Chapter 27: A Witch’s Broom Closet

Devon

“Are you sure this is it?” I ask Tom, who is typing away on his laptop in the passenger’s seat.

“Of course, this is it! I’m the one with the key, remember?”

“If you’re wrong about this, Tom, it’s not me who will give you a new one. Logan will rip your throat out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. I told you, Mom and I have been here a dozen times. My Gran built it decades ago. It has any and all supernatural weapons you can imagine.”

I park the car in front of the run-down cabin, shrubs and grass growing so high around it that the entrance is barely visible.

“When was the last time you came here?” I ask Tom as he closes the laptop.

He shrugs and opens his door. “Dunno. Not that long ago.”

“And you don’t have a groundskeeper?” I eye the multitude of trees surrounding the cabin, most of them only a few years old, some well over a hundred.

“Don’t need ‘em,” he says and steps out of the vehicle.