AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Who treats me like I’m a joke,” I snap. “I’m not even a real member.”
The broomstick dips as we travel over a lake whose still waters reflect the moon. Something about the vapor over such a large body of water makes it impossible to fly both at high altitude and at full speed.
I exhale a long breath. “All my life, I’ve never had a person of my own.”
“What about Grandma?”
“She was always busy with coven business, managing the apothecary chain, brewing, volunteering, and reading. I was just an afterthought.”
Aggie remains silent. I’m not sure if that’s because she feels bad that I didn’t grow up with a mother or even a friendly aunt. At least she’s stopped judging me for having feelings for the Boogie Man.
“But he’s so vicious,” Aggie mutters.
“He’s spent centuries thirsting for revenge. After everything that happened to him, I’m not surprised he lashed out. But he should never have attacked you with his claws.”
Magic crackles over my skin as we pass the wards. It’s the slightest resistance because I am powerless. The reminder that I’m no longer a witch hits me like a punch to the gut.
I slump forward, trying to hold back a surge of anguish. Now is not the time for self-pity. I have a Boogie Man to rescue.
The plan I formulated is shitty but it’s the best I can do without a scrap of magic. Sneak into the ritual room with grandma’s relaxation bombs, crush them underfoot, and put everyone to sleep. Since I’m practically a human, it will make me the last one standing.
Over two dozen broomsticks hover at the bottom of grandma’s steps, signifying just how many witches I need to bypass to reach the Boogie Man.
Aggie parks hers over the stairs and walks along the procession of broomsticks.
My gaze darts toward the house, and bile rises to the back of my throat. The Boogie Man is downstairs probably screaming as they sacrifice him to fix my mistake. He returned from banishment and risked everything to save my life. I need to get to him. Now.
“Ali,” Aggie snaps.
“What?”
I turn to find my cousin standing at the back of the broomsticks with her wand pointing at my throat.
She bares her teeth. “If you so much as duck out of helping me—”
“No, I wasn’t trying to,” I lie. “Which one is yours?”
“Him.” She points at the only broomstick edging toward the path of stepping stones.
I dismount and jog after my cousin. “Have you given him a name?”
“Something like that,” she mutters.
The broomstick backs away from her, looking like Grandma’s wards are doing an excellent job of keeping Aggie from reclaiming her property. I shake my head and reach for it’s shaft, which doesn’t flinch from my touch.
It’s warmer than the average piece of magical wood and thrums with a vitality that was lacking in the broomstick we rode.
I squeeze tighter, and the shaft shudders under my touch. It almost feels like it has circulation.
“Bring it here,” Aggie says.
My skin prickles into goosebumps. “That stuff you said earlier about turning men into dildos—was that true?”
“What? No,” she snaps. “Of course not.”
Aggie reaches into the pocket of her dress and throws a lasso at the broomstick, but a sphere of magic flares up, and the rope slides to the ground.
“Help me,” she says.
