The Secret Life of a Witch (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 1)

My lips curl and my fingers spasm, not just out of anger, but because my body is unfreezing. The demon notices, too, and steps back.

“Until we meet again.” He throws me another wink as my body movements return to full form.

I spring to my feet then leap for him with my hand outstretched. “What do you know about my sister’s—”

Poof.

He dissolves into a mist of smoke. And while I’m pissed off as hell, one good thing came out of it.

“I got a demon scale!” I cry, jumping up and down, holding the reddish scale up in the air.

“I’m glad you’re so happy about that, but I’m completely confused as to why.” Hunter grunts as he stumbles to his feet.

“Oh, my gosh, are you okay?” I ask, rushing toward him.

He nods as he staggers sideways. “Other than getting my ass kicked by a cocky-ass demon, I’m just lovely.”

I hold his arm as he steadies his balance. “Did he hit you with a curse?”

“Yeah. I think it was a freezing one. He tried to hit me with a couple more, but ended up hitting my hair instead.” He looks at me worriedly as he ruffles his singed hair into place. “How bad is it?”

“Um …” I press my lips together, debating whether or not to lie.

“Come on; just rip the Band-Aid off.”

“Other than a few bald spots in the back, you look as sexy as always.” Whoopsie. I so didn’t mean for the sexy part to slip out.

“Sexy?” he questions. Then his eyes enlarge as he shoots his hand to his head. “Bald spots?”

“It really doesn’t look that terrible,” I lie as he fusses with his hair. “There’s just a few in the back.” I put my hand to my mouth and cough out, “And, like, seven in front.”

“Seven!” Fury flames in his eyes. “If I ever see that demon again, I’ll kill him.”

“No killing. But feel free to hit him with a molting spell.” I retrieve his wand from my pocket. “You dropped this back on the sidewalk.” I hand the wand to him. “Maybe you can do a spell to make your hair grow back.”

“Thanks.” Leaving one hand on his head, he takes the wand. “But I can’t use my wand for probably at least twenty-four hours, if not longer.”

“Why?”

“Because a demon’s curse hit it.”

“Oh. Well, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it definitely does.” He gives a contemplative pause. “Hey, maybe you could do the spell.”

Thinking he’s joking, I snort a laugh. But the hilarity dies when I note his serious expression.

“Did the demon hit you with a lose-your-mind curse?” I ask. “Because that’s the only reason I can come up with as to why you’d ask me to use my magic on you.”

“It’s just a small spell,” he insists. “And I’ll help you.”

“Or you could just wear a hat.”

“The only hat I own is the standard wizard’s hat, and I refuse to walk around town with that on my head.”

I kick the tip of my boot against the grass. “Why? Troy used to do it all the time.”

He gives me a stressing look. “Exactly.”

I sigh. “Hunter, please don’t make me do this.”

He struggles not to sulk. “I won’t ever make you do anything, but I really wish you’d try.”

Guilt creeps up on me. I shift my weight uncomfortably as I rotate my wand around in my hand. “You really think I can do it?”

He nods. “I really think you can. It’s a fairly easy spell, and like I said, I’ll help you.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “All right, let’s do it.”

He grins from ear-to-ear, but the slightest bit of nervousness is evident in his eyes. “Okay, put the end of your wand to my head and repeat after me.”

I do as he says, lightly touching the tip of my wand to the peak of his forehead.

With a deep breath, he utters the spell softly. I open my mouth to repeat the chant and try not to totally lose my cool as he covers his hand over mine and holds my wand with me. His eyes are trained on mine, which only takes my nerves up to an eleven hundred. Somehow, though, I manage to get the entire spell out coherently, and enchanting sparks twinkle from the end of my wand to spread across his head. Blond strands of hair begin to regrow until no bald spots remain on that pretty head of his.

I’m just about to smile when the end of my wand wheezes and the sparks sputter out into smoke, the spell gone awry.

I frown. “Aw, crap.”

Chapter Six

Ten minutes later, Hunter and I are parked in front of the Mystic Willow Bay Daily newspaper. The silence that has stretched between us since we left the park is maddening, but I don’t dare open my mouth. No, after what I did, I need to wait for him to speak first.

He silences the engine and slants forward to examine his reflection in the rearview mirror, something he hasn’t done since we got in the truck. Then he runs his hand over the top of his head, flattening his hair down.

“Well, it could be worse,” he finally says, turning toward me with the sweetest smile. “I could still be bald.”

My shoulders hunch forward. “Don’t try to coddle me. I screwed up big time and now you have short, black and blue hair. And for who knows how long.”

“I’m not trying to coddle you,” he insists, reaching across the seat to take my hand. “It really isn’t that horrible.”

“Really?” I question skeptically. “Even though there’s no blond left or length?”

He gives a half-shrug. “I’ve been meaning to cut it, anyway. It was becoming too hard to maintain.”

“Hunter, you’ve been obsessed with having your hair long ever since we were in middle school.”

“Well, I’m not in middle school anymore, am I?” He rubs his hand over his cropped hair. “And this … This could be cool, right?”

I nod truthfully. “It looks very punk rock.”

He smiles thoughtfully. “Huh. I never thought I could pull that kind of look off.”

“Well, you definitely can.” I pick at my chipped fingernail polish. “I’m sorry for screwing up … again.”

“This isn’t your fault.” He gently squeezes my hand. “I’m the one who asked you to do the spell. If anything, it’s my fault. I should’ve helped you more or just lived with the bald spots.” He wavers his head from side to side. “Nah, I take that back. I’d way rather have blue hair than be bald.”

I smile, but the move is excruciating. Why can’t I, just once, be an awesomely skilled witch?

Suddenly, my thoughts backtrack to something strange.

I straighten in the seat. “Hey, off the subject, but did you hear anything the demon said to me?”

He shakes his head. “I lost my hearing when he blasted me with the curse. Why? Did he say something odd?”

I nod then give him a quick recap of what the demon said.

“He called you weirdly beautiful,” Hunter mumbles after I finish.

I rest my elbow on the back of the seat. “Yeah, I wasn’t too impressed, either. But I think that was probably the least important thing he said.” When Hunter hesitates to agree, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” He tugs at the ends of his sleeves. “It just kind of seems like he was hitting on you.”

I bark out in laughter. “Ha! Yeah, right!”

“Why is that so funny?”

“Because a demon—or anyone, for that matter—would never hit on me.”

Now Hunter is the one to laugh. “You think no one’s ever hit on you before?”

“Not think. Know.”

“You’re more oblivious than I thought, then.”

“Hey.” I reach out and lightly pinch his chest, eliciting a chuckle from him. “I may live in my own little world sometimes, but I’m not oblivious.”

He rubs the spot where I pinched him. “If you say so.”

“Hunter,” I protest. “Stop saying that.”

“Why?” he asks innocently. “It’s the

truth.”

When I glare at him, he laughs.

“I don’t know why you’re getting upset about this,” he says. “It should be a good thing.”

I lift my brows. “That a demon hit on me?”

His amusement fizzles. “Not that part. I’m serious, if I ever see it again, I’m going to kill it.”

“No killing, remember? Molting spells are okay. Killing … not so much,” I remind him. “We’re completely steering away from the point.”