Chapter Six

M y legs felt like they were encrusted in ice as I trudged back across the gravel drive and into Ric’s home. I had no way to get home, which meant I’d have to take an Uber. Either that or hop on my compact broom and use a concealment spell to fly home. Another shiver coursed up my spine, reminding me I’d freeze my tits off if I tried it.

My mind felt numb as I followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee into the kitchen. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my clothes, as well as a thick blanket, laid out on the dining table. I quickly changed, then thanked the ghosts as they poured me a cup of coffee, adding sugar and cream. I thought about asking them for that omelet, but I was far too sick with worry to eat, so I slowly sipped the coffee, letting the heat sink into my bones while I pondered my current situation.

Gus was shutting down my bakery, Ric could be hung for murder, and whoever killed Lenny, probably a succubus, was still out there. Who would be next? Ethyl? Me? Des? My heart came to a grinding halt, and I suddenly realized why my parents had tried to stop the succubus. They gave their lives to save mine, just as I would do the same for Des. Though my parents were strong, alpha witches, their magic wasn’t as powerful as mine. I wondered if the succubus knew this, and that’s why she’d been hunting me. Or maybe she knew about Des’s magic.

I’d been so careful concealing Des’s magic, choosing to homeschool, masking his aura, not telling anyone except Ethyl. Not even Colin knew how powerful his son’s magic was. Thank the Goddess he was such a negligent father, focusing more on himself than on his son, for I didn’t trust him with Des’s secret.

I chewed my nails to the quick, wondering what I should do next. I couldn’t let Ric hang for murders he didn’t commit. Though I wasn’t with him during that other murder, I suspected he’d been framed then, too.

I jumped when an object dropped from the sky in front of me. So consumed was I with worry that I hadn’t noticed the ghosts had been trying to get my attention.

I looked down in shock at the Ouija board and realized the ghosts were trying to communicate with me. They were obviously friends with Ric if they lived here. Perhaps they could offer some insight. I took the board out of the box and unfolded it on the table. Then I grabbed the planchette, the heart-shaped wooden dial, and placed it on the center of the board.

I drank down the rest of my now cold coffee, then swallowed back a knot of apprehension as I asked the first question. “Do you know where they are taking him?”

I didn’t even need to place my hands on the planchette as it moved of its own accord.

No.

I smoothed trembling hands down my pants. Have I mentioned ghosts creeped me out? Probably not a good time to remember that. “Do you know who killed Lenny?”

Yes.

Merlin’s balls! I fought the urge to vomit my coffee back up as I asked the next question. “Who?”

Succubus.

Icy sludge hardened my veins and a fog of fear settled in my skull. I suspected that’s what the ghosts were going to say, but them confirming it made it all the more real, all the more terrifying.

The moisture evaporated from my mouth, making it hard to push out the next question. “Did the succubus frame Ric?”

Yes.

“Why?”

In the way.

No, no, no. I didn’t want to ask the next question, but I had to verify what I feared to be true. “Of what?”

You.

“Oh, Goddess.” I dug my fingers into the table with whitened knuckles. “I need to free Ric. But how?”

I looked up at what sounded like ruffling feathers above me. An envelope fluttered down and landed on the table. I opened it up and found a pay stub with Lenny’s name and address. Then I gave a start at a rattling sound when Ric’s truck keys fell on top of the table.

These ghosts wanted me to go to the crime scene? My stomach churned, though I knew I didn’t have a choice. I had to find this succubus before she found me.

WHAT IS AN ALPHA WITCH ? I know you didn’t ask, but I’ll tell you in a moment. I summoned a wind and gingerly flew over the yellow tape, spellcast to warn humans this house was an active crime scene. The tape was also warded with barriers that repelled witches. Too bad I wasn’t an ordinary witch.

An alpha witch is considered an elite witch, one with extraordinary powers. Only one percent of the striga population is classified as alpha. We’re basically the valedictorians of the magical world. Yes, I said ‘we.’ According to my SWPK (Standard Witch Practical Knowledge) tests, I’m an alpha witch. My magic is powerful, very powerful. I pretty much mastered all spells and potions in my primary years and then slacked off in secondary school.

My parents told me never to reveal the true extent of my powers to my headmistresses, so I didn’t. And even though I held back on my SWPK tests, I was still classified as an alpha. Which was why breaking through the wards on the crime scene was ridiculously easy. Seriously, these investigators were pathetic.

Most witches never achieved the ability to master invisibility spells. I was able to master complete invisibility by age nine, the only reason I’m still alive today, and how I was able sneak into Lenny’s grandmother’s house undetected, wand at the ready should I come across a succubus.

The first thing I noticed was the smell, like burnt metal. It took all my willpower not to gag on the coppery tang of blood that left a foul residue on my tongue as I stepped over splintered chairs and shattered glass.

The house definitely belonged to an old husk. Colorful crocheted Afghans were strewn across the backs of toppled and torn sofas, blood matted the shag carpet, and broken cuckoo clocks lined the walls, their faces smashed. One of the clocks was still ticking as it struck noon. I jumped back, my heart wildly pounding when a few of the birds popped out of their holes, making garbled cries that pinged in my eardrums before they boinged back into their hiding places on twisted springs. There must’ve been at least two dozen busted and tattered cuckoo clocks. I couldn’t imagine humans living with that many clocks. The old woman must’ve had a mini heart attack every hour. That reminded me of something I’d read in the Registry for Supernatural Creatures —succubi hated loud noises. I could only imagine the succubus coming to kill Lenny and then smashing the clocks after being startled.

Succubi also hated sugar and loved salty foods, which meant my next stop would be the kitchen. I had only made it a few steps into the kitchen when I saw it, the huge pile of raw meat sitting in the breakfast table chair.

What the hex was that?

I pulled out my wand as I cautiously approached it. I was too disgusted by the flies buzzing about the twisted pile of goo that I almost didn’t notice that one brown eyeball staring at me from the center of the pile. Bile burned my throat, and it took all my willpower not to heave all over the floor. I clasped a hand to my mouth. I had seen enough.

I spun on my heel, nearly tripping over a pile of empty chip bags and discarded bottles of seasoning and salt. I looked up at a smashed pantry cabinet. The bag of sugar was one of the few things still intact. Yeah, this was definitely the work of a succubus. Any striga with half a brain could tell, which begged the question...

Why did Gus accuse Ric of killing Lenny?

I RETURNED TO RIC’S house in a hurry, kicking up gravel when I pulled into the parking spot. I grabbed my wand and cautiously entered Ric’s home. The first thing I noticed was the heavenly aroma of fried onion and garlic. My mouth watered and my stomach grumbled. The ghosts were cooking?

Imagine my surprise when I arrived to find, of all things, a spinach and feta omelet waiting for me at the kitchen counter.

I thanked the ghosts and sat at the counter, wincing when a ghost put a napkin in my lap and poured me a glass of juice. I did my best to push all thoughts of meat-pile Lenny out of my mind while eating the eggs. They were absolutely delicious with a creamy, buttery cheese sauce that gave the eggs an extra kick. I could eat these for breakfast every morning.

“My compliments to the chef,” I said aloud, pleased when the dishes rattled in response. I wondered if Ric had planned on making me that omelet himself, or if he was going to have his ghost friends make it. Guess it didn’t matter now that I might never see him again. My throat tightened. I really liked him. Really, really liked him.

Was I ready to get married and settle down after one night of mind-blowing sex? Call me certifiably crazy, but no. I wasn’t ready to give up my independence just yet, not after getting out of a stifling relationship. Besides, an outlaw shifter didn’t exactly make for good father material, and I had to think of Des first. But hot damn, I wouldn’t have minded spending Des’s visitation weekends at Ric’s house for some more hot-tubbing, purr-licking, and ghost omelets.

After I finished my eggs, I downed the last of the juice and pushed away my plate. “Okay, ghosts. I need your help. It was a succubus who killed Lenny. I saw the evidence, but I have questions.”

No surprise, the Ouija board floated in front of me, the dial at the ready.

“I need to know,” I asked, “am I safe?”

No.

A knot of dread tightened my chest as I pushed out the words. “Is my son safe?”

No.

Holy flaming pixie pox! Red-hot anger boiled my blood. I would kill any demon that threatened my child!

“Ethyl?”

No.

I worked hard to unclench my teeth. “What do I do?”

Free Ric.

I refrained from rolling my eyes. “How exactly do I do that?”

Witness.

Witness? As if I was just supposed to walk into his trial and tell them they had the wrong killer? “Okay, but I don’t know where the Tribunal is.” Gus had said it was in Europe, but with such a high concentration of striga, Europe had several Tribunals. I couldn’t afford to fly all over the continent looking for him.

Ask Alfred.

That took me off guard. How did the ghosts know about Alfred? I drummed my fingers on the table. These ghosts had to be certifiably crazy. “I don’t have enough money in my checking account for plane tickets overseas, let alone food and lodging.”

Follow.

The dishes rattled and then a napkin flew into the air. Swallowing back my unease, I clutched my wand like a lifeline and followed the floating napkin down the hall and then down a set of stairs into what looked like a study with rows of tall bookcases filled with old tomes and a huge mahogany desk overlooking a pretty garden.

Then one of those tall bookshelves creaked open, revealing a hidden dark hallway. Did those ghosts truly expect me to go down there?

When the napkin fluttered through the doorway, I dug in my heels. I didn’t even know these ghosts. Sure, they made killer omelets and decent coffee, but how did I know they weren’t working for the succubus? Or that they wouldn’t try to lock me away? “Sorry.” I folded my arms and widened my stance. “I’m not going in there.”

I scowled when several books flew off the shelves. “Don’t think you’re bullying me into going. Whatever it is, you can bring it out.”

A sound like the rustle of leaves echoed from inside the tunnel, and then I was hit with a blizzard of money.

“Okay! Okay!” I called to the ghosts.

The money settled on the floor, and I began picking up hundred-dollar bills, piling them in a stack. I supposed it wasn’t stealing since Ric’s ghosts gave me the money. Besides, I was using it to free him. After arranging several stacks, I shoved them into my purse, then blinked up at the ceiling. “Thank you for your help.”

The ghosts responded by smacking me in the head with a book. I was just about to tell off the ghosts when I caught sight of the title etched into the cover. History of the Succubi .

Well, I supposed the book might come in handy, though the material was outdated with a printing date of 1905. I decided to take the book anyway for some light reading on the plane. I waved my wand over the cover, adding a glamour to make it look like a trashy romance novel, Heart of Her Wolves , with a woman and two wolf-shifters. Then I added a shirtless Fae for good measure. Humans went nuts for shirtless Fae, even though they looked more like vampires of the striga race. Humans wouldn’t ask me about my book if they thought I was reading smut. Thank the Goddess for trashy romances!

I CHECKED MY PHONE after I got back in Ric’s truck, not surprised to see about a dozen missed text messages and voicemails from Ethyl telling me Gus shut down the bakery. I texted her back with a simple, cryptic message that I knew she would understand: She found me. Pack a suitcase.

Ethyl’s response was too unladylike to repeat, but at least she got the message.

A thousand thoughts ran through my mind after I deposited Ric’s money into my bank account and drove home to pack for me and Des. First off, how would I explain to Colin that I needed to pick up Des early because the succubus who killed my parents had found me? He knew about the succubus, though I hadn’t told him everything. All he knew was that my parents had met an untimely end after suffering the misfortune of stumbling across a soul sucker. He also knew I was terrified of succubi as a result, which was why I had put off having children long enough that he’d threatened divorce. Did I regret having Des? No. But I deeply regretted bringing him into such a dangerous and cruel world.

And now I was dragging him into the heart of the devil’s den.

Des didn’t deserve this. He was entitled to a safe and loving home, and now I was going to take him to an unknown country so I could go up against a system that was clearly corrupt, maybe even in league with the succubi.

Gus was a stupid little twat, but even he should’ve recognized the obvious signs of a succubi attack, which meant that he was either working for the succubi, or else he had some other vendetta against Ric.

Did I want to get mixed up in this and drag Des and Ethyl into it, too?

I hadn’t realized I’d been clutching the steering wheel so hard until I pulled into my driveway and uncurled my knuckles, the leather crunching as I released it.

The first thing I noticed as the midday sun beat down on Ric’s dashboard was that the outside was relatively quiet, not a cat in sight, which was strange. Gladys, my nosey neighbor who shared a condo wall with me, loved to feed stray cats, which meant the felines were always on my side of the yard, too.

The second thing I noticed was the nosey neighbor herself was sitting in front of her arched entryway, her gray hair tucked beneath a baseball cap and her normally dull eyes protected by oversized sunglasses. As usual, her pale features were draped in a permanent frown, but what was most striking was the rather large baseball bat she clutched with whitened knuckles. Last I checked, Gladys hadn’t been recruited by the Mafia to go around breaking kneecaps, but considering the several strange turns my life had recently taken, I supposed anything was possible.

I hopped out of the truck and waved at my neighbor. “You alright, Gladys?”

She gave me a cool look over the rim of her glasses while squeezing her bat. “Where did you get that truck?”

I scratched the back of my head, wondering why it was any of her business. “Uh, it’s my boyfriend’s,” I lied. Ric wasn’t my boyfriend, not yet, anyway, but she didn’t need to know that.

I took a few hesitant steps toward her. “Everything okay here?”

She frowned, raising her bat. “Does it look like everything is okay?”

As I approached, I noticed the police whistle around her neck, and then my eyes bulged when I saw two distinct objects tucked into the cupholder on her foldable chair. The first was an industrial can of bear mace. The second was a string of rosary beads with a crucifix on the end.

I silently prayed Gladys was preparing for an apocalypse of zombie bears, though I had a sickening feeling it was something far more sinister.

I motioned to the can of mace. “What happened?”

She turned up her chin, her lower lip wobbling. “A burglar tried to break in.”

I feigned shock as a sickening feeling twisted my gut. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She raised her sunglasses, glaring at me through bloodshot eyes. “I haven’t slept all night. I’m terrified he’ll come back.”

I swallowed at that. Just a burglar. A coincidence, right? So what was up with the rosary beads? “Did you call the police?”

“Of course!”

“And?” I asked. Considering she was the neighborhood gossip, it sure was difficult getting pertinent information out of her this morning.

“What could they do?” She looked away as she visibly swallowed. There was something she wasn’t telling me. “He was already gone by the time they arrived.”

“Did you get the burglar on your camera?” I asked, then tensed. Did I want to see the camera footage? If it was a succubus, I would certainly see the aura of the witch it was possessing.

“It doesn’t show his face.” She pouted. “He wore a hoodie and gloves.”

“I doubt he’ll be back with all the security you have on your house.” I waved at the many security cameras she had pointed at her yard and even my yard, something she and I had argued about more than once. Truthfully, Gladys and I weren’t exactly on the best terms ever since I reported her to our HOA for aiming a camera into my backyard. The camera had since been removed, but no telling what she saw. Des doesn’t always do a great job concealing his magic, which is why he plays basketball at night.

She folded her glasses in her flannel shirt pocket and slowly stood. “A camera isn’t going to stop the devil.”

“The-the what?” I stammered, but I’d heard her. Alarm bells went off in my head. She thought she saw the devil, which meant a succubus had probably tried to break into her house. No doubt it had gone to the wrong door.

“I want you to see something.” She waved me toward her as she pulled out her phone. “The police laughed when I showed them.”

What she showed me turned my blood to ice. I couldn’t tell the gender of the intruder, for he or she was covered head to toe in black, including a hoodie and mask that covered all but the eyes. I did see a faint aura, which meant the intruder was a witch, a weak one, but a witch nonetheless. Why was a witch trying to break into my neighbor’s house? Was it a succubus? If so, why would a succubus possess a weak witch when they’ve always preferred powerful striga? The witch tried to open the front door, then swore when the handle wouldn’t turn. Were they expecting the door to be open? The alarm went off, and the witch looked into the camera before taking off at a run.

And that’s when I saw them, those red, demonic eyes.

Holy cauldron! A succubus!

My knees weakened as I lowered myself onto Gladys’s chair.

“You saw it, too? The glowing eyes!”

Gladys sounded like she was a hundred miles away, her voice echoing as a hammer pounded a nail through my skull. The succubus was here! She was after me, which meant I had no choice but to flee with my son to Europe.

“Luci!”

Too weak to stand, I gaped up at Gladys. “What did the police say when they saw this?”

She rolled her eyes as she pocketed her phone. “They laughed and said it was just the lighting.”

Merlin’s dirty butt plug. I had to get the hell out of here—now.