Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Your kind isn’t welcome here,” he sneers and the hate and rage he’s carrying passes through me for a split second.
“No, you’re the one not welcome!” I shoot back, holding up my hands as I spin back around, looking in the mirror for him. “This is my house.”
Another loud bang echoes through the house, reverberating off the walls. The lights flicker and then go out. I hear Rene yelp with fear and I inch toward the door, holding up my right hand to summon a fireball. The dark shadow of a man stands right in front of the bathroom door. Sinister laughter sounds in my head and then I sense his deep satisfaction as scissors snip and a lock of hair falls to the floor. The fucker cut hair from his victims to keep as trophies.
“What did you do?” I demand, and the fire in my hand grows brighter. The shadow shrinks down, slipping out under the bathroom door. “Ethan!” I yell, wanting to warn him that the spirit is coming into the room. Still holding fire, I twist the doorknob with my other hand.
And it doesn’t budge.
“Dammit,” I grumble and try twisting the lock. Nothing works, and the door is completely jammed. “Ethan!” I call out again. “The freaking door is jammed.”
“Hang on,” Ethan calls back and I hear his footsteps as he hurries over. The doorknob rattles but doesn’t turn. “Step back.”
I move to the other side of the room, out of the way as Ethan kicks the door in. The wood around the lock splinters and the door swings open. Eyes wide, he steps into the room and comes right to me, hand landing on my hip. “You okay?”
“Yeah. The angry male spirit manifested.”
“I heard you talking.”
“Did you hear him talking as well?”
Ethan shakes his head. “Are you hurt?”
“I said I’m okay,” I retort. “He’s so full of rage, and I think I know why.” I bite my lip, needing to test a theory. The very first time I stepped foot in this house, I used magic to unlock the door. And I felt unwelcome and unwanted right away. But there was something else, something I don’t think I allowed myself to really even think about until just now. People have intrusive thoughts and our first instinct is usually to push them away and not give them any power. We don’t really believe those things, after all?
Yeah, I could hurt someone, but I wouldn’t because I don’t want to and it’s not me.
And what I felt when I walked into the house wasn’t just that I wasn’t welcome. It was that I wasn’t worthy.
Holding up my hand to light my way, we go back into the room. “Nik, I need you to do something, like literally anything, using faery magic.”
Light from the laptop illuminates his face and he thinks for a second before rubbing his thumb over his fingers, creating a tiny bit of shimmery blue faery dust. He tosses it up and snaps his fingers, causing the dust to crackle with static electricity that lights up the room, bathing everyone in blue light, for just a few seconds before sizzling out.
The bedroom door slams shut.
“I was right.”
“About what?” Rene asks shakily.
“We’re not just dealing with any old spirit.”
“What are we dealing with?”
“The dark spirit of a witch hunter.”
Chapter
Nineteen
Gasping, I startle and almost bump into the candle in front of me.
“What did you see?” Ethan rushes out, too worried about something happening to me to just let me do my thing.
“Hang on,” I whisper and push my shoulders back. I’m sitting cross legged on the bedroom floor, reaching out to Allison. She just showed me her death and my heart is hammering as fear and adrenaline flood my body.
I’m safe. I’m not the one being drugged and beaten.
The scene rewinds in my mind, playing out again. She’s in her bed, and Marissa is on the floor, already dead.
It’s him. He killed me.
I see the same man who appeared in the bathroom mirror. His rage is palpable again and if this wasn’t premeditated, I would think this is a crime of passion. But he waited and watched until he had the chance to sneak in without being caught.
“Who?” I ask out loud. “Who is he?”
She wants to tell me but his spirit, fueled by hate, is stronger. Allison is gone and the air around me gets cold. Something scratches my arm, making me jump again.
“We’re done,” Ethan says. I open my eyes as he comes over, footsteps shaking the floorboards beneath me. “You’re bleeding.” He blows out the candle and kneels down next to me, taking my arm in his hand. “Get the lights,” he tells the others and someone flicks on the overhead light. I blink, eyes adjusting to the light. There are four scratch marks on my arm, and Ethan gently puts his fingers over them. Someone with large hands scratched me and it’s no mystery who.