Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Stop! I’m not the Queen of Hell. It was a temporary declaration made out of desperation.
I don’t want to rule Hell.
“My love,” Lucas begins, dark blue eyes holding back all the emotion he’s trying to repress. “Frau Pertcha slices open her victims’ stomachs.” I close my fist, putting out the flame as Lucas comes over. He rests his hand on my abdomen, which is looking more like a tiny baby bump thanks to the dozen or so cookies I ate. “I don’t want to take even the slightest risk. You are staying home. I will go to the high school and will handle things.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.” Lucas cups my face with his large hands. “I will rip her still-beating heart out of her chest with my bare hands before I let her ruin Christmas for you.”
I blink back tears. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He kisses me and steps back, eyeing the rest of my friends. “Let’s go kill this bitch.”
I bring my hands together, molding the snow into a ball. Scarlet prances in the yard, still enthralled by the snow. I throw the snowball and she chases after it. Laughing, I make another snowball. Never in my life did I think I’d be throwing snowballs for my hellhound to play with. Using magic, I send this ball farther into the yard. Wiping my cold, wet hands on my pants, I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time—again.
Sitting on the sidelines isn’t my thing. I don’t do well hanging back, letting someone else put their life at risk. Lucas assured me over and over that even if Frau Pertcha did catch him, he wouldn’t die from being slit open and filled with rocks. Hearing him say it out loud didn’t offer the reassurance he hoped it would. He’s with Evander and Ruby, who are advanced in their magical defense, and Kristy is tracking the dark energy following the demon. Binx is with them, and Freya and Pandora, who were still patrolling downtown, will join.
They have a plan. They’ll be smart. They’ll be okay.
But that doesn’t mean I can just kick my feet back and relax. Inhaling cold air, I look around the yard, trying to take solace in the way the Christmas lights strung up on the house look against the thin blanket of snow. My life is as perfect as it is chaotic. One hand goes to my stomach and I let my eyes fall shut, envisioning next year’s Christmas. Lucas and I will have a baby—and there will be no demons.
Scarlet barks, startling me. I open my eyes just in time to see something trigger my warding. Eyes widening, I hold out my hand and summon a ball of blue energy. Breath clouding around me, I go down the porch steps. Fresh snow crunches under my boots and I narrow my eyes, trying to find Scarlet. With her collar on, she’s only a strong as a regular dog.
“Fuck.” I quicken my pace, heading toward the woods. The warding is triggered again by whatever is trying to cross it. And then Scarlet yelps. I break into a sprint, not stopping until I’m in the woods.
“Scarlet!” I call, tossing up the energy ball to illuminate my surroundings. I can see her paw prints in the snow, then the obvious signs of a scuffle.
Something moves behind me and I whirl around, coming face to face with Frau Pertcha. Dirty gray hair hangs in clumps around her face, and two gnarled horns stick up from her forehead. She’s wearing an emerald-green dress, stained with blood and chunks of dried intestines. Breath rattling, she inches forward, tipping her head as she looks at me.
“They weren’t kidding when they said you look homeless,” I retort and throw the energy ball right in the center of her chest. It sizzles through her, but instead of burning her, she absorbs the energy.
Oh shit.
“Of course you have to be difficult,” I huff and throw out my hands, telekinetically shoving her backward. It’s not the first time a demon fed off magical energy, though only higher-level demons can benefit from it, which means this bitch is more dangerous than we thought.
Hissing, Pertcha pulls a long blade from the handle of her crooked cane. “Half breed,” she snarls in a raspy voice and I roll my eyes.
“Come up with an original insult, why don’t you?” I hold my hand up. “But while we’re being cliche and predictable, I can say you’ve picked the wrong girl. I have plenty of Christmas cheer.”
“Tell me how it feels to lie down every night next to your dead lover,” she growls. “You broke the rule of your coven. You put your high priestess at risk covering your disgusting love affair.”
I give her another shove, but she hardly moves this time.