Read Online An Imperfect Witch by Debora Geary - Free Book Online Page A

bounded out of Nell’s arms and then stopped mid-bounce, eyes caught by Lizard’s dress one more time.  She regarded it carefully, head tilted to the side.  “You know, it kind of looks like a wedding dress.”
    It took a valiant effort for Nell to hold in the spluttering laughter.  She grabbed Shay in a tackle from behind and mashed a kiss into the giggling, protesting cheek.  “You might not mention that to Lizard, child of mine.”
    Shay squirmed out of the mama hug and backed away, eyes bright with laughter. 
    Nell left before Shay joined forces with her sisters.  Sometimes, it was better not to know.
    -o0o-
    Lizard walked back up the sidewalk to the little 1920s cottage, ignoring the wild beauty of the setting sun.  She was alone this time, although it had taken a minor act of God to discourage Helga from helping with the evening’s ghost hunting.  Being pretty sure there wasn’t any danger was a whole lot different than letting a little old lady tag along.
    They’d found clues—a candy wrapper in a closet, an oddly clean sink, and a footprint, no bigger than Helga’s, in the dirt outside the back door.
    A stowaway of sorts, and probably a young one.  And smart—the lockbox app showed regular entry into the house after dark.  With the freaking front door key.  Last entry, thirty minutes ago.
    Lizard knew what it was to seek safety in quiet places.  And to run at the first sign of trouble.  She let herself in the front door—she’d already detoured to lock the back one.  Time to have a chat with a very corporeal ghost.
    She marched into the living room and pitched her voice.  “Yo.  Anybody home?”
    Nothing.
    “Not the cops, and you’re not in trouble.  Yet.  But I know you’ve been letting yourself into the house, and I have to report that.  Show your face, and maybe I change my mind.”  Not a chance in hell she was reporting it, but she couldn’t let it keep happening, either.  “You have five minutes.”
    It took four-and-a-half for footsteps to sound on the stairs.
    Lizard saw the grungy Keds first.  And then the even grungier jeans.  She prepared herself for street kid.
    The rest of the ghost came around the banister, grungy jeans topped by an ancient, shapeless hoodie.  And eyes that held a single message.  Defiance.
    Dark eyes stared out from a face that was far cleaner than the jeans.  And a haircut that had been done by real scissors in the hands of someone who knew how to use them.  Frowning, Lizard took stock.  The outer layer of clothes was grunge, but the T-shirt underneath was clean.  The phone in the stowaway’s hands was an iPhone 5.  And the eyes were way too direct to have lived long on the streets.
    Contradictions. 
    “I’m Lizard Monroe, friendly neighborhood real estate agent.  Who are you?”
    A single raised eyebrow.
    Lizard sighed—she wouldn’t have answered that one either.  “Got a street name?”
    Nothing.
    “Look, you can talk to me, or you can talk to some shithead who passes for a cop.”  She had a better relationship with law enforcement these days, but this wasn’t the time for police community relations.
    The girl’s eyes flashed in disgust.  “Squeak.”
    Lizard scowled.  “That’s a dumb name.”
    Squeak snorted.  “Says a girl named after a reptile?”
    There was a world of difference—and Lizard was finally smart enough to know what it was.  “I like my name.  You don’t.”
    Truth hid under a thick layer of scorn, but it was there.  “Street names don’t matter.”
    The hell they didn’t.  “Then it won’t matter if you pick one that doesn’t make you want to puke.”
    “Fine.”  Something odd came to life in the teenager’s mind.  “You can call me Raven, then.”
    Lizard had no idea where the name had come from or why it mattered.  But it did, and that was progress.  “Will do.  Want some noodles?  I know a place.”  Romano never blinked at riffraff in his restaurant—he was very cool