Chapter1
Oakley
Rancid green liquid seeped between my fingers.
Scrunching my nose, I tried not to inhale the stench. Panic scratched its jagged nails along my insides, and I pushed it down, forcing it to retract its claws.
You can do this, Oakley.
Gurgles reverberated through the empty house, echoing off the stacks of boxes still taped shut and perched throughout the living room. They were followed by a piercing screech that would likely alert the neighborhood watch—if they existed here—that something was amiss at 13 Starry Night Lane.
I ran to the sink, avoiding touching anything with my desecrated hands, holding the putrid fabric in front of me. Using only my elbow, I turned the water on. Steam billowed from the sink, and I scrubbed and washed and repeated the process over and over, waiting for a knock at the door—for someone,anyone, to come.
To rescue me.
I shuffled to the mirror, heart ramping its rhythm, stammering against my ribs. The woman looking back at me was unrecognizable. Eyeliner was smudged into deep crescents beneath her eyes and her hair was pulled up into a messy auburn bun with pale streaks crusted through it. Her once white T-shirt was smeared with assorted stains.
I reached up to touch the unidentifiable moist stripe across my shoulder. It was pale yellow and sticky, sending a shiver through me. Bringing my hands back under the steaming water, I washed once again before drying them on the sink towel and turning toward the door.
It was open just a crack, enough to allow a sliver of moonlight into my bedroom. Each tiptoe closer, I could feel my lack of sanity bubbling over, one fluid ounce at a time. Peering through the crevice, my gaze drifted toward the foot of the bed. A roaring gurgle followed by a pungent odor, musty and foul, sent me staggering back a few paces into the hall.
Surely only something summoned from the depths of Hell smelled like that.
Taking a deep inhale and exhale, I gripped the door with one hand, bracing myself on its frame with the other.
Be brave.
I chanted it in my mind on repeat like some powerful incantation.
Steeling my spine and holding my breath, I slipped inside to face the fiend within.
* * *
It had beentwenty-four hours of the two of us facing off in this house alone, my little demon winning by a poopsplosion-landslide.
Mommy: 0
Aspen: 63—at a minimum.
My sister’s date must have gonereallywell because Hazel still wasn’t back a day later.Good for her.How she ever found these sex gods that could last fordayswas enviable.
I barely had enough energy to wash my hair.
My gaze dropped down to my shirt’s replacement, already mottled with damp spit-up. Partially covered by the fabric, a tiny fist beat impatiently against my breast.Our matching chestnut eyes locked, the only feature he’d gotten from me, and I stroked Aspen’s hand with my finger, garnering a gummy grin and a soft coo in response.
The pure joy of it snatched the breath from my lungs.
As I bent down, I greedily inhaled his sweet witchling smell, savoring it before giving him a kiss on his chubby pink cheek.
“You’re lucky you’ve got me spellbound.”
A knock at the door jolted me from his enchantment, instantly souring my mood.
Who knocks on a door after nine o’clock at night?
Hazel had keypad access with our newly installed home system, so I knew it wasn’t her. Whoever it was, they were lucky Aspen wasn’t sleeping because I would hex someone in a heartbeat for waking him at this point.
Not that Iactuallycould with so little magic flowing through my veins, but it was the spirit of the sentiment that counted.
