Spells Trouble by Kristin Cast (mystery books to read .txt) 📕

Bursts of light flashed across Hunter’s vision as Polyphemus pressed his weight against the hand still clutching her throat. The blue air coated Hunter’s skin as she clawed his thick wrist. A chill tickled her spine and a woman’s laughter slipped through Hunter’s ears like the tongue of a snake.

Merry meet, Hunter Goode. Amphitrite’s voice was like smoke, everywhere and nowhere. I accept your offering, my child.

Ice speared Hunter’s chest. She looked down at the blue light shining through her. Amphitrite’s slender arm reached out from Hunter’s sternum like a spear. The goddess’s laughter was a shrieking train as she grabbed Polyphemus. She sank her pointed nails into his forearm. The same blue light that shone from her skin and coated the air seeped up Polyphemus’s arm. He ceased his screams and blindly blinked at Hunter. His skull, slick with blood and melted flesh, glowed as the blue light spread from one side of his body to the other.

Tartarus hath no fury like a goddess scorned. Amphitrite yanked Polyphemus’s arm, and he passed through Hunter’s chest as the goddess ripped him from Goodeville and cast him back into the Greek Underworld.

They vanished. Hunter fell to her knees in a fit of coughs. She sucked in air as the blue light receded back into the gate.

You are mine, now, Hunter Goode. Amphitrite’s voice faded as the warm dark night retook the field.

Soft blades poked Hunter’s sliced palm as she crawled through the trampled grass toward the flashlight. Her chest quaked with the memory of the otherworldly magic that had cut through her. She fumbled with the heavy flashlight and forced her legs underneath her. Her hand shook and the beam of light wavered as she guided it down the street until it landed on Sheriff Dearborn’s car. She stumbled into a run. The dome lights clicked on as she opened the passenger door. Amber light poured onto her, dirt-streaked and blood-crusted, as she swiped her phone off the dash.

With trembling hands, she dialed her sister’s number. Hunter barely heard Mercy’s voice over the echo of Amphitrite’s words.

You are mine, now, Hunter Goode.

Epilogue

Hunter sat in the cool shadows that the palm fronds cast onto the grass. When they’d all decided to spend the afternoon at the park, she’d silently cheered. Writing outside was so much better than writing inside. But in the rush to get out of the house, she’d forgotten her journal. The worst part was that she knew exactly where it was. She closed her eyes and glided through her front door, past the living room, and into the kitchen. There it was. On top of the forgotten cooler full of seltzer and the pee-yellow tea Mag brewed and insisted tasted just like green gummy bears.

Jax’s foot bumped Hunter’s as he maneuvered out of the tree’s shadows and back into the sun. Beside her, he closed his eyes, his lashes nearly dusting his round cheeks, and resumed tossing the football from one hand to the other while Emily and Mercy shook with girlish giggles. From now on, every day would be like this. Every day would be simple.

With an eruption of laughter, Emily threw her head back. She nearly toppled over onto the red-and-white-checkered blanket she had brought from home. She fanned her face and insisted Mercy, “Stop playing.”

Hunter plucked a white clover flower and rolled the stem between the thumb and forefinger of her bandaged hand. Clover dotted the grass like patches of green fog. When the rains left and the summer sun arrived, the clover would be the only lush green in the entire park. She dusted her chin with the puffy flowers. That’s what this field should be. Clover. A big, fluffy, green mattress of clover that stretched from the palm tree all the way to the playground. Hunter’s neck ached as she leaned over and dropped the flower on Jax’s stomach while children’s laughter drifted on the breeze like faraway church bells. The scene was postcard perfect.

Hunter instinctively ran her fingertips along her sternum where Tyr’s pendant had once been. Where Amphitrite had reached through her. She swallowed and dropped her hand into her lap. Well, the scene was almost perfect.

Mercy leapt to her feet and bounded over to Jax. “Go long!” she shouted as she stole the football and ran toward the playground. Mercy had finally gotten rid of Kirk, but no one could get rid of football.

Jax popped up. The clover flew off his shirt and landed next to Hunter’s wounded hand.

Mercy jumped up and down and triumphantly waved the ball overhead. “You, too, H!” she called and added a butt wiggle to her victory dance.

Jax tapped Hunter’s foot with his own. “Up and at ’em … or is it Adam?” He jutted his chin and scratched his sideburn.

Emily leaned back onto her elbows and cocked her head. “But who’s Adam?”

“Hey!” Hunter practically heard her sister stomp her foot as Mercy cupped her hand around the side of her mouth. “You guys are taking a million years!”

With a groan, Hunter picked up the flower and got to her feet. “Doesn’t Em have to play?” She tried to hide how much her muscles still ached and how much tension now hung in the air between her and her sister.

Emily scooped Mercy’s giant bag onto her lap and fished out a pair of paisley-rimmed sunglasses. “I’ll be the referee.” She slid on the glasses and set Mercy’s purse back on the blanket. “Or the cheerleader.” She crossed one ankle over the other and pointed and flexed her toes. “Whichever one makes it so that I don’t have to get up.”

Hunter yipped as Jax launched into the air and his hip smashed into her. The sudden thwack of the ball against the tree was the perfect sound effect to Hunter’s crash onto the grass. This time, she couldn’t hide her pain.

Mercy rushed to her. “Sorry!” she squeaked, her shadow merging with the one the palms cast across the grass.

Jax offered Hunter his hand and pulled