“You can’t leave. You need to fix this, Lennox!” Magda screams after me, her fury bouncing impotently around the walls and marble floor.
I keep walking.
“Osteomancer! I order you to fix the damage that you’ve done!” she roars.
I shake my head, baffled by this woman’s audacity. I stop and turn back to her, holding up the ancient grimoire that she stole and planned to destroy. “I would love to help you, but some asshole stole my book, and I wasn’t able to learn how. Maybe put some Windex on it, I’ve heard it’s a good cure-all, or…” I tilt my head, mimicking the gruesome angle of her arm. “Yeah, you should probably call an ambulance, see what the Lesser doctors can do for you. Good luck!” I call out sweetly over my shoulder as I turn to leave.
We clear the mess I made with the vase and mirror when suddenly Hoot wakes up and starts wiggling around in Rogan’s arms like he’s been possessed by one of those inflatable air dancers that businesses put outside to draw people’s attention as they drive by. Rogan rushes to put him down so he doesn’t make a jump for it and hurt himself.
I get ready for the tater tot to bolt, but surprisingly, he stops in the middle of the entryway and does what Hoot does best, he stinks up the place via one large pile of shit. The smell is like a jab by a heavy weight to my olfactory receptors. If I weren’t trying to keep from throwing up, I’d be impressed with just how much the little guy had in him.
Rogan looks at Hoot with utter shock, like something that cute shouldn’t be capable of something so vile. I would laugh except that would require me breathing right now, and there’s no way in hell I’m sucking those cloying fumes into these precious lungs.
Hoot finishes his gift and then trots to the door, me and Rogan tight on his heels. We hurry out, my aunt and cousin’s rage-filled screams chasing after us as we go. I ignore the threats and promises of retribution, mostly because I’m running out of air and need to get outside with a quickness.
I’m sure they’ll come for me again someday, but for Magda, that’ll be after a couple of surgeries and some pretty intense physical therapy. They may try to find another Bone Witch to fix her, but unless Rogan and I uncover the mystery of where the others have gone, I’m the only one left on this side of the globe.
I shut the front doors behind me, and the demon screams all but disappear. I take a deep, relieved breath and then another as Rogan scoops Hoot back up and looks at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. I reach over and rub behind Hoot’s ears. Guess my pep talk in the car really sunk in; he took that shit to the next level, literally.
A lightness creeps into my chest, and I can’t help the smile that slinks across my face as I head for my car. I guess all those memes were right, victory really is sweet. I mean, I don’t know that I’d say that it’s better than any dessert I’ve ever had, but it’s nice to come out on top for once. A girl could get used to this.
7
Screeching tires and the smell of burnt rubber assault me as a Prius comes tearing up the road, rounds the ostentatious fountain, and skids to a stop a few feet away from where Rogan and I are standing in front of the mansion that’s now seen better days. Out of nowhere, a barred hand slams against my chest, pushing me back. I shout out an objection, but Rogan is already in front of me, an incantation pouring from his lips, and a vile of some kind of potion being thrown at the ground. A thin veil of red shoots up in front of us, separating us from the car.
I grab onto Rogan’s shoulder, but before I can tell him everything is fine, he cuts me off.
“Get back, I’ll protect us!”
I roll my eyes and turn to find Hoot sitting on the stone walkway, watching, his expression bored. I motion with my thumb toward Rogan in a distinct can you believe this guy kind of way, but Hoot just blinks and then lifts a leg and pees on a planter that has a trimmed boxwood growing in it. He’s really taking our chat to heart.
“What the fuck?” Tad yelps in alarm as he shoves his car door open and stumbles out to take in the sudden magical wall of protection.
“Watch your language!” Aunt Hillen warns as she hops out of the passenger side of the car. “I swear if I have to tell you that one more time, Thaddeus Tristan Osseus, I’m going to wash that filthy mouth out with soap!”
I snicker at Tad getting three-named, and Rogan turns to me, confused.
“Thank you, king caveman, for your protection against my cousin and aunt. Whatever would I have done without you?” I deadpan, rubbing at my chest where he just arm barred me.
“I practically save your life, and sarcastic barbs are all the thanks I get?” he deadpans back.
“Saved my life?” I gesture toward Tad and Hillen. “We’re not in danger, Will Robinson. I mean, it’s a Prius, for heaven’s sake, what kind of menace are you really expecting to pour out of those four doors?”
“With witches being taken, you can’t be too careful,” he argues, pulling his switchblade out and slicing a small line in his finger, all in one deft motion. He touches the barrier with a drop of his blood, and the claret wall dissolves like it was made of nothing more than vapor. I step out from behind my unsolicited bodyguard and wave at Tad and Hillen.
“I know I just met you, Rogan Kendrick, but I can already see that you have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later,” I point out.
He scoffs indignantly, clearly not possessing even a single ounce of self-awareness.
“Oh, you don’t believe me, the girl you sneak attacked and forced to become a familiar? Or maybe we should ask the two innocent people you just tried to magically turn into bacon?” This only earns me an eye roll from him.
“Excuse me, hi,” Tad coos as he waves at us frantically until Rogan and I both look over. “As much as I could watch this tête-à-tête that’s just oozing all kinds of raw sexual tension all day, we have an ass kicking to get to.”
“As if,” I counter, apparently going full Valley girl with my denial even though I live on the wrong coast.
“Riiight,” Tad snarks back and then points at the front door of Magda and Gwen’s house in a let’s get on with it kind of way. His mahogany-colored gaze is filled with such excitement I almost feel bad that I didn’t wait for them.
I adopt an apologetic mien. “You’re too late. The smackdown already occurred. In fact, there’s probably an ambulance and some cops headed this way as we speak, so we should get the hell out of here.”
“Dammit, I knew it!” Tad huffs out. “Stupid school bus, making us miss this. I’m going to track down that driver and fight her if it’s the last thing I do,” he declares, stomping back toward his car, and I laugh.
“She was like eighty. Give the old lady a break,” his mom scolds, and I laugh even harder.
“Oh don’t you start, Ma, you were just as excited as I was,” Tad volleys.
“You called her a ninny when you finally passed her, isn’t that enough?” Aunt Hillen asks as she opens up her car door.
I shoot an amused yet judgmental look at my cousin and mouth, ninny?
“She was,” he defends. “And when your mother is the swearword-police, sometimes you need to get creative with shit.”