Free Anna's Hope Episode One by Odette C. Bell Page A

probably
broken them all. Evil, after all, so did love the dark.
    “Ah,” she turned her sleepy head around,
“that one.” She stabbed a finger at house 666.
    Scott spluttered. “You’re joking
right?”
    “Nope.” She flattened her hand down her
face and blinked wearily.
    “What on earth are you doing living there?
That’s got to be one of the dingiest, darkest, evilest abodes I’ve
seen around Marchtown – and that’s saying something.”
    “I kind of signed the lease without having
seen it first. I’ve already paid the first month’s rent, too, and I
don’t have enough to move somewhere else. I’m stuck with
it.”
    Scott shot her a look, but she couldn’t
see it properly in the dark. “You’re not very lucky, are you,
Anna?”
    “Nope,” she agreed as she opened the gate.
It creaked and groaned, exactly like a zombie rising from its grave
rather than some hinges that needed a good oiling.
    She mooched up to the front door, ignoring
the distinctly evil clicking of a cricket. A few moths flew past
her nose, and she swore they flapped curses her way with their tiny
silver wings.
    She hated this place. Still, it had a bed,
and she needed her bed more than anything right now.
    She walked up the front steps and opened the
door.
    “You don’t keep it locked?” Scott asked as
he trotted up beside her. “That’s brave. A place like this would be
a magnet for every evil bozo in the city. You’d return home to find
them squatting in your basement.”
    “I don’t need to lock it – I have a cat.”
Anna massaged her neck as she walked in.
    Scott snorted. “Exactly what kind of cat
do you own?”
    “You’re about to find out.” Anna leaned to
her left and flicked on the light switch.
    The front door led right into a combined
lounge and kitchen.
    While this house was most definitely wicked,
it was still roomy.
    As soon as the light flickered on, it
revealed a regal, throne-like chair sitting in the middle of the
room, right in line-of-sight of the door. Luminaria was sitting on
top of it, Anna’s nicest silk scarf in tattered shreds at her
feet.
    “Oh really?” She groaned as she walked
forward and grabbed the scarf. “And I thought I told you not to
move the furniture around. It’s plain dangerous. I could walk into
that chair in the dark.”
    Luminaria shot her a dark look, her
whiskers straightening as she snarled. “You have no right to
lecture me, pup – you’re the one who’s been out all night. I am
hungry, and you have failed in your sacred duty to attend to my
needs.”
    Anna blew a breath of air against her
fringe, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a can of tuna, and opened
it.
    “Ah, you have a talking cat.” Scott, who
was apparently still in the house, made the fatal mistake of
walking up to Luminaria and trying to pat her. “She doesn’t look
that bad.”
    Luminaria straightened up, pulling her
head away like a dragon readying for a lunge. With her green-gold
eyes blazing, she hissed. “How dare you, mortal,” her voice rattled
and shook, “I don’t look that bad? I am the worst – the worst there
has ever been!”
    Scott wisely backed off, hiding his hand
protectively behind his back. “O-kay,” he said slowly.
    “Leave him alone, Luminaria. We’ve both
had a hard night.” Anna grabbed a plate from the cupboard and
upended the tuna onto it.
    “Hurry up, child,” Luminaria snapped. “And
don’t you dare think of feeding me without garnishing that dish.
There’s some dill in the garden. Go get it.”
    Anna groaned. She walked past Scott and
back out into the yard.
    Scott followed her out.
    She hadn’t bothered to turn on the porch
light, and nor did she have a torch. Rather than go inside and get
one, she just walked around in the dark, heading towards a likely
looking bush.
    “Ah, do you want a light?” Scott produced
a torch from somewhere and handed it to her. “I think you’ll be
less likely to trip over a garden demon in the dark if you