To Prevent Chic Costumes

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To Prevent Chic Costumes Page 4

by Emily Martha Sorensen


  Her boss . . .

  Chronos pondered the idea for a moment. It was almost tempting, save for one thing: Kendra’s refusal to accept the answer of “no.”

  It’s not an empowering situation to be forced into a position of authority! Chronos thought indignantly.

  “I need you,” Kendra said again. “You’re the only person I can trust in the world. I need you to help me, and I might need you to stop me.”

  Chronos hunched her shoulders. She couldn’t believe she was being put in this position.

  “But I still don’t want . . .” she began.

  Scritch scratch crack BANG “OW!” a voice shouted from the distance.

  Chronos whirled around, looking around wildly for the source of the unknown voice. Was someone invisible in here with them?

  “Hey, minions! Do you have any band-aids?” the muffled voice shouted, coming from beneath them. “Oh, wait, never mind, duct tape will work!”

  Chronos was dumbfounded. Who in the world . . .?

  “Who said that?!” Kendra shouted, her voice sharp and angry. All traces of her former vulnerability were gone.

  “I diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!” the voice called from downstairs. The voice’s high pitch and singsong tone made it sound like it belonged to a little girl.

  A little girl, Chronos thought, baffled. Why would there be a little girl here? No villain would keep a little girl in their lair, unless . . .

  The realization came crashing down on her.

  Kendra flipped through the pages of the contract from the realtor, stopping to poke a tiny clause buried in the middle.

  “There.” She smirked and held it out for Chronos to see. “You really should have read that contract before you signed.”

  “The dungeons came with a prisoner?” Chronos shouted.

  “Hey, Baron Deathwave, is that you?” the little girl voice called cheerfully from downstairs. “I built that brainwasher you wanted!”

  A brainwasher. Chronos sat on the stairs and buried her face in her hands. That’s all we need: a device to turn magical girls or innocent bystanders into temporary minions. Why on Earth would a prisoner build one?

  “Good job finding such a great deal,” Kendra chortled. “You didn’t have to bargain — the realtor threw in a prisoner for free!”

  Chronos moaned and buried her face further in her hands.

  “C’mon, we’d better find out who our new teammate is,” Kendra said.

  Chronos’s hands flew off her face. “No!” she shouted. “I am not your teammate, and I am certainly not anyone else’s!”

  “That’s a little rude, given that you haven’t even met our new teammate yet,” Kendra said, smirking.

  Chronos glowered at her.

  “I assume there’s a key somewhere,” Kendra added, wandering over to the wooden door that the realtor had wrestled with and found impossible to open. “Unless, of course, the realtor was just pretending that it was stuck . . .”

  It’ll be stuck, Chronos thought. It’ll definitely be stuck. That’s the only reason why there would still be a prisoner here.

  After all, prisoners were a valuable resource. At the very least, the realtor would have collected a prisoner and auctioned them off to the highest bidder, to be used as a hostage or minion.

  It made no sense for there to be a prisoner here if the dungeons were still accessible.

  Kendra lifted the wooden latch, and the door slid open smoothly.

  “Yep, we’ve been had!” she called, dancing down the stairs. “This door works perfectly!”

  Chronos’s stomach sank. There was only one reason she could think of to leave a prisoner behind, and that was if the prisoner was dangerous. So dangerous than no villains wanted them.

  Who was in their dungeons, and what was waiting for them?

  Next Book:

  When Kendra defected to villainy, she left her friends and family baffled. Her best friend has no clue where the former magical girl is or what she's doing, but she's determined to find out.

  Even if it means attacking Kendra.

  Chronos has a brand new unwanted houseguest she can't get rid of. And this one has more than a few screws loose and is adorably evil. What do you do with a ten-year-old dark magical girl?

  You can get it here.

  Mildred doesn’t like black magic. But her mother was once valedictorian of Black Magic Academy, so her aunts insist she needs to follow in her footsteps and become one too.

  Mildred doesn’t want to be part of the popular crowd. Nor does she care about her “death-enemy.” And she certainly has no interest in murderous spells. But if the teachers catch on that she’s actually a good witch . . . well, they don’t react well to that kind of ignominy.

  What’s the only good witch in a school of wicked witches to do?

  You can get it here.

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