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His eyes narrowed. “That’s a bluff. She hasn’t been here in years.”
“Years mean nothing to her. Besides, it’s no fun hassling you from the windows.” She put on her best pleading face, as though she hadn’t threatened his life only a week ago.
A week of following the witch to and from his one evening class then staring through the window like some sad puppy looking for a home while he twiddled endlessly at his computer. It was the most boring week of her life, and she was now convinced that Hannah was just being paranoid when she’d assigned Ashley to keep an eye on him. The witch did nothing with his life. Even when she yelled through the window, demanding he be more exciting, the most she could get out of him was a glower and an extra burst of his annoying magic for her troubles. She’d entertained herself by singing show tunes and tapping on his windows until he growled and sulked upstairs where she couldn’t follow him. Hannah’s request to be subtle no longer seemed important when she was so bored.
“Are you kidding me?” There was that higher register in his voice that was her daily goal to reach. She didn’t even bother hiding her smile. “Are you planning on trying to kill me?”
“I wouldn’t try. I woulddo. Do or do not, and all that jazz.” She added jazz hands to emphasize her point.
“As Yoda sagely proclaimed.” He opened the door farther and turned back inside. “Fine, you can come in, but take off your shoes and don’t touch anything.”
“Yay,” she trilled, following after him and kicking her shoes at the corner just to watch him cringe as they smacked the ugly blue wallpaper. She hadn’t expected demanding entry to work. Maybe all that singing had finally worn him down.
“I regret this already.” He sighed, snapping his fingers to turn on the lights in the next room.
“The light switch was literally right next to you.” She pushed the off button, demonstrating her point.
“Hey!” He snapped the light back on again. “What did I say about touching things? That’s an antique.”
“They’re all antiques.” She flailed her arms, indicating the room at large. “You literally live in an antique.”
“That’s why you can’t touch any of it. Do you want me to rescind your invitation? It’ll be entertaining to see you magically flung from here.”
“Is that a thing?” Ashley paused mid-tapping a portrait of a tightly buttoned woman with a cat on her lap to lay slightly askew. She checked his expression for sincerity.
“Care to find out?”
She thought about it. Being magically flung sounded pretty cool, but something told her he wouldn’t try it. Whatever changed his mind about letting her in wasn’t going to change in the first five minutes. To be nice, she played along, opening her eyes wide and blinking playfully, the picture of innocence. He scoffed and took a seat in his gaudy sitting room.
“So why do you live in an antique anyway?” Her fingers trailed along a console, leaving a line in the thin layer of dust.
“Easy. My parents retired to Florida and left me the house since I’m the only Platt left in town.” He shifted Cat Lady back into a mostly straight alignment.
Ashley moved on to a bowl of glass fruit, picking up and inspecting each one individually. “Yeah, but you could move. Sell this place and get your own wherever you want, with light switches and doorbells from this century.”
He looked at her like she’d suggested dancing naked in the street. “This is a bicentennial house. A historical landmark.”
“I didn’t suggest murder.” She realized she was shaking a banana at him and put it back.
“Hey, August,” called a voice from upstairs. “I think I found your weird cookbook.”
The stairs creaked with the familiar sound of someone descending, and a tingling sensation like magic coursed down Ashley’s spine and through her fingertips in anticipation. She knew today was Esther’s work day, but in the past, she always stayed in the attic. Should Ashley leave and avoid her? She glanced to August and a look of panic crossed his face. Something was afoot. Well, she had to stay to find out what that was about. Was Hannah actually right about him?
They both called up the stairs, yelling over each other.
“What cookbook?”
“Wait there. I’ll be up in a sec.”
Ashley met August’s gaze for a split second before darting for the steps. Vampire speed and the fact she was standing gave her the obvious advantage. But she only made it to the bottom step before her ankle snapped out of place, and she tumbled to all fours. The damn witch had dislocated her ankle. August tried to climb past her, but she grabbed his leg and pulled him down. He wasn’t getting by that easily.
“Dammit, witch,” she said. “What are you hiding?”
“Let me go!”
“Are you two okay?” Esther stood on the landing, a large leatherbound book tucked under her arm, staring down at them like they’d both lost their marbles. Her gaze snagged a second longer on Ashley, sprawled across the stairs.
Ashley pulled August’s body in front of her while she snapped her ankle back in place with a pop. “Perfectly fine.” Speaking over the sound of her ankle snapping into its socket, she ground her teeth into a smile to hide the pain. “What have you got there?”
