Born Under a Bad Sign: A Slow Burn Urban Fantasy Romance (Mixed Signals Book 1) by Rachel Rawlings

Author:Rachel Rawlings [Rawlings, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-31T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“After you.” I motioned for Viola to lead the way up the stairwell to my apartment.

I shrugged off the odd look from the woman pushing one of those three wheel oversized strollers as she jogged past me and marched up the steps behind my new roommate.

Between the loveseat that occupied most of my living room and my collection of spellbooks, there was barely enough room in my apartment for one person.

Never mind an unruly spirit.

Still, it wasn’t like I’d had a lot of options. I needed to keep tabs on her, and David scratched the bookstore off my list of possibilities.

There was only one place left to take her—with me.

“Home sweet home.” I dropped my bag by the door and tossed my keys on the kitchen counter.

“You call this a home?” Viola wafted along the ceiling as she cast judgment on the accommodations.

“Listen if it’s not up to your standards, I’m sure I could find a nice cemetery for you to haunt or something.” I grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the faucet.

“Well, when you put it that way…” Viola’s laugh sounded like a violin in the hands of a three-year-old. “I absolutely love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Were you always such a joy to be around?” I gulped the water down and refilled my glass. “Did you ever consider being a bitch, not a witch, is what put that noose around your neck?”

“I like you, Sister Alden.” She swooped down from the kitchen ceiling and into the bedroom. “I’m going to enjoy staying with you.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.” I downed the glass of water and followed her into my room “The plan is to send you back where you came from.”

Just as soon as I find the right spell.

Viola’s vocabulary was a hodgepodge of past and present. A result of too many curious teenagers with spirit boards. Her words, not mine.

“Are you certain you want to do that?” Viola hovered an inch above the patchwork quilt that covered my bed. “Drink some more water, dear. Having a familiar does make one thirsty.”

“Familiar?” I croaked and fought back the urge to projectile vomit the water that sloshed around in my stomach. “What do you mean familiar?”

“You really are out of practice,” Viola tsked, smoothing the folds of her skirt. “This is why a coven is so important for young witches, such as yourself.”

“Excuse me? I ascended with the highest marks in my coven.” I stared at her transparent form floating above my bed. “Okay, I might be a little rusty.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this.” Viola used some of her energy to fluff the pillows even though her head never touched them. “But you cast the wrong spell.”

“That’s an understatement.” I plopped facedown on the bed beside her and buried my head in the pile of pillows.

“Are you crying?” Viola cackled. “A witch should never cry. Her tears are too powerful and valuable to be wasted on something so frivolous.”

“Raising a spirit for a familiar isn’t frivolous.

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