 
# The Secret Life of a Witch

## (Mystic Willow Bay Mysteries Series, Book 1)

## Jessica Sorensen

# Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About the Author

Also by Jessica Sorensen
The Secret Life of a Witch

Jessica Sorensen

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2017 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.

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For information: jessicasorensen.com

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Cover by MaeIDesign

  Created with Vellum

# Chapter 1

A bowl of cereal is balanced on the steel table in front of me, along with a copy of _The Proper Way to do a Magic Lobotomy_ , my magic wand, and the _Mystic Willow Bay Daily_ newspaper. The top headline: " _Another body missing from the morgue! Cops say decaying spell went awry, but town members concerned we have a rapid vampire problem_!"

I have exactly fifty minutes to read through the newspaper and a chapter of my textbook, finish my breakfast, and get dressed for the one morning class I have today. Like usual, I'm running way behind schedule and should've probably skipped having breakfast in the basement with my older sister, but I'm the only person she has to talk to at the moment.

"Another dead body's gone missing," I mutter as I skim through the article. "I need to put some more charms up."

"Charms aren't going to stop anyone from stealing me," my sister says through a dreary sigh. "Or from a decaying spell."

"It'll keep you better hidden, though."

_No suspects have been arrested. No sign of suspicious foul play._ I roll my eyes. Only in Mystic Willow Bay would missing bodies be considered nothing to be alarmed about.

I wouldn't normally concern myself with bodies _poofing_ into thin air, but now that I have a dead body to worry about, I want to find the culprit. It won't be the first time I went out searching to solve a mystery.

Back in middle school, a lot of lockers were robbed, including mine. When I found out the person had not only stolen my new leather jacket and the Fog Inducing Ring from my grandma for my birthday, I went ballistic and set out on a mission to find the perpetrator. After spending over a week interrogating every single person I went to school with, I discovered that the lockers were robbed because of a hazing going on in the popular crowd. While I didn't out any of the participants, I accidentally left a trail of clues on my blog that the principal found, which led to some suspensions and a few expulsions.

Needless to say, my already sucky popularity status went down to an eating-by-the-dumpsters-at-lunchtime level. I thought my social life—and any hope of ever having friends—was over at that point. However, it turned out not to be as sucky of a year as I thought, because that was the year I met Hunter.

_Le sigh_. _Hunter. Hunter. Hunter._ The only guy who's ever unknowingly broke my heart over and over again.

"If you don't put the newspaper away, you're going to end up not having time to do your homework," my sister's tired voice yanks me out of memory lane.

"Yeah, you're probably right." I try to shove thoughts aside of body thieves, memories of living in Loserville, and hopeless, will-never-progress-to-anything-more-than-a-friendship crushes, and concentrate on reading through yesterday's assigned reading. But books about magical lobotomy aren't the most entertaining, and I quickly find myself looking more at the photos and less at the scientific words filling up the pages.

"Some of the photos in here are super disgusting." I crinkle my nose at a photo of a guy getting his head cut open. "I seriously think my professor might be twisted in the mind for making us look at these." I slant closer to get a better look at the picture while shoveling a spoonful of cereal into my mouth. Milk dribbles onto my sister's leg, and I quickly wipe it up, hoping she doesn't notice. "Ew, I can see his brain."

"I don't know what's worse," she murmurs. "The fact that you're eating while looking at that book, or that you're looking at that book while I'm stuck lying on this damn table."

I pat her cold, bluish foot. "Relax, big sis. I won't make you look at the photos."

"That's not why I'm worried." Her purplish-blue lips move like a marionette puppet. "I'm worried you'll turn me into your test dummy."

I recline in my chair with my fingers pressed to my mouth in mock offense. "I'd never do that to you." I lower my hand and turn the page, smiling to myself. "Not while you are still coherent, anyway."

"Wow, Evalee. I'm glad you find amusement in my pain." Her voice cracks, making me feel like the biggest asshole ever.

While she's been a bit temperamental lately, she does have a reason to be, considering her circumstances.

"Ry, I'm so sorry." I stand up and lean over the table to meet her gaze. "I was just trying to lighten the mood." I gesture around the damp, murky basement, lined with a few shelves, boxes, and a washer and dryer that look straight out of the eighties. "This place is so depressing. I hate that you're down here twenty-four seven."

"God, so do I." Her open eyes focus on the florescent light above the table, making her look like a possessed doll.

Even dead, she still resembles the gorgeous older sister I grew up idolizing. The only difference now is her long, blonde hair is lily white; her big, blue eyes are a tiny bit bloodshot; and her golden tanned skin is pale. Still, she could definitely pull off the whole hot zombie look. That is, if I can figure out how to complete the spell to bring her back to life. Until I do, she's stuck on this table every day of every hour, waiting for me to visit, since I'm the only person who was graced with the lovely gift of being able to talk to the dead. Insert sarcasm on the lovely part.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to be able to talk to my sister, even after she died, yet my gift definitely has down sides. Like every time I go to a funeral and have to pretend the deceased body in the coffin isn't begging me to save them from being buried alive.

I used to try to carry out their wishes, and even attempted to help my grandpa flee. Let's just say mourning families don't take too well to some stranger passing along a pleading, "save me" message from their dead loved ones. And my parents weren't very thrilled about me trying to drag my grandpa out of his coffin. Afterward, they took me to a bunch of specialists to try to find out what was wrong with me.

Each specialist had their own theories and treatments; some of which included cutting open my head. Fortunately, my parents weren't total nutjobs and told them no freaking way. I stopped seeing specialists after that and was allowed to live a normal life. Well, normal except for the rare occasion when I'm near a dead body. I also get the occasional warning to be on my best behavior whenever I attend a funeral.

"The lights are so dim down here," my sister gripes, yanking me out of my thoughts.

I rest my elbows beside her head. "I'm sorry. If I could keep you someplace else, I would. But this is the only place that's both safe and has the right temperature to..." I press my lips together, worried finishing that sentence will only upset her more.

"Keep my rotting stench under control." She heaves a heavy sigh, her bloodshot eyes drifting in my direction. "Look, I'm sorry I'm getting upset. I don't know why I'm being so moody. I was never this bitchy and whiney when I was alive."

"No, you weren't." I place my hand over her clammy one and offer a smile. "But that's okay. Death is a legit reason to be a little bitchy."

"Maybe. That doesn't mean I need to be bitchy to you. Not when you're trying to bring me back to life." Hope sparkles in her lifeless eyes.

I force a smile, but my stomach knots with nerves. While I have been trying to bring my sister back to life, I'm far from completing the spell. A spell that's extremely complicated for a powerful witch, let alone someone like me who's been cursed since birth with weak, uncontrollable powers.

Yep, on top of being the only witch and paranormal creature in all of Mystic Willow Bay—that I know of—who can chat it up with dead bodies, I'm also known as the town's magic klutz because of my sucky skills at casting spells, brewing potions, and dancing naked under the full moon.

Just kidding on the last part. I don't really dance under the full moon naked. Well, unless I've had a few too many drinks and decide to play a game of truth or dare.

"What's with the frown?" My sister's fingers twitch beneath mine, a sign she's probably trying to put her hand over mine to comfort me. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tries, she won't be able to move anything except her eyes and mouth, and only I can witness that. To everyone else, she looks exactly as she is—a dead body lying on a cold steel table with my half-eaten breakfast and a book about removing parts of the human brain.

"I was just thinking about some of the ingredients I need for the spell," I lie, turning back to my book to avoid eye contact. "There's some really weird stuff required."

"Like what?" she asks. When I don't respond, mostly because I don't want to worry her, she adds, "If you tell me, maybe I can help you."

She may be right. After all, my sister was what a lot of townspeople considered a witch genius.

"I need a bottle of moonlight, which I have no clue how to get since no supply store has it." I pace the table, counting down on my fingers. "A demon scale, which I have no clue how I'm going to get that one. A mermaid's scale, and every mermaid I've asked so far has told me no in a very not-so-nice way. Seriously, mermaids have dirty, potty, pee mouths."

She chuckles, life fleetingly sparkling in her eyes. "Dirty, potty, pee mouths? What are you, like, seven years old?"

"No, but it got you to laugh." Smiling, I stop beside her head. "I haven't heard you laugh since I brought you down here."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, I've been having a pity party. It's been a long three weeks."

"I've been told that while you're dead time moves a lot slower." I bite on my thumbnail, debating whether or not to ask the question that's been tickling at the tip of my tongue all morning. "I know you told me a few days ago that you haven't, but I wanted to check and see if, by chance, you remembered how you died... Mom called me this morning and told me that the police declared your death accidental—that you accidentally cast the spell on yourself."

Her gaze returns to the ceiling, the spark of life in her eyes extinguishing. "I'm sure if they declared it, then that's what happened. The police aren't morons."

"That's a matter of opinion." And not my opinion, or anyone else who pays attention to the abundance of accidental deaths that have happened in Mystic Willow Bay over the last seven to eight months.

Sure, we've always had a higher death rate than any human town, but that death rate has frequently spiked way, way up lately. And many of the deaths have been super strange, like my sister who was found petrified to death beside her car. There are only two known ways that a person can die of petrification. One being from a spell, and the other from ingesting bark from the ancient aurora tree growing in the center of Mystic Willow Bay Forest.

At first, the police thought perhaps someone snuck up on my sister and attacked her with the spell. After looking into the details of her death, though, they decided she unintentionally disarmed her wand and blasted herself with the spell. I'm not buying into that theory, and anyone who knew Ryleigh would agree with me.

"You're way too smart and talented to accidentally blast yourself with a spell," I tell her. "That sounds more like something I'd do."

Her gaze darts to me. "How many times have I told you to stop being so hard on yourself?"

"I'm not being hard on myself. I just know what I am and don't like pretending I'm anything different."

"You're not what you think you are. You just have a warped self-perception because of all those years of specialists and kids lying to you, telling you how weird you are. They don't get that you are just a little different, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Just a little different?" I question, motioning at the basement. "I'm standing in a basement, eating cereal and staring at photos of people with their heads cut open while talking to my dead sister's body. I am a total weirdo."

The edges of her lips droop. "No, you're not. And I know a ton of people who'd agree with me."

"You little liar." I flash her a teasing smile. "But that's okay. I love you for lying and trying to cheer me up."

"I'm not lying," she insists. "You're not a weirdo."

"Yes, I am. And I already accepted that a long time ago." I lean over, resting my arms on the edge of the table. "I am who I am, and that will never change. Honestly, I kind of don't want to. At least with some things."

"I don't want you to change. I just want you to realize how amazing you are." Her gaze strays toward her feet and the corners of her lips tug into a ghost smile. "And here's someone who will back me up."

I whirl around while reaching for my wand, worried one of my roommates got past my illusion spell and found the basement. But my fear goes _poof_ at the sight of the lean, tall, and ridiculously sexy wizard standing in front of me, who knows about my weird little gift and me digging up my sister's dead body from the grave.

I move my fingers away from my wand. "Oh, it's just you."

Hunter—aka one of my best friends in the entire world, who I'm secretly in love with—presses his hand to his chest, pretending to feign hurt. "Just me? You wound my heart deeply, Evalee."

"Easy, wannabe Shakespeare. I reached my cheesiness tolerance with you last night." I sneak a glance at my reflection on the steel table. My long, light brown hair is a tangled mess, bags reside under my iridescent eyes, and my skin looks paler than a ghost. I look like a hot mess.

He taps his finger to his lips, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Why? What happened last night?"

I turn my back to him, mostly to hide any hurt that might be rising in my expression. "Like you don't know."

He moves up behind me, his arm brushing against my hip as he rests his hand on the table beside me. "I said a lot of cheesy things last night, so please enlighten me on which one you're talking about."

"All of them." I make eye contact with my sister, and I swear the redness in her eyes has faded into a sea of pity. "You're seriously the biggest flirt I've ever met."

"Hey, I thought you liked that about me?" His tone carries a hint of playfulness. "If you want me to stop, you can always say so."

My sister gives me a pressing look, silently begging me to do it.

Ha, yeah right. The last thing my popular, adored by everyone, magically skilled, too gorgeous and charming for his own good friend wants to hear is that his spacey, uncoordinated, average looking, hangs out with dead bodies in the basement friend has secretly been in love with him since she was fourteen. Yep, I bet he'd be doing cartwheels and shaking pompoms right after he ran away screaming.

"If you want to flirt, then go ahead." My eyelids involuntarily shut as his breath dusts across my neck.

For a lunatic of a moment, I get lost in the scent of his cologne, the feel of his chest brushing against my back, and the daydreaming images of me backing him into the wall and crashing my lips against his. Then I open my eyes to see my dead sister watching me curiously, and reality douses over me, reminding me of who I am—a person Hunter sees as a friend.

Clearing my throat, I step forward to put some distance between us, and then turn around to face him. "Just don't come complaining to me about all the girls stalking you. It's your own damn fault for leading them on."

His lips part in shock. "How the hell do I lead them on?"

Jeez. Guys can be so dense sometimes.

"By flirting with them and telling them they're pretty."

He aims a finger at me, seeming a little irritated, which is strange for Hunter since he's usually all jokes and smiles. "Hey, I don't tell them they're pretty."

"You so do."

"Do not." His lips expand into a charming grin as he sweeps his chin length blond hair out of his eyes. "In fact, you're the only girl I've ever told is pretty."

I lightly pinch his chest, causing him to chuckle. "Don't try to charm your way out of this."

"I'm not trying to charm my way out of anything. I'm giving you a compliment," he insists, stealing a bit of my cereal. Then his face bunches in disgust. "That's super soggy."

I try to breeze over his compliment and not let my stomach turn into a bundle of crazy butterflies. As much as I'd love to get all girlie, girlie, _ah, that's so sweet, let me swoon now,_ I've known Hunter since middle school, and he's been a natural flirt pretty much since freshman year when he went from a gangly, bean pole to a lean, too-hot-for-his-own-good hottie.

_Don't blush or give away any sign of swooniness. Focus on the conversation, Evalee. Don't be a spaz and lose your best friend._

I take the spoon away from him and toss it back into the bowl. "Well, it has been sitting in the bowl for, like, an hour."

He spits the cereal out on the floor then wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. "What the hell, Evalee? That's disgusting. Why do you even have it down here?"

"What? You didn't have to eat it."

"Yeah, but you could've warned me not to when you saw me reaching for the spoon."

I bite back a grin. "I didn't really think about it. I mean, I took a bite, like, ten minutes ago, and it tasted okay. So maybe you're just super soggy-cereal sensitive."

"That's not even a real thing." He gives me a tolerant look. "And for future reference, if cereal has been sitting in a bowl for even half an hour, it's probably soggy, and you should warn your most awesome friend in the world not to eat it, or he might just lose some of his awesomeness."

"Why? Does soggy cereal have magical, awesome stealing powers?" I joke.

"Actually, smartass, it does." He smirks as he lightly tugs on a strand of my hair. "But you really shouldn't be ingesting milk that's been out of the fridge for that long."

My brows pull together. "I thought it took a lot longer for milk to spoil."

"I don't think so."

"Are you sure?"

My sister lets out an exhausted groan. "Oh, my God, I take it back. You are a little weirdo. And so is Hunter. Seriously, how can you two worry about the expiration of milk when you both just ate cereal that's two inches away from my rotting corpse leg?"

I turn around to shoot her a warning look. "Don't start on me about this again."

Her eyes glimmer mischievously. "Start on what? I didn't really say anything."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Yeah, but you were about to mention that _thing_ you're always bugging me about, which you're completely wrong about."

"I'm not completely wrong about it," she insists. "Hunter's in love with you, and you need to get your head out of Low Self-Esteem Land and realize this so you can make your move before someone else does."

I sneak a casual glance in Hunter's direction and cringe when I note him observing me intently. Yeah, I know he can't hear my sister, but that doesn't make me any less squirrely.

"Is Ryleigh talking to you?" he asks without removing his gaze from mine.

I nod, fidgeting with a leather band on my wrist. "Yeah, she's been pretty chatty this morning."

"I have, huh?" Ryleigh grumbles, going back into miserable mode again.

"That's a good sign, right? That she isn't going to fade anytime soon?" Hunter asks, moving up to the table to glance at the opened textbook.

I choke up at the reminder that, if I don't save her, eventually Ryleigh will rot into bones that I'll no longer be able to chat with.

Not wanting to worry either of them, I keep an upbeat tone as I lie, plastering a fake smile on my face. "Yeah, that's definitely a good sign."

Concern swirls in Hunter's eyes as he looks at me. When his lips start to part, I aim a pleading look at him.

_Please, please, please don't talk about this in front of Ryleigh,_ I silently beg.

"So, what class is this for?" He breezily changes the subject, glancing down at the textbook again.

I could hug him right now for being able to understand what I need without me actually having to verbalize it. "It's for Experimental Magic Insanity Therapy."

"You're taking that class? Since when?"

"Since I signed up for it at the beginning of fall semester."

"You never mentioned taking it."

"I didn't really think it was important." I reach for the book as he puts his hand down on mine.

"You told me every other class you were taking"—his intense gaze carries mine—"except this one. Why is that?"

"Must've slipped my mind," I reply with a shrug. Inside, my heart hammers deafeningly, though.

_Please don't figure out the real reason. That sometimes I secretly wonder if a experimental treatment could cure me from being the town's magic ditz._

"No, it didn't. And it's weird that you're taking this class when you hate everything that experimental treatment represents." Worry lines crease his forehead. "Eva, is this about—"

"It's not about anything. I was bored when I signed up for the class; that's all." I wiggle my hand out from under his then shut the book. "I have to get to class. I'm running late already." Swallowing the guilt crammed into my throat, I hug my books to my chest and hurry toward the crooked stairway that leads to the main floor of the house.

Truthfully, I know my fleeing escape won't do any good. Even before we started college a month ago and decided to rent a house together, Hunter never let me off the hook from much of anything. And now I don't even have the option of running away and hiding out at my own place.

He chases after me, his boots thudding against the floor. "Don't run off. We need to talk."

I quicken my pace, taking the stairs two by two. "There's nothing to talk about. I swear."

"Then why are you running away from me?"

"Because I don't want to be late for class."

"That's not the reason." He runs up the stairs behind me. "You're avoiding telling me why you took that class."

When I reach the top of the stairs, I stumble over the threshold and into the messy laundry room. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal about this. So I took a class about experimental magical treatments. It's not some life changing decision."

After tripping over three piles of dirty clothes, I make it to the hallway and scramble toward my bedroom. He jogs after me, and I take off into a run, swerving around the boxes littering the hallway.

"This isn't just some class you took because you were bored," he says from right behind me. "I know you, and well enough that I can figure out the real reason."

"There isn't a real reason. I'm not that mysterious. And you should know this by now—" I trip over a box and lose my balance. My wand and book fly from my arms. Sparks shoot from the end of my wand and blast the light green walls with spots of the most awful shade of brown.

_Crap. My roommates are going to be so pissed._

But I have bigger problems to deal with right now. Like not falling flat on my face and escaping.

I move to regain my balance, but Hunter trips into me from behind. We lose our footing and both go down hard. I land flat on my back, my head knocking against the hardwood floor.

Cursing, Hunter tumbles on top of me, managing to put his hands out and stopping himself from completely crushing me. Although, I must say, if I had to die, getting crushed by him would be a pretty decent way to go; with his hair tickling my forehead, buried in his scent, squashed beneath his solid chest.

_Mmmm... He smells so nice..._

With a hand positioned on each side of my head, he holds his weight up and stares down at me. "Are you okay?"

Those damn butterflies I just told to shut the hell up are no longer listening to me. Thankfully, I've spent many years learning how to sound cool as a freaking freeze spell during hot, fiery, skin damping, breath catching Hunter moments such as these.

"Am I okay?" I playfully pat him on his scruffy cheek. "Hunter, Hunter, Hunter, my dear sweet friend, with how many times you've seen me bust my ass, you should know better than to even ask that question."

He bites back his amusement. "And you should know better than to think I'll stop asking you if you're okay. Besides, this fall was kind of my fault."

I nod, secretly hoping he's forgotten about why he was chasing me. "Man, you're such a meanie, pushing down a girl like that."

His brow quirks. " _Push_?"

I nod, fighting back a grin. "And I always thought you were a gentleman, but I guess I was wrong. Makes me wonder what else I don't know about you."

An undecipherable look flashes across his expression. "Actually, there's a lot of stuff you don't know about me."

I can't tell if he's joking or not, but the idea doesn't sit well with me. I mean, we've been friends for almost eight years. That has to mean we know each other inside and out, right? Then again, he doesn't know I'm in love with him. That's one tiny, little thing, though.

No, he has to be teasing me.

"You're such a liar," I say with a grin. "I know everything about you."

"Everything, huh?" A challenge dances in his eyes. "You really think so?"

I feel like I'm walking into a trap, but I dive in, anyway, hoping to entirely distract him from the reason we fell to begin with. "Um, yeah. We've been friends forever; how can I not?"

His eyes twinkle wickedly. "Prove it, then. What color underwear am I wearing?"

My nose scrunches. "Ew, gross."

His eyes narrow, but it's a playful move. "You think my underwear is gross?"

I wrestle back the goofy, lustful smile wanting to possess my face. _No, Hunter, not at all. And I'd love to see you in it._

"I don't know. Depends on the last time you washed them."

He stares at me, unimpressed. "You think I don't wash my underwear?"

I shrug, the movement awkward while trapped beneath him. "I'm not sure. I don't have any brothers, but from what Peyton tells me, boys can do some pretty disgusting things when it comes to personal hygiene. At least her brothers do."

"That's because Peyton's brothers are vampires. And everyone knows vampires aren't known for being the cleanest creatures." As he adjusts his position, his hips lightly touch mine. A total accidental move, but the contact makes my skin glitter like pixie dust.

"And everyone knows that vampires can hear almost anything!" Peyton, one of our roommates, shouts from upstairs. "You know, for a wizard who's supposed to be the next Mystic Willow Bay Star Wizard, you really don't seem to know very much about your own townspeople."

I internally cringe at the mention of the title. Every decade or so, a powerful, charming wizard and witch get hand-selected by the Wizard and Witches Committee to become the Mystic Willow Bay Star Wizard and Wonder Witch, which is pretty much a fancy schmancy name for being a mascot for witches and wizards. Some people view the position as gaining celebrity status, and a lot of the townspeople nearly swoon themselves to death whenever they spot the current Star Wizard, aka Hunter's older brother.

Hunter despises the fact that his brother let the title go to his head, but what he loathes even more is knowing that this year he has a good chance of being selected as the new Star Wizard. At least, according to the rumors fluttering around town, he does.

Hunter's expression deflates. "I'm not going to be the next Star Wizard. Even if I am, I wouldn't call myself that."

"What are you going to call yourself, then? The Super Duper Star Wizard?" Peyton cackles with malicious laughter. "Face it, Hunter; you're just as egotistical as your brother. And when you officially get chosen as this town's next Most Vain Wizard in the World, you'll end up just like him—with a head too big to fit through a doorway."

Hunter's lips curl. "Don't be bitter just because my brother broke up with you."

"I'm not bitter!" she snaps over a loud bang. "I don't give a flying sprite's ass that your stupid, egotistical brother broke up with me. What I do care about is that he treats all of his old friends like shit now that he _thinks_ he's Mr. Wonderful."

Hunter's lips part, but before he can fire a comeback, I cover his mouth with my hand.

" _Let it go,_ " __ I mouth. " _Or she'll go on all day._ "

While Peyton's cool and everything, she never backs down from a fight. She can't help it, though. Stubbornness comes with the territory of being a vampire. Just like trickery is part of being a faerie. As is moodiness with wolves. And cockiness with witches and wizards. Occasionally, these traits do skip a generation, like with Opal, our other roommate who's a faerie.

I've known Opal since grade school and consider her one of my closest friends. She never pulls pranks on anyone, or tricks them with glamour.

"Got nothing to say?" Peyton singsongs. "Guess that means I'm right."

Hunter targets me with a dirty look. I keep my hand over his mouth, urging him to be quiet.

"Your silence means I win, Super Duper Star Wizard," Peyton continues. "And you lose."

Hunter's lips twitch against the palm of my hand. "Please let me put her in her place," he mumbles.

I shake my head and hold up a finger with my other hand. " _Wait for it,_ " __ I mouth.

One, two, three seconds tick by, and then...

"Whatever, Hunter. Just give up and ruin all my fun," Peyton huffs through the thudding of stomping footsteps.

A handful of seconds later, a door bangs shut and the house grows quiet.

I lower my hand from his lips. "She likes the thrill of a fight," I whisper. "Take that away, and she'll stop."

"Or we could just take her away to a faraway land and never have to deal with her ever again," he suggests quietly with a thoughtful grin.

"She's not bad all the time." I keep my voice low in case Peyton is still eavesdropping. "Just in the mornings and afternoons."

"And nights and every other hour of every other day." He sighs audibly when I give him a stern look. "Look, I know she's your friend, but I don't get why she had to move in with us."

"Because she needed a place to stay."

"Why, though? That part was never explained to me."

"Sorry, but I promised Peyton I wouldn't tell." I offer him an apologetic smile.

He grimaces. "Can't we at least search for another place for her? Four people in a two-bedroom house is too much. And I hate sleeping on the sofa." He juts out his lip. "It's lumpy."

"It's not lumpy. It's got character. And you used to say it was comfortable," I tell him, pushing his jutted lip back in. "I think you're just being pouty because you don't want Peyton living with us."

"Maybe. But I do miss having a bed to sleep in."

"You can always sleep in my bed if you want." The words leave my lips without any forethought, and I instantly want to retract them. Not because I dislike the idea of him sharing a bed with me—under the right circumstances, that'd be a dream come true—but I'm fairly sure I'd end up lying awake all night, haunted by sexual frustration. And what happens if my hands wander and do things while I am sleeping?

Before I can joke off the remark, his eyes light up.

"Seriously?" he asks. "Because that'd be awesome."

_Please, please, witches in the sky, kill me now._

I put on my best fake smile. "Yep, mi casa es su casa. Or, I guess, mi habitación es su habitación."

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles down at me, making those butterflies go all sorts of mad crazy. "You really are a great friend, Eva."

Aw, the friend zone, a place I begrudgingly am forced to call my home.

My smile remains shining on the outside, but on the inside, I'm a clusterfuck of frownie faces. "Yeah, yeah, we'll see if you're still saying that when I hog all the covers and take up three-quarters of the bed."

"That's perfectly okay with me," he assures. "And it beats waking up every morning to Opal's brownie licking my face."

A giggle slips past my lips. "I'm pretty sure Starry isn't going to stop doing that just because you're sleeping in my room."

"Yeah, it will," he insists. "Because I'll lock the door."

"It can pick locks."

"Since when?"

"For as long as I've known it."

My eyelashes threaten to flutter as he tucks another strand of hair behind my ear. _For the love of all things magical and sparkly, if he knew what his touches did to me, he'd probably never touch me again_.

"It usually doesn't do it too often because it's not easy, and the damn thing's lazier than a fat cat on Thanksgiving. But I'm thinking with you, it's going to put in an A amount of effort into getting inside the bedroom where you lay your pretty head to sleep." _Whoops! I so didn't mean for the pretty part to slip out._

His brows knit. "Why? I mean, I know my head is super _pretty_ and everything"—his lips quirk—"but I don't get why that'd be motivation for the brownie to pick a lock."

I smash my lips together, restraining a laugh. "You really don't know, huh?"

He shakes his head, his confusion doubling.

"Because it thinks you're sexy and wants your body." I shimmy my hips around, doing a little dance, which I'm sure looks ridiculous since I'm still pinned to the floor.

He blasts me with an unamused look. "It does not."

"Does, too. I even saw it checking out your butt the other day."

"You're such a little liar."

I shake my head, drawing an X over my heart. "I swear, I'm not lying."

Realization slowly kicks in. "So, what you're saying is, for the past month, a brownie—who I've probably changed in front of at least a half a dozen times—has been licking my face every morning because it—"

"Wants to get in your pants," I finish for him through a giggle.

His face scrunches up. "That's so gross."

"Why? I'm sure Starry's probably pretty popular amongst the other brownies. And you're popular with the wizards and witches. Together, you can be a total power couple." I choke on a laugh when he glares at me.

"I'm glad you find my discomfort amusing," he says flatly, but the sparkle in his eyes lets me know he isn't really mad.

"I'm sorry," I say through a laugh. "I'm not really laughing at you so much as with you."

"That saying only works when the other person is actually laughing."

"Oh, well, then..." I tickle his side.

He chokes on a laugh, his arms giving out on him. His body presses down on me, and I can feel every rock-hard inch of him. It's the perfect moment until my phone goes mad crazy inside the pocket of my pajama bottoms.

"Magic, answer phone," I say loudly over Hunter's laughing. When the phone doesn't answer itself, I clear my throat and try again. "Magic, answer phone."

Nothing.

I frown. Such a simple spell, and I can never get it to work.

"Guess I'm going to have to do it old-school," I announce with a sigh.

Hunter pushes up on his elbows, allowing me enough room to dig my phone out of my pocket. "Don't get discouraged. Some spells take time."

"I'm not getting discouraged," I lie, swiping my finger across the screen. _I just wish I didn't suck so much when it comes to magic._

Balancing his weight onto one arm, he hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. "I know when you're getting discouraged, so don't try to lie to me."

"Sorry," I grumble. "You're right; I am getting discouraged. But I don't want to be. I just get so sick of being the ditzy, powerless witch all the time."

"You're not powerless or ditzy," he says sternly. "And I don't want you ever saying that again."

I want to point out that almost the entire town disagrees with him, but I decide to stop wallowing in self-pity for the day. "Fine, I'll stop saying it."

"Good." He presses his lips lightly to my forehead, and my heart literally dies momentarily. "Now, I'm going to show you something that will help." Pushing back, he stands up and offers me his hand. I reach up, thread my fingers through his, and he lifts me to my feet.

"Aw, so you _can_ be a gentleman," I joke to lighten the sullen damper I put on the atmosphere. "Guess you sure showed me."

A small smile graces his lips. "That's not what I want to show you." He gestures for me to put my other hand in his.

Unsure what he's up to, but completely and utterly curious, I move to place my palm against his. Then I pause as my phone vibrates.

"Just a second." I start to glance down to read the message, but he steals the phone.

"I need you to not read that yet." He returns my phone then signals for me to place my hand in his.

"Is my weirdness rubbing off on you?" I ask, fighting the urge to read the message as my phone buzzes yet again. "Because you're acting strangely weird right now."

"If it was, it'd be a good thing." He wiggles his fingers, indicating for me to take his hand.

Sighing, I slip the phone into my pocket and line my palm with his. "Okay, so what're we doing exactly? Trying to channel spirit energy or something? Because, while I'm all for séances, I should probably get my ass ready for the class I'm already late for."

"Just chill, okay," he says. "I'll drive you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to."

"Aw..." I playfully pretend to be charmed. "And there's my gentleman friend again."

His eyes narrow into slits, but his lips threaten to turn upward. "He never left."

"Tell that to the bump on the back of my head," I tease, moving to touch my head, but he tightens his fingers around mine.

"Nope. I need you to hold still for this."

"Yes, boss, sir." I grin sweetly at him when he gives me an impatient look. "What? I thought you liked my sarcasm."

"Most days, yes. But right now, I need you to be serious, because we're about to do some serious things." His grin is all sorts of wicked and conspiring.

"Serious things?" I mockingly shiver. "Now you've got me terrified."

"There's no need to be scared," he assures, gently stroking the back of my hand. "I'd never let anything hurt you."

"Aw..." This time, my gushing is far less playful. "I know you wouldn't."

"Good." He smiles, but appears nervous, which makes me a mountain of jitters. "Okay, so first, I need you to assure me that you'll trust me and won't freak out."

"Um... I'm okay with the trusting part, but freaking out might be out of my control, depending on what you're about to do." I pause. "Although, if you told me what you're about to do, I might be able to keep my freak out level under control."

He swallows hard. "I want to try a connecting spell with you."

My jaw nearly ninja punches the floor.

"A connecting spell?" I ask, positive I didn't hear him correctly.

He bobs his head up and down. "To help you answer your phone."

"Oh." My brain stops functioning. Words don't exist at the moment. And not just because I'm having one of my spaz moments.

No, my stunned confusion is mainly coming from the fact that he wants to use a connecting spell with me. A spell that allows another wizard or witch to temporarily share their magic with another. A spell that is considered intimate by many and rarely used by anyone other than couples.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," Hunter says after a minute of silence ticks by. "I know it's not a spell that's generally used between friends, but I figured since we're such good friends... you'd be okay with it. And I think it might help you harness some control over your powers." He blows out a stressed breath. "You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything."

He starts to move his hands away from mine, but I clutch his fingers.

"No, it's okay." I sound embarrassingly breathless. "We can—"

A thick, rolled up piece of newspaper smacks me in the face. My hands leave Hunter's as I press my fingertips to my throbbing forehead.

"What the hell was that?"

"An emergency newspaper delivery," Hunter mutters. "Are you all right?"

_No_ , I want to say. _I'm not all right! I want to go back to a minute ago, put my hands in yours, and do the connecting spell. Only, instead of you saying we were doing it because "we're such good friends," you'd declare your undying love for me._

Instead, I manage a, "Yeah, I'm just peachy." Sucking in a subtle breath, I lower my hand from my head. "So, what's the emergency?"

Hunter already has the paper in his hand and is reading the front page. "Shit."

"What's wrong?" I ask. When he makes no move to show me, I lean over to sneak a peek.

He hurriedly puts the newspaper to his chest and swings around me, rushing toward the kitchen at the end of the hallway. "You know what? I think we should get you to school before you end up missing the entire class."

Worry clutches at my throat, and I dash after him. "Hunter, tell me what it says."

"I can't, Eva. Not right now, anyway."

"Why? Is it because...?" Fear pulsates through my veins. "Did something happen to my parents?"

He hastily shakes his head but won't look me in the eye. "No. It's not that bad."

I trip over the threshold as I follow him into the small kitchen area, the teal countertops littered with dirty dishes and empty food containers. "If it's not that bad, then just tell me."

"I can't." He rakes his free hand through his hair and casts a glance over his shoulder at me. Worry consumes his expression, causing my stomach to drop. He must see the fear in my eyes because he hastily adds, "Not until I look into it more and find out exactly what happened. Once I have, then I'll show you." He tucks the newspaper under his arm and begins opening cupboards. "Now, what are you craving this morning for breakfast? Popping cereal? Glittering eggs? Oh, if you want, I can make you some of my famous magic juiced donuts?"

"Thanks, but those make me really jittery. Too much magic, I think. And besides, I already ate. Remember the soggy cereal?"

He opens the cupboard above the stove. "Still, you should eat something better than that."

While his back is turned to me, I move up and tickle the crap out of him.

Letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal, he drops the paper as he stumbles forward. I feel a tad bit bad when he knocks his hip against the edge of the counter, but not enough to not read what's on the paper.

_"Another dead body stolen! Ryleigh Witcherford's, who reportedly died a couple of weeks ago, body has gone missing."_

"What the freakin' giggling sprites?" I gape at the headline staining the top of the paper. "How did this get reported... especially when my sister's body isn't...?" The paper falls from my hands as I realize that sometimes the news prints fast in Mystic Willow May and that the article might carry some truth.

I spin around and run for the basement door.

"Eva, wait!" Hunter calls out. "Let me go down there first, just in case something dangerous is still down there."

I keep running, not slowing down until I reach the bottom of the crooked stairway. I need to see for myself if the article holds any truth. Then I screech to an alarmed halt.

"No, no, no, no... This isn't right. I must be dreaming."

No matter how many times I deny what's right in front of me, the steel table where my sister lay only moments ago remains empty.

# Chapter 2

"Evalee!" Hunter shouts as he barrels down the stairs. "Why can't you ever just listen...?" The rest of the scolding dies on his tongue as he reaches the bottom of the stairway and spots me standing beside the empty table. "Fuck."

"Fuck is sure right," I mumble hollowly, too much in shock to cry. I know it will come later when I'm all alone and this catches up with me. I won't be able to turn the waterworks off then. "She's gone, and it's all my fault."

His gaze drifts between the table and me as he cautiously makes his way across the room. When he reaches my side, he slips his arm around me and pulls me closer. "It's not your fault. There's no way you could've known this was going to happen."

"Maybe not in a psychic way, but I've been reading the articles about the body stealer for weeks now." I swallow hard as I press my hand to the table. _So cold._ "And I read in the paper this morning that another one was stolen from the morgue. I should've put more charms up. I said I was going to, but I got distracted." _By stupid, silly crushes._ "Or, at least put better ones up to begin with. If I was a more powerful witch, I—"

"No," he cuts me off, placing a finger over my lips. "I'm not going to let you go there."

"How do you know where I was going?" My lips move against his finger.

"Because it's the same place you go every single time." He removes his finger. "Every time something goes wrong, you go straight to blaming your powers... even if what's happening has nothing to do with you."

I stare at the steel table where my sister lay only minutes ago. "This has to do with me. I chose to dig Ryleigh up after our parents buried her. And by doing that, I chose to be responsible for her safety."

He fixes a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. "You didn't know someone was going to go on a stealing bodies spree when you chose to dig her up."

"Even if I did, I still would've dug her up."

"Of course you would've; she was your older sister. And I'm sure, if most people had your gift, they'd have done the same." He traces his finger beneath my iridescent eye, another reminder of just how different I am.

"You're the only witch ever known to have that eye color," my sister told me once when I was younger and griping about how kids at school called me Freaky Rainbow Eyes. "That doesn't make you a freak. Those kids are just jealous."

At the time, I truly believed her words, but as I grew older and the teasing increased, it became harder and harder to convince myself that I wasn't a freak. Still, I loved my sister for always trying to convince me otherwise.

_She was the best biggest sister ever._

_Why are you referring to her in past tense, Eva! Don't give up that easily! Find her!_

"I need to find her," I announce as I step back from Hunter.

His hand falls to his side as he shakes his head. "No, what you need to do is talk to the police. They may know her body is missing, but they don't know where it went missing from. You need to tell them that you had her body, so they can start an accurate investigation."

I face the table with my hands on my hips, scanning the steel surface for any clues the thief might have left behind. "I can't tell the police I had Ryleigh's body—not when I illegally dug her up. It's bad enough that the stupid newspaper printed that her body was stolen. At least it didn't mention where it was stolen from." I walk to the head of the table and lean down to examine a strange, glittery smudge. "Besides, the cops think the bodies disappearances have to do with decaying spells gone awry. But since my sister's body disappeared within minutes, there's no way that can be the case since the spell takes a week to completely dissolve a body." I reach out to touch the sparkling splotch. "No, someone or something had to have broken in here and stolen her. And I have a feeling it might be a pixie—"

Hunter lunges forward and swats my hand away from the glitter. "Don't touch it."

My brows furrow. "Why not?"

He moves up to my side and crouches until he's eye level with the edge of the table. Then he closes one eye and squints at the space above the glitter. "Because that glitter isn't from a pixie."

"Then what is it from?"

"Remnants of a spell."

"What sort of spell? And from what kind of creature?"

"I have no idea." He straightens, his gaze landing on mine. The amount of fear pouring out of his eyes is startling. "But whatever it is, it's very, very powerful, which more than likely means—"

"It's something very, very dangerous," I finish, glancing back at the gleaming spot. "But, if I can figure out what left it, I might be able to find my sister."

Hunter promptly shakes his head. "There is no way in hell I'm going to let you go looking for some unknown, powerful monster."

I place a hand on my hip. "Let me? Since when are you my boss?"

He gives me a pressing look. "You're not thinking rationally right now, which means you need someone to make decisions for you."

"Hunter, I can't just let this thing take my sister, especially when I still have time to save her from being permanently dead." I walk to the back of the room before he can protest further, throw open the doors to the supply closet, and weave through the shelves lined with jars, pots, statues, and all sorts of other spell casting supplies.

Hunter follows at my heels. "What're you doing?"

I stop at the far back shelf, grab a small plastic container and scraper from the top shelf, then head back to the steel table. "Gathering the evidence so I can take it to a spells expert and get an idea of what took my sister. Then, after I do that, I'm going to go to the newspaper and find out how in the hell they found out about the body being stolen before I did. I know the news prints fast here, but that was super quick. Someone had to have tipped them off."

Hunter catches my arm, stopping me before I reach the table. "This isn't one of your mystery books, Eva." The anger in his eyes startles me. "Whatever's been doing this is powerful and dangerous, and you're..." He presses his lips together, stopping himself.

I already know what he was about to say.

"Look, I know I'm not very powerful or tough or smart, but I'm also not a coward." I wiggle my arm from his hold and turn toward the table with the scraper in my hand.

He moves up behind me, standing so close his chest presses against my back. "I know you aren't a coward. And you are smart and tough, whether you believe so or not." He pauses, slowly sucking in an inhale. "I'll let you go to the spells expert and talk to the newspaper, but only if I go with you. And you have to promise not to do anything else without consulting me first. Especially go looking for this thing."

"All right, I won't." I don't bother pointing out that I'm eighteen years old and don't need anyone's permission to do anything anymore—he would only find a way to prove me wrong.

"Okay, then." He releases another deafening breath before stepping up beside me. "Now give me the container and scraper so I can collect the sample."

I shake my head. "I can do it."

"No, you can't," he insists. When I open my mouth to protest, he stresses, "A high magical current is flowing off that glitter. If you so much as get a drop on you, you could die."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to be extra careful, then. Because I'm not about to let you take the risk for me."

He starts to roll up the sleeves of his grey thermal. "I'm going to put up a temporary magical potency shield, so I won't be taking any risks."

I want to say I'll just put the shield up on myself. That I can do this. That I'm not completely helpless. But the painful reality is that I am nowhere near as skilled or powerful enough to do that spell.

I'm torn on whether or not to let him do it. If he does, then there's a small chance something could go wrong and he could get hurt. If I don't, then my sister could be lost forever.

Before I can make the decision, Hunter snatches the container and scraper from my hand and gets to work.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask. "I could go find someone else to do it."

"Are you questioning my awesome powers?" he asks, amusement playing at the edges of his lips.

I shake my head. "No. But even the most powerful wizards and witches mess up big spells like this every once in a while. I don't want you getting hurt."

He pats my arm. "I'll be fine. I promise."

"Are you sure? Because I..." I trail off as he begins to chant the spell.

All I can do is hold my breath and hope that nothing goes wrong.

# Chapter 3

After Hunter chants the words to the shield spell three times, he retrieves his wand and taps it against the top of his wrist. Moments later, his hands illuminate with a silvery, glittery glow.

"You look like the Tin Man." My skin has dampened with sweat from my nerves. I wipe my sweaty palms off on the sides of my plaid pajama bottoms.

"Gee, thanks. What every guy wants to hear." He flashes me a smile from over his shoulder as he tucks his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. Then he begins running his hands up and down his lean arms to spread the spell across his body. "And if that's the case, then that would make you Dorothy."

"I could live with that. Dorothy is pretty awesome."

Pressing his lips together to stifle a laugh, he reaches out and gently tugs on a strand of my hair. "Actually, I take back the Dorothy comment. With this tangled mess, you're definitely the Lion."

I softly shove him. "Hey, that's not very nice."

He chuckles, his blue eyes casting a silvery glow from the spell. "Calling me the Tin Man wasn't very nice, either."

"Yeah, but the Lion is cowardly." I jut out my bottom lip. "You think I'm a coward."

He aims a finger at me while rubbing his other hand over his neck, causing the silver to spread to his face. "Don't try to play innocent here. Not when you just told me I look like a character who doesn't have a heart."

"I never said you _were_ the Tin Man. Just that you look like him." I cross my arms. "But you know what? After the whole cowardly lion remark, now I'm wondering if you don't have a heart."

"I never said you were a coward—you're definitely not. But your hair kind of looks like a jungle," he teases with a smirk before capturing my hand and flattening my palm against his chest. "And I definitely have a heart." His pulse beats steadily against my hand as his grin broadens. "See? Beating and everything."

I smile back, but the movement is aching. Why does he let me touch him like that? It's torturous.

"Yep, that's definitely a beating heart." I casually withdraw my hand and lower my arm to my side, feeling more flustered than I should.

My fingers tremble as I open and flex them while letting a slow breath slip from my lips. _Why does he have to affect me like this? Even in the midst of a crisis, my emotions are completely sync to him._

Hunter's gaze drops to my balled fist. "Are you okay?"

"Yep, siree," I lie breezily. "I'm just a little anxious about collecting the sample and getting to the expert. I'm hoping, if all goes well, I can track down Ry by tonight."

Pity fills Hunter's glowing silver eyes, but instead of crushing my hope, he turns toward the steel table with the scraper in his hand. "All right, let's get this done, then."

I hold my breath as he inches the scraper toward the glittery smudge, scrapes as much off the surfaces as he can, and transfers it into the container. By the time he's finished, not a drop of glitter is left on the steel. However, a clear, slightly yellow residue remains.

"It'll take some time for that to wear off," he says, pointing at the yellow residue. "Until then, you'll want to stay away from this table. Got it?"

I salute him. "Yes, boss."

He rolls his eyes as he screws the lid onto the container. "I'm serious, Eva. You can't touch that, okay?"

I nod, trying to put on my best serious face. "I know you're being serious. And I know this is a serious situation, but you know how I get sometimes when I'm nervous."

"Yeah, I know." He sets the container down, keeping ahold of the scraper as he walks to the trash bin that's beside the large brewing pot. "And while I love sarcastic jokester Eva, I worry she doesn't always fully see the consequences of making bad choices."

"I promise I do," I attempt to assure him. "Joking is just how I deal with nerve-racking shit." _That and getting flustered over touching you._

"I know. I just want to make sure that all jokes aside, you're careful. I couldn't handle it if you got hurt." He tosses the scraper into the trash then tears a few paper towels off a roll sitting on a shelf. "No one's going to come down here, right? I'd hate for Opal"—his lip twitches in annoyance—"or even Peyton, to come down here and get into this stuff before it's finished dissolving."

"I put some charms up, but maybe you should double-check them, considering I suck."

"You don't suck," he assures, but then tacts on, "I'll check on the charms, though, just to be sure."

"Thanks," I say, wishing I didn't need to ask him to double-check.

No, what I wish for is that I was a kick-ass witch with badass charm-setting skills. But hey, at least I can talk to the dead, so yeah, there's that. Right now, though, that little gift is utterly useless. That is, unless I end up interrogating bodies to find my sister.

The thought makes me laugh out loud, which causes Hunter to give me a curious look. I nervously smile back. _Yes, Hunter, your friend is mental and laughs at completely inappropriate times._

"What? You chose to be my friend," I remind him with a nonchalant shrug.

He crooks a brow as he draws out his wand. "Did I now?" When I scowl at him, he chuckles. "I'm just kidding." He faces the stairway, putting his back toward me, and runs his hand along the bottom step to check the potency of my charms. "And I'm glad I made that choice. My life would be way less interesting if I hadn't."

My shoulders slump, and my head bobbles back as I suffocate a frustrated groan. I make his life more interesting? That's it? Man, talk about the makings of a not-so-love story. I guess that doesn't matter. I've known since the beginning of high school, when I first developed a crush on Hunter, that he'd probably never reciprocate my feelings. That's why he can never, ever know that I go all lovey-dovey, cracked-out hummingbird wings heartbeats every time I'm around him. Otherwise, I might lose our friendship.

Collecting myself, I start for the stairs, but instantly backtrack when I catch sight of a shimmering piece of paper lying on the cement floor beneath the steel table.

Crouching down, I examine it without touching it to make sure it isn't anything harmful. From what I can tell, it appears to be a square, bedazzled business card. To be extra careful, I stretch my arm out and let my palm hover above the paper to check for a magical current. Only when I'm absolutely positive that the air around the card is magically charged free do I pluck up the card.

Straightening my legs, I stand back up and read over the swirly cursive on the front. " _The Illuminating Horror House of Truth. Come and see what you truly want, if you dare."_

"Huh?" Hunter asks as he twirls his magic wand in the air, preparing to reset my charms.

I hold up the card. "I found this under the table. It's a card for The Illuminating Horror House of Truth. Have you ever heard of it?"

He wavers, lowering his magic wand. "I have."

"Why do you seem so hesitant that you do?"

"Because it's not a place most people like to admit they've been to."

"Why? What is it?"

He plops down on the bottom step and tensely massages the back of his neck. "It's a place where you can go to see the truth."

"The truth about what?" I motion for him to embellish. "Come on, Hunter; you have to give me more deets than that. I'm thinking the person who stole Ry may have dropped the card."

"That might not be right."

"Then who else could've dropped it?"

Another maddening pause before he reluctantly says, "Ryleigh."

"No. There's no way this could've been hidden in her pocket since she died. She wasn't even buried in the same clothes as when the police"—I swallow the lump wedged in my throat—"found her body."

Hunter's hand falls from his neck to his lap. "I don't think it was in her pocket."

"Then where else would she keep...?" My lips form an O as realization smacks me in the forehead. "You think my sister had a secrets box hidden on her?" I'm not sure how I feel about the idea of my sister carrying around an invisible box that she crammed all her dirty secrets into. And the Ryleigh I knew didn't seem like the sort of person to have a lot of dirty secrets.

"She could have. I mean, I doubt your parents checked her for one after she... passed away. People rarely do."

"Yeah, because no one wants to find out all the dirty secrets their deceased loved one was hiding while they were alive." Sighing, I cross the room and take a seat beside him on the bottom step. "Maybe my sister did have a secrets box, but that doesn't explain why you'd automatically assume the card is hers."

Hunter scratches the corner of his eye, a nervous tick. "Because I know for a fact that she's been to that place."

I don't know why, but my stomach churns a bit. "How?"

He stares down at his hands as he flexes his fingers. "Because I've been there with her."

"Oh." I sink into some sort of strange, confused state of shock.

_Hunter and Ryleigh hung out together without me? Why didn't I know?_

_Wait a minute..._

My eyes widen. "Like, on a date?"

"What? No," he sputters. "We just went as friends, I swear to the witches in the sky. And it was only the one time."

I relax, but only a smidgeon. "Then, why didn't you guys tell me? I mean, I wouldn't have cared if you guys went out on a date." _Liar, liar, liar._ "The idea that you didn't tell me you went out on a—"

"It wasn't a date." He pauses, his eyes searching mine. "Really? You wouldn't have cared if I dated your sister?"

I shrug, pretending to be all chillax despite my internal meltdown. "It might have been a little weird to see you two together, but I wouldn't have been mad or anything."

He eyes me over, and I can see that he's totally not buying my bullshit.

"Well, whether you'd be mad or not, we weren't on a date." He pushes to his feet, stretching his arms above his head. "We went there as friends, and I know for a fact that Ry got a card. So did I. It said our names on the back and everything."

I flip the card over and... sure enough... " _Ryleigh._ " I glance up at Hunter. "You think she left this purposefully as a clue?"

"I'm guessing she did." He taps his magic wand against the railing and an array of dark blue sparks shower from the end. "Stuff doesn't just accidentally fall out of a secrets box."

"True." I look down at the card again, puzzlement tumbling through my mind.

While my sister and I weren't BFFs, I thought we were close enough that I'd know if she had a secrets box. At least close enough that I'd know if she was hanging out with the guy I am secretly in love with. Guess I was wrong, which makes me wonder what else she was hiding.

"You never said what this place is." I read the title on the front of the card again, " _The Illuminating Horror House of Truth_."

He frowns as he elevates his wand. "That's because I've been purposefully dodging around telling you."

"Well, at least you're honest." I pat his arm. "But time to fess up."

The corners of his lips sink. "Maybe it's better if you don't know."

"Why? I'm going to find out when I go there. At least if you tell me now, I can prepare myself."

He twists to face me with a stern expression. "I still don't think it's such a good idea."

"Hunter, if it's a clue Ry left behind, then I have to check out this place and find out why she wanted me to go there."

"Maybe the clue wasn't left behind for you."

A foul taste burns in my mouth, but I swallow it down. "Then it was left behind for you since you're the only other person who knew her body was down here."

"I doubt that." He grimaces. "Look, even if she did leave the card, hoping you'd find it and track that place down, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go. This place..." He crinkles his nose. "It's pretty hardcore and draws in a pretty rough crowd."

I fold my arms and raise my brows. "Well, it's a good thing I'm pretty hardcore, then."

He sighs. "Ev, you're my best friend, and I think you're great, but you are far from hardcore."

I don't know what pushes me over the edge. His, "I think you're great" remark, or him reminding me that I'm not badass.

"I may not have been badass in the past, but I think it might be time to change that." I put on my best interrogation face. "Now, come on; tell me what this place is."

A surrendering sigh escapes him. "Fine, I'll tell you. But please don't judge me... or your sister." He waits for me nod before continuing, "It's a place where all your wishes are brought to life."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It might not sound bad, but imagine seeing all your fears, worries, dreams, and desires brought to life in front of you for you to live out."

"Okay, I might see how some of that could be bad, especially the fear part." I pick at my fingernails, feeling lost. "Why would you guys choose to do that?"

"Because part of it is fun, like the dreams and desires..." Wariness briefly flickers across his face before he hastily clears his throat. "Anyway, the worries and fears part sucks ass. But it's a package deal. If you want to see your dreams and desires, you have to face your fears and worries first."

I trace my finger along the edge of the card. "And you guys wanted to do that?"

He shrugs, staring down at the ground. "I was curious about some stuff."

"And what about my sister? Was she curious also?"

He shrugs again. "I'm not really sure what she was searching for, or if she was searching for anything. From what I understand, she regularly hung out at the place." He tears his face off the floor and meets my gaze. "I was honestly kind of surprised she hung out there, considering the rough crowd it draws in."

"Just how rough, exactly?"

"Werewolves, vampire... demons."

" _Demons_?" My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. "Why would my sister hang out at a place like that?"

Sure, some werewolves and vampires are sketchy as fuck, but most aren't bad. Like Peyton, who can be a tad annoying but is decent at heart. But demons... Never have I heard of a good demon.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out," I answer my own question.

Hunter shakes his head. "No, I already said you shouldn't go—"

I place my finger over his lips. "This is my sister, Hunter. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to find her. So, either you're with me or you're not, but I am going."

His chest puffs out as he heaves a sigh. "Fine. I'll go with you. But only after we take the magic residue sample to the expert and talk to the newspaper. I want going to The Illuminating Horror House of Truth to be the last resort."

I nod, standing. "Deal."

I leave the conversation at that and head upstairs to change, a thousand unanswered questions haunting my mind. What was my sister doing at a place with demons? Better yet, what she was doing at a place that revealed what she kept hidden in her mind? What was she looking for? What was Hunter looking for?

Most of all, how did I not know about this part of their lives?

How much more do I not know?

# Chapter 4

I hurry up the stairs to my bedroom and peel my pajamas off. Then I throw on a pair of cut-off shorts and a black tank top, before tying a plaid jacket around my waist since the fall weather in Mystic Willow Bay can be sort of iffy. To top off the look, I trace my eyes with kohl liner, comb my hair, and slip on a pair of clunky velvet boots.

I don't bother glancing in the mirror before I head out of my room, but I do grab the emergency wad of cash I keep stashed in my sock drawer. I have an unsettling feeling that today is going to turn into an emergency cash sort of day. I've had these unsettling feelings previously, and usually I'm not wrong.

As I'm rushing down the cluttered hall toward the stairway, Opal bounces out of her room right in front of me. Thankfully, I manage to slam on the brakes before I topple into the diamond encrusted, paper thin wings spanning out of her back. Otherwise, I might have ended up taking a trip to faerie land (FYI, because fey wings carry the power of realm teleportation).

"Hey!" she chirps, her eyes bright and shiny, her wings flapping behind her. "I was just about to go look for you."

"Really?" I question. "With your wings out?"

A crease forms between her brows as she cranes her neck to look behind her. "Whoopsie. I thought I put those bad boys away." With a snap of her fingers, her wings fold and shrink until they vanish completely. "There you go." She dusts off her hands. "You're officially safe from any accidental teleportation."

"Thanks. Although, it is a shame you can't keep them out more. They're so pretty."

"And it feels great to stretch them out, too" She twists her wavy brown hair into a messy bun and secures it with an elastic. "But you know the rules. Faeries can only keep their wings out while they're around other fey or in the fey realm, which makes sense. I mean, can you imagine if we walked around all the time with them out?" She visibly shudders. "We'd have a real traffic problem going on in the path to the fey realm."

"Has any fey ever accidentally sent someone there?" My phone goes off in my pocket, and I realize I never did check the message from early. You know, back when Hunter wanted to get all intimate on me and tried to share his magic. Although, to him, he probably looked at his sharing time as a friend helping out a friend in need, because that's the kind of person he is. A guy who would do anything to help the people he cared about.

She nods, zipping up her hoodie. "It's happened a few times. And there has even been a couple of times when someone forced a fey to let them touch their wings so they could go to the fey realm."

"Why would anyone want to go there if they aren't fey?" I ask as I swipe my finger across the screen of my phone.

"To steal power," she says, causing me to glance up at her. "It grows all over the trees. And anyone who goes there can take it."

The craziest thought crosses my mind in that moment. _There's extra power in the fey realm that anyone can just take? If I took it, would I become more powerful?_

I quickly dropkick the ludicrous thought from my mind. _Seriously, Eva? You're getting so desperate now that you're thinking about stealing power from a different species?_

_Witches of all witches, what the hell is wrong with me?_

"That's crazy." I redirect my focus back to the phone. _Three missed messages_? "That power just grows on trees."

"Well, the fey realm is a magical, magical place," she singsongs through a laugh. "I wish you could see it."

"Me, too..." The words taper off from my lips as I read the missed messages. One is from my mom, reminding me to check on the house while they're on vacation, but the second sends a chill up my spine.

**Unknown: Time to play a little game with my favorite archenemy. It's called: payback is a witch in the ass.**

At first, I think the text is from whoever took my sister's body, but then I read the third message and become aware that I have other problems on top of finding the body snatcher.

**Unknown: Remember that day you told my longtime crush that I liked him and he never spoke to me again? And then I got teased so badly at school I had to be sent away to boarding school across Mystic Willow Lake? Well, I'm back now, and I'm seeking revenge. I'm going to be real nice about it, though, and give you a hint. An eye for an eye. Or, in our case, a lost crush for a lost crush.**

I press my fingers to the brim of my nose.

Great. Now, on top of finding my sister's body, I have to worry about a crazy witch hopped up on revenge.

# Chapter 5

Okay, so let me explain myself before you start thinking I'm a terrible person who outed another witch's crush.

Claire, aka my unknown texter, is a witch I befriended during my freshman year when we were partnered up for a project. We were both little weirdoes and instantly hit it off enough that we shared some of our most private secrets, like the wizards we had a crush on. The problem with our friendship was that we were both clumsy in the magical department, and during Practicing Wand Twirling for Amateurs class, she accidentally set off her wand and blasted me with a spilling secrets spell.

It wouldn't have been too terrible—at least for her—if the spell didn't reflect off my wand, causing a magical reflection, which basically means that, instead of me spilling my own secrets, I spilled hers. Then, it might not have been too bad if she hadn't had a crush on Troy, the most stuck-up, douchey wizard in school—aka Hunter's older brother—and who a lot of people thought was completely out of Claire's league.

Needless to say, after I spilled the beans, she became the laughing joke of the school and was constantly tormented. I tried to stick to her side and stand up for her, but she refused to have anything to do with me. Then, about two weeks after the incident, her parents decided to ship her off to boarding school where she could have a fresh start.

I always hoped that, if I ever saw her again, she'd finally forgive me. Apparently, quite the opposite has happened.

"What's wrong?" Opal asks worriedly. "You look like you're about to be sick."

I release an exasperated exhale as I stuff my phone into my back pocket. "Do you remember that thing that happened between Claire and me in high school?"

"You mean, when you told everyone in school that she was crushing on Troy," she says, nodding. "Of course I remember. I felt so sorry for her. Kids can be such asshats. So a girl has a crush on you? So what? It's no excuse to treat a person like crap and act like a total douchebag."

"Yeah, I know," I agree. "For the record, Troy was a douchebag way before that."

She flicks a piece of silver glitter over her shoulder, and for the craziest, stupidest moment, I question if Opal took my sister. Then I mentally kick myself in the ass.

_Seriously, Opal? She's like the nicest fey—no scratch that—person ever. What would she even want with a dead body?_

"You know, I've always wondered how someone as sweet as Hunter could be related to someone as stuck-up and kind of stupid as Troy," Opal states, slipping her hands into the front pockets of her hoodie.

I chuckle. "He definitely isn't the nicest and brightest bulb in town, is he?"

"Not at all." She gives me a knowing smile. "You definitely picked the better brother to get a crush—"

I clap my hands together, cutting her off as Hunter materializes at the top of the stairs.

He startles at the sound and presses his hand to his chest. "What the hell is up with the clapping? Wait. You're not thinking about going out for the Mystic Willow Bay Star Wizard Cheerleading team again, are you?"

I give him a quick once-over to assess what kind of mood he is in, attempting to see if Claire has divulged that I'm all goo-goo eyes for him or not.

His brows are knit, and his eyes spin with confusion, but I can't detect an ounce of horror or irritation, so that's a good sign, right?

"What do you mean _again_?" I play dumb. "I've never thought about being a cheerleader."

Hunter looks strangely annoyed. "You're such a little liar. I saw the brochure in your room."

Crap. I'm so busted.

"That was an old brochure." I nervously scratch the side of my neck. "From, like, five summers ago."

He cocks a brow. "Then why was it dated this year?"

"Umm..." I shrug. "Maybe that one belonged to Ry?"

"Ry wasn't a cheerleading sort of girl." He gives a long pause, his brows knitting. "Then again, I thought you weren't, either."

"I'm not."

"So, you weren't thinking about trying out, then?"

"No... Yes... I mean, no..." Motherload of all babbling witches, what is wrong with me today! I'm usually a pro at lying when I need to. Maybe the stress is messing with my head or something. "Okay, fine, you caught me. Earlier this year, I briefly—and I stress the briefly part—lost my damn mind and considered trying out for the cheerleading team. But after thinking about it for, like, a second, I realized how sucky it would be."

"Why?" Opal intervenes. "You're a really good dancer. I'm sure you'd..." She smashes her lips together as I sneak a please-be-quiet look. "Never mind."

Hunter stares at me like I'm some foreign creature who just sprouted a unicorn horn out of her butt. "Since when do you know how to dance? Last time I checked, you could barely do the chicken dance."

"She took a bunch of classes throughout high school," Opal announces then pulls a _whoops_ face as I glare at her. "Sorry, I forgot it was supposed to be a secret. Although, I still don't know why you don't want anyone knowing you're badass at shaking your ass."

Because I don't want to be a badass dancer. I want to be a badass witch like my parents, sister, and even my grandparents.

The only reason I even started taking dance classes was because my mom wanted me to have a hobby outside of magic. While she never flat out said it, I think she hoped that by pushing me away from magic, I'd find something I was actually good at. I guess she was right. I just wish that something else was much cooler.

"It's not a big deal." I act all casual and smooth. "And while I'd love to stay here and chat about this some more, I've got places to go and a mystery to solve."

"A mystery to solve?" Opal blinks at me. "Huh?"

"I'll explain later," I tell her, though I won't. How can I when she doesn't know I've been keeping my sister's dead body in the basement? I'm sure that conversation would go over fantastically. Can you imagine?

_Hey, Opal, remember the other day when you said you thought you smelled the stench of rotting eggs and dirty socks flowing through the vents. Well, that was my sister's rotting body that I've been hiding in the basement for a couple of weeks now. But you didn't know that because I charmed the basement so you can't ever find it._

Yep, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to hear that.

Throwing a wave over my shoulder, I start down the stairs and toward the front door. Hunter follows, keeping close to my heels.

"So, a cheerleader, huh?" he mutters. "Who would've thought?"

"It's not that big of a deal." When I'm at the front door, I reach for the doorknob but pause. "Although, I gotta say, your shock over the idea makes me feel super awesome about myself." I begin to pull the door open, but he holds it closed.

"I'm not shocked at the idea of you being a cheerleader so much as the idea of you wanting to be one." He studies me. "It's just something I can't picture you wanting to do. And the whole being able to dance thing... How did I not know about this?"

I shrug. "Probably the same way I didn't know you went to that illuminating/horror/desires place with my sister." When guilt consumes his eyes, I add, "I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty. I'm just pointing out that maybe we don't know each other as well as we thought."

"I don't think that's it at all. We know each other. We just have a few secrets, which I'm sure is normal for friends. And—at least for me—I have really good reasons when I decide not to tell you something."

I become greatly curious what his good reasons are. "I guess you might be right."

A grin spreads across his face. "Might be? Try always."

I roll my eyes. "Now you're starting to sound just like your brother." When his expression falls, I feel like a jerk. "I'm sorry. I was kidding. You know that, right? You are, in no magical way, shapeshifter, or form like your brother."

He nods, but his smile doesn't reappear as he moves away to let me open the door.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks as we step outside, underneath the cloudy sky.

The nervous edge in his tone makes me nervous, but still I nod. "Sure."

"It's about the cheerleading tryout thing," he says with reluctance as we start down the path toward his truck parked in the driveway. "And why you ever considered trying out. I know Opal said you are a good dancer, but was that the only reason?"

I wish I could truthfully say yes, but the truth is, I only ever considered putting on a skirt and shamefully shaking my ass after I found out he was in line to become the next Mystic Willow Bay Star Wizard. It was my way of staying close to him if—when—he got selected for the position. But after I picked up the brochure and saw what being a cheerleader for the Mystic Willow Bay Star Wizard entitled, not to mention the ridiculously frilly skirts they had to wear, I quickly shut down what might have been one of my stupidest plans ever.

Telling Hunter all of this isn't an option.

Unfortunately, conjuring up a good lie takes me way too long and Hunter catches on.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine." He looks disappointed as he opens the passenger door for me.

As I hoist myself into his lifted truck, I consider telling him the partial truth. I mean, would it sound so bad if I confessed I wanted to remain close to him after he becomes the next Mystic Willow Bay Star Wizard?

However, before I can get the words out, a shadowy figure wearing a cloak darts out from behind the house and runs across the front lawn, moving so swiftly I can't make out any features, other than red eyes.

Red eyes.

Demon.

A demon that was just hiding out behind my house.

Shit! Is that what took my sister's body?

Without even thinking, I dive out of the truck to chase it.

Hunter's arm comes down in front of me like a barricade. "Stay here."

"Why? What are you...?"

He takes off without warning. I reach out to stop him, but he moves too fast, sprinting across the street before I can even blink an eye.

"Hunter, wait!" I shout, but he's already rounding the corner where the demon disappeared.

Letting out a string of curses, I jog across the front lawn and haul ass after him. When I reach the corner, I slow down to draw out my wand.

"Energize," I whisper then breathe in relief when the tip of my wand sparks with pink magic. I kiss the shimmering pale purple base of the stick. "Thank you for listening to me for once. Now, if you could work perfectly if I have to cast a protection spell, that would be fabulous." Sucking in a deep breath, I steer around the corner.

My heart rate quickens as I note the bareness of the sidewalk. Not a single person in sight, not even in the yards of the two-story Victorian homes along the street. Then again, it is eleven o'clock in the morning, so most of the community is either at work or school. Still, the emptiness is unnerving. And where the hell did Hunter go?

"Hunter?" I whisper as I tiptoe up the sidewalk, moving my wand from side to side, preparing to throw a spell if needed. "Hunter, where the heck are you?"

When I stumble across Hunter's wand lying on the sidewalk, my worry soars all the way to the cloudy grey sky.

Never ever have I seen Hunter leave his wand unattended. Most witches and wizards don't, since it leaves their magic vulnerable to thievery.

Even worse, surrounding his wand is a trail of ash, remnants of curses thrown by a demon.

Images of Hunter cursed with two heads and frog eyes race through my mind, but I stifle the images and focus on the problem at hand.

My hands tremble as I scoop up his wand and tuck it into the pocket of the jacket tied around my waist. Then I follow the trail of ashes up the sidewalk and to the small, grassy park at the end of the subdivision.

My gaze skims the dry, fall-kissed trees, the swing set, slide, and merry-go-round before landing on two figures; one with blond hair and the other wearing a cloak. They're rolling around on a shallow hill near the back fence line, sparks of blue magic and ashes of curses flying through the air like a wildly crazy firework show.

"Shit." I take off in a mad sprint, my mind racing with what spell I could use to deflate the not-so-great situation.

I could try to throw the demon off Hunter, or blast him across the park. Better yet, I could freeze him. That way, we could tie him up and try to find out why he was creeping around our house in the middle of the afternoon, thirty minutes after my sister's body was stolen.

Yes, definitely the freeze spell.

I point my wand at the demon as I near him. "Ubi sunt—"

The demon turns and fires a series of curses at me before I can finish. I try to duck out of the way, but the funnel of ashes leaps through the air and slams straight into my chest. I fall to the ground on my back, my heart thrashing.

"Don't you dare—" Hunter starts to yell, but he's cut off by a soft _swoosh_.

The air grows quiet except for my gasping breaths. I try to move, but my body won't budge. I try to scream, and nothing.

_What in the wild, wild evil demons did he curse me with?_

"Don't worry; it'll wear off in a few minutes. Although, the delayed effects can be _petrifyingly_ intense." The demon's face appears above me, all gross and evil and snarly.

Okay, okay, that part might be a lie. Demons aren't necessarily ugly, and this one for sure isn't. But this would be easier to handle if he looked like an evil villain instead of a twenty-year-old, tall, lean, black-haired, decked out in facial piercings Gothic prince.

The only dead giveaway of his pure evil blood are his glowing red eyes. Yet, even those are lined with long, black eyelashes that most girls would envy.

His lips pull to a crooked smile as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking.

I mentally roll my eyes at myself. _Jeez, Eva, get your hormones in check._

"You're not the first, and definitely not the last to look at me like that." He swooshes the tail of his cloak aside and crouches down beside me. "However, you are the first of your kind. Though I haven't ever really met any of your kind."

He hasn't met a witch before? WTF? That doesn't make sense. Unless he's been living in a crypt or sewer or something, which perhaps he has—demons have strange living places.

He assesses my eyes. "You're a very interesting looking species. Strange, but beautiful in a weird way." When I glare at him, his red eyes glimmer with elation. "Yes, definitely weirdly beautiful."

Weirdly beautiful? Why is it always weird? And why does he keep acting like I'm some bizarre species when witches are super common in Mystic Willow Bay?

_Why do I even care! He's a freakin' demon, for crying out loud._

"It's okay to be flattered." His lips span into a sinister, yet somehow charming smile. "And as much as I'd love to stand around and flatter you more, I need to take off." He glances at his bare wrist, as if checking the time on an invisible watch. "I've got places to go and people to torment." He lowers his wrist and looks at me. "Just one more thing before I leave. And please keep in mind that I don't particularly like this part, but it is part of my job, so there's not much I can do. Unless I want to get fired."

With a flash of his eyes, his body begins to shapeshift, horns sprouting from his forehead and fangs poking out from his mouth. Red tinted scales sprout across his flesh and smoke puffs out of his nose as he rises to his feet.

"Now, I'm only going to say this warning once." Smoke leaves his blackened lips as he enunciates each word. "Stay away from The Illuminating Horror House of Truth. Nothing good can come from you going there. And if you do go there, you won't be leaving. Just like your sister." He winks. "If you get my meaning."

My lips curl and my fingers spasm, not just out of anger, but because my body is unfreezing. The demon notices, too, and steps back.

"Until we meet again." He throws me another wink as my body movements return to full form.

I spring to my feet then leap for him with my hand outstretched. "What do you know about my sister's—"

_Poof_.

He dissolves into a mist of smoke. And while I'm pissed off as hell, one good thing came out of it.

"I got a demon scale!" I cry, jumping up and down, holding the reddish scale up in the air.

"I'm glad you're so happy about that, but I'm completely confused as to why." Hunter grunts as he stumbles to his feet.

"Oh, my gosh, are you okay?" I ask, rushing toward him.

He nods as he staggers sideways. "Other than getting my ass kicked by a cocky-ass demon, I'm just lovely."

I hold his arm as he steadies his balance. "Did he hit you with a curse?"

"Yeah. I think it was a freezing one. He tried to hit me with a couple more, but ended up hitting my hair instead." He looks at me worriedly as he ruffles his singed hair into place. "How bad is it?"

"Um..." I press my lips together, debating whether or not to lie.

"Come on; just rip the Band-Aid off."

"Other than a few bald spots in the back, you look as sexy as always." _Whoopsie._ I so didn't mean for the sexy part to slip out.

"Sexy?" he questions. Then his eyes enlarge as he shoots his hand to his head. " _Bald_ spots?"

"It really doesn't look that terrible," I lie as he fusses with his hair. "There's just a few in the back." I put my hand to my mouth and cough out, "And, like, seven in front."

"Seven!" Fury flames in his eyes. "If I ever see that demon again, I'll kill him."

"No killing. But feel free to hit him with a molting spell." I retrieve his wand from my pocket. "You dropped this back on the sidewalk." I hand the wand to him. "Maybe you can do a spell to make your hair grow back."

"Thanks." Leaving one hand on his head, he takes the wand. "But I can't use my wand for probably at least twenty-four hours, if not longer."

"Why?"

"Because a demon's curse hit it."

"Oh. Well, that sucks."

"Yeah, it definitely does." He gives a contemplative pause. "Hey, maybe you could do the spell."

Thinking he's joking, I snort a laugh. But the hilarity dies when I note his serious expression.

"Did the demon hit you with a lose-your-mind curse?" I ask. "Because that's the only reason I can come up with as to why you'd ask me to use my magic on you."

"It's just a small spell," he insists. "And I'll help you."

"Or you could just wear a hat."

"The only hat I own is the standard wizard's hat, and I refuse to walk around town with that on my head."

I kick the tip of my boot against the grass. "Why? Troy used to do it all the time."

He gives me a stressing look. "Exactly."

I sigh. "Hunter, please don't make me do this."

He struggles not to sulk. "I won't ever make you do anything, but I really wish you'd try."

Guilt creeps up on me. I shift my weight uncomfortably as I rotate my wand around in my hand. "You really think I can do it?"

He nods. "I really think you can. It's a fairly easy spell, and like I said, I'll help you."

Swallowing hard, I nod. "All right, let's do it."

He grins from ear-to-ear, but the slightest bit of nervousness is evident in his eyes. "Okay, put the end of your wand to my head and repeat after me."

I do as he says, lightly touching the tip of my wand to the peak of his forehead.

With a deep breath, he utters the spell softly. I open my mouth to repeat the chant and try not to totally lose my cool as he covers his hand over mine and holds my wand with me. His eyes are trained on mine, which only takes my nerves up to an eleven hundred. Somehow, though, I manage to get the entire spell out coherently, and enchanting sparks twinkle from the end of my wand to spread across his head. Blond strands of hair begin to regrow until no bald spots remain on that pretty head of his.

I'm just about to smile when the end of my wand wheezes and the sparks sputter out into smoke, the spell gone awry.

I frown. "Aw, crap."

# Chapter 6

Ten minutes later, Hunter and I are parked in front of the _Mystic Willow Bay Daily_ newspaper. The silence that has stretched between us since we left the park is maddening, but I don't dare open my mouth. No, after what I did, I need to wait for him to speak first.

He silences the engine and slants forward to examine his reflection in the rearview mirror, something he hasn't done since we got in the truck. Then he runs his hand over the top of his head, flattening his hair down.

"Well, it could be worse," he finally says, turning toward me with the sweetest smile. "I could still be bald."

My shoulders hunch forward. "Don't try to coddle me. I screwed up big time and now you have short, black and blue hair. And for who knows how long."

"I'm not trying to coddle you," he insists, reaching across the seat to take my hand. "It really isn't that horrible."

"Really?" I question skeptically. "Even though there's no blond left or length?"

He gives a half-shrug. "I've been meaning to cut it, anyway. It was becoming too hard to maintain."

"Hunter, you've been obsessed with having your hair long ever since we were in middle school."

"Well, I'm not in middle school anymore, am I?" He rubs his hand over his cropped hair. "And this... This could be cool, right?"

I nod truthfully. "It looks very punk rock."

He smiles thoughtfully. "Huh. I never thought I could pull that kind of look off."

"Well, you definitely can." I pick at my chipped fingernail polish. "I'm sorry for screwing up... again."

"This isn't your fault." He gently squeezes my hand. "I'm the one who asked you to do the spell. If anything, it's my fault. I should've helped you more or just lived with the bald spots." He wavers his head from side to side. "Nah, I take that back. I'd way rather have blue hair than be bald."

I smile, but the move is excruciating. Why can't I, just once, be an awesomely skilled witch?

Suddenly, my thoughts backtrack to something strange.

I straighten in the seat. "Hey, off the subject, but did you hear anything the demon said to me?"

He shakes his head. "I lost my hearing when he blasted me with the curse. Why? Did he say something odd?"

I nod then give him a quick recap of what the demon said.

"He called you weirdly beautiful," Hunter mumbles after I finish.

I rest my elbow on the back of the seat. "Yeah, I wasn't too impressed, either. But I think that was probably the least important thing he said." When Hunter hesitates to agree, I ask, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." He tugs at the ends of his sleeves. "It just kind of seems like he was hitting on you."

I bark out in laughter. "Ha! Yeah, right!"

"Why is that so funny?"

"Because a demon—or anyone, for that matter—would never hit on me."

Now Hunter is the one to laugh. "You think no one's ever hit on you before?"

"Not think. Know."

"You're more oblivious than I thought, then."

"Hey." I reach out and lightly pinch his chest, eliciting a chuckle from him. "I may live in my own little world sometimes, but I'm not oblivious."

He rubs the spot where I pinched him. "If you say so."

"Hunter," I protest. "Stop saying that."

"Why?" he asks innocently. "It's the truth."

When I glare at him, he laughs.

"I don't know why you're getting upset about this," he says. "It should be a good thing."

I lift my brows. "That a demon hit on me?"

His amusement fizzles. "Not that part. I'm serious, if I ever see it again, I'm going to kill it."

"No killing, remember? Molting spells are okay. Killing... not so much," I remind him. "We're completely steering away from the point."

"Which is?"

"Well, for starters, I'm pretty sure the demon might not just know where my sister's body is, but he may even know some stuff about her death."

"Even if he did, we'd have to track him down in order to get answers."

I elevate my brows. "Or go to the place he warned us not to go."

He slips the keys out of the ignition. "No way. I mean, for all you know, he wanted you to go there and threatened you to put the idea in your head."

I unfasten my seatbelt. "You think he was trying to set me up?"

"I'm not sure. What I do know is demons can't be trusted." He climbs out, and I follow suit, meeting him in front of the truck.

"And what about him acting like he never saw a witch before?" I ask, drawing my sunglasses over my eyes as the sun peeks out from the clouds.

Hunter puts on a pair of shades, too. "Depending on what kind of demon he is, he might not have."

I untie my plaid jacket from my waist and slip it on. "You didn't recognize what kind he was?"

"No, which means he's probably something rare."

He starts across the parking lot, and I hurry after him until I am by his side. I wave at a couple of middle-aged pixie women as we pass by them. The tallest one has glittery skin that casts a shimmery glow in the sunlight. It reminds me of the magic sample Hunter and I collected. I pull my jacket tighter around me, aware that almost anyone could be a suspect.

"Will you relax?" Hunter hisses as we reach the glass doors of the station. "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry." The wind kicks up, blowing strands of hair into my face. "I don't even know why I'm nervous." Other than I have one of those unsettling feelings again; a silent warning that something bad is about to happen.

"Mr. Trickleten—the guy in charge of the paper—is a leprechaun, so you need to make sure you aren't nervous," Hunter says as he wraps his fingers around the door handle.

"I didn't realize he was a leprechaun." My nerves become even more frazzled.

Leprechauns are the worst. Tricky and mean, they twist everything you say until you confess all your secrets. Then they use them against you in the worst possible way. I guess it sort of makes sense that a leprechaun would be a reporter.

_Time to put your game face on, Eva._

I suck in an inhale and release it before squaring my shoulders. "All right, I'm officially chillaxed."

Hunter nods then pulls open the door and steps inside. I match his steps, keeping close as he gradually makes his way inside. Then he suddenly grinds to a halt and, not being quick enough, I end up slamming into his back.

"Sorry," I apologize as I put some space between us. "I didn't mean to..." My eyes widen as my gaze travels around the room in front of us.

Papers and boxes are strewn all over the tipped over desks and filing cabinets, the ceiling tiles are cracked and falling down, the lights flickering on and off, and a giant crack splits down the center of the room.

"It looks like a magical tornado blew through here," Hunter mumbles as he inches farther into the newsroom. Glass crunches beneath his sneakers and pieces of sheetrock fall from the walls. "What the hell do you think did this? And why?"

"I'm not sure about the why part, but I might know the what," I say, plucking a tinted scale from off the burnt carpet.

Hunter's fingers curl into fists at his sides as he sees what I am holding. "That damn demon did this?"

The scale is warm against my fingers. "That or something of his kind."

He scratches his head. "But why?"

"I'm not sure." I stuff the scale in my pocket beside the other one. _Always good to have a backup_. "But I don't think it's coincidental that he was here only moments before we showed up."

"How do you know it was only moments ago? For all we know, this could've happened earlier."

I point at traces of smoke lingering in the air. "The smoke would've cleared out by now. Plus, the scale's still warm."

"You're probably right." Hunter glances over at the desks as a soft buzzing fills the air. "What is that?"

"I'm not sure, but let's go find out." I start toward the desks, but he snags ahold of my arm.

"Let me go first," he says, dragging me behind him.

"You're being very chivalrous today," I nervously tease as we weave through the mess and toward the buzzing.

"I'm chivalrous every day," he throws back with a grin. "Just ask all of my many stalkers."

I roll my eyes and tell my aching heart to shut the eff up. "You're so cocky sometimes."

"It's all part of my charm." He winks, but his humor vanishes as we arrive at a buzzing printer, fully on and printing the next edition of the newspaper.

"How on earth is it still working?" I snatch up the front page—the only page. " _Attention Mystic Willow Bay citizens. Due to being overworked, I have decided to take a temporary vacation. At this time, I am unsure of my return date, but until then,_ Mystic Willow Bay Daily _will no longer print. Sorry for the upset this may cause, but perhaps you'll appreciate me more when I return. Sincerely, Mr. Trickleten._ " I glance up at Hunter. "You think this is legit?"

Hunter shrugs as his gaze skims the desks and the crack in the floor. "I have no idea, but we need to report it to the police."

"What about my sister?" I fold the paper and tuck it into my pocket. "We're running low on time."

"We'll stop at the police station on the way to the expert," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Considering how dismissive the police can be, I'm sure it won't take too long."

I start to nod when the printer spews out a buttload of papers into the air. I catch one and read the fresh ink staining the front.

" _P.S. For anyone who finds this mess, just leave it alone. I'll take care of the problem when I get back. In fact, I think I'll take care of it now_ —"

The room abruptly jerks to the right, and then to the left, causing the desks, papers, and filing cabinets to flip over and realign. The printer shuts down, and the paper in my hand dissolves into a pile of ashes.

"Well, so much for reporting the mess," I mutter as I watch the crack in the floor reseal.

Hunter massages his temples. "This is becoming a real headache."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling awful. "Maybe I should handle it on my own."

He stares at me blankly. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous. This is taking up a lot of time, crazy things are happening, and you have blue hair." I gesture at his head. "Things are getting out of hand."

He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. "I'm not going anywhere, so drop it."

I reluctantly nod, part of me relieved he's staying with me.

While I'd love to think I can handle anything on my own, the truth is, I can't.

My sister's missing body proves that.

# Chapter 7

"How did you find this expert, exactly?" Hunter asks as we round the side of a rusted warehouse located on the outskirts of town near the water tower.

The sky is still a cloudy grey, and the wind has chilled the temperature to a cool autumn.

"We used to hang out in grade school before he transferred schools." Gravel crunches beneath my shoes as I approach a crooked door at the back of the warehouse. "I haven't talked to him since then, but I heard he became an expert. I figured it might be better to use someone I know, you know, since I'm searching for a dead body I was technically not supposed to have. Confidentiality is important."

"I guess so." Hunter eyeballs the metal door with distrust. "Are you sure you can trust this guy? I mean, you haven't spoken to him since you were, like, what? Ten? That was over eight years ago. A lot can change in eight years."

"Some stuff can change, but I'm sure Evan is still the same sweet guy who shared his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches whenever my lunch got stolen."

"Your lunch got stolen more than once?"

I give a nonchalant shrug. "Kids weren't really fans of the girl who claimed she could talk to dead bodies. Although, for the record, I never did claim I could. This town just loves to gossip." I rap my knuckles on the door. "I don't know why you're so surprised by this info. You knew me in middle school and high school, which wasn't much better."

"No one stole your lunch in high school. If they did, I'd have kicked their ass."

"Yeah, I know. And I love you for that. That doesn't mean kids treated me any better. I was still the same freak who occasionally chatted it up with dead bodies and who has dorky rainbow eyes."

"Your eyes aren't dorky at all," he says matter-of-factly. "And the whole dead bodies thing isn't so bad."

I arch my brows at him. "So, you didn't freak out the first time you saw me do it?"

"I was a little startled," he admits, carrying my gaze. "But only because of a dead body being five feet away from me."

I can't help smiling a little. "Well, that's because you're awesome. Most people aren't."

"No, they're not." He stops talking when the door creaks open.

My jaw nearly knocks against the ground as a guy with short brown hair, a pierced lip, and dressed head to toe in black steps into the doorway. Leather bands cover his wrists, a chain hangs from his belt loop, and a leather collar ornaments his neck.

Two words pop into mind at the sight of him: bad boy. If it wasn't for his fiery orange eyes, I probably wouldn't have figured out who he is.

"Definitely not the gangly Evan I grew up with," I mutter in surprise.

Evan's gaze glides up and down me before residing on my eyes. Then his lips pull into a sexy half-grin. "Well, holy shit. Little dead body girl is all grown up."

"I don't go by that name anymore, thank you very much," I joke then move in to give him a hug. "How's life been? I heard you graduated with honors or something like that."

He waves my remark off as I step back. "That's completely untrue. In fact, everything you've heard is probably untrue."

I give him a skeptical look. "Either that, or you're just trying to be modest, like you used to be."

He leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Do I look like the same person I used to be?"

"No, but that doesn't mean you aren't." I gesture at his outfit. "This could all be a façade."

He rubs his jawline, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Interesting speculation." He chuckles, his eyes crinkling around the corners. "God, I've missed you."

"Me, too." I stick my fist out for a bump.

He shakes his head, but taps his knuckles against mine. Then his eyes wander to my right. "So, are you going to introduce me to your brooding friend or what?"

At first, I'm utterly perplexed about who he could possibly mean, but when I realize he means Hunter, I become even more lost. _Hunter brooding?_ That's a new one.

Sure enough, when I look over, Hunter is in complete brooding form: arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and lips set in a thin, annoyed line.

"Evan, this is my friend Hunter," I say while shooting Hunter a what's-up-with-all-the-glaring look. "And Hunter, this is my old friend Evan."

"It's nice to meet you," Hunter says, sounding quite the opposite.

"Likewise," Evan replies tightly then directs his focus back on me. "So, did you just stop by to say hi, or is there an ulterior motive for this blast from the past?"

"Well, I have been meaning to catch up with you," I answer truthfully. "But I do need your expert advice with a little problem I ran into."

His brows pucker. "And what exactly is this problem?"

"I recently lost something very important to me, and I need to get it back. The problem is, I have no idea who took it. It did leave a clue behind, and I'm wondering if you can help me figure out what kind of creature it belongs to." I stick out my hand, indicating for Hunter to give me the container with the sample in it.

Hunter grunts something incoherent and I mouth, " _What the hell, dude?_ "

Huffing, he shoves his hand into his jacket pocket, retrieves the container, and slaps it into my hand.

I shoot him a warning look before turning back to Evan, who looks extremely curious about what I have. "We found this on the table that the... item went missing from."

He takes the container from me and lifts it to eye level. Then his lips part in shock. "Holy shit."

I perk up a notch. "Does that _holy shit_ mean you know what it's from?"

His gaze flicks to mine. "Yeah, it's from a demon. A very powerful, very rare faerie hybrid demon."

"Faerie hybrid demon?" Hunter and I say simultaneously.

"I thought hybrids didn't exist," I add, jumping at the sound of booming thunder.

My gaze travels to the gloomy sky, splattered with hues of yellow, red, green, blue, and purple. Great. Not only is a storm brewing, but a rainbow storm. While that might sound pretty in theory, trust me when I say that being blinded by a thousand rainbows covering the sky for at least several hours is very exhausting. Plus, it brings out the dancing leprechauns.

Hunter tips his head back and frowns at the sky, probably experiencing the same thoughts as me.

Then my attention is swiftly yanked back to Evan as he gives the container a soft shake.

"Hybrids do exist," he says. "But they mostly live in underground tunnels, so not a whole bunch of people know about them."

"Underground tunnels?" I cast a quick glance at Hunter, who looks as befuddled as I feel. "Where are those, exactly?"

"I'm not sure." Evan takes one final look at the container before his gaze settles on me. "If you really want to know, I might know someone you can ask."

I nod eagerly. "If you could do that, that would be fantastic."

"Come on in, then." Evan backs away and signals for us to come inside.

I hesitate. "This person is inside?"

He nods, wariness flooding his expression. "He is."

Putting my guard up, I step inside the warehouse. Before I get very far, Evan's fingers fold around my wrist.

"I don't want to come off weird," he says quietly, "but did you, by chance, bring a large sum of cash with you?"

My fingers drift to my pocket as I remember the overwhelming feeling of needing to bring cash with me. "Actually, I did."

"Really?" He seems surprised.

"I had a hunch I'd need it," I explain, slipping my hand into my pocket.

He waits for me to embellish. When I don't, he turns and leads us into the warehouse. Hunter stays close behind me as we make our way down a narrow hallway lined with electric lanterns and framed skull paintings.

"Are you sure you can trust this guy?" Hunter whispers, his mouth so close that his lips kiss my earlobe.

I bite down on my bottom lip to suppress a moan threatening to escape. "Yes, I'm pretty sure."

"Pretty sure?" he questions. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

"Pretty sure, if close to one hundred percent sure."

My gaze wanders to the flickering chandeliers hanging from the low ceiling. Power shortage? It could be from the storm. However, there are a few other things that suck energy away from objects. One being a demon.

I screech to a halt as I reach the end of the hallway, warning flags popping up everywhere. And for a good reason.

Standing in the center of the rounded room is a guy with dark hair, piercings ornamenting his face, and glowing red eyes.

My heart hammers in my chest.

The demon from the park.

# Chapter 8

Hunter's fingers circle my upper arms as he prepares to yank me back behind him when Evan sticks out his hand.

"You don't need to freak out. I promise he can't hurt you." He approaches the demon with zero caution and lifts his hand as if to pat the demon. Instead, his hand knocks against an invisible force. The air ripples like water and the demon's eyes flame as he nips at the air. "It's locked in an invisible cage," Evan explains, dropping his hand to his side. "I assure you that it can't escape."

Hunter makes no move to release me from his death grip. "Sure, it is. That's why it attacked us in the park today."

Evan's forehead creases. "That impossible. I've been here all day, and I can assure you that the demon hasn't left the cage."

"He's not lying," I tell Hunter while eyeing the demon. "Either it escaped without you knowing, or there's a demon running around that looks exactly like this one."

The demon targets his gaze on me and lowers onto all fours, snarling.

Evan stays in Confusion Land for a handful of seconds before realization crosses his face. "Oh, he's mirroring. Interesting." He circles the cage, and the demon turns, his red eyes tracking Evan's every move. "I didn't know you could do that. Clever."

"What's mirroring?" I ask, stepping forward, but Hunter digs his fingers into my arm as he tows me back.

"No way. You're not going any closer until we figure out what's going on."

"Yes, boss," I mumble, obeying and staying put.

"It's when a demon can manipulate his appearance to look like the last demon someone saw." Evan stops circling the cage, keeping his gaze glued to the rabid demon. "To me, he looks like an ugly, little troll. To you, he looks like the last demon you laid eyes on."

Huh? So, he's not the demon in the park, but just making himself look like him.

"Well, he _definitely_ doesn't look like an ugly, little troll to me," I say automatically, picturing the sexy but extremely annoying demon that cursed me earlier.

Hunter coughs from behind me. "Get a grip over yourself. That guy in the park was a _demon_."

"I know that," I tell him, my cheeks warming. "That doesn't mean he was ugly."

Hunter sighs audibly while Evan appears confusedly amused.

"Anyway..." I clear my throat and change the subject. "Why do you even have a demon?"

"To study," Evan explains, fidgeting with the chain attached to his jeans. "It's actually not that uncommon for an expert to have a few species to study. I only have the one, though, since demons are a handful."

As if to prove his point, the demon charges at the invisible cage walls and the entire room ripples in protest.

"Whoa." I press my hand to my forehead as the red walls and the black and white tile floor spin around like a whirlwind. "Head rush."

Evan stares the demon down. "Behave, or no dinner."

The demon's lip twitches before he takes a seat on the floor.

"Good boy," Evan says almost tauntingly before facing the demon with his arms tucked behind his back. "Now, we need a bit of information from you. If you do that, then I'll throw in dessert tonight."

The demon's eyes illuminate brightly, which I assume is a good sign until he shakes his head.

"Pay the fee, or my lips are sealed." His baritone voice reverberates around the room as he crosses his arms and elevates his chin in defiance.

"I thought you might say that." Evan turns to me with an apologetic look. "Sorry, but this is where you're going to have to pay him. I mean, I can try to get him to talk without the cash, but I've had him for over a year and have yet to ever get any sort of truth out of him without anteing up first."

"It's okay." I fish the wad of cash out of my pocket then look at the demon. "But I'm not paying you in full until I get answers."

His eyes light up with dollar signs. Honestly, I find his reaction kind of stupid since he's locked in a cage and has no real purpose for money. Demons can be greedy like that.

The demon kneels up and sticks out his hand. "Half up front and half after I answer your questions."

I start to step forward to give him the money, figuring Hunter will release me, but instead he moves with me, refusing to let go. I internally sigh. While he's always been a bit protective of me, he's being crazy protective right now.

"Hunter, I'll be okay," I whisper over my shoulder. "You can let me go for a few minutes."

His hold only tightens. "No, I can't."

This time, I let my sigh escape. However, I let the subject drop as I approach the cage.

"Do I just hand it to him?" I ask Evan.

He walks a perfect line around the cage and steps up beside me. "Yes, but don't reach through the cage. Just throw the money in. You're safe out here, but if you breach the perimeter, he can harm you."

Nodding, I count out half the money then toss the bills into the cage. Grunting like an excited baboon, the demon scoops up the money and clutches it to his chest.

"Now, the first question I have is if you know anything about the bodies being stolen around town." Because after everything that's happened today, I have a hunch demons might be behind the stealing. Why, though, I don't have a damn clue.

The bills crinkle as the demon hugs them tightly against his chest. "They do."

I motion for him to explain further. "And, why are they?"

He shrugs. "I have no idea."

I wave the money in the air. "Tell me the truth, or I keep these bad boys."

If looks could kill, I'd be dead where I stand.

"They're trafficking them," he bites out, drool dripping down his chin as he snarls.

"Who's trafficking them?" I ask. "And why?"

Using one arm to hug the money, he lifts his free hand to his mouth and places a finger to his lips. "I'm not sure on the why part, but the who I might be able to answer." A grin twists at his lips as his greedy eyes zero in on the cash in my hand. "For a small fee, of course."

"Fine." I chuck a few more bills into the cage. "Now tell me who's behind the trafficking."

He scrambles to get the money, dropping some bills in the process. Growling, he does a belly flop and sprawls his body over the pile of cash. "The hybrids," he spits out as he reaches for a few dollars in front of his face.

"Faerie hybrids?" I ask.

He zealously nods as he snatches up the bills with his grubby fingers. "That and all the other kinds. So many kinds. Vampire kinds. Werewolf kinds. Pixie kinds. An army of kinds."

"An _army_?" Hunter and I say at the same time.

A sinister smile carves across the demon's face as he glances from Hunter to me. "Yes, an army."

I swallow hard. "An army for what?"

The demon pushes to his feet and stuffs the money into his pocket. "Who knows? But you should probably be worried, considering you might be one of them."

My muscles constrict as Hunter's fingers tense on my arm.

The demon grins, taking a step toward me. "You didn't know?"

My heart slams against my chest as I worry he might be right. Then I remember how powerless of a witch I am, definitely not half-demon material, and laughter sputters from my lips.

"Boy, oh boy, that was a good try," I tell the demon. "But next time you try to worry someone into thinking they're some special sort of creature, you should probably make sure the person is super talented and unique, instead of mediocre."

His lips curve downward. "You think I'm kidding?"

"No," I stress. "I _know_ you're kidding."

A low growl rumbles from his chest. "Stupid girl. But that's okay. One day, you'll realize it. Then you'll come crawling back to me."

I roll my eyes. "Nice try, tricky demon. If you want the rest of your money, you better start telling me the truth."

Now he rolls his eyes. "Fine, tell me what else you think you need to know."

"Well, for starters, I want to know who this sample of magic belongs to." I nod my head at the container Evan is still holding.

The demon's contorted grin sends a shiver down my spine. "You mean, you want to know who the hybrid is who stole your sister's body."

Evan nearly drops the container as he realizes what my lost "object" is. "That's what the demon took from you?"

"Sorry I wasn't straight forward," I tell him. "I just didn't want to seem like a total nutjob."

His expression softens. "I'd never think you were a nutjob, Eva. In fact, you're probably the most levelheaded person I know."

I offer him a smile. "Thanks for trying, but I know there's no way that can be true."

He reaches out to either pat my arm or take my hand, but when his gaze strays over my shoulder, he pulls back. "I'm telling the truth. You're one of the smartest, bravest girls I've ever known."

My lips part in protest, but the demon's creepy-ass cackling cuts me off.

"Oh, my God. Drama, drama, drama," he says then laughs, hunching over and cradling his sides.

"Yeah, keep laughing, you little twerp." I wave the money in the air. "Maybe I'll just hang on to these."

His laugh promptly dies. "You can't. We have a deal."

I fan the money in front of the wall. "Then tell me who the hybrid is who broke into my house and stole my sister's body, and how I can get her back."

"The last answer seems pretty self-explanatory. But since you're obviously stupid, I'll give you the answer," the demon says in a bored tone as he examines his chipped fingernails. "You go to the underground tunnels."

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 throat punches me.

My entire life may be a lie.

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

# About the Author

Jessica Sorensen is a _New York Times_ and _USA Today_ bestselling author who lives in the snowy mountains of Wyoming. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

# Also by Jessica Sorensen

**Mystic Willow Bay Mysteries Series:**

The Secret Life of a Witch

Broken Magic

Stolen Kisses

One Wild, Crazy Zombie Night

Magical Whispers & the Undead

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Capturing Magic:**

Chasing Wishes

Chasing Magic

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Chasing Hadley Harlyton:**

Chasing Hadley

Falling for Hadley

Holding onto Hadley

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Tangled Realms:**

Forever Violet

Forever Stardust

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Curse of the Vampire Queen:**

Tempting Raven

Enchanting Raven

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Unraveling You Series:**

Unraveling You

Raveling You

Awakening You

Inspiring You

Fated by Darkness

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Unexpected Series:**

The Complications of Getting Revenge

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Shadow Cove Series:**

What Lies in the Darkness

What Lies in the Dark

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Standalones:**

The Forgotten Girl

The Illusion of Annabella

Confessions of a Kleptomaniac

Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl

The Opposite of Ordinary

* * *

**Broken City Series:**

Nameless

Forsaken

Oblivion

Forbidden (coming soon)

* * *

**Guardian Academy Series:**

Entranced

Entangled

Enchanted

Entice (coming soon)

* * *

**Sunnyvale Series:**

The Year I Became Isabella Anders

The Year of Falling in Love

The Year of Second Chances

* * *

**The Coincidence Series:**

The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

The Redemption of Callie and Kayden

The Destiny of Violet and Luke

The Probability of Violet and Luke

The Certainty of Violet and Luke

The Resolution of Callie and Kayden

Seth & Greyson

* * *

**The Secret Series:**

The Prelude of Ella and Micha

The Secret of Ella and Micha

The Forever of Ella and Micha

The Temptation of Lila and Ethan

The Ever After of Ella and Micha

Lila and Ethan: Forever and Always

Ella and Micha: Infinitely and Always

* * *

**The Shattered Promises Series:**

Shattered Promises

Fractured Souls

Unbroken

Broken Visions

Scattered Ashes

* * *

**Breaking Nova Series:**

Breaking Nova

Saving Quinton

Delilah: The Making of Red

Nova and Quinton: No Regrets

Tristan: Finding Hope

Wreck Me

Ruin Me

* * *

**The Fallen Star Series:**

The Fallen Star

The Underworld

The Vision

The Promise

The Lost Soul

The Evanescence

* * *

**The Darkness Falls Series:**

Darkness Falls

Darkness Breaks

Darkness Fades

* * *

**The Death Collectors Series (NA and YA):**

Ember X and Ember

Cinder X and Cinder

Spark X and Spark

* * *

**Unbeautiful Series:**

Unbeautiful

Untamed
