The Accidental Familiar (Accidentals #14)

“No!” January howled, grabbing Nina’s arm and spinning her around. “This doesn’t call for brawn, Nina. It calls for magic. I don’t know what’s happening or why, but if you walk into something with bad magic meant to harm, your fists won’t save you! Now I need you all to listen to me. Everyone hold hands. Calamity, Rick, we need a revocation spell. I can’t do it alone, Rick. So wind up, buddy, and use that magic!”


As they all held hands, bowing their heads into the raging wind, Calamity on Rick’s shoulder, he closed his eyes and began to chant the spell with January with only one thought in mind.

Get to Poppy.



There was no slipping past Avis through the front doors, but as she turned to run back up the stairs and bust a window in order to possibly jump to safety, Avis called out to her. “Don’t bother, darling. There’s no way out.”

No way out?

“Yes, you heard me right, Poppet. I’ve put a spell on you,” he sang, his giggle ringing in her ears. “You can’t get out, and no one else can get in. You can try of course, but your efforts will be wasted.”

So she was either going to blow up with him—which was ludicrous because why did someone as bloated with ego like Avis have a death wish—or actually have to find the balls to confront him and try and stop him.

Which meant it was go big or go home.

And as she watched him push three of the pillars together to form an almost square, knowing this meant something dreadful, at least if she was judging by the screaming protest of her belly, Poppy made her move.

“Avis?”

His blond head whipped upward, and he squinted into the dark, but then he smiled that brilliantly perfect smile, the one with subtext evil written all over it. “Did I mention how glad I am you’ve joined me? Not that you had actually had a choice.”

“A choice?” He’d zapped her here? What happened to the warlocks had weak magic rule?

“How do you suppose you got here? Me, of course! I’ve been practicing my spells like a good chap for a very long time,” he said on a sadistic chuckle. “You’ll want to stick around anyway. This should really be something for a first-timer like you.”

Licking her lips, she stayed in the shadows, waiting for the right moment. Maybe he was just bluffing about this spell? “Where’s Rick, Avis?”

Scratching his head, he sighed forlornly. “I don’t know if you don’t know, darling. But he doesn’t really matter tonight.”

Her skin crawled at his use of the endearment, but she needed to know what was happening—what he was doing here. “Shouldn’t you be hitting the road? Isn’t this place going to blow soon?”

His laughter filled the entryway, bouncing off the marble tile. “Oh, indeed, it’s assuredly going to blow. Just not in quite the way you think, sweet girl.”

Okay. He was stark raving banana pants, and she wanted out. Turning to make a break for the stairs again, she rammed right into an invisible wall, cracking her head. Ignoring the sting, Poppy reached out and attempted to penetrate the darkness of the stairwell only to find her hand smacking against something hard and cold.

“I did tell you there was no way out, didn’t I, Poppet?”

The moment Avis said the words was the moment she felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. Something seared her from the inside out, hot and plodding its merry way to another one of those demonic pukes.

Gripping the corner of the wall, she waited until the pain passed and managed to grit out, “Why are you here, Avis?”

Straightening his spine, he squared his shoulders and leaned an elbow on one of the pillars. “Because I have to be here, pretty lady. Tonight’s the night.”

“For?” she croaked.

“For the main event, of course. It’s the blood moon, Poppy. Even though you’re new to this, surely someone’s told you the power tonight has. It isn’t just Samhain, it’s Samhain plus.”

Right, right, right. The blood moon lifted some veil, bad things could happen. Sometimes it opened portals. Call ghostbusters.

Oh.

Oh, oh, oh. Without knowing how or why Poppy made a connection. Avis was a bad dude. A bad warlock dude. Bad warlock dudes probably liked to do bad things—maybe they even liked to do them with bad spirits. Bad spirits wanted into this world. Tonight, with it not only being Samhain but the blood moon, it was like bad spirit spring break, and she’d bet her eyeballs Avis had bought a ticket.

As the realization hit her, so did the agonizing return of the pain in her belly, a sure sign she was on to something. She was right. She didn’t know the details, but she knew she was right.

Gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to double over, Poppy asked, “What’s the main event, Avis?”

He clucked his tongue. “First, why not come out of there, Poppy. You’re too pretty to let anyone put Baby in the corner,” he teased, motioning she should join him. “Second, the main event is your death. Among other things.”

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