Page 20 of How to Flirt with a Witch

“Stay there,” I say, a nervous tremor in my voice.

I light all three candles I own, which helps cut the darkness, then take Rebecca The Creeptastic Doll out of the bag and put her on my bed. Her glassy stare bores into me, the candlelight glinting off her face and making each flaw look like an open wound.

From her scratching post, Not-Lucy stands up, arches her back, and hisses.

Her reaction makes my heart jump.

“You feel it too, huh?” I murmur.

As I look at Not-Lucy, something happens in the corner of my eye—the doll shifts.

I gasp and leap back, throwing my hands up in defense.

But when I look at the doll, nothing’s changed.

I blink, waiting, keeping my fists up. Nothing happens. The candlelight flickers over her chipped face and dress.

I tear my gaze from her, my heart thudding. There it is again—the shift.

My breath catches, but I force myself to keep my eyes on Not-Lucy. The effect is only in my periphery. It’s like when you’re in a dark bathroom and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, and there’s a half a second when you think it’s a ghost or a murderer.

In the edge of my vision, the doll’s eyes gleam red. Her mouth is open in a silent scream of rage. Her dress is black and tattered, and her little white shoes have morphed into crow feet.

I flick my gaze to her again. Blue eyes and a frilly purple dress.

And then away. A demon in my periphery.

My face tingles as unease settles over me.

Okay, I’mreallygoing to need Natalie to call me back.

My phone makes a noise, and I lunge for it before the sound registers. It’s not ringing—it’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

“God dammit!” With a trembling finger, I smash the pause button.

Should I grab a weapon in case this doll decides to pull a Lucy and go rabid on me?

I sidle over to my desk and yank open the drawer. Even a pair of scissors is better than nothing.

But where my scissors should be, a long, hairy leg pokes out from the depths of the drawer.

I freeze.

Another leg extends, and sick horror wells inside me as an engorged body appears.

I leap back, a blood-curdling shriek tearing from my throat as a spider as big as Not-Lucy scuttles out.

“Ew, ew, ew!” I jump onto the bed, curling my legs under me. I don’t know if it’s a tarantula or a wolf spider or something else, but it’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

It reaches the corner behind my door and stops, two legs on the wall, the rest on the carpet.

Panicked breaths escaping, I lean over and grab Not-Lucy from her scratching post, hugging her close. Do spiders eat kittens?

My phone rings for real, and I scramble to answer. “Hello?”

“You adopted another one?” Natalie shouts.

Though she’s yelling, the relief at hearing her voice is so great that I sink onto the bed,my shoulders slumping.