Chapter 3

The comment thread under the video became a massive landfill of witch memes and fiery pitchfork emojis.

"Thinking a few drops of STD blood makes a curse?" A popular beauty guru sneered into her front-facing camera. She squeezed a massive amount of the clear serum onto her fingertips. "Suck the witch's blood dry, sisters. Apply an extra layer today to show this psycho we aren't scared."

They rubbed the multimillion-dollar formula aggressively into their cheeks. They smiled. They mocked my name.

My phone vibrated against my knee. The caller ID displayed Mom.

I swiped the screen. "Mom?"

"You are a devil worshipper," my mother wailed through the speaker. Her voice cracked with pure hysteria. "You made our family a disgrace at the parish. The pastor asked us to leave!"

"Listen to me. It's not what you think—"

"Our family cannot afford this humiliation!" my father shouted over her. He had forcefully grabbed the receiver. "From today on, you are not our daughter. Do not call this number again. Do not associate your name with us."

The line dropped.

I dialed back immediately. A sterile automated voice answered.

I dropped the phone onto the rug. My agent, my friends, my parents. I was officially a ghost in my own life.

I pulled my knees tight against my chest on the massive sectional sofa. The flat-screen TV mounted on the wall played a popular daytime syndication.

Toxic Barbie occupied the prime guest chair. Because she had applied heavy layers of the pure serum over the past few days, her skin looked unnaturally plump. The high-definition cameras captured a flawless, radiant glow.

"Yeah, I saw her little basement witchcraft video," Toxic Barbie told the host. She tossed her blonde extensions over her shoulder. "But honestly? Looks like that psycho's voodoo soup actually has some use. It deserves to be my daily makeup primer."

The studio audience erupted into applause and vicious laughter.

I dug my fingernails into my forearms. I had drained my final assets. I had bled for them. And they were just getting prettier.

I didn't notice when, but Julian was standing in the living room.

He stepped into the glow of the television screen. He carried his black leather medical briefcase in his right hand. It had been three days since I'd seen him.

"If you're here to finally end this, just put the divorce papers on the kitchen counter. I'll sign them without a fight." I stared blankly at Toxic Barbie smiling on the TV. "And if you're here to mock me for being a pathetic loser, you don't have to bother. The whole world is already doing it for you."

Julian set his briefcase down on the hardwood floor.

He walked directly over to the couch and dropped his knees to the rug. Before I could flinch away, he reached out and pulled me forcefully against his chest.

"Did you honestly think a few drops of blood could curse them, sweetheart?" he breathed against my ear.

I stiffened. I pushed hard against his shoulders, fighting a sudden surge of confused anger. "Let me go, Julian! Just leave me alone!"

He didn't release his grip. His arms functioned like iron bands holding me securely in place.

"Stop fighting me, Serena. I told you I would protect you. The very second that first disgusting rumor breached the internet, I swore I wouldn't let them destroy you."

I froze. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked at his face. The disgusted expression from three days ago was entirely gone.

He calmly reached into his briefcase and retrieved his sleek laptop. He placed it on the glass coffee table, typed in a long passcode, and turned the screen toward me.

A highly complex sequence of chemical equations and a rotating 3D molecular structure filled the monitor.

"Did you truly believe you could simply swipe your card through my laboratory's highest biometric security?" Julian smiled softly. His thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle on my jawline. "Did you think you could walk away with a hundred vials of a priceless prototype unnoticed?"

"You... you knew?" I stared at him, my mouth slightly open.

"Darling," Julian whispered, his lips grazing my temple. "I intentionally let you take them."

"Your magic is utterly useless," Julian told me. "But my science will physically destroy their cellular structures. It accelerates tissue degradation by decades in a matter of hours."

He laced his fingers tightly through mine. His grip was fiercely protective.

"You're an actress, Serena," he whispered, a chilling amusement lingering in his voice. "You gave them a tragic performance. But leave the actual butchery to me."

I looked at the complex chemical formulas predicting cellular death. I looked at the television.

Toxic Barbie was laughing at the studio camera.

"Julian," I whispered, my heartbeat slowly returning to a steady, terrifying rhythm. "When exactly does the poison activate?"