Jinxed_Toxic Bitchcraft Book One Read online

  He grinned, displaying his perfect white teeth. I kinda loved his smile.

  “I don’t think I could forget it. You had come over with your mom and barged into my room, demanding I play with you. You were so cute when you stomped your heel after I said no.” He chuckled lightly. My heart fluttered a little that he thought that.

  No. Stop. He meant ‘kid’ you was cute. Not ‘now’ you

  I sipped my drink to hide my blushing cheeks.

  “I still don’t know what I said or did to make you so mad,” he continued. “-but I remember you were so furious, your little cheeks turned red,” he teased.

  I scoffed. “You told me girls were stupid and to go play with my dolls. I hated dolls. At least, ones that weren’t like those cute, little, voodoo dolls my mother collected.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s right! Then you grabbed my Millennium Falcon lego model and rushed out my door like a bat out of hell. I chased after you, horrified at the thought of what you might do to it.”

  I chuckled, remembering that quite clearly. “Yep! I thought if I grabbed one of your toys, you’d be forced to play with me. But then you did this.” I pointed to the scorch mark.

  He gave me an affronted look. “Okay, A, that wasn’t a toy! I spent days putting that thing together. Without using magic, might I add. And B, I was still learning and wasn’t really trying to hurt you. Just slow you down.”

  My jaw dropped. “You threw a fire ball at me! Your dad was so pissed at you for ruining the door frame.”

  Milo looked down at his glass as he swirled the amber liquid, a smirk lighting his face. “Yeah, he was. You took off out the back door while he berated me.” His gaze flicked back to me. “I never did get that model back. What’d you do with it?”

  I bit my lip to hide the smile and looked guiltily at him. “I buried it.”

  He just looked at me wide eyed for a minute, then busted out into laughter once again. “Oh, my Goddess, you were such a brat! Did you leave it there?”

  I looked out the window in the back door, my eyes zeroing in on the massive, white willow tree that sat in the furthest corner of the property. I pointed at it with a smile. “I buried it under that tree. I planned to dig it back up, but my mother never brought us back. She broke it off with your dad a few days later.”

  We stood in silence after I replied. Just looking out at that tree and sipping our drinks as the memory washed over us.

  He smacked his lips. “We should dig it up,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “What? Now? It’s like two a.m.”

  He shrugged and stepped closer, making me hold my breath. “So? Have you lost your sense of adventure, Christi?” He almost whispered. His hand reached out and pushed a few strands of my hair behind my ear. The small caress sent tingles through my body. I shivered a little at the contact. He smiled knowingly, then walked out of the kitchen.

  I hated to admit it but being like this with Milo was nice. I sat down at the table and spun my cup in my hands as my mind and heart raced in tandem. He’d gotten so damn close to me. I just wanted him to keep touching me. And what was up with the tingling sensation I got every time he touched me? Touching was another new thing with him. We didn’t do that.

  We didn’t even really talk either. Usually when he’d come by the shop, it was just to hand me a citation or a fine, or even just a stern lecture on not harming the humans. Chatter was at a minimum and his smiles were always just polite. This Milo reminded me of the gangly, nerdy kid I’d crushed on when I was little – a hotter, manlier version though. He was only two years older than me, but most ten-year olds weren’t really interested in eight-year-old girls back then.

  But this grown up Milo, had me acting like a different person that wanted different things. I loved that any of my intimate relationships only stayed strictly in the bedroom. But ever since Orrin announced he wanted more, I’d been considering that maybe the way I liked things, wasn’t that great anymore. Now, being so laid back and laughing with Milo, it made it even harder to deny it. I was twenty-seven-years-old, and I’d never had a serious relationship. Ever. Was that a bad thing?

  However, even if I did change my tune and decided I wanted to legit date someone, who would I go to? Orrin, who I shared many of the same interests with, and also fit well with him on an intense, sexual level? Or Milo, who I’d known for so long and secretly adored from afar, yet believed he still thought of me as a sister. Though, that touch earlier had been anything but brotherly.

  Why couldn’t I be my mother and just say, “Fuck it. Why choose?”

  “Hey!” Milo shouted from the doorway into the kitchen, jolting me from my inner thoughts. “You coming?” He asked. He had put on a jacket and held a small shovel in one hand and the bottle of alcohol in the other.

  Oh, I’d like to be. I didn’t say that out loud, of course. Instead, I threw my hands up and stood. “What the hell. Why not? I’m not doing anything else tonight anyway.” Like getting laid. I snagged the bottle from his hand and poured a little more into my cup as we made our way outside.

  He waved his hand, igniting it in a bright, green glow that lit our path across the uneven ground.

  Damn it. Why can’t I do that kind of shit?

  I stumbled a little when a dizzy spell hit me, completely confused why I already had a slight buzz after only finishing one small drink. “What in the wendigo did you put in this? Actually, what is this?” I held the bottle up but didn’t recognize the label. Couldn’t really read it either. Is that a different language or am I just that fucked up?

  He smirked at me. “It’s scotch, and I didn’t put anything in it. Just take it easy drinking it. It’s stronger than your average scotch.”

  I scoffed. “No shit. I had what? Five sips?”

  He quirked a brow at me. “What? Can’t hang, Crafty?” He snagged the bottle from me and threw it back, taking a large swig of it, then handed it back to me with a smile.

  “Pfft, I can,” I argued. “Just fair warning though, I may forget where exactly I buried your toy by the time we get to the tree.”

  “Again, not a toy. And I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?”

  Cocky bastard.

  Six

  “Bitchy Witchy”

  I groaned when I woke up. My head pounded like a bunch of tiny people were hammering away at my brain with pick axes. I didn’t know what roused me, but a chilled breeze swept over me and I pulled the covers tighter over me.

  I had stopped drinking after my second glass last night. Then I helped Milo dig up about six holes in his backyard, because I did in fact forget where the fuck I buried that stupid toy. Sorry. Not toy. Model. Pfft. We didn’t find it and Milo had suggested I just crash there for the night. I felt awkward about the idea after the way he’d touched me and convinced him to just mix me up a quick sobering potion, so I could drive home and not kill anyone or myself. However, he didn’t notice I swiped his scotch bottle on the way out the door. I ended up taking a few more shots of it before bed last night. Just to take the edge off the crap he was making me feel.

  Which I was absolutely regretting now.

  The chill swept over me again and I slowly opened my eyes. When they were able to focus, a face floated above me.

  I screamed and rolled. I ended up in a tangled mess of sheets on the floor. I groaned when I landed and hit the back of my already hurting head hard against the wooden floor. Instinctively, I rolled again and ended up under my bed. Because apparently, that’s what you do when a ghost surprises you. I opened and closed my eyes rapidly, trying to fight through the head ache to figure out what year I was in. Yeah, I was that hung over.

  I was only just getting my eyes and mind to focus again, when a face flew through the mattress above me. “Hello!”

  I screamed again in surprise and shot up. Forgetting I was under the bed, my head banged into the bottom part of the mattress frame.

  Shit! I’m going to have a concussion at this rate.

&nbs
p; “Fuck, ghost boy! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked the annoying poltergeist as I rolled back out from under the bed, rubbing the spot on my forehead that I hit.

  Before he could answer me, the door to my room flew open. Turk walked in and threw a handful of glitter – or was that pixie dust? – into the air. “Morning sunshine! It’s a lovely day, so you should be out of bed!” He singsonged at the top of his lungs.

  I need to invest in a lock.

  His eyes scanned the room, then fell on me. Still tangled in the sheets and sitting on the floor.

  “Man, you look rough. What are you doing on the floor?” He asked, amusement tinting his voice like I’d purposely put myself down here.

  I rubbed my head again, then my eyes, trying to decide if I had the energy to murder him or not. No. I need coffee first. And a bagel.

  “Turk, imma need you to dial it down from loud and obnoxiously gay, to like quiet and minimally gay. My head hurts.”

  He huffed. “Well, safe to say you did not get laid last night by that attitude. I was sure when you texted me after one in the morning that you were going to Milo’s, he’d at least take care of that. Shame.” He opened his hand again and lightly blew more glitter at me. “Better?” He asked with a smirk.

  “Seriously, turn down the flames and drop the glitter or I’m signing you up for that Cougar Speed Dating service.”

  He immediately dropped the rest of what he had and dusted his hands off.

  “Wow. Aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine and rainbows in the morning? You should take notes from that guy,” ghost boy remarked sarcastically as he pointed at Turk

  “Shove it, ghost boy,” I snarled at him as I stood.

  “Uhh…Christi. Who you talking to?” Turk asked in confusion, looking around the room cautiously like something was about to jump out at him.

  I was kind of surprised Toast wasn’t in here to do just that.

  I looked from him to the ghost and back again. Ghost boy seemed just as confused by the fact Turk hadn’t even spared him a glance when he entered.

  “Seriously?” I asked Turk. “You can’t see him?” I pointed to the spectral pain in my ass.

  Turk’s eyes followed to where my finger was pointing, then shook his head; his brow pinched in confusion. “Uh… who?” He glanced back at me like I was crazy.

  “Oh. Awesome. I’m the only one who can see him. Perfect,” I deadpanned. I blew air into my cheeks and slowly unwound my legs from the blanket to stand. “Remember that stone I touched a couple weeks ago? Yeah, ghost boy came out of it. He’s been a real delight.”

  Turk’s face lit up with understanding and he made an ‘oh’ face.

  Ghost boy eyed me angrily. “I have a name, you know.”

  "Oh, yeah? What is it then?" I asked him, a bit of bite in my question. I was so not in the mood for him today. Or anything really. Why’d I have to continue drinking that damn scotch?

  "Beauregard Arlington," the ghost responded with an air of smugnesss.

  I wasn’t gonna laugh. I could hold it in.

  Nope. Can’t do it.

  A burst of laughter exploded from me. "Wow! That's a fucking mouthful. Imma call you…” I thought about it for a second. When the name hit me, a devilish smile took over my face. “Button. I like it. It's so much easier to say, and it's all cute and shit"

  He leered at me. "Button? Really? I think I'd rather die again."

  “Oh, I’m trying to make that happen, Button,” I replied.

  “Should I leave?” Asked Turk. “I feel like I’m interrupting some kind of lover’s quarrel.”

  “Ew! No!” Button and I groaned simultaneously.

  Yes. That name is definitely sticking.

  Turk smiled. “Sure. Okay! Well, I’ll leave you to it then. There’s coffee in the kitchen…” he paused; a mischievous smile turned up his lips. “And something else. I suggest you get dressed,” he said pointedly. With that, he turned and left the room.

  I didn’t even glance at Button as I swept from the room after him, still dressed in just my ‘Resting Witch Face’ black t-shirt and red lace underwear that I’d slept in.

  I stumbled into our tiny kitchen to see Orrin sitting casually in one of the chairs at our breakfast table. His ankle was crossed over his knee and arm slung over the back of the chair. His piercing, mercurial eyes zeroed in on me when I walked in. They looked me up and down, appraising my state of undress. He tapped a tattooed finger on the table and smirked up at me. I pulled my shirt down a bit, minorly uncomfortable to see him here. It didn’t stop my heart from racing when my name rolled off his tongue, though.

  “Christi.”

  I furrowed my brows and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to appear unfazed. Of course, the action only raised my shirt up a little higher, making him grin wider.

  Turk grabbed a bagel off the counter and handed it to me, then winked at Orrin. “She’s all yours. But she’s like a zombie with a bagel in the morning, so tread lightly or she’ll eat your face off.” He blew me a kiss as he walked out.

  I glared at his retreating back, before turning my attention back to the Incubus. “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

  He gave me a wicked grin and ran his pierced tongue along his lip. I felt my cheeks fill with color at that. Son of a succubus, he still affects me. I walked to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup, not even bothering to spend time adding cream and sugar. It would only give him longer to ogle my backside, which I felt him doing intensely.

  I turned and walked over to sit across him, eyeing him warily as I set my cup and bagel down. My curiosity of his visit outweighed my hunger for food and caffeine. Which was a damn shocker.

  “Just dropping by,” he answered indifferently. “Hadn’t heard from you since that last night we had together.” His smile at the end of that was far more suggestive than necessary. Like I could forget what we did. Ha!

  He grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled one out, then offered one to me.

  I slipped one out of the box, not taking my eyes off him as I leaned over the table to let him light mine. I took a drag and sat back.

  “I figured you knew that meant I wasn’t interested anymore, Orrin.” Fuck me, he smells delicious. But I’m definitely over him. I can still wanna lick him and be over him at the same time. Right?

  He smiled like he could hear exactly what I was thinking. “See, I don’t think that’s true. I know you, Christi. It stopped being just sex between us well over six months ago. I’m not stupid to think you feel nothing for me, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you don’t.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I just didn’t want to feel anything more for him. Incubus demons didn’t do serious about as much as I didn’t do serious. I ignored his question though as I really looked him over. I noticed his cheeks weren’t nearly as full as they’re supposed to be. His skin was slightly paler, and his raven hair had lost some of its shine. I swear I even saw a few grey hairs popping up inside his beard, which was now a bit more unkempt than usual.

  “Are you feeding?” I asked him bluntly, knowing this had to be the answer for his physical appearance.

  His smiled dropped the tiniest amount. “Yes.”

  “Bullshit.” If he wanted to give me a one-word reply, then I could play this game too.

  He sighed and took a drag of his cigarette, biting at his lip ring as he looked down at the table. “I am. Just not from sex. I don’t need sex to feed, just arousal. Whether it’s mine or someone else’s.”

  What? Since when? He’d always told me it had to be sex. Did he lie to me about that?

  Ignoring that new bit of info, I continued. “So, what have you been doing then? Because clearly, it’s not enough. Can’t you like die from not feeding?”

  He laughed humorlessly. “Worried about me, Christi?” He blew smoke out the corner of his mouth then put his cigarette out in a cup.

  “Answer the question, Orrin,” I
replied seriously.

  He shook his head, his eyes not leaving mine. “No. I can’t die from not feeding. But my power will weaken if I stop entirely. My warlock magic will be there, but my Incubus magic will all but dry up.”

  I blanched. “Then why the hell aren’t you feeding from sex? Trust me, being without a steady flow of magic is shitty. Especially if it’s someone with your caliber of power. Why would you give that up?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Come on, Christi. I thought it was obvious,” he said with a slight laugh as he stood. He walked around the table, bent forward, and placed one hand on the table and the other on the back of my chair, trapping me in my seat. His lips ghosted over my ear. “When you’re ready to face your demons, call for me.”

  Those same tingles I’d been feeling lately, flooded my body when his lips grazed my temple to place a small kiss.

  My mouth could only open and close like a fish as he disappeared in a flash of light and smoke right next to me.

  I puffed at my cigarette one last time then put it out. “Fuck!”

  I angrily threw ingredients together for my Rose Quartz bath bomb, muttering under my breath about stupid demons, stupid Wardens, and above all, stupid ghosts.

  It’d been two days since Orrin’s visit. I wasn’t getting much sleep, because Button, my new resident tormentor, had taken it upon himself to start singing show tunes at random points in the night.

  When had my life turned into a paranormal soap opera? Everything was perfectly fine before Orrin opened his big, beautiful mouth. Before I touched that damn stone. Before I hung out with Milo like we’d been close like that for ages. My mind wasn’t taking a break from all the turbulent emotions racing through it.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

  I punctuated each time I thought that word with a pound of my fist into the soft, pink mixture in the bowl in front of me.

  “Wanna talk about it, bitchy witchy? You’re starting to make Shakes anxious. His usual one insult per customer has upped to three rapid fire insults.”