Page 5

The witch had the audacity to raise a brow at her. Like finding a witch in vampire territory was perfectly normal and perhaps it washerreacting incorrectly.

“Yeah, I had a feeling you’d make a scene.” He leaned out the door, checking if Esther had exited before turning back to Ashley. “Listen, how about you leave her alone and we’ll forget we saw each other?”

He backed slowly out the door and turned in the opposite direction of Esther’s exit.

Ashley knew she should pretend this hadn’t happened and continue on her way as though someone with the ability to ruin her life—someone who instinctively knew what she was, and was apparently close with her newest project partner—wasn’t out there bending the rules.

She stood in the classroom doorway listening to the shush of the main entrance closing behind Esther and their romantic comedy in one direction and the brisk step of retreating witch feet in the other.

Go home and pretend this didn’t happen—or makesurenothing happened.

This year—the year she’d finally succeed and join the Family—was meant to be more Dawson’s Creek and less Buffy. She couldn’t just go around as the heroic blond destroying paranormal bad guys. That should have been rule number one, now that she thought about it—no destroying. She’d add it later. But this witch didn’t have to know that. She could run in, huffing and puffing, and scare him off.

After all, she was a vampire.

Scary was their thing. Being scary and sexy. Or so sexy it’s scary. She smirked before remembering she was in the middle of something important. Right.

Ashley took off, following the hall deeper into the building. The lingering trail of his magic bubbled in her throat as she passed rows of empty classrooms, listening. Her ankle boots clipped against the tiled hallway. A bat squeaked and fluttered around the insect-laden streetlight by the western entrance, and…a lone heart beat in a lab to the right. She took the corner, following thethud thudto the second door. Her hand stilled over the doorknob.

This had better be her year.

She turned the knob and flashed inside. Her face smacked into something cold and slimy and stinking of formaldehyde.

It dropped to the floor in front of her with a wet smack.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t take thelet’s part ways amiablyplan,” he said, “so if you’ll give me a second to explain.”

Ashley bent in half and dry heaved over the crumpled carcass on the floor. A dead frog. The damn witch had levitated a dead frog knowing she would run into it. Oh god, she still felt it on her face. Was her mouth open? She tasted its salty chemical-soaked skin on her tongue. She needed a hot shower and toothbrush, stat.

The witch stood by the far window silhouetted by a streetlamp. “Long story short, she’s my aunt, so there’s this sort of general agreement.”

“The frog?” Ashley looked down at the sad, disgusting creature. Witches were gross. It made sense they were related to frogs.

“Not the frog.” The witch scoffed. “Were you even listening to me?”

She checked her top, making sure frog goo hadn’t ruined it as well. There, at the right shoulder, was a pea-sized wet spot that would forever stink of dead frog and embalming fluids. “This was one of my favorite tops!”

Screw Dawson’s Creek.

Buffy was back on the table.

Two rows of sturdy and sterilized lab desks separated them. Not enough to stop her. Her fangs dropped from her gumline as she stepped toward him.

He muttered something, and a sick sucking sound drew her attention to the side.

The frog squelched, limb by limb, off the floor and back into the air.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she growled. “I can have you in the lake with the rest of the frogs before you take your next breath.”

She took another step.

“Hannah!” The witch’s hands shot out in front of him like he was calming a wild animal but dropped the frog back to the floor. “Hannah Comstock.”

That stopped her. “How do you know Hannah?”

“Like I was saying, she’s my aunt.”

Ashley burst out laughing, gripping her side and forgetting about the frog on the floor as she nearly fell over with this ridiculous claim. The laugh surprised her almost as much asthe witch’s comment. The witch thought Hannah, head of the Plattsburgh vampire Family, was his aunt.