Page 2 of Hex You

Still cloaked to human eyes, Amphitrite stepped onto shore next to Jana in a cloud of salt-scented air, the layers of her skirt undulating in time with the gently pulsing lake waters. A smile still played at her lips, the gentle curve of a dolphin’s back, as she circled Jana Ashley.

“This is not the fault of Satan.”

Sand flew as Jana jumped to her feet and whirled around. “Who’s there?”

“It is I…”Amphitrite’s grin fell as she lifted her algae-green gaze toward the heavens.“My child.”

Jana blinked the tears from her lashes and scanned the banks of wildflowers and gently swaying grasses, expecting at any moment for the blades to burst into flame.

“God?” She opened her mouth to say more and closed it just as quickly. She had never been one to believe that the almighty would speak to her directly. At least, not with His words.

Amphitrite’s sigh was a cloud of ocean spray. “I have come in your time of need,my child,” she said, adding the last bit for good measure.

A single tear rolled down Jana’s cheek. “Oh, Holy Savior, if I am truly blessed enough for it to really be you, please deliver me from this evil. Show me the way back to your light.”

Amphitrite frowned down at the mousy woman. Mortals were so simple, almost not worth the energy to wring them out for the tiny drops of fun that dribbled free. But thatwitchhad to be shown her place. And didn’t they say that it took a village to raise a child? Well, Amphitrite would use one to burn Hunter Goode to the ground.

“Goodeville has been poisoned, tainted, infected by evil.”Amphitrite studied Jana, the mortal’s wide muddy-brown eyes twinkling with a reverence the sea goddess had gone so long without that she had almost forgotten its allure.“Infected by witches.”

“I knew it,” Jana whispered as she clutched her crucifix. “I’ve witnessed Hunter Goode, one of the devil’s whores, practicing Satanism.”

She had been right about that girl. Of course, Jana had known what she’d seen, but enough people had said that she had a few screws loose that she had started to agree with them. Then Kirk Whitfield had told her the Goode twins, Hunter in particular, were evil—thatthey worshipped Satan—and now God Himself had chosen her to be His instrument and send that harpy back to the fiery pits of hell.

Amphitrite cocked her head and let out another sigh of sea mist as a thick tentacle slithered out from under her skirts and swept up to catch her crown before it slid from her wet hair. The Goodes’ magic was ancestral, in their blood, magic that came from this realm and this line of women, not Satan. But that was one of many things these non-magical bipeds would never understand.

“A means to an end,”she grumbled low enough not to be heard by Jana before clearing her throat.“Only someone like you—a true believer—can lead the charge and protect this town and the souls of those within it.”

Jana’s chin quivered and her eyes filled with another round of tears. God had led her here, to Julie, to this example of what would happen to them all if she didn’t follow His direction.

“Hunter Goode must be dealt with.”Amphitrite’s tentacle nestled her crown of starfish and seashells back against her hair and caressed her cheek before disappearing beneath the layers of her shimmering skirts.“Her sister, too.”

Jana patted her crucifix. “I pray for them every night, especially Hunter with her pentagrams and devil worship. Although, I suppose you being the Lord and all are already aware of my prayers.” Frowning, she brushed her dark hair from her face. “What more can I do? The town—” Sirens wailed in the distance as Jana slid her crucifix back and forth along its thin gold chain. “Oh, Holy Savior, they think I’m crazy. Barbara Ritter even offered me a Xanax when she saw me in the checkout line at the IGA.”

Amphitrite’s grin returned as the sirens grew nearer. The real fun was about to begin.“Do you have faith?”

“Of course,” Jana offered before even drawing a breath.

“Then leave the town to me. I shall show them the light.”

Goddess or not, had Jana Ashley been able to see Amphitrite’s sinister smile or heard her laugh like knives on glass, she would haveknown without a doubt that true evil smelled of the sea and had eyes the color of envy.

Gravel sprayed into the tall grasses as two bronze-and-white sheriff’s cruisers fishtailed into the small parking lot and skidded to a stop fifty yards from Jana, God, and the body of Julie Stoll. The ambulance wasn’t far behind, the piercing howl of its siren masking the sounds of squealing brakes, muffler coughs, and crunching gravel from the cars whose drivers had spotted the emergency vehicles and quickly changed course to follow.

There was a blur of activity as the beach was cordoned off and the EMTs raced to the shore, the crash cart digging deep tracks in the sand. Deputy Carter tucked his cowboy hat under his arm as he questioned Jana, and she answered, slowly and carefully, all the while searching the breeze for the voice of God, her mouth tasting like salt.

The small parking lot was nearly full, and a crowd had gathered at the edge of the grass, literal ambulance chasers, for there wasn’t much else to do in Goodeville than gawk at the fortune, or, in this case,misfortune of others. Their dramatically hushed whispers ofsomeone’s dead, another murder,andwhat’s this town coming to?spilled out onto the shore and swirled around Amphitrite.

The great goddess of the sea let out a wave of laughter like clanging metal as she descended upon the townsfolk. The air grew sticky with a layer of salt-tinged mist that settled like morning dew on top the grass while Amphitrite poured her wicked lies into the ears of the people of Goodeville. Most of them drank it up, thirsty for anywhere to put their fear, parched for a place to lay blame, but there were some who were not so needy, some who stood firmly and did not let the rising tide sweep them off their feet.

By the time Jax Ashley reached Goode Lake, the parking lot was full, and he had to park in the grass. He elbowed his way through the crowd, mist collecting on his skin like sweat and salt burning his eyes.

“It was the Goode girls,” one neighbor hissed as Jax pushed past on his way to his mother. “They’re what caused all of this.”

“Harlots!” said another. “The both of them.”

“Worse than that!” came a shout from the back followed by murmured agreements. “They’rewitches.”

Jax broke through the onlookers and charged toward his mother who sat with an EMT, her checkered blanket wrapped around her shoulders. He combed his hand through the salt-tinged moisture that beaded against his dark hair.