Page 161 of How to Flirt with a Witch

We watch, helpless, as the Madsens peel away in the stolen vehicle.

“We have to find him! Like,immediately,” Sky says, her voice high.

“I know,” Natalie says, clutching her side.

Around us, witches fight tirelessly to keep civilians safe, and it’s working—there are no bodies on the ground, no injuries to tend to other than our own. They’re upholding their oath to protect the non-magical public even in the midst of pandemonium. The hippopotamus transforms into a seagull and takes flight, rising above the buildings and retreating over the ocean. The bull shifts into a rat, scurrying into a storm drain. A trickle of relief dares to course through me.

Then, a shriek fills the world like nothing I’ve ever heard. I snap my gaze toward the sound, looking skyward.

The Harbour Centre building is across the intersection, its round lookout tower visible from here—and a strange feeling overcomes me as my brain fights to comprehend what I’m seeing.

Hazel and I were just there this morning, gazing over the peaceful city, giddy about spending the summer together. Now, a massive creature clings to the lookout tower, its wings wrapped around the circular structure, its claws shattering windows and sending large chunks of rubble crashing to the street below.

“By the way,” Natalie says, still clutching her side, “I can finally answer your question.”

I stare blankly at her as I staunch the wound on my leg. “What question?”

She points at the thing clinging to the Harbor Centre. “That,” she says, “is Lucy.”

I straighten up, my jaw unhinging.

Lucy.My precious kitten. Feral magic, a shapeshifting monster beyond my worst nightmares. And she’s in the process of destroying downtown Vancouver.

She soars overhead, her wings blotting out the sun, and the name for this sort of creature hovers just out of reach. It’s like someone smooshed together an eagle and a lion and called it nightmare fuel.

Numb, I trace my gaze over her beak and wings, down her mane, to the talons on her front legs, and to her large paws.

There’s a smudge on her left back paw.

The griffin—Lucy—opens her beak, and a deafening roar fills the air, raising the hairs on my arms and sending a tremor through my bones. She swoops down, and every witch in the street dives out of the way, sprawling flat on the ground.

Lucy lands on the steam clock, making it look puny. Her talons click against its face as she scrambles for grip.

The historic clock cracks beneath her monstrous weight, crumbling. She sinks her beak into the whistles on top, and with a final groan, the clock gives way, its gears shattering to pieces over the brick sidewalk.

Seeing Lucy in this form—hertrueform—reminds me that there is still so much I don’t understand about magic. “So, this is what you meant when you said she wasn’t a cat,” I say, barely a whisper.

Lucy turns her feathery head—and I swear to God she looks right at me. For a moment, she doesn’t move, a gleam in her purple eyes. A shiver rolls down to my toes.

Then she aims her beak skyward and stretches out her wings, taking flight once more.

I meet Natalie’s eye in numb surprise. She must know what I’m thinking because she grimaces.

The Madsens might have driven away without capturing bio magic, but we’ve set an unparalleled force loose on the world.

We have a big mess to clean up.

Chapter 39

New Promises and Old-Fashioned Threats

As the last chimeratakes flight, its wings casting a shadow over the devastation that was once Gastown, the piercing wail of sirens fills the air. Witches, injured and smeared with dirt, vanish into the ground beneath the crumbled remains of the steam clock.

My eyes prickle as I take in the city I’ve come to call home—the ruined storefronts with shattered windows, broken bricks and cobblestones, toppled structures… Not to mention the people who had to flee in terror. My heart clenches, guilt gnawing at my insides like a hungry rat.

A black car navigates the disaster, coming to a stop in front of us. The window rolls down, and it hits me that I’m looking at Natalie’s car. Hazel’s behind the wheel with Ethel’s kennel riding shotgun.

“I… packed up as much as I could from your place…” Hazel says weakly, her eyes wide with shock as she takes in the apocalyptic surroundings.