Free Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) by Jill Nojack

alarmed to see me. Or, more correctly, to see Cassie.
    "Hello Kevin, I have a proposition for you."
    His look changes from alarm to suspicion. "What kind of proposition?"
    "I need you to fill me in on what's been happening in Giles. There may also be some small favors to perform. In exchange, I'll make sure you are soon ensconced as high priest, as I told you I would when we made our previous arrangement."
    "I don't understand. What are you babbling on about? We're hardly on speaking terms. I've followed your rules. My father made sure of that. He won't let me break them any time soon."
    "You don't recognize me, dear? I'm Eunice."
    He narrows his eyes. "Eunice is dead."
    "Was dead. Look closer."
    "This is a trick. I'm not falling for it. Tom will pop out of the bushes any minute to pound the hell out of me for looking at you." He slams the door.
    Curious.
    Why would he mention Tom? Why would Cassie tell Kevin, of all possible confidantes, about her werecat housemate? What has she been up to? And how did she discover any of this, anyway?
    And I do want to get my nose into what's going on between Kevin and Robert. It intrigues me. I like a good intrigue. I like it even more when I can stir the pot. I do so love to see what's on the boil beneath the lid of any black kettle. It's often quite delicious.
    It's clear that Kevin is going to be of little use to me until I sort him out, and I haven't the time nor patience for that just now. I suppose I could prove I'm Eunice easily, but why bother? He would probably just end up being a liability again. Zelda and that slattern daughter of hers can help me just as well.
    Now, here's a thought: I was going to find a hobo or an orphan to provide a sacrifice during the quickening ritual. This feckless little man might be of use to me after all.

***
    "No, I'm not dead! Not anymore!" I slam the phone down. A good slam is the one benefit of an old-fashioned corded phone. So satisfying to have on hand when everyone you speak to is an idiot.
    I rush to collect a silk scarf for my trip. I rescued a few from the bottom of a drawer where I found some of Eunice's more valuable or memorable items of clothing—including the feather hats that Cat had so much difficulty staying away from. Suitably attired in a crisp suit with my hairstyle-preserving scarf tied just so and my makeup and powder impeccably applied, I head off down the sidewalk after locking the front door of the shop behind me.
    When Zelda opens the door, she looks like she's seen a ghost. Now, that's more like it. I must be projecting an increased aura of the old me now.
    "Let me in," I say, coldly. "Right this minute."
    "Of course. I…I…do come in."
    She steps aside, and I head for her shabby living room. I had no idea she lived this way. No wonder she was so hungry for any scrap I could give her. Her home screams ready-to-assemble.
    At her insistence, I perch on the edge of her suspicious-smelling couch next to a big calico. I'm sure one of the outcomes of my visit will be flea bites, but I need to find out what happened when I was gone. I can't continue forward in the dark.
    I feel myself glowering. I try to relax and present a more appealing appearance. "First things first—let me assure you that although I look like Cassie, and the rest of the town will know me as Cassie, I'm very much your old friend, Eunice. You know I am. I could see it in your eyes."
    "I…you…" She gapes and hems and haws.
    I lean in closer, conspiratorial now. "Do you remember when dear Dora came down with that nasty case of pregnancy just as her rich and celibate boyfriend was ready to propose?"
    Her eyes widen. She's catching on.
    "I did her such a nice service with my potion, didn't I?"
    "Yes, you did."
    "Go on then, say my name."
    "Yes, you did," she says, then continues with emphasis, "Eunice. But how…"
    "How have I ever done anything? With a strong will and a huge amount of power. Now, fetch me tea. Then call that useless daughter of yours and