by Ani Gonzalez
She then patted Pookie on the head then stood up in a swift, lady-like motion. Elizabeth, unlike me, was the type of girlie-girl who did everything gracefully. "He's such a cutie. I can tell why he has his own fan club."
"He's adorable, all right," I responded, not mentioning that Pookie, or Poocong as he's known in the Fourth Circle of Hell, is also deadly, sarcastic and cheats at poker.
"He'll love it here," Elizabeth replied, as we entered the house. "Lots of ghosts to chase, which will give tons of wonderful footage for your show."
Pookie trotted inside muttering "I don't chase. I obliterate" under his breath.
Elizabeth waved her hand around. "Let's start the tour. This is the foyer, very spacious, as you can see."
I noticed she didn't mention the cracked sidelights or the deep gouges on the mahogany door.
Smart.
I stood in the threshold, unable to keep from making a mental list of all the things that could made those scratches. I followed the list with an analysis of the kind of summoning that would break the glass.
The answers were not comforting.
But at least those were things I could deal with. The way the floor dipped under my boots was a different story. Did the foundation need to be replaced? That sounded expensive.
I followed Elizabeth into the living room, senses at full alert. It was a surprisingly bright and open space, with mint green wallpaper and old shutters. I could imagine a small, tufted sofa in front of the windows, flanked by dainty winged chairs, maybe even a fringed lamp to complete the picture.
The image was sweet and peaceful and completely at odds with what I knew about the house. Weird.
"Everything needs updating, of course," Elizabeth said cheerfully. "But the house is livable."
"Define livable," Pookie muttered, glancing back at the foyer.
I wasn't sure if he was referring to the claw marks or to the shaky floors, and I didn't ask. Ignorance was bliss in this instance, at least for now.
"Come look at the dining room," Elizabeth continued, resolutely ignoring whatever it was she was hearing. "It has wonderful windows."
It did. The room was octagonal in shape and perfectly suited for formal rituals and enchantments. As it should be, as it was built exactly for that purpose. I wasn't a big fan of the candle-and-chanting traditions—I was more of an improv enchanter. I could, however, appreciate the details. Five antique candleholders still hung on the walls and you could still see the remains of the pentagram design on the floor. The wood had been sanded and re-stained, but it was still there.
Barely.
But the pattern seemed to grow clearer as I stared at it. Lines of power criss-crossed the old wood table.
"Looks like you triggered something," Pookie noted unnecessarily. "Fun."
I frowned, staring at the lines. This was not magic I recognized.
"Isn't the table gorgeous?" Elizabeth asked. "It's hard to find an eight-sided table, so it comes with the house."
"Yes, lovely," I lied.
We were both lying. The table was a large wood octagon with eccentric carvings and little charm or style, but Elizabeth was right. It would be hard to find a piece of furniture to fit this room. This table had likely been built for the house by the family.
Which said a lot about my lineage's supreme lack of taste. That table was one of the ugliest pieces of furniture I had ever seen in my life.
"Wait until you see the kitchen," Elizabeth said, as she crossed the room, not noticing anything unusual. 'It's quite spacious, which was quite rare for the time."
"Of course," I replied, trying not to smile. Victorian houses usually had depressingly tiny kitchens that were strictly for staff. This room, however, was large and bright, with expansive counters and lots of room to work.
"Cooking must have been so much fun here," Elizabeth said, running her hand over the polished wood countertops.
That comment made me chuckle. Cooking wasn't the only activity done in this room, as evidenced by the runes carved on the counters.
Runes that seemed to be glowing.
I traced a y-shaped rune of protection and reached out, trying to perceive.
Nothing.
If, as Pookie said, I triggered something, it wasn't immediately obvious.
"There's even an herb garden right here." Elizabeth opened the dutch door to the side yard and stepped outside.
Pookie followed her, eager to explore his new domain. He'd probably pee the whole place, just to mark it as his own.
Demon dog pee. Just what the house needed.
I followed them , even though I already knew what the garden looked like. I was eager to get out of the house. Something felt wrong. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, but the wrongness permeated the whole house.
The sky had grown cloudy, and the overgrown garden was cold and dark. I ambled to the moon dial, where Pookie was already busy marking his territory. A sudden gust of wind made my silver hair fly up, gray strands blowing wildly, and I instantly regretted not using a ponytail.
"Dark clouds," I whispered "Creepy feeling. Pentagram appearing on the floor. Does any of this ring a bell?"
"I'll take 'things best tackled on an empty bladder' for five hundred, Alex," the dog growled in reply.
His words were lighthearted, but his ears came to attention and his eyes acquired a startling amber glow, a reminder of his true origins.
I could feel the power, rising. The electricity crackling in the air. This was going to be a doozy.
Elizabeth's phone beeped, startling us all.
Well, maybe not all. Pookie's glowing eyes were focused on the device. He did not look away.
"Excuse me." Elizabeth checked her messages quickly, as a cold breeze wafted up to us.
I looked around for weapons. Scraggly mint plants, rosemary bushes, a cracked moon dial and a mossy garden gnome were all I could find.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said. "I have a family emergency." Her lips thinned. "I apologize profusely. We can come back so I can show you the bedrooms—"
Well, wasn't this convenient? Elizabeth found an urgent reason to leave just as the magic stared swirling around us. Like I said, Banshee Creek folk were very attuned to these things.
Not that I was complaining. I was definitely not averse to getting the innocent bystander out of her ASAP.
"Don't worry," I told her, putting a little magical oomph behind my words. "I'll drop by your office to sign the paperwork tomorrow."
He face brightened. "Then you are buying it. That's fantastic. I wasn't sure..."
"That I would indeed purchase a house with a deadly history, faulty plumbing, and a family of bats living in the attic?" I laughed despite the ominously darkening sky.
Elizabeth smiled as she pushed her flying hair off her face. The wind was getting worse.
"Well, creepy can be nice sometimes." She put her phone in her purse and shook my hand. "See you tomorrow."
Then she ran off as the armies of hell were pursing her.
Which wasn't far from the truth, to be honest.
A nearby shutter banged against the house and a bolt of lighting crosses the sky. I watched Elizabeth hurry out and wondered what the heck type of defense could I conjure with a bunch of wilting mint leaves and an old garden gnome.
Elizabeth was right, creepy could be nice sometimes.
This wasn't one of those times.
"Well, the civilian is out of the way," Pookie said, eyes still glowing. "Let's see what kind of homecoming present this house has for us."
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Copyright and Disclaimer
Copyright © March 2020, Ani Gonzalez
Cover Art by Ani Gonzalez © March 2020
Copy Edited by EBookEditingPro
Produced in U.S.A.
Published by Ani Gonzalez
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Luck of the Witchy is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any from or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, but not limited to, digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing, without permission in writing from the author.
