Mystic Willow Bay, Witches Series: The Secret Life of a Witch

by Jessica Sorensen

  As the demons drink their freshly poured whiskey, the bloodthirsty looks go down a notch. A few of the other demons seem utterly bored with my presence. One of them even yawns. Some appear mildly intrigued, other marginally annoyed. Another laughs at me.

  The sound sends a chill up my spine. I know that mocking laugh.

  I squint through the smoke and, sure enough, I make out a dark-haired, pierced, Goth prince laughing at me from the far back corner.

  Max is dressed head to toe in black, with chains hanging from his pants and leather bands covering his wrists. His clunky boots are kicked up on a table, and he’s tipped back in the chair with his hands tucked behind his head. So casual. Not a care in the world. As if he’s unafraid of me trying to run, trying to fight. Like I won’t do anything.

  Irritation works underneath my skin, only amplifying as a smirk spreads across his face.

  I narrow my eyes at him and glance over my shoulder, looking for a place to run, and not just to escape, but to prove a point—that I’m tougher than I look. But it’s an act. A reaction … Okay, okay, maybe I’m not tough. That doesn’t mean I can’t change that.

  Elevating my chin and throwing his smirk right back at him, I spin on my heels and rush toward a narrow crack nestled in the far back wall. I’m not sure if I can fit through it or where it leads, but I’m not about to stand around and let these demons do … Well, whatever they’re planning on doing to me.

  The second I try to squeeze through the crack in the wall, I smack into an invisible barrier and fly backward, landing on my ass.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumble as a puddle seeps through the bottom of my shorts. “An invisible force field? Really, Max? That’s the best you’ve got?”

  The music dies, and the quiet that follows has me feeling about as stiff as a broomstick.

  “You say that like you didn’t just get knocked flat on your ass.” Max’s voice comes from right beside my ear, so close I can feel his breath.

  Startled beyond all magical control, I nearly pee my pants. Thankfully, I manage to keep my bladder in check. Although, I’m not sure it would matter since the ass of my shorts is already sopping wet.

  “You know, if I had my wand, I could escape,” I lie, leaning forward and stumbling to my feet.

  “Sure you could.” His condescending tone makes my fingers curl inward.

  I turn around to face him with my hands balled at my side, attempting not to notice how much more intimidating—and sexy—he looks up close.

  Sexy? Jeez, Eva, get a grip on yourself.

  Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to tell my hormones to cool the freeze spells down while being around Max. Demon or not, there’s no denying the guy is attractive. Well, if you like that Goth, bad boy look, which I usually don’t. My taste has always been blond-haired, piercing free, slightly on the preppy side guys. Aka Hunter. Then again, the last time I saw Hunter, he pretty much looked like Max, except for with blond hair and no piercings. That I could see, anyway.

  I crinkle my nose at the memory of how he told me that was how he looked when he wasn’t around me. He looked so strange to me. Hot? Yes. Maybe even hotter. But unfamiliar. Not the best friend I thought I knew.

  “What’s that look for?” Max questions with a curve of his brow. “You’re not thinking about that pretty boy wizard you’re in love with, are you?”

  My lip twitches that he knew exactly where my thoughts were. “Nope. I was actually thinking about how much this place reeks like a sewer. That’s probably because of all the demons lurking around.”

  Instead of getting irritated, he smirks. “You and I both know that you think I smell”—he makes air quotes—“ ‘lovely’.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re a little confused about the proper way to use air quotes.”

  His smirk never falters. “And why’s that?”

  “Because, at some point, I would’ve had to say you smelled lovely, and I can assure you I never have.” Aloud, anyway.

  His lips span into a haughty grin. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Um, yeah.” I try to convey confidence, but the arrogance in his expression is making me all squirrely.

  He reaches forward to lightly tug on a strand of my hair. “You know, you’re quite the little sleep talker. At first, I was a little annoyed, especially when you kept going on and on about that stupid blond, wannabe punk rocker wizard. But when you shifted your focus on me …” He grins. “Well, I found it quite amusing and very insightful.”

  My heart thunders in my chest. “I don’t sleep talk.”

  “You can’t possibly know that for sure.” He gently tugs on my hair again. “And I assure you, you do. A lot. In fact, you might be even more chatty while you’re asleep.” His gaze drops to my lips. “And those little moaning noises you make are absolutely delicious.”

  My cheeks flame, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of rage. “I don’t moan in my sleep, nor do I talk. And even if I did, I’d never, ever talk about you. At least, not in a positive way.”

  The stupid grin remains as he grazes his knuckles across my cheekbone with a look of fascination. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

  I angle my head away from his hand, despite the shiver his touch elicited. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Demons can’t blush, you know,” he continues on, ignoring me. “At least, I’ve never seen one do it. But you, my little rainbow trout, are a complete anomaly. And an adorable one at that.”

  “Stop calling me adorable like that,” I gripe while casting a glance at the rest of the demons.

  Great, they’re all watching this little scene unfold, looking both annoyed and fascinated.

  His brows furrow. “Like what?”

  “Like I’m this cute, little sprite or something. It’s unflattering.”

  “Sprites aren’t cute,” he assures me. “They’re tasty.”

  My eyes pop wide. “You eat sprites?”

  He gives a shrug. “I haven’t personally, but a lot of us do.” He points over his shoulder at the rest of the demons. “I don’t know why you’re getting upset after you just said it was unflattering to be compared to a sprite. I mean, clearly you don’t think that highly of them.”

  I cross my arms. “Just because I think it’s unflattering to be compared to a creature that thinks the best day ever is giggling for three hours straight while circling a seven-year-old’s head and poking her until she cries, doesn’t mean I think it’s okay to eat them.”

  He gives me a suspicious look. “Did this seven-year-old happen to have rainbow trout eyes and a very stubborn personality?”

  “I’m not stubborn,” I protest.

  He snorts a laugh. “Okay.”

  My lip twitches in annoyance. “Just because I don’t fall at your feet after you kidnap me or dive into your arms when you ask me to kiss you, doesn’t make me stubborn. It makes me smart.”

  “Fall at my feet, huh?” He rubs his jaw thoughtfully. “No, I’m pretty sure you did do that.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He leans in toward me, his smile all shiny and annoyingly attractive. “Yes, you did.”

  “Dropping me at your feet doesn’t count.” I refuse to budge, even when he slants closer.

  Sure, every instinct in me is screaming to run, that he’s a demon; but with no other place to go, all I can do is stand my ground and pretend to be more badass than I am.

  He rolls his eyes. “Why on earth would I ever drop you?”

  “Um, because you’re a demon,” I say, like duh. “And that’s what demons do.”

  Amusement dances in his eyes. “They drop pretty witches? Huh, I guess I’ll have to add that to the demon handbook, because I’m pretty sure none of us know about that rule. If we did, we might do it more often. And I think, while I’m at it, I’ll add a rule where we have to carry around pretty witches with rainbow eyes around on our shoulders while they sleep and make hot moaning noises, because that
was by far my favorite part.” He winks at me.

  My heart flutters. Yes, it actually flutters. In my defense, it lasts for only a snap of a finger.

  “You’re so annoying.”

  He winks at me again. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it.”

  “If I were you, I’d get that thing checked out.” I circle my finger in front of his eye. “Because, from what I hear, when a demon’s eye starts to twitch, it means he’s prematurely aging.”

  He stares at me, unimpressed. “Demons don’t age, but nice try.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I slant forward and squint at his eye. “I’m pretty sure all these lines around your eyes are crow’s feet.”

  He really doesn’t have any lines, but demons are vain, and I know my comment will bug the crap out of him. At least, I thought it would. All he does is lean in closer and put his lips beside my ear.

  “I know for a fact you don’t think I have crow’s feet. Just like I know for a fact that you think I smell lovely and find me completely and utterly sexy in a way you’re unfamiliar with.” His hand finds my waist, his fingers folding inward. “But I won’t make you admit that.” He pauses. “Yet. Not when I have bigger things to worry about.”

  I open my mouth to tell him there’s no chance in demon hell that I find him attractive, but the words are ripped from my lips when he chants a sleep curse.

  Heat blasts through me, starting in my chest and working outward, making my limbs go limp.

  “You evil troll …” My voice echoes away as I teeter sideways toward the ground. “Why does everyone keep putting me to sleep?”

  Instead of hitting the rocky floor, I fall straight into Max’s arms.

  Scooping me up, he turns and carries me away from the crack in the wall.

  “Where are you taking me?” I mumble through the dizziness sloshing around in my head.

  He continues walking with his eyes trained ahead. “To my room.”

  “Why?” I murmur sleepily. “What’re you going to do to me?”

  He chuckles, a low sound that reverberates throughout my body. “Well, to start with, we’re going to talk.” He holds me tighter against his chest. “Then, after that, we’ll see.”

  I’m not sure what he means about anything, but before I can ask him, darkness funnels around me and drags me under.

  Chapter 3

  I hate that this is happening. I hate that everything feels out of control. I hate that everyone has lied to me.

  I hate…

  I hate…

  I hate…

  I hurt…

  I hurt…

  I hurt…

  “Eva,” Ryleigh’s voice graces my ears. “Can you hear me?”

  Usually when she speaks to me, I feel calm. But right now, all I feel is anger. So, instead of opening my eyes, I lie motionless.

  “Eva, please,” she begs. “I know you’re mad at me, but this is important.”

  I don’t want to listen to her, but the plea in her voice makes me feel bad.

  Dammit! I hate having a conscience!

  Sighing, I blink my eyes open to wispy clouds lazily floating across a glittering purple sky. I’ve been here before, when Hunter put a sleeping curse on me. And like before, the place makes me instantly feel calm and at peace. Then, again like before, the clouds shift and begin to run like wet paint.

  I jump up and shield my head with my arms as drops of clouds splatter across my skin.

  “Again? What the hell?”

  “It’s just how this place works,” Ryleigh says apologetically.

  I turn in a circle, trying to spot her across the field lined with trees. “Okay, but what is this place? It sounds like you know, and honestly, every time I come here, I get a weird sense of déjà vu.”

  “That’s because you’ve been here before.” Ryleigh’s shadow appears in front of me. “When you were younger, I used to bring you here.”

  I inch through the grass toward her. “Why?”

  “To calm you down,” she whispers, sounding remorseful. “When you were first taken from the demon lair, you had nightmares every night. So, I finally slipped into your dreams and brought you here. After about a month of this place, you stopped having nightmares … It’s something I can do—travel into peoples’ dreams.”

  Yet another thing I didn’t know about her.

  Slowly, the shadow starts to shift into her. Well, the dead version of her, with long, blonde lily white hair; big, blue, bloodshot eyes; and pale skin. The sight of her brings me zero comfort, only anger.

  “You lied to be,” I bite out, stopping in my tracks. “All my life, you and our parents—your parents—lied to me. Even Hunter and Opal, my only real friends. I guess nothing was real, was it?”

  “That’s not true,” she insists. “How we feel about you, that is real. We all care about you, Eva. And you and I might not be blood-related, but you’re still my sister … Always will be.”

  I shake my head, fighting back tears. “If that were true—if you really cared about me—you would’ve told me the truth a long time ago.” I swallow hard. “Honestly, I don’t even think I believe you. After lying to me for all those years, who’s to say you’re not lying to me now?”

  Tears flood her eyes. “Eva, I’m so sorry we did this to you,” she whispers. “I really am. There were so many times I wanted to tell you … But the society wouldn’t let me—wouldn’t let any of us.” She stares down at her hands. “I wasn’t the only one who wanted to tell you the truth. Hunter did, too.” She looks up at me. “He really cares about you.”

  I grit my teeth. “Did he tell you to say that?” I ask, and she nods. “How? Can he, like, communicate with the dead, too, or something?”

  She shakes her head. “No. But he knew if he talked to me, I’d hear him. Just like he knew that I’d eventually come here and pass along the message.”

  “Sounds like you know each other well.” I mentally curse the jealousy that creeps into my tone.

  “It’s not like that, Eva. Hunter and I are just friends.”

  “Yeah, I thought we were, too.” Pressure builds in my chest as I realize that maybe we never were anything. That perhaps I was just Hunter’s job, and that all those years of being in love with him was wasted time.

  “You two are more than friends, and I think you know that.” Her voice is soft and cautious.

  I shake my head, staring down at the ground. “I don’t know anything anymore.” I really don’t.

  Everything I thought I knew was a lie. All lies. Every single day.

  Sucking in an uneven breath, I raise my head and meet her gaze. “Why are you here?”

  “To see you. To make sure you’re okay.” She gives an elongated pause. “And to see if you can help us figure out where you are.”

  “I’m fine,” I tell her. “As for where I am, I can’t help you.”

  She frowns. “You don’t have any idea?”

  I shake my head. “All I know is that Max took me to some demon lair, but I don’t know where it is.”

  “Max?” she questions with a raise of her brows. “Is that the demon who kidnapped you?”

  I nod. “Or, well, it’s what he told me to call him. I’m not sure if it’s his real name or not.” I hug my arms around myself as the wind picks up. “He’s also the one who rescued you from the tunnels.”

  She tenses. “The one you made the deal with to free me?”

  I nod again. “But taking me wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “Then why did he take you?”

  “I have no idea. He did say he was going to bring me back.”

  That doesn’t seem to relax her the slightest bit. “Eva, you can’t trust demons.”

  “Well, I don’t really have a choice, do I?” I pause, trying to bite back the cruel words wanting to fall from my tongue. They slip out, anyway. “Besides, Max has been more honest with me than any of you have.” When she winces, I sigh. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”

  Her mouth
curves into a broken-hearted frown. “I know. And I’m so sorry for that.” She exhales loudly. “I’m going to make it up to you. From now on, I’ll tell you the truth, no matter what. But first, we need to save you, and in order to do that, I need you to try to help us figure out where you are.”

  “I already told you I have no idea. I just know I’m in a demon lair.”

  “How did you get to the demon lair?”

  “On a path.”

  “Eva, please,” she pleads, her body starting to fade. “I need you to think harder. Did you see anything that perhaps stood out? Like a sign, or a marker, or a mountain?”

  “I was blacked out for most of the journey,” I admit, picking at the hole in the hem of my shorts. “When I woke up, I was in a bed, in a cave, and there were a bunch of burns in my clothing.”

  “Burns in your clothes?” She pauses, deliberating. Then her eyes light up. “Oh, my God, you’re probably at Fire Mountain.”

  “Fire Mountain? What the hell is that? And why have I never heard of it?”

  “Because it’s demon territory, and people in Mystic Willow Bay rarely talk about demons.”

  “Unless they’re in that society, right?” My tone carries bitterness. When she winces, I feel sort of bad. “Sorry.”

  She shakes her head, her hair blowing into her eyes. “You have every right to be angry with us. I just hope, after some time, you can forgive us.”

  I remain quiet, unsure of what to say, mostly because part of me is still skeptical she’s telling the truth now. Perhaps she’s pretending to care about me so I’ll help her figure out where I am.

  What I really want to know is why they want to rescue me so badly? Is it because they care about me? Or is there more to it? And why did they go through all the trouble to protect me from the demons for all these years? Was it even about protecting me?

  So many unanswered questions.

  “I know you have questions,” Ryleigh says, as if reading my mind. “I promise we’ll talk more when I see you.”

  Her words remind me that I still need to save her once I get back to Mystic Willow Bay, which I plan on doing. Mad at her or not, I’m not going to let her stay dead.