Page 84 of Livewire Witch

As if to prove my point, a flash of lightning lights up the sky outside, followed by another booming crack of thunder.

Roscoe smiles again, coming closer to drop a kiss to the top of my head. “I don’t fancy your chances, sweetheart.” He sighs. “But if anyone can bring him back to himself, it’ll be you.”

Another crack of thunder whips through the air and the wind picks up, rattling the blinds in the bathroom next door.

There’s then a muffled shout, a thud, and some cursing from Z’s room, followed by a grunted moan and then silence. My eyes meet Roscoe’s as I shoot to my feet and we both dart toward Zeph’s room. I don’t bother to knock or hang around as I charge through the door.

The entire room is in disarray. A lamp is shattered on the floor and there are books scattered all over the place.

“Z? Are you okay? Have you hurt yourself?” I step gingerly inside, avoiding the broken glass.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Roscoe says. “I’ll get a brush to clean this up. Don’t go inside with your bare feet.”

Z glares up at us, clutching his leg. It’s the one that’s still recovering from the break not that long ago.

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to give your leg a break,” I tell him.

Z narrows his eyes at me, taking a deep breath and clearly trying to breathe through the pain. “Not now, Little Witch,” he rasps. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Ah, so we’re back to this shit, are we?” I glance at Roscoe, who is now picking up the pieces of the lamp.

“Can’t the two of you just fuck off and leave me alone? How do you not understand that I don’t want to see you right now? I want space. Even better if you’d get out of my private fucking space.”

Roscoe pauses in what he’s doing and glares at Zeph. “Dude, shut your mouth now or we’re going to have problems.”

“Fuck off. Both of you or I’m gonna say some shit that’ll hurt your feelings and I’m trying not to do that shit.”

Roscoe leaps to his feet, dumps the pieces of broken lamp in the trash and then wraps an arm firmly around me. “You’re being an asshole, man. You’d better not say any shit you can’t then unsay.” He leans close to my ear and mutters, “Want me to set Missy on him? See if a jaguar in his face makes him rethink some of his choices?”

I shake my head and give him a small smile that’s as big as I can manage at the moment. “I’d somehow forgotten about Missy.” I glance at Z who is now moodily scowling at the floor.

“I don’t need Missy, though, when I have Poncho.”

A little gift Roscoe didn’t know he was giving me all those months ago. I draw on my magic and summon the illusion of the jaguar I sponged off him months ago. Back when we were trying to get into the forbidden archives of the city library.

It’s the first time I’ve attempted this particular trick and thethingthat erupts out of thin air ismassive.

It’s also not a jaguar.

Instead, a giant, black... cat-like creature stands in the middle of the room with its blood-red eyes locked on Z. The thing is at least three times the size of Missy. It’s almost comically large, and it looks like it could bite your face off with barely any effort.

“What the fuck?” Zeph scrambles back, wincing as he puts weight on his injured leg.

“Ah, guess maybe Poncho might not be the right name for them.” I shrug. “Now, quit being an ass or I’ll sic him on you and let him eat your face off.” I glance over at Roscoe. “Would you mind please getting some ice for Zeph’s leg?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He grins and smacks a kiss on my lips before spinning around and heading for the kitchen.

“Are you seriously going to let this thing eat me?” Z’s voice is growlier than ever as Poncho straddles his chest, breathing directly in his face. “What happened to letting people keep their secrets? You just want me to flay myself open and tell you all my personal shit so you can feel better.”

I stare at him. “Sit on his lap, Poncho.” The monster cat nudges Zeph’s chest with his massive head, sending him careening back onto the side of the bed with a thud.

“I wantyouto feel better, you dick,” I tell Zeph. “I want to know what’s wrong and I want to do everything I can to fix it. But I know that’s probably not possible. So I want you to share whatever the fuck is going on in your head that’s got you so messed up.”

“How about I don’t want to air any of the shit going on in my head right now? I’m not burdening you with any of it.”

I match his antagonistic tone. “How about it’s clearly festering inside you, dummy? What’s the harm in talking about it with the people that care about you?”

He grunts and tries to shove Poncho off him, but fails miserably. “If I do, will you get this fucking thing off me? What even is it? It’s not a normal jaguar, it doesn’t look anything like Missy. And how the fuck is it so heavy?”

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