Page 23 of How to Flirt with a Witch

Wait. The huge one in the corner… It’s gone. And there’s something on my pant leg.

I look down to see the monster spider from earlier scuttling up my jeans. A scream tears from my lips, fear clouding my head so all I can do is kick and thrash.

Somehow, amid my tap dancing, I slap it back to the floor. In the millisecond that its spindly legs and soft body touch my palm, the heebie-jeebies rocket through me.

“Katie!” Natalie grits out.

Right, the hawk!

With a roar, I grab it again, pull it away from her, and throw it at the window before it can sink its sharp beak into me. It lands on the windowsill with the agility of a cat landing on its feet.

Natalie stumbles, her wrist bleeding freely. “Hold it off!” she shouts over the blaring music.

The hawk takes flight in the bedroom, and I wave my arms to keep it away from her, crushing spiders beneath my moccasins with every step.

This is so out of hand. I’ve unleashed an arachnid infestation on the cityandwe’re both going to die from a rabid bird attack.

I look back at Natalie—and freeze, my brain derailing as I try to process what I’m seeing. Her palm hovers over the vial, and the amber contents have risen out of it, morphing in the air like an amoeba. It’s not a liquid, more like the slime my sisters and I used to make as kids. And it’sfloating.

A thud pulls my attention. A candle on my desk has fallen to the floor, the carpet smoldering.

“Shit!” I grab the nearest container of water—my diffuser—and dump it on the smoke before anything catches fire.

I’ve unleashed an arachnid infestationandwe’re going to dieandthe house is going to burn down.

The was-a-doll throbs, pulsing like a black heart at the center of the chaos. Pictures fall off shelves. My lamp hits the floor. Gasping for air, I seize a textbook from my desk for self-defense and send the whole pile crashing down.

“Hurry!” I cry, praying that whatever amber substance Natalie unleashed from that vial is enough to stop all this.

The goo hits the was-a-doll with a wetslap, warping and stretching until it engulfs it.

The song crescendos, and I bellow over Bonnie Tyler’s voice, swinging at the hawk before it can bite my face.

The goo-covered was-a-doll sizzles and spits, steam rising. A scent like burnt sugar curls in my nostrils.

Ohmygod ohmygod…

The hawk circles. Spiders scuttle. We gulp down air, Natalie on all fours on my bed, me frozen in place with the textbook raised.

I drop the textbook and step closer, but she puts a hand out. “Stay there.”

“Is it…?” I trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Dead? Deactivated?

From the kitchen, the microwave beeps, the fridge hums, and ambient light brightens the room by a fraction. The power is back on. My bedroom light remains off, the candles dancing as if in a high wind.

A spark comes from the shimmering amber goo-covered was-a-doll, snagging my attention.Zap. Zap.

“Cover your ears!” Natalie shouts, launching off the bed.

She throws herself at me, smothering me with her body and pinning me against the wall as an explosion rattles the bedroom.

Chapter 7

A Bit of a Mess

Natalie wraps me ina protective cocoon against the wall as the explosion rips through the room. Her body, warm and solid, presses into mine. Her absurdly soft skin brushes my temple, and her forearms bracket my head as she covers her ears.

The blast rattles my bones, sending wisps of torn bed linens into the air.