Page 1 of Hex You

PROLOGUE

TWO HOURS EARLIER

It would take a while before Jana Ashley felt at peace again. That’s what happened when the devil came in. He flipped life upside down and made good, God-fearing Christians question themselves and their beliefs. But God would see her through, and He would be there to guide her.

Jana’s glance roamed the sandy shore of Goode Lake behind her and the lone footprints that led to where she now stood.

“… when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you,”she whispered, fresh tears swirling her view of the water’s calm blue surface as she clutched her daily devotional to her chest. Her lips moved again, this time in a silent prayer to the lord and savior she knew was always watching.

Another deity was watching, too. A supreme being not at all as forgiving and compassionate as Jana Ashley believed her god to be.

Amphitrite, goddess of the sea and wife of Poseidon—a philandering, egotistical, wet blanket of a god (although if anyone spoke about him out of turn, she would quickly fill their lungs with salt water)—stood in the shallow waters near the shore of Goode Lake,twirling her azure fingertips in the lengths of her skirts. They lapped like waves against her hands and shimmered in the orangey glow of the setting sun, tarpon scales in a crystal-clear sea. She had cloaked herself from this mortal, fromallmortals. She was an observer, gathering enough evidence to wage war on the witch who had crossed her.

The fresh water around her feet bubbled and popped against her ankles, her anger heating it to a boil. With a deep inhale, she brushed her kelp-brown hair from her shoulders and cast her gaze to the edge of the water and the fluorescent-pink mound not too far in front of Mrs. Ashley. Amphitrite smiled.

Jana adjusted the small, checkered blanket tucked beneath her arm and mindlessly trailed her fingers over the large gold crucifix that rested against the collar of her shirt while she surveyed the curving shoreline ahead for a good place to spread out her throw and settle in for her daily dose of healing. Her brow pinched and her lips thinned as she squinted at the heap of clothes piled up ahead. She gripped her devotional and narrowed her brown eyes on the surface of the lake. If there were skinny-dippers out here, she would catch them. And if the owners of the castoff clothes were in the trees fornicating… Well, Jana wasn’t quite sure what she would do then, but she knew exactly what the Lord God would have in store for them after their souls had departed this earth.

Seconds ticked by, and then minutes. No naked bodies surfaced.

Jana’s cheeks reddened with both embarrassment and outrage as she realized that, unless Goodeville had suddenly been taken over by mermaids (and she would almost believe it with everything she’d seen over the past few days), no one could hold their breath for that long.

“Fornicators!” she spat, tightening her hold on her devotional as she picked up her pace and marched toward the discarded apparel.

City trails and playgrounds surrounded Goode Lake. Volunteers cleaned its beaches weekly. The church held summer camp activities on these shores. This was a good place, a clean place, a family place.This wasn’t Chicago, where oversexed heathens could get their jollies in the bushes!

“I’ll call the police.” She nodded to herself and tugged at her fanny pack as she closed in on the rumpled mound of fabric, any trace of embarrassment overtaken by the wave of self-righteous indignation that swelled beneath her ribs. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. And then let’s see them explain their sinful actions to the—”

Jana stopped cold. Her copy ofDaily Wisdom for the Devoted Womanslipped from her grip and hit the wet sand with athud.

Stiff, white hands rested against the water-stained sand, poking out of a highlighter-pink windbreaker like formations of craggy, bleached coral. The unzipped flaps of polyester and baggy hood shuttered in the gentle breeze and hid the wearer’s face.

Jana released a shaky exhale as her gaze trailed down the still torso and khaki Bermuda shorts to the bare calves, ghostly pale beneath the gently rippling water. The long ends of perfectly tied shoestrings stretched toward the surface as if reaching for air as small gray fish pecked at the naked flesh of the partially waterlogged body.

“H-hello?” The word scraped against Jana’s dry tongue as the wind gusted and goose bumps flashed across her arms.

The only response was the quietwhish whishof the pink windbreaker.

“Are you o-okay?” Jana’s throat tightened as she forced herself to inch forward, forced her trembling hand to reach out, her fingers to grasp the edge of the jacket. Her heart was a chunk of ice inside her chest as she pulled back the pink collar.

Blood as red and dry as brick crusted against a gash across the woman’s neck and stained the shoulder of her lemon-yellow top.

Jana jerked backward and pressed the gingham blanket to her mouth, muffling the cry that crunched like gravel in her throat.

Her hands went numb and the blanket slid from her fingers as another gust blew back the jacket’s hood, revealing a round nose and chin and open, cloudy eyes she knew all too well.

“Julie!” she shrieked and took another step back.

The blanket tangled around Jana’s ankles, and she stumbled, as graceful as a newborn colt. The breath wheezed from her lungs when she smacked the ground. With a haggard breath, she sucked in a mouthful of sand. She lifted her chin and spit. Blond hair blew in front of her eyes, tangling with her own dark strands, and she brushed them back before realizing they weren’t her own.

Her screams flooded her eyes with tears as she pawed at the shore, scampering backward, the heels of her shoes digging trenches in the sand.

Minutes went by, or maybe seconds, hours, years. Time had no meaning with death so near.

Finally, Jana’s shrieks ceased, and her insides went numb. With shaking hands, she removed her phone from her fanny pack. It took three tries before she could dial 911 without error. When asked later, she wouldn’t recall what she said to the operator or that she’d sent a text for help to her son, Jax Ashley. She would only remember the stillness of Julie Stoll’s body, how pink her coat had looked against the deep red stain, and the gash across her neck that rippled and puckered like hardened candlewax.

Satan was loose in Goodeville, infecting its people, turning them all away from the Lord. This was proof. And this time everyone would see it.

Jana’s fingers flew to her crucifix necklace. Her breath cracked around a noiseless sob as she clutched the gold cross so tightly the points bit into the flesh of her palm.“Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”