“We have murders, magical crimes, theft, abuse of power.” Millie ticked them off on her fingers. “We’re practically an evil enclave.”

“That girl is the head of the coven,” I said. “Taking the role seriously is a good quality.”

"Tiddlywinks?" I repeated. "Isn't that a children's game?" Agnes smiled, revealing her crooked teeth. "Not the way we play it." I groaned. No more questions about tiddlywinks.

I arched an eyebrow. "Potential for what?" Agnes smiled. "Mischief and mayhem, of course.”

“Agnes, don’t say things like that,” I said hotly. As annoying as Agnes could be, I preferred her alive. She was like a member of the family to me—a member of the family I avoided at holidays by reading in my room.

He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t in the staffroom. I was on the other side of the door.” “Doing what?” I could tell by his expression that he’d been up to no good. Typical Silas. “That’s irrelevant,” he said.

It took every ounce of self-restraint not to jump him right then and there. Patience was a virtue, but even I had my limits.

“Try to relax,” she said. “You don’t want to suffer a heart attack before you even begin. I only know that you shouldn’t expect a—what is the human expression—a walk in the park. Nothing worth anything is easy. I’m sorry. I wish I could offer more.”

I walked up the steps to the front porch and banged on the huge brass knocker in the shape of a bird with breasts. They weren’t subtle about their natures, those harpies.

If there was one thing being the defense attorney in Spellbound had taught me, it was that things were not necessarily what they seemed.

“Losing a parent is tough,” the neighbor said. “And she’d already lost her mom. Even as an adult, knowing you’re an orphan is hard to process.”

"If there's one thing I learned since my murder," Gareth began, "it's to expect the unexpected."