How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) Willow Mason (inspiring books for teens .txt) 📖

Jared’s cheeks flushed with colour, the bright red extending up to the tips of his ears.

I calculated there were another seven minutes to go until Andrew’s scheduled reappearance. While I shared a pot of coffee with Pru in the kitchen, Jared cleared the dining room of any obvious weapons. The stark appearance, compared to the knick-knacks piled in every other room of the house, made my heartbeat tick high in my throat.

A small kiwi popped out of the wall clock, announcing its nine o’clock call. I straightened my back, catching Patrick’s eye as we counted down the seconds.

At five minutes past, I released a long breath. “Well, it appears we might have—”

“What are you doing here? I told you to catch my killer. DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT ME AT ALL?”

“We did catch your killer,” I said, nodding to Pru whose face was streaming with tears.

“Solomon Armstrong was the man responsible,” she said, pressing a hand to her abdomen as Andrew’s face turned thunderous. “He handed himself in to the police, this morning.”

It was as though the poltergeist couldn’t hear. “THERE’S A MURDERER ON THE LOOSE AND YOU’RE DOING NOTHING!!! WHAT IF HE STRIKES AGAIN? HOW WILL YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELVES?”

Pru struggled to swallow. “But Andrew, he’s not going to hurt anyone else. The whole thing was just a stupid accident. A prank gone wrong.”

“HOW CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?”

Andrew unleashed an anguished roar and overturned the table. Thanks to Jared’s planning, there was nothing on it to go flying, but the show of power was terrifying just the same.

“WE CAN’T JUST STAND BY. SOMETHING DREADFUL IS COMING? CAN’T YOU FEEL IT?”

“All we can feel now is you, mate.” Jared walked towards the apparition, hands out in an attempt at placation. “Calm down. Have the poltergeist equivalent of a bevvy, why don’t you?”

Andrew span in place for a full minute, making me dizzy. He then hurled himself at the wall, giving a yell of fury as he passed through it. A clatter sounded from the next room over, then he reappeared, clutching a hairbrush in one hand and a mirror in the other.

“Now’s hardly the time to take up hairdressing.” Jared tried to pluck the silver-backed mirror from the poltergeist but howled with pain as he made contact.

Real silver, then.

In a breath, Jared changed. His shoulders hunched as he grew taller, the hairs sprouting on his back brushing against the stippled ceiling. His jaw elongated as his mouth crowded with teeth.

Great. Our monster tally doubled in a second.

“Don’t hurt him,” Pru yelled, clutching at her face.

“He’s dead.” Patrick’s voice was tight as the muscles in his neck stood out in sharp relief. “What more hurt can be done to him?”

Jared growled, the sound making my insides clench as hard as a fist. I’d only seen him in this state once before—an interaction that had caused me to flee our years-long relationship as though it was a one-night stand.

Andrew had power. Jared had strength.

Patrick held out his machine, tilting his head to listen more closely as it tittered out a stream of beeps and clicks. “The reading is off the charts,” he muttered, pulling a plastic baggie from his back pocket. A vial nestled inside, and he held it up, tugging the cork stopper out of it with his teeth.

“Both of you back down or I’ll hit you with this,” he shouted, holding the unimpressive container aloft.

Jared’s head swung towards him, eyes glowing and his teeth multiplying in a ferocious grin.

Andrew rushed forward, pushing the werewolf while his attention was diverted. “Doesn’t look good for you, little doggie.” He smacked him with the side of the hand mirror, making Jared shiver as his cold non-flesh passed through him.

“It doesn’t look good for either of you.” Patrick shook his hand, letting some of the liquid spill out of the vial. “This is holy water. Neither of you stands a chance against it.”

The two monsters froze, Jared being the first to burst into laughter. He clutched his sides as the fit took him over. The same way I remembered him watching a rerun of the office. The British version.

“What?”

The poltergeist dropped his hairstyling weapons to the floor, shoulders shaking. “You mean water, don’t you? Just water that’s been babbled at by a—a what? A priest? A minister? An old man in a back alley who told you what he wanted you to hear?”

“It’s the most—”

“No. Don’t sprinkle me with tap water,” Jared cried out before howling with laughter again. “It burns. It burns.” He mimed writhing while his body shrank back to its normal size. “Or rather, it really really really helps with burns.”

Patrick shrivelled under their combined mockery, turning aside so their barbs could land on his broad shoulders.

“Hey, leave off, will you?” I said when their behaviour became too obnoxious to stand for another minute. “It’s a pretty common thing to believe.”

“You’re lucky most of your cases up to now have been nutjobs rather than honest to goodness supernaturals.” Jared wiped a hand over his face, smothering a chuckle to death before it could get hold. “Meet one of my pack in a back alley on a bad day and they’d tear you to pieces.”

“A threat that doesn’t make you superior to anyone.” I crossed my arms and turned to Andrew. “And if you’ve finished making fun of my partner, could you fill us in on your so-called murderer? Solomon played a prank, sure, but he’s hardly a danger to anyone else.”

“Well, someone is.” The poltergeist swelled as his anger returned. “I know what called me back to this place and it wasn’t a slap on the wrist type of event.” His body rippled and contorted, a swirling maelstrom taking over the centre of his torso. “A KILLER IS ON THE LOOSE.”

Pru stepped forward as I retreated, flinching. “You mean it could be someone else who was murdered?” She snapped her fingers as Andrew twisted and writhed, growing larger by the second. “Concentrate!”

Andrew collapsed to