“Whoa, there. Pump the breaks,” I said, raising a hand in defense. The once-bright teal of my fingernails was faded and chipped, and I hate that I remember that.

“I offered you a job,” Ethan said coolly. “And you accepted.”

“I accepted a job with Dress Barn.”

“I never said Dress Barn.”

“But you…I…alright, then I’m outta here.”

It was a monumental waste of my time to argue. I turned and stormed out of Dress Barn, shaking my head at how stupid I had been. That geriatric hairbag.

“Don’t forget your dress,” Ethan said to me as I rounded the corner of the entrance. He was standing outside, holding the dress over his arm, like he had been waiting for hours. I spun back to face the interior of the store, then back to Ethan, whose teeth were out again. I was losing my damn mind.

“Keep it,” I said, pushing past him and on to my car.

I pulled the keys from my pocket, clicking open the door to my ’09 Sebring. I fell into the seat and shoved the key into the ignition, steaming angry.

“It’s yours, whether you want it or not,” Ethan said from the passenger seat. I nearly choked to death on nothing. I swear the door hadn’t opened. In fact, as I looked to the corner just below the passenger window, the lock was still in place.

“That was the deal,” Ethan finished.

“How—in the hell—” I said, gasping for breath.

“We’re about to become great friends, you and I,” Ethan said, laying the dress in my lap.

“Who are you?” I asked, staring into his black eyes.

Ethan smiled. “I think it’s best if I show you.”

I said nothing, still racking my brain for a reasonable explanation of Ethan’s wizardry. He’s a goddamn twin. There’s one still back at Dress Barn. And another leaning on that wall. Several twins. No, triplets. But how did he get in my car? Okay, they’re a set of burgling triplets.

“Drive,” Ethan ordered, reaching and turning the key over in the ignition, starting my car.

“Excuse me?”

“Drive…or I will.”

I laughed, equally in doubt and fear. “Yea. I don’t think so.”

Ethan sighed and pointed to the gear stick, and it shifted itself into reverse. What the bloody fuck. I stomped on the brake, leaning my body as far away from that warlock as I could. The tires started spinning as Ethan’s long finger remained pointed. I could do nothing but scream.

Where are the fucking people around here?

A cloud of burnt rubber engulfed the Sebring, until all I could see was a thick patch of gray, which darkened with each passing second.

“Okay!” I yelled over the squealing. “I’ll drive! Just stop!”

The tires instantly quit spinning, and the stick shifted back into park. Ethan then curled his shitty finger back into his shitty hand. “The corner of Magnolia and Lockwood,” Ethan’s deep voice boomed.

I took a second to compose myself, processing the fuckery afoot, when the gear stick shifted back into reverse.

“Jesus, I’m fucking going!” I said, throwing a hand to the shifter. The vehicle crawled backwards as I pulled out of the Dress Barn lot. Ethan checked his watch again.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I asked, looking over to Ethan. He was staring out the window at nothing in particular.

“No,” he said. I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

“Then what are we doing?”

“Magnolia and Lockwood.”

“Are you going to tell me how you do that weird shit?”

“Yes.”

I cleared my throat. “Really?” I asked in disbelief. He didn’t answer. He just nodded.

“Turn here,” he said once we reached Magnolia Avenue, as if I was an idiot. I grew up on Chicago’s coastline. I raced pink Tiny Toon Adventures and Rocket Power bicycles up and down Magnolia Avenue for years, back when pigtails were cute and Dress Barn was Blockbuster Video. I could get to Lockwood Drive with my eyes closed, though I wasn’t about to give Ethan any ideas.

“Why don’t you just tell me where we’re going?” I asked, interrupting my more fearful thoughts. This prompted the steering wheel to turn on its own, veering the vehicle toward Rush University Medical Center. We were going to a hospital. I hated hospitals.

“Come with me,” Ethan said once the vehicle parked itself. He opened the passenger door and walked to the entrance, wasting no time waiting for me. I watched as he approached the automatic doors. That fucking swede.

I leaned over and slammed the passenger door shut, ready to peel out and leave all of the ridiculousness behind. I turned the key in the ignition…and nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing. Again. Again. Click. Click.

“Need a jump?” Ethan said, standing next to the driver-side door. The window was down.

“No, I—I was just—”

Ethan opened the door and pulled me up by my hand. He then reached in and yanked the key from the ignition. “We don’t have time. This way,” he said, pulling me behind him.

“You can’t—treat people like this,” I said, struggling to break free. “I have rights! I’ll sue! Do you hear me? My family sues everyone! I know how!”