Owen slid from the truck, leaving the mimic remains behind while searching for Lilla. "Are you here? Lilla?" Leaning through the basement door, he waited for an answer.

"Do you think she's out?"

"Her car's here."

Footsteps thudded above us, and Owen turned to the stairs. She was descending with a yawn. "I was napping. I spent most of last night hunting. What are you doing here?"

"You've been sleeping up there?" Owen asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes. In a bed with fresh air, not in a basement on a couch. Is that a problem?"

He gawked at her for a second before waving. "No, of course not."

Lilla being up there bothered Owen, but I wouldn't question it now.

In the fading evening light, she didn't notice the blood and torn shirt until she came closer, squinting. "What happened? I thought you couldn't hunt on workdays."

"We weren't. Bash had to help his old track coach with something at the school, but he was a mimic, and it was a trap."

Her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed. "I suppose you killed another one without getting any information about Catriona?"

Owen gritted my teeth, but my voice was calm when he said, "There was no choice, Lilla. There were two of them, and they injured Bash in case you already forgot."

He pointed at the blood, and her expression softened. "I can help with that."

She came closer to wrap her hands around the wound, and we braced for the pain. The burning was intense but fast. Unfortunately, that was only my arm; she still had to do the rest. Owen peeled my shirt off and held his breath as her palms moved over the claw marks covering my torso.

When she finished, she stepped away. "That should do it. This is why you should run the body, though; in case you're surprised again. You're lucky you were in charge when you stumbled upon mimics."

Owen's anger flared in me. "Actually, I wasn't. Bash was. He was shocked and trapped, but he killed them both, including someone he thought of as a friend."

Her mouth fell open, but she stayed quiet.

I couldn't stop myself from piling on. "The only reason they even attacked me was that you yelled my name in the woods. So, if one of us is messing things up, it isn't me."

Guilt crossed her features, but she said nothing.

"This is the part where you apologize." Owen glared at her.

"Of course, you're right. Bash, I'm truly sorry, and it's impressive that you handled them on your own." The mocking tone that usually coated her words when she had to speak to me was gone. It sounded like a sincere apology.

Coach and the choice he'd forced me to make flashed in my mind. It wasn't really her fault. It's not like she sent them after me, but I wasn't ready to be friends, so I remained silent.

She cleared her throat. "I'll do whatever I can to help clean this up."

Owen said, "People will miss the coach, so we need a story. Did you recognize the other one, Bash?"

"No, I've never seen him before."

"Okay, we'll assume he was new. Do you have everything you need for the spell?" Owen asked Lilla.

She was already digging through the trunk that contained her things. When she finished, she tapped her lips, examining the items she'd piled on the floor in front of her—vials of different colored liquids and a burlap sack holding about a cup of something that smelled like we were driving past chicken coops. She nodded. "Except for the remains."

"They're in the truck," Owen said. "How long should this take?"

"It's been a while. I'll have to prepare, but I should finish by morning. They'll have to be burned and buried when I'm done to be sure they can't cause problems."

None of this was making sense. "Wait, what are you doing to his bones that'll help me?"

"I'll give them a story. Everyone who thinks of your coach will remember what I want them to, and nothing else."

"What kind of story?"

"I'll keep it simple." She pulled her hair into a ponytail as she spoke. "He moved over the summer, and no one will have the urge to speak to him."

"You can do that?"

"Of course." She shrugged.

"That's scary."

"Don't worry, dear. We may not be buddies, but we're on the same side. I'll keep you safe."

"Gee, thanks," I said, making Owen chuckle.

Lilla turned to leave, but Owen stopped her. "Speaking of keeping him safe, I need you to place a protection spell on his home so they can't find it."

She scoffed. "I already have one on this house. I can't have spells running everywhere. It's draining, and I hope I'll have to fight soon."

"Shift the protection from here to there. They've identified Bash. I don't want to worry about someone coming in at night or having to keep his dad safe. You're blocked, and there's no reason for them to be here."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but it's a lot of work that'll drain me. Come back in the morning to dig a hole and burn everything. Then we'll hunt, starting from the coach's house."

"Sounds good."

***

The next morning, Owen groaned as I stared out the window, panicking. "Dude, just go. You can't hide in your room. I'm telling you—Lilla took care of it."

"What if she didn't? What if the spell didn't take, and everyone's searching for Coach Rick?" I ran my fingers through my bedhead and studied the closed bedroom door and the hats hanging there.

"No one's looking. Even if it didn't work, it'd be a few days before anyone noticed him missing."

My jaw dropped. "You can't think that was comforting."

Owen snickered. "Let's go. We have a hole to dig before we can start hunting. Lilla's probably over there chomping at the bit."

I straightened my shirt and inhaled slowly before going to the kitchen. Dad was holding his mug and reading the paper. He glanced up with a smile. "Where are you off to so early?"

"Town. Then I might hang out with Nolan later." I grinned at how convenient it was that Nolan was on vacation. He made a great alibi. Pouring coffee into a travel cup, I waited for Dad to ask about helping Coach yesterday.

"Can you move any slower?" Owen grumbled. "I told you, he won't remember anything. Stop worrying."

I tried to calm my nerves but couldn't. Leaning on the counter, I struggled to sound casual. "Did you hear about Coach Rick?"

"Seriously? You had to ask?" Owen sounded bored.

Ignoring him, I focused on Dad, who frowned. "Yeah, it's a bummer."

My stomach twisted, and my grip tightened on the cup. "What do you mean?"

"He's a great guy; it's too bad he had to relocate. Anyway, I'm gonna cut the grass. Does the mower need gas?"

"Bash," Owen said when I stared a few seconds too long.

I scratched my neck. "Nope. It's ready to go."

"Perfect." Dad stood. "I'll get started before it gets too hot. Listen, I wanted to tell you I, uh..." He stopped and chewed his lip. "I have a date with Meghan Rezny tomorrow."

My eyebrows shot up. "Alwyn's mom?"

He beamed. "Yep. I called her the other day. She was always chatty at the meets and she seems sweet, cute too." His cheeks turned pink. My dad was blushing, but his brow furrowed. "Is it too weird? It's just since you mentioned—"

"No! Dad, it's not weird, it's awesome. I was surprised, that's all. I'm excited for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Dad's eyes were glassy as he gave me a shaky smile. I crossed the kitchen and hugged him tight. "Mom would want you to be happy."

He patted my shoulder and kissed my temple before stepping away with a sniff. "I love you, kid. Have fun."

"Love you too. See you later." I left through the front door as Dad went out the back.

In the truck, Owen said, "That was unexpected. Good for him."

"Yeah. He's really getting out there."

"And I told you Lilla would have Coach covered."

"That shit's freaky." I shuddered at the thought of Lilla altering people's memory.

"I'm just glad she's on our side."

***

We pulled up in front of Owen's house, and Lilla's car wasn't there.

"Did she go hunting without us?" I asked.

"She knew we were coming. Let's check inside."

As I walked toward the porch, I noticed a piece of paper held down by a rock. "There's a letter." I read:

You never gave me your phone number. I did my part. The pants are in the basement, and I've gone to the diner for breakfast. You should be finished by the time I return. ~Lilla

"Even with a note, she rubs me the wrong way." I tossed the stone into the yard.

As I entered the house and went downstairs, Owen said, "She's just ready to hunt now that we have a real starting point."

"I know. We'll switch when she gets here, and I'll stay quiet. That should make things easier." I dropped the note on Owen's desk and picked up the remains. Holding them as far away as possible, I climbed the stairs. "Where's the shovel?"

"Probably out back from the other day."

Pushing weeds and tree limbs aside, I strolled to the backyard. "It surprised me that Lilla volunteered to bury that other one. I can't picture her doing manual labor."

"Well, she doesn't do it the regular way," Owen said. "It's more of a bibbidi-bobbidi-boo situation."

I chuckled at the idea. Behind the house, the shovel leaned propped up on the porch. "Where should I dig?" I asked, gripping the handle.

"It doesn't matter, but not too close to the tree line, or you'll hit roots. If you go deep enough, we'll burn these and bury them under a shallow layer of dirt. Then, if we get lucky tonight, we won't have to do this again—we can drop them on top, light'em up, and cover it."

"In layers, like a super disgusting lasagna. Got it." As I dug, I smirked. "Not that long ago, getting lucky would've had a whole different meaning to me."

Owen laughed. "Hopefully, you can go back to that version soon."

I worked in silence, piling red dirt to the side, and stepped into the knee-deep hole that was soon hip-deep. The steady rhythm cleared my head, and although it was hard, sweaty work, the way it let my mind wander bordered on relaxing, until Owen said, "When we hunt, you don't have to stay quiet. You've done a great job of dealing with all of this, and that includes hunting. If you have something to say, say it."

I blew out a slow breath. "Thanks, but the less I talk around Lilla, the better we'll get along."

"Bash, something's bothering you. If it's about Lilla, tell me quickly before she gets here."

I leaned against the now waist-deep hole and tossed the shovel behind me on the grass. Wiping the sweat from my face with a clean spot on my forearm, I said, "I wouldn't say anything because she's your... friend, or whatever, and she's helped me. But doesn't something seem off?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know exactly. You must feel it, though. Why didn't you want her in your bedroom? I could tell you didn't."

He sighed. "It's just that's where my family's things are that aren't hunting-related. My brothers' comics and the pictures of all of us Mom kept in her drawer. Nothing really important, I guess. It sounds dumb now that I say it out loud."

"It's not. You're protective of what you have left of them. I get it."

Owen hummed. "That's not because of Lilla, though. What do you think is off?"

"It seems like maybe she's hiding something."

Behind me, a woman giggled. "She sure is."

I spun toward the voice. Long, dark hair was replaced by a glimpse of the shovel before it cracked into my skull. Everything went black.

📚 💜📚