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Mystic Willow Bay, Witches Series: The Secret Life of a Witch

Page 8

by Jessica Sorensen


  I take a subtle breath, trying to remain calm, but my patience is wearing thin. “And how exactly do I get there?”

  He looks up from his fingernails. “You really don’t know?” When I shake my head, he dramatically sighs and inches even closer to the barrier. “To the place on the card in your pocket. You know, the one your sister left behind for you.”

  My hand instinctively travels to my pocket. “The Illuminating Horror House of Truth?” I ask, and he nods. “How did you know about the card?”

  He taps his ear. “Curse of the demon hearing. I can hear everything that’s going on amongst my kind.”

  Hope glimmers in my chest. “So, you’ve heard things about my sister?”

  “Hearing things right now,” he clarifies with a smirk. “But to hear what she’s saying will cost you a lot more than what you have in your hand.”

  “You can hear her?” I whisper, my voice shaking.

  “Don’t trust everything he says,” Hunter warns, holding on to me securely. “Remember what he is.”

  The demon glowers at him. Then a devious grin illuminates his face as he focuses on me. “Or maybe you shouldn’t trust anyone. I mean, for all you know, any one of your little friends could have been the one to tell the hybrids where your sister was hidden.”

  I freeze. “What do you mean, tell?”

  His laughter is all mocking. “What? Did you think they just accidentally stumbled across her body?”

  “I don’t know …” Confusion clouds my mind, making me dizzy. “I hadn’t really thought about it. A ton of other bodies have been stolen.”

  “From the morgue, where bodies are supposed to be. Very rarely do people keep bodies in their basement.” The demon looks at me like I’m an idiot, and he might be right. “How do you think the newspaper found out about the theft only minutes afterward, other than maybe the little rat running around in your house momentarily getting a guilty conscience.” He hums a foreign tune under his breath. “Sucks to be Mr. Trickleten. He got into a lot of trouble for printing that piece.”

  I think about everything he said, and a cold chill slithers up my back.

  I don’t want to believe a demon, but at the same time, with all the charms me and Hunter put all over the basement, there’s no way anything or anyone should’ve been able to find my sister. Yet someone definitely went through a buttload of trouble to get past those charms to get to her. Why? Why go through all the trouble?

  “Why would they even want my sister’s body?” I ask quietly. “I mean, why go through all that trouble when the morgues and graveyards are filled with bodies?”

  He casually shrugs. “Maybe they weren’t really trying to get her body so much as get ahold of the person who cared about her body. I think it was only an added bonus that they got to add her to the collection of bodies they’re going to sell. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the whole point. Then again, it never is. Demons always have multiple purposes in everything they do.”

  I think about the demon in the park and how he warned me not to go near The Illuminating Horror House of Truth. But that wouldn’t make any sense. If hybrid demons were trying to get ahold of me, then why would he warn me to stay away from the entrance to the underground tunnel? Why not just take me then?

  “What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense,” I say. “If hybrids wanted me, then they could just take me.”

  “Could they?” His tone and look insinuates something, but I have no idea what.

  Before I can delve into the subject, he darts his hand out toward me. His knuckles crash into the invisible wall, sending a powerful wave of ripples throughout the room.

  The ground quivers as the walls and floor bow back and forth, causing me to lose my balance and stumble forward. Hunter starts to haul me back, but my shoulder connects with the cage wall.

  Cold fingers grab me, and I’m yanked forward. I try to throw my weight back, but the demon holds on tightly, dragging me all the way into the cage.

  Oh, witches. Oh, witches. Oh, witches!

  Panicking, I stab my fingers into his hand while kicking him in the shin. When he stumbles back, I move for my wand. But he lunges forward and snatches it out of my hand. Then he snaps my wand in half, laughing at me.

  “Not so cocky now, huh?”

  “Shit.” I spin around and run toward Hunter, but my body slams into the invisible wall and I bounce back, landing on my ass.

  Hunter’s face pales as he starts to run for me. But Evan grabs him by the arm and yanks him back.

  “You won’t be any help getting yourself stuck in there, too,” he tells Hunter firmly. “We need to coax him into letting her go.”

  Hunter shoves him off with a furious growl. “This is all your fault.”

  Evan gapes at him. “How do you figure?”

  “Because …” Hunter reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair, but the strands are too short now and he ends up clawing at his head. “You should’ve put up a better cage!”

  While the two of them continue to bicker like old ladies, I guardedly twist toward the demon. “What’re you going to do to me?”

  “Turn you over to the hybrids who are trying to get to you,” he answers simply. “They’re going to pay a lot for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re weirdly different.”

  The muscle in my jaw ticks. Weirdly. There’s that word again.

  He smirks. “You hate that word, don’t you?”

  I bite down on my tongue, refusing to talk to him.

  He shrugs, unbothered. “That’s okay. We’re going to be in here for a while, and you’ll eventually get bored enough to talk to me.”

  I elevate my chin. “No, I won’t. Hunter will get me out of here.”

  A dark laugh echoes from his lips. “Tell me, Evalee, who is the one person who knew where your sister’s body was kept?”

  “Evan didn’t do this,” I reply without missing a beat. “Besides, his magic doesn’t leave silvery residue.”

  His brow meticulously rises to his hairline. “So, he hasn’t been hanging out at The Illuminating Horror House of Truth?”

  “I …” My arms hang limply at my side as I realize that both my sister and Hunter have been to The Illuminating Horror House of Truth, and Hunter never told me why.

  “Trust no one,” the demon singsongs as he plops down on the floor.

  I try not to listen to him, but my gaze roams over my shoulder to where Hunter stands, watching me.

  “We’re going to get you out of there,” he promises, his intense gaze boring into mine.

  I nod, wanting to believe him, yet a speck of doubt weighs on the back of my mind.

  No, Evalee, don’t go there! You know Hunter better than anyone.

  Don’t you?

  I start to nod to answer my own thoughts when every single one of my muscles lock up, and I fall to the floor like a bag of bricks.

  The demon bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his side. “Oh, this is classic. Not only are you stuck in here with me, but it looks like you may have gotten hit with a petrifying curse.”

  Fear pulsates through me as the demon from the park’s words echo through my head. Although, the delayed effects can be petrifyingly intense.

  Petrified to death, just like my sister.

  The demon collects himself, resting back on his hands. “Don’t worry; a hybrid can’t die from a demon curse.”

  I want to argue with him that I can’t be a hybrid—that I’m too powerless to have demon blood inside me—but the longer I lie on the floor, motionless yet alive, the more I’m forced to face the truth.

  I could quite possibly have demon blood in me.

  No wonder I’m such a freak.

  If that’s true, if I am a hybrid, then my parents lied to me since neither of them are demons. Or maybe they lied to me and they aren’t even my parents! They’ve never seemed like liars, though. Yet, this does make me wonder.

  I swallow hard as the brutal truth throa
t punches me.

  My entire life may be a lie.

  And I’m even more different than I ever could have imagined.

  Broken Magic

  (Mystic Willow Bay Witches Series, #2)

  By Jessica Sorensen

  Broken Magic

  Jessica Sorensen

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Sorensen

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  For information: jessicasorensen.com

  Cover design by Mae I Design

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  I’ve had a ton of strange experiences in my time, but lying petrified on a floor beside a demon while trapped inside an invisible cage is a first for me. It wouldn’t be so terrible if I didn’t have so many unsettling things haunting my mind. Like the fact that I might be a hybrid, that hybrid demons want me for who knows why, and that Hunter, my best friend, might have betrayed me.

  No! I refuse to accept the latter.

  Maybe you think I’m living in denial, but you don’t know Hunter like I do.

  When I first met him in middle school, he befriended me, despite the rumors that I was part zombie—kids loved to play on the fact that I can talk to dead bodies from every tormenting angle. Granted, kids were teasing Hunter about being part skeleton—he was gangly back then—and he didn’t have too many choices in the friend’s department.

  He always stuck by my side, stood up for me, and vice versa. He never treated me any differently, even when we reached high school and Hunter turned into a total hottie that almost every girl swooned over. We hung out all the time, and he drove me to school and walked me to my locker. Girls hated me because of that, and my sucky social status bottomed out. Being with Hunter was totally worth it, though. Even if I had to suffer through his dating phase.

  Those were quite possibly the worst years of my life. Luckily, he was never in a super serious relationship, although he flirted—still does—all the time. Yet, he hasn’t had a girlfriend since about mid-senior year. At the same time, he’s never offered me the position.

  Perhaps he has been using you.

  For what?

  Shut up, inner voice!

  “Trying to figure out if your lover betrayed you, huh?” the demon’s annoying voice slices through my thoughts. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t say ‘lover’ since it seems to be one-sided.” He lies down on the floor beside me, props himself up on his elbow, and rests his chin on his hand. “You know, that’s one positive thing about being a demon—our ability to turn off our emotions. After you tap into your demon blood, you should give it a try.” He gives a chin nod in Hunter’s direction. “It might save you some serious heartbreak from Mr. Punk Rocker over there.”

  “That’s not how he normally looks.” The return of movement to my lips slightly alleviates my fear of being dead, something I feared since my sister died from a petrified curse. “He usually has blond hair. It’s just blue, black, and short right now because I messed up a spell … like always.”

  The demon’s red eyes sparkle with something unreadable. “Good, you’re coming out of the curse.”

  I attempt to wiggle my arms and legs, but remain a useless lump on the floor. “Why on this secret magical planet would you think that was a good thing? Aren’t demons supposed to want people to die?”

  Another sparkle in his eyes. “But you’re not people, are you? You’re one of us.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Live in denial all you want. It’ll only make the truth harder to bear.”

  “I have no clue what the truth is.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I already told you what it is. You just don’t want to accept it.”

  “And why the hell would I believe you, a demon?” I wet my chapped lips, my tongue’s little movement making me feel a bit better. “And an ugly demon, at that.”

  Okay, it was a cheap shot, but I’ve been lying on this floor for what feels like forever, listening to him babble on about me being a hybrid, Hunter lying to me, and strangely, where he can buy some good hair products.

  “Ugly, huh?” He crooks his pierced brow. “Then why could I read lust all over your face when you first saw me?”

  “This appearance isn’t even you.” I avoid answering the question. “The dark hair, the piercings, the red eyes, the toned body …” I trail off as a smirk rises on his face.

  “Lust is even dripping from your tone.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell the punk rocker guy over there.”

  “Like he would care,” I argue pointlessly, then shake my head at myself. “And again, none of this conversation even matters because you don’t even look like that. You’re just mirroring the last demon I saw earlier today at the park.”

  His smirk magnifies. “Which you found charmingly sexy.”

  I snort a laugh. “Ha, not even close. More like unpleasantly hideous. And he smelled revolting, too.” None of that is remotely true, but this demon has been driving me crazy for too long.

  The smirk on his face morphs into a snarl. “I don’t smell revolting.”

  I smile sweetly at him as I roll over to my side. Score! Movement in my upper body is back!

  “Yes, you do.” I take a whiff of the air. “Like dirty diapers and rotten olives.” Actually, he smells like cologne with woodsy undertones. It’s sort of nice. However, I’m going to keep that tidbit on the lowdown.

  His eyes flare as he pushes up onto his hands and knees before crawling over to me. “You better watch what you say to me. If I wanted to, I could kill you.”

  “But if you kill me, then you won’t get your fee for handing me over to those hybrids. That is … if your story is even true,” I taunt, and he responds with a hiss. I roll my eyes. “Will you freakin’ chill? Technically, I’m not even insulting you; just the demon who was at the park. If you don’t like what I’m saying, you could always change your appearance.”

  “And take away your reward of getting to look at me instead of the ugly, little troll?” He leans in, dipping his head toward my face.

  I try to angle my head in the opposite direction, but he pins me between his arms and hovers over me, his lips directly above mine.

  “Now, admit it; you love how I look and smell.”

  Golly, oh, witches; he’s becoming obsessed!

  “Again, I stress that you don’t look or smell like you, so why does it even matter?” I argue.

  “Because, I do look and smell like me!” he roars, then quickly throws on a neutral expression. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be special, you sure are an idiot. How you didn’t notice that another demon entered the cage about thirty minutes ago is beyond me.”

  I blink at him in confusion. “What?”

  Heaving an exhausted sigh, he sits up and grabs my arm to pull me into a sitting position. Then he reaches for my face, and when I slant away, he fires a deathly glare at me as his hands dart out lightning quick to cup my face.

  “Get your gross demon hands off me,” I gripe, sounding funny with my cheeks now squished.

  He pushes on my cheeks harder until I have fish lips. “That’s a great look for you,” he sneers. “Fish lips. Rainbow eyes. You’re like a rainbow fish.” He smiles cleverly. “That’s what I’m going to call you from now on. My little rainbow trout.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I warn. With
my lips smooshed, it comes out sounding like something else entirely.

  “I’m not sure what a ‘tote new pear’ is, but I do know that I’m going to call you my little rainbow trout for all of time and eternity.”

  “For all of time and eternity? You know the lifespan on a demon is only fifty years, which means your life is half-expired already.”

  His expression turns stone cold. “We only live that long because we’re hunted by malicious creatures who think they’re better than us.”

  I wiggle my nose, struggling to get my lips to a normal, less fish-like position. “No, they hunt you because you’re murderers.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says years and years of history in this town. I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys are the ones responsible for the high amount of deaths going on in Mystic Willow Bay lately.”

  With eyes like the devil himself, he inches his face closer to mine, his breath fiery hot against my cheeks. “Newsflash, my little rainbow trout, those murders weren’t caused by something this town considers evil, but by someone hiding behind their true colors.”

  Hunter’s face flashes through my mind, but I karate chop the image away.

  “Maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t make demons any more innocent,” I bite out. “I’m sure you’ve all done your fair share of killings. Plus, you’ve been stealing dead bodies—bodies that don’t belong to you.”

  “Don’t belong to me?” he questions. “Then who does a dead body belong to? You?”

  “What? No!” I give him an appalled look. “They belong to the people who mourn them.”

  “Actually, they don’t. Once someone dies, they cut all ties with the living … including their bodies.” He studies me with his head angled to the side and a ghost of a smirk on his face. “Except for you. In fact, bodies seem to be more in tune with you than the living and breathing.”

  I wish I could argue, prove him wrong, but the brutal truth of his words is too great.

 

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