The Secret Life of a Witch 3 (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 3)

Chapter One

Do you ever wonder if your life has been a complete and utter dream—or a complete and utter nightmare, depending on what kind of life you have? Or have you ever had one of those moments when you question if you’re dead and what you’re seeing is the afterlife, but you don’t realize it? Or do you sometimes question if you’re trapped in a coma and your mind has created a delusional world when you wake up in a demon lair with rap music booming through the stony walls? No? Huh. Well, I guess it’s just me then.

Just in case you ever do find yourself in these sorts of situations, take my advice: you’ll question if anything is real.

“What the hell happened?” I mutter, clutching my head and blinking around at what I can only assume is a demon lair. Well, either that or I’ve stumbled across a very high-tech bear cave.

I immediately shake my head. Seriously, Evalee, a high-tech bear cave? What the hell is wrong with my brain! That is the million-dollar question, isn’t it?

I rack my mind for how I got here, trying to put together the pieces of how I ended up lying in a bed, in a cave, with lantern lights covering the domed ceiling, a stereo with a pretty great base system, and the largest flat screen television I’ve ever seen.

Slowly, bits and pieces creep back to me …

Hunter confessing our entire friendship is a lie …

The secret society he, Opal, Ryleigh, and my fake parents belong to …

Me being some sort of part-witch, part-demon, part-creature in question freak …

Max the demon showing up, kidnapping me, and carrying me someplace where time moves faster than in Mystic Willow Bay …

Me begging Max to put me down when I started to feel dizzy …

Then blacking out after hanging upside down for too long.

“Freakin’ demons.” I press my fingertips to the brim of my nose and take a few measured breaths, telling myself to remain calm, that whatever’s about to happen can’t be any worse than finding out I’ve been lied to my entire life by everyone I thought cared about me. “It really can’t be worse,” I mutter, my heart clenching in pain. “Nothing can … I don’t think.”

Sucking in an inhale, I lift my head and sit up straight in the bed. I give my body a once-over to make sure everything is normal and that Max didn’t do anything to me while I was passed out, like … say curse me with a unicorn horn pox. Except for a couple of scratches, my pale skin appears free of any horns. However, my shorts do have a couple of tiny burn holes in the hem, and so does my black T-shirt and plaid shirt.

“What in the freaking smoking witches happened?” I slip my finger through one of the singed holes and frown. “Why does it look like someone pressed cigarettes into my clothes …? Or like a dragon breathed on me?” My eyes widen. Perhaps, while I was unconscious, we ran into a dragon.

Fearing other parts of my body are burnt, I push from the bed and shuffle toward a tall, oval mirror perched in the corner of the room. As the cool, jagged, rocky floor scuffs against my bare feet, I become aware that I’ve lost my boots. Well, either that or Max jacked them so I can’t easily run away.

Grimacing at the thought, I move in front of the mirror and examine my body. My long brown hair is a tangled mess, but fortunately appears the same length as always. And except for a black smudge across my left cheekbone, my face looks normal. Well, as normal as a face can look with weird rainbow eyes.

Blowing out a stressed breath, I comb my fingers through my messy hair then move on to my next problem—figuring out where in the bleep I am. I know from the small, glittering stream of water cascading down the walls that I have to be in a demon’s lair. But is this Max’s place? Why would he bring me here? Why did he take me at all? He never did give me any answers. He just told me that I could call him Max and that I’d be returned back to Mystic Willow Bay in time to save my sister. That means he’ll eventually let me go, right?

I nearly laugh at my stupid thoughts. Ha! Just because a demon says something, doesn’t make it true. In fact, usually every day is opposite day for a demon, most of them being liars.

Which would make you a liar, too.

A shaky exhale trembles from my lips as reality crushes down on my shoulders.

I’m part demon. I’m part of the group of species that kills for fun, curses people for no reason, and lives underground; sometimes in sewers, and sometimes in gross, nasty lairs. Although, this lair doesn’t resemble any of the photos I’ve seen of demon lairs. Perhaps this room is the nicer section of it.

Summoning up every drop of courage I possess, I inch toward the arched doorway across from me to get a better look at where I am. The closer I get, the louder the music becomes, blasting out any other noise and giving me no sense of what’s going on.

Am I alone? Is a cluster of demons waiting for me to step out so they can feast on me?

According to Hunter, if a demon tries to drink my power, they die. I wouldn’t have believed him, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

That revelation makes me feel a tad bit better, but any sense of comfort goes bye-bye, see ya on the next full moon when I exit the room and step out into a smoke-filled room with chairs, tables, and a fireplace.

Oh, yeah, and about ten flippin’ demons, both male and female, smoking cigars, drinking whiskey, and playing a game of cards.

I instantly screech to halt and start to back away, but it’s too late. I’ve already been spotted by every single one of them.

“Um …” I try not to panic, yet my anxiety shoots through the roof as ten pairs of red, bloodthirsty, murderous eyes fixate on me.

And all of them look ready to kill.

Chapter Two

Okay, maybe I jumped to conclusions when I said all of them look ready to kill. Only a couple look murderously bloodthirsty, but that could be that they’re just thirsty.

My guess is confirmed when a demon with sandy-blond hair and sporting a tux materializes in the room to refill everyone’s glasses.

As the demons drink their freshly poured whiskey, the bloodthirsty looks go down a notch. A few of the other demons seem utterly bored with my presence. One of them even yawns. Some appear mildly intrigued, other marginally annoyed. Another l

aughs at me.

The sound sends a chill up my spine. I know that mocking laugh.

I squint through the smoke and, sure enough, I make out a dark-haired, pierced, Goth prince laughing at me from the far back corner.

Max is dressed head to toe in black, with chains hanging from his pants and leather bands covering his wrists. His clunky boots are kicked up on a table, and he’s tipped back in the chair with his hands tucked behind his head. So casual. Not a care in the world. As if he’s unafraid of me trying to run, trying to fight. Like I won’t do anything.

Irritation works underneath my skin, only amplifying as a smirk spreads across his face.

I narrow my eyes at him and glance over my shoulder, looking for a place to run, and not just to escape, but to prove a point—that I’m tougher than I look. But it’s an act. A reaction … Okay, okay, maybe I’m not tough. That doesn’t mean I can’t change that.

Elevating my chin and throwing his smirk right back at him, I spin on my heels and rush toward a narrow crack nestled in the far back wall. I’m not sure if I can fit through it or where it leads, but I’m not about to stand around and let these demons do … Well, whatever they’re planning on doing to me.

The second I try to squeeze through the crack in the wall, I smack into an invisible barrier and fly backward, landing on my ass.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumble as a puddle seeps through the bottom of my shorts. “An invisible force field? Really, Max? That’s the best you’ve got?”

The music dies, and the quiet that follows has me feeling about as stiff as a broomstick.

“You say that like you didn’t just get knocked flat on your ass.” Max’s voice comes from right beside my ear, so close I can feel his breath.

Startled beyond all magical control, I nearly pee my pants. Thankfully, I manage to keep my bladder in check. Although, I’m not sure it would matter since the ass of my shorts is already sopping wet.

“You know, if I had my wand, I could escape,” I lie, leaning forward and stumbling to my feet.

“Sure you could.” His condescending tone makes my fingers curl inward.

I turn around to face him with my hands balled at my side, attempting not to notice how much more intimidating—and sexy—he looks up close.

Sexy? Jeez, Eva, get a grip on yourself.

Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to tell my hormones to cool the freeze spells down while being around Max. Demon or not, there’s no denying the guy is attractive. Well, if you like that Goth, bad boy look, which I usually don’t. My taste has always been blond-haired, piercing free, slightly on the preppy side guys. Aka Hunter. Then again, the last time I saw Hunter, he pretty much looked like Max, except for with blond hair and no piercings. That I could see, anyway.

I crinkle my nose at the memory of how he told me that was how he looked when he wasn’t around me. He looked so strange to me. Hot? Yes. Maybe even hotter. But unfamiliar. Not the best friend I thought I knew.

“What’s that look for?” Max questions with a curve of his brow. “You’re not thinking about that pretty boy wizard you’re in love with, are you?”