Page 147 of How to Flirt with a Witch

I try to fit the pieces together. “How does he find out about all the new curse locations if he’s imprisoned?”

Slowly, Freddie’s lips curl into a grin. “Nat is in close contact with her dad. It’s sweet. Texts him to tell him every detail.”

My heart plummets into my feet. My chest constricts, panic closing in.Natalie’s dad?

No, it can’t be. He’s traveling.

Or, hewas.

“Y-you’ve been forcing him to feed you intel?” I stammer, my mouth dry.

“No, no, it was much easier just to take his phone. I’ve been the one texting Nat back for the last few months, pretending to be Daddy.”

I grip the katana tighter, trembling with barely contained rage.Natalie’sunknowingly been the one leaking information to the Madsens?She’show they’re finding out about the locations of new curses?

White-hot anger courses through me.

“I already knew I wanted to kill you,” I snarl. “This only makes me want it even more.”

Freddie sighs, disappointment flickering across his face. Calmly, almost inaudibly, he murmurs, “Finish her, Wyatt.”

The dog lunges, and I swing the sword. “Get back!”

My pulse picks up. Freddie wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d given me enough chances. He’s done going easy on me.

Wyatt crouches, threatening to pounce but not so reckless as to lunge at someone brandishing a sword. He stalks back and forth, holding my gaze, waiting for me to show weakness so he can get past the blade.

“Freddie, Ireallydon’t want to have to hurt a dog,” I say with a tremor in my voice.

Wyatt snarls.

Freddie laughs, stepping sideways, positioning himself to swoop in. “He says he has no qualms with hurting you.”

I edge around the cluttered wooden table, my heart pounding out of my chest. I’ve got one idea, and if it doesn’t work, I’m a goner.

I lower the sword, making myself vulnerable—and Wyatt wastes no time. He leaps onto the table to get at me, and I duck beneath it, rolling to the other side. He barks and snaps. Claws scramble over my head. The typewriter hits the floor with a heavy thud, the tiki torch clattering after it.

I straighten up as the dog lands where I was standing. With a roar, I grab the edge of the table and flip it over.

The table pins him to the floor, everything else falling around him. He barks furiously, nails scratching stone as he tries to get out from under the pile.

An arm wraps around my neck, pulling me back. “Good effort,” Freddie hisses in my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “But you’re going to wish you just let Wyatt tear you apart.”

I choke from the pressure, swinging the sword backward at him. But my movements are frantic, uncoordinated, and he grabs my wrist easily and squeezes until I’m forced to open my fingers and drop it. The pressure rises into my head. My lungs beg for air.

“I should’ve killed you in the graveyard,” he growls. “I was too soft—hoping you’d see you’ve been fighting for the wrong side. But you’re just as brainwashed as the rest of them. Why should an ordinary guy like me have the right to magic, eh?”

A small part of me wants to reason with him, wants him to know it’s not like that. It’s so much more complicated. But my throat is too crushed to speak, and even if I could, he’d never listen.

My head swims.Air. Need air.

In the distance, footsteps echo off the walls. “Katie!”

Relief jolts through my chest at the sound of Natalie’s voice.

I buckle my knees and let my weight drop, driving my fist as hard as I can into Freddie’s groin. The gauntlet slams into him, and he makes apitiful whimper and curls in on himself. His grip loosens enough that I can duck out of the crook of his elbow.

I gasp for breath and try to shout for Natalie. I can’t make a sound—can’t do anything but cough.