Summoned on Halloween (Monstrous Mistakes)

Chapter 1

Agnes

My grandmother’s antique grandfather clock chimed, its rich tone echoing through our cozy house, and reminding me that the party was about to start. I shot my sister a look as I adjusted the halo on my angel costume and turned towards the door. So what if Tabitha wasn’t excited about Halloween? So what if she wore her normal clothes and insisted she’d come as a Canadian? I knew how to throw a party, and it was going to be so much fun.

A memory of Nana’s voice echoed in my mind, reminding me that I wasn’t responsible for my twin sister’s happiness, that I needed to let go of my need to fix people. I shook that off. Our grandmother had raised us, and the fear of disappointing her had haunted me long after her passing.

Fixing people was what I did best, and although I usually focused my attentions on the students in my dance studio, right now there was nothing I wanted more than to see my lonely sister happy. I was sure this date was what my sister needed. I knew she was frustrated with me, but she would see eventually that my intentions were good. Her constant anxiety and worry took a toll on us both, and having someone around to take care of her would ease my worries, especially since she’d chosen to rent her own apartment instead of living in Nana’s house with me.

The doorbell rang, shaking me out of that strange train of thought. I straightened my costume halo and plastered on a smile. I’d found over the years that if I simply focused on feeling cheerful and joyous, that vibe would soon spread to everyone around me and make everything better.

So what if no one else believed in the power of positive thinking? I’d seen the evidence that it worked all around me. And tonight, I put all of my positive energy into manifesting a killer Halloween party.

“Coming!” I called, hurrying to answer it with one last glance towards the kitchen, where Tabitha smirked at me and took a big swig of the punch I’d made, then burped.

Ignoring her, I flung open the heavy wooden door to find my neighbors, a couple in their late twenties who’d recently moved into the neighborhood, dressed as two halves of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Agnes, darling! Your house looks fabulous! I always thought it had a bit of a witchy feel!” Maggie, who was the jelly, was a delight, kind and sweet. Her cheerful demeanor was already soothing the raw edges of my nerves about Tabitha.

I smiled to myself, glancing at my grandmother’s old cauldron as I leaned in and gave her a half-hug, as best I could around the foam bread of her costume. “Thanks Maggie! Love your costumes.”

“We go together like…” Maggie said, grinning. Her husband, Carl, laughed and shook his head, not taking the bait.

“The decorations look fantastic, Agnes.” He shook my hand, then handed me a bottle of wine. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Come on in. The drinks are in the kitchen.” I thanked them for the wine and them inside, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter.

As more guests trickled in, I greeted them joyfully. There were neighbors and friends I’d known since childhood and parents of the children I taught at my dance studio. The community of our small Oregon town made me feel grounded, and the buzz of their excited energy gave me a pleasant rush that almost drowned out my worry over Tabitha. Almost.

Slipping into the kitchen, I caught Tabitha chugging another cup of punch and snatched it from her hand. She wobbled a little. “Hey! That was mine!”

“Tabitha, what the hell? The party’s barely started and you’re already wasted? Your date should be here soon!” Why couldn’t my sister just be normal and social for once in her life?

“Not my date. You set me up without my permission, so it doesn’t count.”

“It’s for you, Tab!”

She blinked up at me, then adjusted the Tim Horton’s nametag on her shirt, the one she said turned her normal clothes into a Canadian costume. “This punch is amazing.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s Nana’s recipe. How strong can it be? I can’t believe you’re drunk after I went through so much trouble to set you up with Sam tonight.”

“Oh, come on. Could you picture me with a guy named Sam?” Tabitha rolled her eyes. “Is he at least hot? The last guy you set me up with had a unibrow.”

“He’s cute. Unlike you right now.”

Tabitha pouted. “Don’t be mean, Aggie. I came to your dumb party. I’m terrible around your friends.”

My irritation softened. I knew how shy Tabitha could be. “Look, I get it. But try to pull yourself together before he arrives, okay? I have a date coming, too.”

As I turned away, my thoughts drifted to my date. Where was Clyde? I’d been looking forward to spending time with the mysterious new guy in town all week. There weren’t many eligible men in Yarrow Creek who I hadn’t known since kindergarten. The doorbell chimed again. My heart skipped. Could it be him? I smoothed my costume and plastered on my most dazzling smile.

Right as I let another group of guests in, I heard a sickening retching sound behind me. I whirled around, my stomach dropping as I saw Tabitha stumble and lurch towards the cauldron, face pale.

“Oh no, no, no!” I gasped, rushing towards her.

But I was too late. Tabitha heaved, and a torrent of vomit splashed into Nana’s antique cauldron—the one I’d spent hours cleaning before I’d filled it with ice and drinks. She was mumbling something incoherent about Sam as she tried to stand up, then flopped back over against the cauldron.

“Tabitha!” I couldn’t decide if I should be horrified or worried.

“I don’t feel so good,” she mumbled. “What was in that punch?”

“I don’t know, it was one of Nana’s old recipes,” I helped her onto the floral print couch — another relic from our grandmother. I felt a pang of disappointment. This wasn’t how I’d imagined our Halloween bash kicking off.

“Stay here,” I ordered, tucking a blanket around her. “Try to sleep it off, okay? I’ll put the punch away and make sure no one else has any.”

Tabitha nodded weakly, already curling into a ball.

I returned to the crime scene, wrinkling my nose at the putrid smell emanating from our family heirloom. “If only we actually had some of the family magic,” I muttered. “A cleaning spell would come in handy right about now.”

Instead, I settled for dragging the whole mess into the den and closing the doors. Turning to face the bewildered partygoers, I forced a smile as I brushed off my skirt and announced, “Sorry guys! I think I’d better go wash my hands.”

A woman stared at my hands, eyes wide, clearly horrified. Flushing, I sprinted into the powder room, washing my hands twice before leaning against the wall for a moment. How could the party already be going to hell? Fuck!

I sighed, running a hand through my carefully styled hair, then checked my dress to make sure it still looked okay before slipping back out of the powder room. The angel wings I’d crafted from wire and white feathers still looked divine. Maggie was pulling drinks out of the fridge and loading them into a bucket, and she shot me a rueful grin. Thank goodness the cauldron hadn’t really held much. I’d been planning to refill it throughout the night, and most of the beverages were still in the fridge.

“Thank you,” I said to Maggie as I breezed by her.

“Hope your sister is okay!” Maggie called back.

I rolled my eyes. “She has social anxiety, and she started pre-partying a bit too hard. Nothing contagious or anything.” At least I hoped it was nothing contagious.

The doorbell chimed, and my heart leapt. Could it be my date? I rushed to the door, ignoring the muffled groans coming from Tabitha’s direction. I had my most dazzling smile at the ready, but it faltered when I saw who was standing there. “Sam! Hi there!”

The guy I’d set Tabitha up with stood on my porch, looking handsome but awkward in what I could only assume was supposed to be a demon costume, from the sparkly sequined horns. His emerald green eyes twinkled with mischief as he grinned at me.

“Evening, Agnes. Nice wings,” he said, his voice rather smooth for such a dorky-looking dude.

I ushered him inside. “Thanks! I’m so glad you could make it. Tabitha’s, um... resting at the moment, but I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you later.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Resting, huh? On Halloween? That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could get a word out, a thunderous crash echoed from the kitchen. What the hell?

“Excuse me,” I said, flashing Sam an apologetic smile. “Duty calls. Make yourself at home!”

I rushed across the room, my angel wings fluttering behind me. My mind raced. What in the name of all things holy was going on? This wasn’t a frat party. I hoped no one else was as drunk as Tabitha already?

“Please don’t let it be Nana’s china,” I muttered under my breath, my heart pounding.

As I reached the archway that lead to the kitchen, I skidded to a halt, my jaw dropping at the sight before me.

There, in all his muscled, leather-clad glory, stood the most impressive man I’d ever laid eyes on, with the most impressive body paint job. I couldn’t tell what color his natural skin was, but he’d painted it a strange black that seemed to glow and ripple with heat from the inside. It must have been an optical illusion, but I was distracted for a moment as I wondered if his muscles were an optical illusion. And the tail. Why did it look like it was moving?

“I don’t think our table can support—” The words died in my throat as the guy turned to face me, his face alight with mischief. His horns were incredible. Where had he found that costume? I was stunned speechless by his body when I really needed to focus on the party.

What party, again?

I shook my head, trying to force my mind back to the matter at hand. He was about to break my Nana’s priceless antique table. As he shifted, the table creaked and the thick muscles of his thighs flexed beneath his tight leather pants, which left me with very few questions about the size of his bulge. Crap. I needed to focus on the table.

“Nice costume!” I called out. “But do you mind explaining why you’re using my family heirloom as a stage?”

He grinned, revealing a set of sharp costume fangs, then raised his arms over his head, muscles rippling beneath his impossibly realistic body paint. “I am Zangraxath the Destroyer!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the kitchen. “I have been asleep for too long, and I need to feed. Where are the willing virgins?”

I tried not to stare at the way his leather pants clung to every curve of his round, thick ass, but it was very distracting. And where was his shirt? And how did he get that body paint to look so... alive?

“That’s great, Zangraxath,” I said, forcing my eyes up to meet his. “Now get your destroying butt off my grandmother’s table before I have to destroy you.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made my body heat. “Oh, little angel,” he purred, eyeing my costume wings. “I’d much rather devour you than get down.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “Sorry, man. I’m not on the party menu tonight. I have a date. I’m also not a willing virgin. I have a very healthy sex life.”

As he flexed his muscles again, I wondered who the hell this guy was. I’d lived in Yarrow Creek my entire life, and I’d never seen anyone who looked like him. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, and solid muscle from head to toe. His eight-pack had an eight-pack. Surely I would have noticed someone that tall walking through town.

“Come now, sweet morsel,” Zangraxath teased, his eyes glinting with what looked almost like actual fire. “You summoned me. Can’t you spare some time for a poor, hungry demon?” A sharp creak from beneath Zangraxath’s feet made me gasp. My grandmother’s antique table! I lunged for the broom in the corner, brandishing it like a weapon.

“Hey! Demon-boy!” I jabbed the bristles at his sculpted abs. “That table’s an heirloom, not a stage for your cosplay shenanigans!”

Zangraxath’s yellow eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam igniting within them. “Mmm, you do look tasty when you’re feisty.”

“Oh, zip it,” I muttered, giving him a solid whack with the broom. “I am not on the menu!”

Suddenly, another set of muscular arms reached past me, yanking the broom from my grasp. Before I could protest, a second demon-costumed Adonis — where the hell were they coming from? — swung the broom like a baseball bat, sending Zangraxath flying off the table.

“What the—” I sputtered, whirling around as Tabitha stumbled into the kitchen, her eyes wide and unfocused.

“Woah,” she slurred, pointing at the tangle of limbs on my floor. “Agnes! This is the date you found me?”

I blinked, confused. “Tabitha, that’s not—”

But my sister was already in motion, grabbing the nearest demon by the hand. “C’mon, handsome,” she giggled. “Let’s go find somewhere to get to know each other better. Rawr.”

Rawr? Had Tabitha been body snatched?

As Tabitha dragged her bewildered prize out of the kitchen, I crouched down, my angel wings rustling softly behind, and examined the man who’d called himself Zangraxath.

“Hey, um, Mr. Destroyer? You still breathing there? That looked like a rough fall.”

As I studied his face, I marveled at how lifelike his costume appeared. The deep crimson of his skin seemed to pulse with an inner heat, and those wickedly curved horns looked far too real to be plastic.

“This is some next-level cosplay,” I muttered, reaching out to touch his chest.

Without warning, Zangraxath’s eyes snapped open, blazing with an otherworldly fire. Before I could even gasp, he moved with impossible speed, his voice a deep, sexy rumble.

“Mmm, little angel,” he purred, “I think I’ll devour you after all.”

In a blur of motion, I found myself hoisted over his shoulder, my world turning upside down. “Hey!” I yelped, blood rushing to my head. “Put me down, you overgrown Halloween decoration!”

But Zangraxath was already moving, his stride eating up the distance across my kitchen floor. As we barreled towards the doorway, a traitorous part of my mind couldn’t help but appreciate the feel of his muscular shoulder against my stomach.

“This is not how you treat a hostess!”

“It’s been too long. I need to feed. And you were the most tempting morsel in that entire house.”