Chapter 2
The last time I’d laid eyes on the wereape bitch, she was trying to kill me. And now, here she was, trying to ruin my morning.
“You’re interrupting my coffee,” I hissed. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain why your sorry ass is standing here before I do something stupid.”
My voice echoed a little too loudly, but I didn’t care. The sight of her standing there, looking smug and stupidly flawless, was like a punch to my magical gut. I could already feel the Nexari energy start to hum beneath my skin.
Not enough to lose control. Just enough for my body to start to tremble.
Allison should be rotting away in the Grimway Citadel. She should not be standing here. This was not how I planned to start my day. None of what was happening made any sense.
The sound of scraping chairs and loud treads told me that my aunts were fast approaching.
Which meant I had approximately three seconds before this entire situation turned into a supernatural stampede.
Allison just watched me, calm as ever, which only fueled the anger I had for her inside me. “Allison was my twin sister. I’m Addison.”
I had a brain fart moment. “Wait… You’re not Allison?” My brain screeched violently, trying to process that information while simultaneously staring at Allison’s face.
Same hair. Same eyes. Same stupid voice.
Same terrifyingly symmetrical cheekbones.
But where Allison always looked like she was one inconvenience away from biting someone, this woman looked calm.
Controlled. Her energy was different. The wereape scent of animal was there.
But when I sent out my witchy vibes, I sensed it.
The slight variation. This was not Allison.
I sucked in a breath. “Gorilla Barbie 2.0.”
One perfectly sculpted blonde brow lifted slightly.
Okay.
Rude of her to somehow look elegant while I stood there in leggings with toothpaste on my thigh.
“Fine, Not-Allison,” I told her, still not liking her because, well, she had Allison’s face. “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for the people responsible for my sister’s death,” replied Addison.
Behind me, the sound of footsteps abruptly stopped.
Silence.
Then…
“What?” shrieked Ruth.
The next few seconds devolved into complete chaos.
All three of my aunts appeared at once behind me in the narrow doorway and got stuck trying to fit through it together.
“Move,” snapped Beverly.
“You move,” Dolores snapped back.
“You’re elbowing me in the breast,” hissed Beverly.
“That’s because your breasts arrived three seconds before the rest of you.”
Ruth somehow ended up wedged between them while still holding the pancake spatula. “Oh dear.”
I barely managed to step aside before Beverly shoved past me in her kitten heels that absolutely should not have been stable on old porch wood.
Dolores followed after, one hand braced against the doorframe while she squinted hard at Addison.
Ruth leaned awkwardly between them, nearly losing her balance. “Oh my cauldron,” she whispered. “She really does look exactly like Allison.”
“Except less homicidal around the eyes,” observed Beverly, studying the wereape.
“That remains to be seen,” said Dolores flatly.
Addison’s expression didn’t change, but I noticed her eyes flick carefully between the three sisters like she was cataloging them.
Which made me trust her even less.
Nobody studied the Davenports calmly unless they were either deeply confident or deeply stupid.
And Allison had definitely not been calm.
Darian suddenly popped up beside my leg, holding a pancake in one sticky hand.
He squinted up at Addison. “Hi.”
My eyes widened. “Buddy—”
“Hi,” said Addison smoothly, though something unreadable flickered briefly across her face.
Tinker Bell zipped out from somewhere inside the house and hovered near Addison’s head.
“Ooooh,” the fairy whispered. “This one smells expensive.”
Beverly nodded approvingly. “She does.”
Dolores folded her arms. “Start talking.”
Addison slowly looked back toward me. “May I come inside?”
“No,” I answered.
Addison glanced past us into the house, her expression unreadable. “I won’t be staying long.”
“Absolutely not,” Dolores cut in.
Beverly tilted her head. “Well, now I’m curious.”
And there it was. The exact moment my morning officially collapsed into supernatural madness.
I turned my attention back to Addison. “You said Allison is dead?”
The wereape nodded. “She is.”
I watched her for a moment. Did I feel bad? Nope. Not even a little. That crazy wereape got what she deserved. “Well, you came here for nothing because we didn’t have anything to do with that. Your sister was locked away in Grimway Citadel.”
I tightened my grip on my coffee mug, suddenly very aware that I was standing barefoot on the porch wearing old leggings and an oversized sweater while confronting the twin sister of a homicidal wereape before nine in the morning.
“My sister was killed three weeks ago in Grimway,” said Addison.
Silence fell over the porch.
“How?” asked Dolores, her voice careful now.
Addison’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “There was a riot in one of the lower containment sectors.” Her eyes flicked briefly toward me. “Several prisoners were killed.”
Something uncomfortable twisted in my stomach. Not guilt exactly. More like… that horrible feeling when reality suddenly stopped being funny.
“She was attacked in her cell,” Addison continued quietly. “From what I was told, the guards didn’t reach her in time.”
Ruth covered her mouth softly with one hand. “Oh dear.”
“She suffered,” said Addison.
Okay. Yup. There went the remaining warmth from my coffee buzz.
I shifted awkwardly on the porch, my brain scrambling for the correct emotional response while simultaneously trying not to stare at Allison’s face.
Because seriously. The resemblance was deeply unsettling. Just… colder somehow. Less explosive. It made me miss the explosive version a little. At least with Allison, you always knew when she wanted to murder you.
But with Gorilla Barbie 2.0—not so much.
“That’s terrible,” I said carefully, though I felt nothing. “But it’s not our fault.”
Addison’s gaze snapped to mine.
“She tried to kill me multiple times,” I continued before my mouth could stop itself. “And Marcus. My point is she wasn’t exactly stable. But as her twin, I’m sure you already knew that. Your sister was insane.”
“Tessa,” whispered Ruth gently.
“What? She literally threatened to rip my child out of me. I feel like we’re glossing over that because she’s dead now.”
“We are not glossing,” said Dolores dryly. “We are attempting not to escalate the situation before breakfast.”
Addison’s expression remained calm, but something was simmering underneath now. “You had her sent there.”
I shifted my weight. “No, actually, the murder and attempted murder thing had her sent there.”
“Tessa,” said Beverly softly this time, giving me a look.
I shrugged. “What? I’m trying honesty. Apparently, honesty is healthy.”
“It’s also getting louder,” Dolores noted.
I realized I was half-yelling.
Oops.
I lowered my voice slightly. Look at me. Personal growth. “You don’t get tossed into Grimway Citadel for looking at someone the wrong way. It’s a serious prison for the seriously insane.”
“Allison made her own choices,” Dolores said firmly, stepping forward now. “That prison exists for a reason.”
“She belonged there,” added Beverly with surprising bluntness. “Pretty as she was, that girl had issues bigger than my first fiancé.”
“That man ran off with a swamp witch,” Ruth whispered to Addison apologetically. “It was a difficult time.”
Addison’s eyes stayed locked on me. “If it weren’t for you and your family,” she said quietly, “my sister would still be alive.”
Something in my chest tightened. Not because I thought she was right. Because part of me hated that tiny ugly voice in the back of my head whispering:
What if?
Which was stupid. Objectively stupid. Allison had tried to kill us. Multiple times.
But grief was weird and messy and apparently arrived on your porch looking like a homicidal shampoo model.
“You can’t pin that on me,” I said, my voice strong. “I didn’t force her to do what she did. That’s on her. All of it.”
Addison laughed once under her breath, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Is that what you think?”
I didn’t like the way she’d said that. Like she absolutely believed I was responsible. That somehow I’d manipulated her late sister to end up in jail. I didn’t. Allison had achieved that all on her own.
I’d bet she’d been doing terrible things long before I came into Marcus’s life.
Addison tilted her head slightly, studying me in a way that made my skin itch. Just… watching. Like she was trying to figure out where I fit inside a story she’d already built in her head.
I didn’t like it.
At least Allison had been openly unhinged. You always knew where you stood with her. Usually somewhere between “mildly threatened” and “actively running for your life.”
But Addison? I didn’t know her. And she barely moved. Barely blinked. Even her grief looked controlled. That somehow made me more defensive.
“I’m serious,” I continued, hearing myself getting louder again and hating it. “Your sister made her own choices. Repeatedly. Violently. With commitment.”
Now I wasn’t just irritated. I was getting angry. The kind that sat hot beneath your ribs and made your magic twitch.
Because something was deeply wrong about standing on my own porch being looked at like I was some manipulative monster when Allison had spent years making my life a living supernatural migraine.
Addison’s expression barely changed, but I noticed her jaw tighten slightly.
Tiny movement. Tiny crack.
Interesting.
“She talked about you often,” Addison said quietly.
Oh. Great. That definitely sounded healthy. “What exactly did homicidal Gorilla Barbie say about me?”
“Tessa.” Dolores sighed.
I shrugged. “What? We’re all thinking it.”
Ruth slowly raised her hand a little. “I wasn’t.”
“She said you took everything from her,” continued Addison.