CW: Swearing, Alcohol, Blood, Violence, & Death

*Some names have been changed due to spoilers*

Name: Raichel

Day/Time: Friday, 1:01 a.m.

Current state of mind: The usual—buzzed, bored, blah, blah, fucking blah

What are you wearing? Black jeans & a crimson, off the shoulder sweater

What are you listening to? Control by Halsey

What are you drinking? Bourbon (duh)

Where are you? Sunroom

A violent storm raged just outside my windows, its destructive fury matching my temper. I was ten seconds away from losing my shit—ten fucking seconds away from unleashing my magic at the demented ghost, who was busy destroying my home. If I could kill the shadowy asshole, I would. But it was already dead. And since resurrection with the intent to murder was a big no-no, I was left with only one other option. Eviction.

Magical energy crackled around me as I studied the banishing spell. I had everything I needed: ancient incantation, mirror, candles, and salt. I was good to go.

Lightning flashed, its fiery blaze illuminating the midnight sky. Thunder cracked. Glasses shattered, their crystal shards scattering across the polished hardwood. The spirit shrieked as it tore apart my bar, piece by fucking piece. I spun, glaring at the shadowy psycho. “Can you please shut the fuck up? I’m trying to focus.”

“On what?” Drew’s velvety timbre punched through the charged air.

I swung my gaze over to the archway as my new and delectably handsome roomie propped himself up against the opposite wall. Gods, he was gorgeous. With his short dark hair, chiseled features etched into sun-kissed skin, and tall, athletic frame clothed in all black, he was all sex, sin, and temptation. And I wanted nothing more than to take him for a spin. Or two.

But we were the definition of complicated, and I had a ghost to vanquish. Bummer.

“Banishing spell,” I replied. “I’m serving my ghosty an eviction notice.”

“All on your own?” Drew shoved off the glossy walnut paneling, his long denim-clad legs closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. “Without Holly or Ash?”

“Yeah,” I retorted. “I don’t need the ghost-busting brigade.”

“Riiiight. How could I forget? You don’t need anyone or anything. You can handle everything all by your lonesome.” Drew rolled his eyes as he came around to my side of the table. “Same song. Same dance. Different decade.” He spun my mother’s grimoire around, studying its weathered pages.

After a couple of long beats, he heaved out a sigh. “You need more power.”

“No. I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I’m powerful enough on my own.”

“No, you’re not.” His grim navy-blue gaze locked with mine. “Look, it’d be one thing if you were operating at full capacity—which you’re not—then maybe you’d have a shot. Maybe.” He shook his head. “But this spell is designed for two people. And with a spirit this strong and the veil thinning by the second, you’re gonna need more power, or you’re gonna fail your ass off.”

He had a point. The spell I’d performed four days ago had taken its toll, and my magic still hadn’t fully returned. But I wasn’t about to stroke his ego and hurt my pride all at the same time. Where was the fun in that?

But…

“Care to help a girl out?” I trailed my manicured nail up his arm, the leather of his biker jacket feeling supple and smooth beneath my touch. “You’re strong. Smart. Powerful. I’m sure you can handle a teensy banishing spell.”

“Nice try honey, but flattery doesn’t work on me.” Drew smirked, removing my hand from his arm. “Besides, I’m meeting up with an old friend tonight.” He checked his designer watch. “And I’m gonna be late. Call Holly. She’ll be happy to help.”

“Doubt that,” I snapped, snatching the grimoire away from him. “Have fun with your friend.”

Why was I so irritated? It’s not like I needed Drew or his stupid magic. I could handle the spell on my own. He didn’t owe me shit. Drew could do what he wanted, whenever he wanted with whomever he wanted—as long as he didn’t screw me over. I didn’t give a fuck about his extracurriculars. Really, I didn’t.

“Whatever.” Drew fished his keys out of his pocket as he made his way out of the study. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Drive safe, and remember, turn around, don’t drown,” I called after him. “Wouldn’t want you getting washed away on some flooded road.”

He flipped me off without a backwards glance.

As soon as Drew was out of sight, I cleared my mind, concentrating on the banishing spell. I focused my gaze on the ornate mirror and recited the ancient incantation, pouring my intentions into every single word.

The candles flared to life, their flames licking the ceiling as the lights flickered overhead. My magic permeated the air, its potent power filling the entire room. But nothing happened. My power wasn’t enough. The spirit was as stubborn as it was strong.

So, I channeled the storm, using its energy to fuel my magic. A fierce wind ripped through the study, knocking over lamps and furniture. The books flew off their shelves as a thunderous roar tore through the room, but I ignored the chaos.

“Raichel!” Drew’s shout sounded miles away. “Stop!”

I didn’t know why he was back. And I didn’t care. I needed to finish the spell. I was so close. Just one more little magical push and —

Boom!

The mirror exploded, a swirling vortex of water and wind replaced the missing glass. Its magnetic force swept me off my feet as my body lurched towards the magical portal.

“Hang on!” Drew gripped my arm and yanked me backwards, caging me in his protective embrace. He was strong. But not strong enough. The wind howled, sucking us into the violent vortex, spinning us around and around, and finally spitting us out like we were nothing more than stale gum.

We landed in a heap with Drew’s back taking the brunt of the impact, a cloud of dust and dirt billowing up from the scuffed floor. The heat from his muscled frame seared into me, his intoxicating scent of leather and musky spice enveloping me in a comforting warmth. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to leave his arms, but I couldn’t keep using him as my mattress. And wasn’t that a shame?

I eased myself up onto my feet, groaning as my sore muscles protested the vertical routine. A bitter breeze snaked around my ankles, transforming into a thick, leathery mist as it slithered up my legs, curling up over my hips and chest. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak as its icy scales coiled around my neck with a distorted hiss.

The phantom serpent squeezed my windpipe, making breathing a chore. Fire coursed through my blood, its power setting my flesh on fire. Flames danced on my skin, flaring with excitement as the snake shrieked, blowing apart at its seams.

“What the fuck?” Drew drilled his navy-blues into mine, his expression completely and utterly flummoxed. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“What?” I glared up at him. “Was I supposed to let that stupid snake strangle me to death?”

“What snake?”

“You didn’t see that?”

“See what?” Drew’s brows shot up. “The only thing I saw was you barbecuing yourself.”

“Because I was trying to stop that phantom serpent thingy from trying to kill me. Do you seriously think I’d set myself on fire for shits and giggles?”

“Okay.” Drew scrubbed a hand over the thick stubble shading his jaw. “I believe you. Just give me a minute to think.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Take your time,” I muttered. “Not like we don’t have to get home or anything.”

He scowled, daggering his sharp gaze into mine. If looks could kill…

“Sorry,” I mumbled. This wasn’t Drew’s fault. He didn’t hijack my spell, didn’t send us to some shithole in gods knew where. He was just trying to help, and the last thing I wanted was to make an enemy out of him. I had plenty of those already.

Lightning strobed just beyond the arched windows, its brilliant flashes illuminating our temporary prison cell—which resembled a dilapidated living room of sorts. Not that there was much to the abandoned living space. The four decaying walls housed one shabby leather sofa, a broken crystal chandelier, a stone fireplace, and a grandfather clock.

There were no doors. No hallways or exits leading out of the dump. And most importantly, there wasn’t a single mirror, which we needed for our portal out of this miserable shithole. But we could improvise. It would take some magical finesse, but we could conjure one up.

I turned to Drew, but he was nowhere to be found.

What the hell? Where did he go?

“Drew.” I spun in a slow circle. “Drew!” I repeated, lacing my voice with magic as I called out his name. My power should’ve reached him, but I got nothing. Just silence. And it didn’t make any sense. People didn’t just vanish—they didn’t just poof out of existence—especially powerful ones like Drew. This was a trick. It had to be.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

What the hell was that? A flitting movement on the far wall caught the corner of my eye.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The walls pulsed—bowing in and out, in and out—beating steadily like a heart. Rivulets of blood pooled on the tattered wallpaper, oozing down onto the floor, the crimson streams ponding beneath my boots. A thick fog rolled in, sweeping up over the room, its smoky mist obscuring my vision and blocking out any light.

Cold dread flooded my veins as malevolent magic pervaded the oppressive air, its putrid scent assaulting my senses. Waves of nausea crashed over me, bitter bile coating my throat. I swallowed hard, suppressing the fear and trepidation that threatened to engulf me. This thing wanted me scared. It wanted to intimidate me. Terrorize me.

And it could fuck all the way off.

I shoved my unease down, channeling the one emotion that would save me. Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. “Is that all you’ve got?” I shouted. “Bleeding walls and smelly fog? Oooh, I’m soooo scared. I’m shaking in my designer heels.”

A skeletal hand grabbed my throat, its bony fingers biting into my skin. I froze as it gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth wide open. A tangy, metallic liquid hit my lips, sliding down my throat faster than I could swallow. I coughed, choking on the viscous blood as I struggled against the psychopath’s hold. But I couldn’t break out of its clutches. It was strong. But so was I.

Channeling my powers, I pushed past the spirit’s steel hold, seizing the bony wrist and crushing it in my grip. Filmy white eyes flashed to mine, a familiar face emerging from the depths of the smoky shadows. Her red, rotting lips twisted up in a sinister smile just as she faded off into the receding mist.

I blinked, coming eye-to-eye with the stitching of Drew’s leather jacket. Craning my neck, I met his concerned expression and tossed my arms around his neck. I didn’t know why I hugged him. I didn’t know why I felt this overwhelming need to burrow my head into his shoulder and just stay there in his arms. But I knew it felt good. Too good.

“Raich?” Drew pulled back a bit, a frown marring his features. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I shook myself. “Just cold,” I replied, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Care to tell me what happened?”

“My ghosty fed me fake blood,” I blurted. “But I know who she is.”

“What?” His brows dipped low. “Who?”

“Stella Carmichael. She was a friend, and she died ten years ago this day.”

The grandfather clock gonged like I just answered some trivia question correctly. The walls rattled, splitting in two as a wide hallway materialized between the two weathered halves. “That’s a trap,” I muttered.

“Yup. And it’s our ticket to freedom.”

“Or we could just conjure up a mirror and go home.”

“And then what?” Drew cupped my cheek. His  touch felt absolutely invigorating as his magic seeped into my skin. “What are you gonna do when Stella comes back? She got past your warding once and now that she has a foothold, she’ll do it again. You really want another replay of this night or do you want to be free of her? For good.” Drew’s deep timbre sounded low in my head.

“The latter,” I replied, hating the fact that we were walking right into her diabolical trap. “We’re playing into her game. You know that, right?”

 “Nah. It’s our game now.” He winked, squeezing my hand.

Gods, I loved his mind. I smiled. “Game on.”

“Let’s go kick your ghost’s ass and get the fuck out of here.” Drew shifted his grip, clasping my right hand in his. “You ready?”

I nodded.

“Tell me about Stella.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked as we veered out into the hall, walking hand-in-hand like we were taking a Sunday stroll through the park.

“How did she die?”

“Long story short, we got kidnapped by demons. We were so fucking drunk that we never sensed the attack. One minute we were leaving the bar, the next we were locked up in some dark and dank cellar.”

We rounded the corner, making our way into what looked like a foyer. But just like the living room, it was nothing more than a box with no exit. “Tell me more about that night,” Drew said.

“Why? What’s the point?”

“You reveal the truth, the house reveals itself,” Drew replied. “Keep talking.”

“Fine.” I blew out a long-winded breath. “They tortured us. Our…” I swallowed past the hard lump in my throat. “Our injuries were critical, but Stella was worse for wear. She was on the brink of death. I could feel it, could sense the reapers nearby. She had minutes left. Maybe seconds. I don’t know.”

The grandfather clocked chimed again, its loud gongs resounding off the walls as a winding staircase materialized over to our left. We ascended the stairs, the carpeted wood creaking beneath our feet.

“You got out,” Drew’s tone was void of judgment as we hit the landing, finding nothing but a narrow tunnel void of any doors. He turned towards me, his expression impassive as he studied me. “How?”

Gods, I did not want to talk about this, did not want to relive any part of that night. But I didn’t have much of a choice. It was time to confront my demons—ones that I had buried and left for dead long ago.

I licked my cracked lips. “I still had a little magic left, and I used it. I freed myself and fought like hell. Took on three demons all on my own, and I barely survived. Hell, I didn’t even make it off the front porch.” I looked up at Drew. “If Casey hadn’t found me when he did, I’d be dead.”

A door creaked open, golden light streaming from the wide crevice at the end of the hall. Drew and I traded glances. And just as I stepped forward, he pulled me to a stop. “You didn’t kill her.” He gave my hand another gentle squeeze.

“I know,” I replied. “Tell that to her.”

“You tell her.”

We strode down the hall, marching straight into Stella’s trap—which was nothing more than a barren bedroom, but at least the electricity was working. The door slammed shut behind us, the lock clicking into place.

Stella floated in the center of the room, sandwiched between two hulking demons—who were both salivating at the mouth. Her long silvery blonde hair was a blood-stained disheveled mess as it swirled around her ashen face. Her skin was cracked, scarlet lipstick smeared, and black mascara streaked down her cheeks.

“Wow.” I raised my brows. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks to you!” She screeched, flinging her arm out just as the demons lunged at Drew.

A blast of magic socked me in the gut, rocking me off my feet. My body flew backwards, hitting the wall. Hard. Glowing green vines emerged from the chipped plaster, roping themselves around my wrists. Razor-sharp thorns pierced my skin, subduing my magic.

Bitch.

“Magical bindings?” I laughed. “Are you seriously that scared of me? Can’t take me on in a fair fight, so you have to cheat? So pathetic and weak.”

“You let me die!” Stella’s nails elongated, transforming into black claws. She raked her talons down my abdomen, tearing through my sweater. Blood pooled beneath the cashmere as a searing pain ripped through me. She got in my face. “You left me behind.”

“You would’ve done the same thing,” I snarled. “Let’s not act like you’re some virtuous pillar of morality.” I struggled against the bindings, but my efforts were fruitless. “My escape was our only chance of survival. If I could’ve saved you, I would’ve. But I wasn’t strong enough. It’s not my fault you died. I didn’t kill you.”

She paused. “Bring me back.”

“No.” I wasn’t surprised by her request, but I wasn’t gonna fulfill it. There were certain lines I refused to cross, and resurrection was one of them.

“Fine.” She dragged her claws down my torso. Again. “I’ll do it myself. Maybe I’ll even swap places with you.”

I gritted my teeth, hissing through the agonizing pain. My magic swelled in my veins, demanding to be released, but it had nowhere to go. Beads of sweat dotted my forehead as I glowered at her. “Newsflash, pumpkin. You need a witch for that. Willing and living. Unfortunately for you, there’s no one here that fits that job description.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

An ear-splitting whistle pierced the air. Drew stood off to the side, holding some preppy-looking frat boy in a chokehold. “Friend of yours?”

Stella whirled around, turning her full attention on Drew.

“Found him in the closet.” Drew’s tone was cold. Hard. Void of any emotion, just like his expression. Malice radiated off him in venomous waves. “I’m guessing he’s your witch. He might be willing. But definitely not living.”

The frat boy’s heart exploded out of his chest, and Drew tossed the body aside, discarding the dead witch like trash. Stella launched herself at Drew, but he countered her attack, incapacitating her with a potent blast of mystical energy.

The vines vanished from my wrists, my magic breaking free of its chains. My knees buckled, but Drew caught me before I hit the ground. His power flowed through me, giving me the strength I needed to give Stella a proper sendoff.

“You ready?” Drew asked, clasping my hands as magic—intense and electric—surged through me, lighting me up like a live wire as the two of us trapped Stella in our magical circle.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

We recited the ancient banishing spell, lacing our words with power and intent. A brisk wind tore through the room, howling along with Stella’s screams as her ethereal form blew apart, becoming nothing more than dust in the wind.

I sagged against Drew just as the floor disappeared beneath us. I clung to him as we spun through the turbulent air until the mystical vortex dispersed and spit us out. We hit the ground hard, with Drew taking the brunt of the impact. Again.

I lifted my head, noting the familiar surroundings of my demolished study. Damn. It was good to be home.

Two Nights Later

“Beer?” Drew sauntered into the sunroom, carrying two bottles of espresso porter in his hands.

I smiled, admiring the way his sculpted body looked in the black, low-slung jeans and matching cashmere sweater. “Like you have to ask,” I replied.

Drew handed me the frosty bottle and sank down onto the plush sofa. “How you feeling?”

“Better.” I took a sip of my beer, savoring the taste of roasted coffee and dark chocolate as the flavors melded on my tongue. “I’m pretty much all healed up.”

“Good.”

Silence filled the space between us as we watched the flames crackling and popping away in the stone hearth. Flurries danced around in the air just outside the glass panes that encompassed the entire room, including the ceiling.

It was my favorite place—the one room where I could experience the snowy weather without freezing my ass off. And as my thoughts ping-ponged all over the place, I knew I was avoiding a conversation I was too scared to have.

I didn’t understand why Drew came back that night, or why he helped me while we were stuck in the Otherworld. Given our complicated history, I thought he would’ve left me. But he didn’t. And I didn’t know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all. But I never thanked him. And as much as I hated relying on other people, I knew I would’ve never survived if he hadn’t been there.

“So…” I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”

Drew arched his brow. “For what?”

“For coming back the other night and helping me with my ghost problem,” I replied. A part of me wanted to know more about his motives, but another part—a bigger part—preferred to stay in the dark. At least for now.

“You’re welcome.” He stretched his legs out onto the ottoman as my cat hopped up onto his lap. Ivy purred, curling up against him as he stroked her silky, black fur. “Feel like watching something?”

“Yeah.” I shivered.  Fuck. I’d forgotten to grab a blanket.

“Cold?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He slung his arm over my shoulder, tucking me against his side. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmm.” I nuzzled my head against his chest, basking in his warmth. “How about Interview with the Vampire?”

“Movie or show?”

“Show.”

“Good choice.” Drew hit play on the remote and dimmed the lights.

I wasn’t a seer, but at that moment, I got a glimpse of my possible future. A future that included Drew and Ivy, the three of us spending our nights together, relaxing by the fire. And as much as I hated admitting it, I kind of liked the idea.

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