Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (reading books for 4 year olds TXT) 📕

you from Kadar, and he needs to keep thinking that or he’ll run faster than a cheetah on steroids. Plus, we need a djinn to undo said poisonous djinn curse, or all this will be pointless, and I’ll be nailed to the wall and sliced up like a Christmas ham.”

“What did he just say?!” Santana’s voice came through the speaker, nearly taking out my eardrum. “You better hope I heard you wrong, Finch Merlin. You’re not pulling us into more crap, I swear to Chaos. We just escaped a bucket of crazy!”

Raffe sighed. “Sorry, Finch, I shouldn’t have put you on speaker.”

In the famous words of Winnie-the-Pooh—oh, bother. “How far away are you? And what bucket of crazy?”

“We were about to use a chalk door when you called, but it won’t open to the Winchester House,” Raffe explained. “I might’ve gotten the directions wrong. As for the crazy, I’ll explain when I see you.”

“Stay on the line—I’m going to try something.” Setting the phone down, I glanced around the bathroom, with its sickly lime walls and unsettling stains. “Mary? Are you there?”

I’d forgotten the defense protocols on this place. Trying to chalk-door to this house without Melody Winchester was like trying to break into Fort Knox with a toothpick. Strangers without an invite were instantly rebuffed. Sort of like a coven register.

Mary floated through the wall moments later, looking sheepish. “Before you jump to conclusions, I must insist that I was not eavesdropping, nor was I attempting anything voyeuristic. Cecily forbade me from speaking with any male fleshy, unless they speak to me first. As you have called me, I have merely answered.” She hesitated. “Although, perhaps you would do me the kindness of not mentioning this to Cecily, if you happen to see her? She has become quite the tyrant, when all I have done is compliment the true ancestor of the Winchester line upon his charming suits. They make him look like a teddy bear.” She giggled and quickly covered her mouth, as if Cecily might hear.

“Well, I’m pleased to see you. I thought you’d skipped town.” I smiled up at her.

“Your colloquialisms are as baffling as ever, my sweet Finch, but I have missed them so.” She swept closer, her hands clasped to her breast. “Now, why did you call? Did you simply wish to converse, or is it about that beastly contraption?” She eyed the cell phone on the toilet lid.

“Sadly, it’s the beastly contraption, but that’s nothing against you. I really did wonder where you were, and I was disappointed when you didn’t come to say hey. Not that you’d ever say ‘hey.’”

“That warms my cold, dead heart.” She sighed.

“What are friends for?” I replied, pleased to cheer her up a bit. “I’d flatter you more, but we need to get down to business. Do you think you could open a little pocket in the interdimensional bubble for a couple seconds, to let my friends through? They’re good folks, and I can vouch for them. I just need a word with them before I take them through to Melody and everyone.”

Mary’s eyes shimmered with sadness. “Because of the dying one?”

“Dying one?”

“The one in the checkered shirt, with the rather pleasing physique and alarming hair.” Mary smiled. “He does not look old, and yet his hair is silver. Most peculiar, but then so many youthful creatures color their hair all sorts of bizarre shades these days. I have seen at least one tourist enter the house with green hair! Green! Can you fathom it?”

“Unfortunately, I can fathom it. I bet you never saw any green hair in your day, eh, Miss Foster? Except in a freakshow maybe, which probably isn’t much different to what you saw. But yes, it’s because of the silver-haired one.” I paused. “Wait, you can tell he’s dying?”

She nodded slowly. “All those near their end are marked, though the living cannot see it. Do you intend to remove that mark? Oh, I do hope so. It would be a grave pity, most literally, to see such a specimen taken in his prime.”

“You’re making me jealous here, Miss Foster.” I chuckled. “But yeah, we’re planning to help him. Firstly, however, I need to speak to my friends. Can you do that for me?”

She tilted her head. “You wish me to open a ‘pocket,’ as you say, for a few seconds?”

“Just long enough to open and close a chalk door.”

“That is well within my capabilities, Mr. Merlin. Why, anyone would think I were a dolt, from the way you ask so tentatively.” She flashed a mischievous glance before floating to the wall and pressing her palms to it. “I shall enact your request upon your say-so. Would you like to convey the message through that ghastly object, to give your friends due warning?”

“You’re an eagle among pigeons, Miss Foster.”

She frowned. “Does that mean yes?”

“It does. Sorry.” I swiped up the phone and snapped a picture of the bathroom before sending it to Raffe. “Okay, I’ve sent a picture of where you need to go. Draw the chalk door now. I’m in the men’s bathroom on the ground floor, and you need to open it on the far wall, in the photo.”

“If this works, we’ll be with you soon,” Raffe replied. I heard scraping on the other end of the line and nodded to Mary so she could put her spook magic to work. Her palms pressed into the wall, making the sheen of the interdimensional bubble buckle and fizz as it bent to the forcefield. A second later, a doorway appeared, and in walked Raffe and Santana.

The latter wasted no time handing me my ass on a silver platter. “Are you whacked out of your loaf, Finch? You can’t trick some guy into giving his blood, and you can’t use Raffe in your little subterfuge. Especially when his curse is the one curse, apparently, that nobody can do anything about! Which I don’t mind, by the way, but I wish people would stop mentioning