“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Violet says, “because itdidjust happen.”
“Do you know how much magic aregulardemonic summoning requires? And this is the Devil. The Devil!” Olivy again. Hand on hip, dark eyes probing. Kind of creepy, if you ask me. Not someone you’d be keen to meet in the proverbial dark alley. “Not to mention a willingness to break every rule of witchcraft in existence and risk your own life in the process. What theseriousfuck, Vi?”
“Fair question.” I take a swig of the booze. Terrible, as expected, but strong. Into the win column it goes. “What in theveryserious fuck indeed.”
“I can’t explain it!” she erupts, all fire and brimstone and wild curls. “You were supposed to be a pivot table!”
“Apivottable?” I try to recall the term. Not sure I’ve heard it before, but it sounds a bit like... “Oh! Is that a sexual device? The one with the leather straps and all the different notches for the—”
“It’s a spreadsheet function!Spreadsheets! My love language! How could I screw this up?”
“Spreadsheets?” Olivy grabs what I assume is the offending laptop, her eyes scanning the screen.
“This is all wrong,” Violet says, pacing. “Goddess, IknewI shouldn’t have had all those lemonitos. One minute I’m enjoying the citrusy-minty buzz, scrolling through my old digital spellbooks, fixing typos, updating ingredients with appropriate substitutions, highlighting rows and columns for future reference, organizing my pivot table, thinking that maybe—justmaybe—my life isn’t such a shitshow after all.”
“Take a breather, Vi,” Olivy says. “I just need to get a better look at this spreadsheet mess and—”
“There I am, getting all high on life like maybe there’s actually some teeny, tiny shred of hope left to cling to,” Violet continues, ignoring her sister—wholly unaware of her sister, actually—“because the universe has my back and I’ve got magic in my blood, damn it, and if I put all these spells into a pivot table, I can sort and export and findpreciselywhat I need, right? Because that’s how pivot tables work,right?”
Blank stare. It’s all I’ve got. “Is this a trick question, or—”
“But is that what happened? Is it? No, of course not! Because one minute I’m sorting and highlighting, happily pivoting, and all of a sudden, a cat and a flash and a fire and bim-bam-boom, the Devil. Really, Universe? The freaking Devil? The Aunts are going to murder me, and poor Gigi’s probably rolling over in her grave to make room for my soon-to-be-murdered corpse, but hey… bright side?” She whirls around to face me again, her eyes wild, more curls springing loose from the bun, a pint-sized Medusa on a rampage. “If I’m dead, at least I won’t have to deal withyou.”
I raise a single eyebrow.
Dealwith me? As ifI’mthe reason for this catastrophe? Oh, I think not.
I set down my rum slushy. Roll up my satin sleeves (not as easy as it looks). The gloves are officially off.
My skin turns hot, horns lengthening and twisting outward from my skull, shoulders broadening, a glimpse of my true form flashing beneath the civilized facade.Thisis the real me. The face of death I show my corrupted souls upon their very last breath, the precise moment they realize just how much they’ve signed away.
Time to show this troublemakerexactlywho she’s dealing with now…
“Well, that depends,witch.” I take a step closer and grin down at her, feeling every bit the all-powerful monster the legends would have you believe. “Is your soulwhollyuntarnished? Nary a sin nor errant thought in that pretty little head? No lies or secrets, no shame or guilt, no past transgressions?Or…” I grip her quavering chin between my thumb and index finger, tilting her face up toward me, her eyes so wide with fright I can see my reflection in them—glowing red eyes, gnarled black horns, teeth as sharp as razor wire. “Might there be a special place in my domain reservedjustfor you?”
Her face pales enough that Ialmostfeel guilty for intimidating her. Almost.
“Oh, goddess,” she whispers. “Oh goddess oh goddess oh—”
I press a finger to her lips. “Let’s not summon another all-powerful being to this soiree, shall we?”
“No, we shall not. Won’t not. Definitely not. Um. Olivy?” Darting away from me, she joins her sister at the laptop. “Do you have any valerian root on you? I ran out and my head is killing me.”
“Go sniff some lavender and calm your perky tits.” The dark witch cracks her knuckles and starts typing, eyes never leaving the screen. “You too, Satan.”
“I prefer you not use that term, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’tcare, does that count? Anyway, no use getting your Devil-drawers in a bunch until we know exactly what we’re dealing with and—oh, wait. Ohno…”
Fingers pause abruptly over the keys.
Gasps are gasped.
Curses are cursed.
“Is this the spell you cast?” Olivy asks, and the mushroom nods. “For the love of the goddess, Vi. You’re lucky the magical kickback didn’t disintegrate you.”
“Just tell me it’s reversible,” Violet says. “Please, please,pleasetell me the summoning spell is reversible.”
