by Colleen Foley
“Yeah?” Jimmy’s voice on the phone and the throaty growl of my car’s engine soothed me.
“Listen,
I’m on my way to you. Seth’s gone totally Witches of Eastwick on me.
Complete with carving some crazy swag shaped symbol into his palm and
this weird-ass book I can’t read. I need help.”
“That dumbass! What d’ya wanna do?”
“Convert him back. Burn him alive. Don’t know. I need answers.”
*sigh* “When you gettin’ here?”
“Tomorrow noon.”
“Nate, where’s your brother?”
“Out cold on the hotel room floor. He had a little…mishap.”
I hung up and gunned the engine harder.
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