”

“No one ever asks you about the other half, do they?” I wondered.

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “They do not.”

“I feel like they should,” I said.

“Probably,” he agreed.

Weird tension seemed to have formed between Clive and Declan while Dave and I spoke. I wanted to kick Declan because he was staring Clive in the eye. When Declan began to growl, a small smile formed on the vampire’s lips.

“No challenge intended,” Clive said. “I was merely studying your bone structure. You remind me of someone I love quite dearly. Could you tell me your last name?”

I could see Declan struggling. The question was politely asked. It would appear weak and churlish not to answer so basic an inquiry. It was almost imperceptible, but I saw it, the moment Declan owned his birthright.

“Quinn.”

“What?!” The shout came from the gallery right before the sound of running feet. The door flew open, and then Sam was standing in front of Declan.

“You’re a Quinn?” she asked.

He nodded, standing up to face her.

She held up a hand and five long, sharp claws slid out of her fingertips.

He watched, a smile hidden in his beard, and then held up his hand, claws sliding out.

“Is this some kind of fucked-up werewolf bonding moment we’re witnessing here?” Dave asked.

Sam bounced on the balls of her feet and then spun to see Clive, her eyes glassy with tears. “Coreys and a Quinn!”

“I know,” Clive said, the smile on his face so gentle, I never would have pegged him for a vampire if I hadn’t already known.

“I have family! That don’t want me dead!” She turned to Declan and me, her expression suddenly serious. “You don’t, do you?”

We both shook our heads.

“See? They don’t hate me,” she said, grinning ear to ear.

“Give ’em time,” Dave grumbled.

“You, shut it,” she said to the demon. “Oh, sorry! I left your mom in the other room. Be right back.” She ran off and returned soon after with my mom.

Sam said something to her, and my mom responded, “Not at all. I needed a few minutes to compose myself.”

“Why don’t we talk about why you asked me to come here,” Dave said.

I gave them a bullet-point version of the last few days, visions included.

When I finally finished, Dave nodded. “It’s not just about what the sorcerer does. Having a demon actively working with a sorcerer bleeds into the community. Dark shit starts popping up that isn’t even connected to the demon and sorcerer. The evil was always there, the sociopath walking a tightrope between socially acceptable behavior and serial aggression. The darkness the sorcerer and demon create can tip people, who have no direct connection to them, over the edge.

“It’s why you often hear about sick shit happening in clusters or multiple serial killers working in the same general area.”

My mother, who had been quiet since returning from the gallery, turned to Dave. “Do you really think you can get rid of that evil toad squatting inside my sister?”

“Well, I really do want that lemon bar recipe, so I suppose I’ll have to.”

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