How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) by Willow Mason (great novels txt) 📕

“We need more.”

I cast a bolt of magic into their swirling centre, shielding my eyes as it exploded into light. Each witch and familiar in turn gave up what they could, adding to the power.

Another bird was dragged into the whirlwind, and another, and another. My cries of victory turned to distress as they fought against the current and ascended. Once again, they joined to turn into the loose form of a man.

Their caws grew in volume, coming in fast on top of each other until my ears defined them as words.

“You can’t stop me. It’s my time again. This town is MINE!!!”

The ugly sounds made my eardrums recoil. I tried to summon another burst of magic—something, anything—but my well was dry.

“You want to know what’s mine, Benedict? The amulet. My engagement present.”

Scarlett shoved her face near mine again, her eyes large enough to fit my entire body. “Give it to me. Throw it as hard as you can.”

Annalisa ran to my side. <Into him. Throw it into him.>

I plucked the stone from the ground, surprised at its warmth. The shape fitted neatly into the palm of my hand.

Lining up the shot, I drew my arm back, my thumb tracing out the engraved crow on the porous surface. “Bigger,” I chanted under my breath, hoping some trace of magic lingered. “Make it the biggest it can be.”

I catapulted it forward, releasing at the perfect point in the swing so it hurtled into the grotesque murder of crows, cawing their defiance.

The amulet hit them dead centre, exploding into a ball of light, flame, and feathers. In a split second, they were sucked out of existence, Andrew and Scarlett imploding until nothing remained.

With a whimper, I patted my body, checking it still had all the appropriate bits and pieces. “Is everyone okay?”

“Okay? No,” my aunt said. “Alive. Yes.”

“Well done, Desdemona.” The supreme’s voice was shaken but strong. “We’ll keep you on.” She swung in a circle. “Well done, all of you.”

Patrick’s phone warbled and he fished it out. Between the skintight jeans and his trembling fingers, it took some manoeuvring. “Hey, Wes. Is everything all right?”

My phone rang, joining Patrick’s. I answered, not recognising the number. “Desdemona? It’s Carson. I…” He gulped, swallowing so loudly the phone’s mic picked it up. “Evie and Violet. They called me.” This time he burst into relieved tears. “They’re back.”

Chapter Nineteen

“That’s the third paying customer today,” Wes whispered to me as Jac finished up at the counter. “To give you some perspective, we’ve now got larger receipts for this morning than we had all of last week.”

I thought of the cheque sitting untouched in my office drawer. Perhaps this month I could splurge on letterhead stationery. Or a Netflix subscription.

“Spending it already, are you?” Patrick said, nudging my side. “I can read your face like a book. You know, if we do ever get the chance to present that cheque, we probably owe Jared something from it.”

“Despite his loud and continual opposition to the idea.”

“Or because of it.” Patrick smiled. “There might be some substance to that reverse psychology, after all.”

“Speak of the devil…”

Jared entered the store, sporting an enormous grin. He was far enough from the full moon that his facial hair had settled down to manageable human size; his beard retreating to show the hard line of his jaw.

At the counter, he came to an abrupt halt. “Hey. Wasn’t expecting to see you two here.” He sidled back a step.

Wes winked at me. “Now you’re scaring away potential customers. We just can’t get a break.”

“We’re going,” Patrick said. “There’s a load of paperwork I need to send through to the paranormal society if I want to keep my licence up to date.”

I snorted. “You know our supreme doesn’t care about that sort of thing.”

“Sure, Briarton is lax but other towns still need reassurance that I know what I’m doing. Humans contracting out my services are already freaked out. They don’t need a lapsed PI number to add to their worries.”

Other towns? But we’d only just set up shop together. My mind stuttered to a halt.

“Thinking of moving on, are you?” Jared put a hand on my back as he joined us. “Don’t blame you. After Auckland, this place can feel pretty cramped.”

“No, I—”

Pru walked inside and whatever Patrick had been about to say stopped. She did a double-take, then wandered over, waving hello to Jac on the way past. “Is this a private meeting or can anyone join?”

Jared’s hand dropped from my back and he gave her a welcome kiss on the cheek. “You took your time. How far away can you park when there are no other vehicles on the street?”

She blushed and glanced back over her shoulder. “I got caught up outside the realtor’s office. There’s a nice property there in my price range.”

“The bazillionaire options?”

“Don’t tease. I’m well-off not wealthy. I’d have to kill off a few more husbands to get into that price range.”

My eyes widened in shock at her banter and Pru suddenly appeared unsure. “That was just a joke,” she hastened to add, rubbing at her temple. “I’m not used to being in social situations. I need to relearn how not to put my foot in my mouth.”

“Sorry, that’s my bad. I’m used to seeing you…” My words dried up as my mind fumbled to think what it had been trying to say.

“Without a poltergeist screaming in the background?” Patrick suggested. “I take it your morning visitations are at an end.”

Pru nodded, her eyes glinting for a second before she tipped her head back and the threatening tears obeyed gravity. “It’s strange. I thought I’d miss him, but knowing the whole apparition was just accidental made it a lot easier to let Andrew go.”

“I’m glad.” Patrick pressed a hand to the side of her arm. “You deserve a fresh start.”

“Oh.” She opened her bag, pulling out a letter. “Solomon Armstrong sent me this. It’s an explanation of his actions and an apology.”