Magical Whispers & the Undead (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 5)

1

Evalee

“Eva, please hang on, okay?” Hunter whispers into my lifeless body’s ear as he scoops it up into his arms. Cradling my body against his chest, he then strides toward the tent’s exit with Peyton leading the way. “Hang on, okay?” he whispers again, clutching his magic wand in one hand. “We’re going to bring you back to life. You need to stay with me … I can’t lose you, Eva.”

I’ve never seen Hunter so emotional before. Usually, he’s all about the jokes and flirty smiles. This … He’s really upset.

He lowers his lips toward my body’s ear again and whispers, “Peyton and I are going to go talk to a Ghost Breather. We’ll get you back. Just stay with me, okay? Please, just stay with me.”

“I am still with you,” I promise, although he can’t hear me.

I wish I could comfort him, but my ghostly form is useless. All I can do is float beside him and utter words that only my ears will hear.

I heave a frustrated sigh as I float through objects and speak to myself.

For the crappiness of all undead witches, being dead really sucks. Seriously, I can’t communicate with anyone. Plus, I keep walking through creatures, feeling their insides, which … yuck. But hey, on a positive note, at least my worry of being caught by demons has gone down a notch since they currently can’t see me. The only creature that can communicate with the spirit world is a Ghost Breather, and they’re extremely rare. Hunter, or well, Peyton knows one.

After they track her down, Hunter has plans of communicating with me to get information on the spell I was going to use to bring Ryleigh back to life, before she turned into a zombie-witch, and where I hid the ingredients to make that happen. While I appreciate the effort and everything, I’m not too convinced he’ll be able to bring me back, even if he does find a Ghost Breather, since I never gathered all the items for the revival spell. And there’s a good reason for that. Because the remaining ingredients are going to be a pain in the witch’s behind to get ahold of. Sadly, the possibility of me living again is looking pretty Grim Reaper grim.

I should be freaking out—and I am—but I’ve always sort of saw this day coming. You know, the day when my klutziness and bad luck would send the Grim Reaper knocking on my door way too early.

The only reason the old, hooded soul collector hasn’t shown up yet is that, back in the day, I accidentally blasted myself with a spirit connection spell. That means, since I’m dead now, I get to hang around with the spirits for a while and haunt the world until the magic of the spell wears off. At the time it happened, I was upset for messing up another spell. Now I’m kind of feeling grateful for my spaz spell casting abilities.

Hunter whispers promises to me again, tearing me from my thoughts. I speed up and remain close to them as Hunter and Peyton reach the exit.

Right before Hunter steps outside into the crowd at the freak show, he utters an invisibility incantation underneath his breath. “We’re invisible for now,” he tells Peyton as he adjusts my body in his hold, my arms and legs hanging limply toward the ground. “But invisibility spells don’t last long, so we need to get out of here as quickly as we can.”

Peyton raises her brows. “Why do we need to be invisible at all?”

“Because I don’t want anyone seeing me carrying her around.” He brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek. “It’ll draw too much attention, and that’s the last thing we need right now.”

Peyton nods in agreement, then draws back the flap of the tent. “I still can’t believe she didn’t turn into a vampire. With my blood in her system”—she casts a quick glance at my body, her face super pale, even for a vampire—“she should’ve woken up with fangs and crazed blood thirst by now.”

“I’m not a fan of vampires, but part of me wishes she would,” Hunter mumbles. “At least then I’d know she was all …” He swallows hard, his hand slightly trembling.

Looking as uncomfortable as a human at a vampire party, Peyton pats his arm. The two of them have never really gotten along, so the gesture is as awkward as a twitchy witch. But hey, at least my death is sort of bringing them together, right?

“Eva’s tough. And she can talk to the dead,” she says. “If anyone can make it back from the death, it’s her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hunter agrees, straightening his stance. “Let’s get the hell out of here before my spell wears off.”

With a nod, Peyton ducks out of the tent. “When we get into your truck, I’ll send my Ghost Breather friend a message. But I’m warning you now, this isn’t going to be easy. She hates what she is, so we might just pay her an unannounced visit and take her off guard.”

“She really hates talking to ghosts that much?” Hunter holds my body closer as he walks beside Peyton, the two of them weaving through the crowd of creatures visiting the freak show.

Peyton nods. “So much that she refuses to talk to them.”

Hunter grows quiet, worry written all over his face. Instinctively, I reach out to comfort him, but my hand slips through his shoulder. Sighing, I let my arm drop to my side and simply follow him through the mob.

Peyton and Hunter stay quiet for a while, maneuvering carefully through the packed area, the atmosphere buzzing with chatter and excitement. Lights are strung about the tents, glittering like stars. The air smells like magic, cotton candy, and rust, probably from all the vampire drinks floating around. If I were normal, I’d totally be enjoying this place. But I’m not. I’m a hybrid; part succubus and demon, and part witch and demon feeder. And now I guess also part ghost. I’m the only one of my kind that I know of. A freak of nature. I guess I sort of belong at the freak show. Or I would belong if it weren’t for the fact that every demon in Mystic Willow Bay is hunting me right now for unknown reasons.

They’re not the only creatures hunting me, either. Someone from the Mystic Willow Bay Society wants me dead, as well. Or, at least wants me to go underground to where most of the demons hang out. I’m starting to wonder if they’re responsible for my death.

All I can remember before I died was a blur zipping through the tent. Max had been there. So had zombie Ryleigh, Hunter, an

d Peyton. I don’t think any of them were behind my murder, though. No, whatever killed me had entered that tent at an alarmingly quick speed. The town clock had been ticking backward, too, just like that freaky clown had warned me …

Swish!

I shiver as I accidentally walk through a creature. No, not a creature. A clown. The clown I bumped into before I died.

Yuck! Just yuck! I just walked through a freakin’ clown!

The clown continues walking, oblivious to the fact that a ghost just passed through her. She keeps glancing around as she bounces on her toes, scanning the area with her overly large eyes. Her bright pink pigtails and creepy painted on smile makes her stand out like a giggling pixie at a vampire blood fest. Normally, I’d be running like a bat flying out of Peyton’s bedroom, but this clown probably knows something about my death. After all, she did give me a warning to beware of the clock.

That can’t just be a freaky coincidence.

I peek back at Hunter. He’s near the exit gates, about to walk out. I need to be around my body when he visits the Ghost Breather, but I also want to tail that clown for a bit; see where she goes. I’m unsure where the Ghost Breather lives, but I can feel an unearthly connection to my body, an electric current, so if I need to, I can track my body.

I’ll make this quick, I vow to myself, then hurry after the clown.

Because, while I want to be alive again, I also need to figure out who tried to kill me. If I don’t, then the murderer could kill me again.