Better Haunts and Graveyards by Angela Roquet

Author:Angela Roquet [Roquet, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: witches, witches and shifters, paranormal community, paranormal shared universe, magic and mayhem, humorous romance, wizard of oz, wicked witch
Publisher: Violent Siren Press
Published: 2019-06-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

I BALLED MY FISTS AT my sides and stomped the entire way home. Rage and sorrow funneled inside me like a cyclone leading straight to hell. Dylan stayed a few steps behind, his own hands tucked down in the pockets of his jeans. He’d quietly listened to my ranting and raving since we’d left the meeting, but I was sure his heart was just as heavy as mine. The bat colony in the belfry were like family to him. And this was his childhood home.

It was hard not to feel slighted by the few Shifters I considered clients and friends. Polly, the porcupine Shifter I’d sold a cute bungalow to last summer, had at least been among the handful of Shifters who hadn’t seemed overjoyed about a Target. But she also worked at the hardware store, so her displeasure might have had more to do with job security.

Even more than the Shifters, I wondered how Zelda could do this to me. I felt so betrayed. I mean, how could the Baba Yaga think this ghost business was even remotely anything I could handle? Zelda was the only witchy friend I’d ever had—besides my gran—and I had really thought she was happy to have me in Assjacket. Maybe I’d overstayed my welcome.

I mean, sure. Target. What witch wouldn’t sacrifice a familiar or two to have one of those just down the street? Not that I believed for one second that was what Randal Thorpe intended to do with the property.

“If I were a better hex slinger, I’d shrink his balls to the size of peas,” I said through clenched teeth. “No, I’d fuse his spinal column together so he couldn’t lick his balls. Or turn his magic wand into a cactus. Then I’d brick him inside his doghouse—wait, I might be able to do that one without magic.”

“Maybe Mama Ellie has a spell for that in her book,” Dylan offered with a grimace and adjusted his own magic wand and fondleberries. “Hopefully one to get rid of the ghosts, too.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “And it would be nice to know what’s riling them up.”

We paused at the corner to admire the Hernández house from afar. It was three and a half stories of Victorian charm reinvented. The best home makeover I’d done by far. The soft green shutters and front door stood out against eggshell stucco, and the late morning breeze ruffled the petunias and morning glory in the planters that lined the porch.

Dylan had repaired the rotten steps and broken windows, and I admired his hard work, too. He’d also updated the house’s plumbing. We made a pretty good team. If everything didn’t go to hell in a handbasket, I could see us tackling all kinds of fixer-uppers around town.

“Never thought I’d see the place look that good again.” Dylan wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“You did half the work,” I said.

“Yeah, but your magic made it a home again.”

I smiled weakly at the compliment.

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