Page 3 of How to Flirt with a Witch

Wait, where did that come from? Weren’t all my books on my desk a second ago?

I stare at it, mentally fumbling all the strange stuff that’s been happening, trying to connect them into a reasonable explanation.

Before I can reach any conclusion that isn’t “my brain is broken,” a gust of wind and a flapping sound pulls my attention.

I gasp.

A crow has flown through the window and is circling my room in a panic. It hits the walls in the tiny space, cawing. Wind whistles in and sends a draft through the room, lifting papers from my desk. Loose pages and feathers float like confetti, raining down in a chaotic mess.

What—is—happening?

“Why did you leave the window open?” Hazel shouts.

“I didn’t!” In pain everywhere, I lunge for the fleece blanket. “Hazel, Iswearit was closed. There’s something weird going on. I think I’m losing my mind.”

This infection—it’s got to be making me hallucinate. Objects moving on their own, a crow in my room, my kitten trying to commit murder… this can’t all be real.

But the stabbing pain all over is real enough. Same with Hazel’s screaming.

While the crow continues in frantic circles, Lucy scampers over the bed and up the wall like a squirrel, her claws gripping the drywall.

“She’s going to crawl across the ceiling!” I cry.

“Oh, God, it’s likeThe Exorcist!” Hazel shouts.

I bat away the crow. “I don’t think there’s any ceiling crawling inThe Exorcist!”

“Well, I don’t know, I haven’t seen it!”

My potted aloe plant hits the carpet, dirt spilling.

“Yes, you have! Remember in—”

“Shut up and trap her before she escapes!” Hazel yells.

Point taken. I crawl onto the bed, hurl myself at the wall, and trap Lucy beneath the fleece blanket before she gets to the ceiling.

She yowls louder than ever, thrashing. I bring my hands together to keep her inside the blanket, falling sideways.

Hazel screams as I roll across the duvet, holding Lucy to my chest, and hit the floor. Panicked sobs escape my lips as I crawl for the kennel.

“Hold her tight!” Hazel cries.

I drag the kennel closer and stuff the bundle inside. Sucking in rattling breaths, I swing the door shut. Victory surges in my chest. “She’s in—”

There’s a crash, and I flinch. The floating shelf with all my pictures has fallen off the wall. I stay focused, pinching the latch to lock it.

Lucy frees herself from the blanket and lunges at the metal grate. Her fuzzy little arms stick through, claws out, trying to destroy my fingers. The purple glint in her eyes is brighter than ever, a flame roaring to life.

I yank my hands away and slump back, gulping down air and coughing. The crow is still circling, cawing loudly—but I can deal with that in a second. The more important problem is contained.

“I did it!” My room might be in shambles, but relief floods through me, leaving me light and shaky.

“Yes!” On my laptop, Hazel jumps up and down, pumping her fist.

Lucy is the only one not celebrating. “Mrawwwrrrr…”

The kennel shakes as she throws herself at the sides, hissingand spitting.