It was like stepping onto the set of an all-out slasher movie. The walls and furniture all had blood running down in streams, like they’d been sliced open and left to bleed out. The clothes on the floor might as well have been costumes from that same horror movie, covered in a random array of red stripes and blotches that would have seemed excessive to even the most ruthless horror movie director. There was even blood on the Lakers Hoodie Ed always hung on the far side of his bed.

“Naomi!” he shouted. His shoes squelched on the blood-stained floor and he gritted his teeth. Chicken blood was so much stickier than human blood. Not that he had a lot of experience with human blood.

It was like she’d purposefully tried to cover every inch of his room. What kind of spell had she been trying to do anyway? Usual just a circle of blood was enough.

“Naomi!” He shouted again, to no response. He grabbed the back of his desk chair like he always did, only to feel something warm and sticky.

That did it. “Naomi!” He shouted for a third time before storming out of his room. He flicked the globs of blood off his fingers, too late thinking of flicking them off on his sister instead.

He didn’t bother to knock when he reached her room, he just threw the door open.

Naomi was lying on her stomach, reading a book, looking like she hadn’t heard any of his previous shouts. She didn’t even look up when he entered, just tucked one frizzy strand of hair that had escaped from the bright pink barrets she had littered around her black hair. She looked like a little fuzzy pink princess, but Ed knew better.

He so mad he forgot what he came to say for a second. “What were you doing in my room?” He finally managed to sputter.

“I was casting a protection spell,” Naomi said without looking up from her book.

Naomi was always attempting complex spells like that, which was fine, except she was seven. Some witches hadn’t even come into their powers by then.

“Why did you do it in my room?”

“Your room is the most conveniently located. It was the best way to ensure the entire house fell within the spell’s perimeter.” And with that proclamation, she turned another page.

Ed just stared at her. Reasoning with a seven year-old was hard enough without her spewing off words like “conveniently” and “perimeter.”

He stood there for a moment, glaring at her, while she continued to ignore his existence. This was getting him nowhere. Even if he could think of something to say she’d never listen to him.

Cursing, he turned and raced toward the basement. Naomi might listen to their Aunt Sharon, or at least make eye contact during the conversation.

He could hear voices as he reached the salon door. It was after closing time, but it wasn’t uncommon for Sharon stay late. He should wait until she finished, but who knew how long that would be, especially if she was with one of her long-time clients. He might be waiting for hours.

Both his Aunt and her client looked up as he opened the door, which probably wasn’t a good thing considering the lady two inches of foam and foil surrounding her hair.

Sharon gave him a warm smiling, her age lines crinkling. He would never tell her this but they were starting to get more pronounced, not that she acted like she was getting older. She was still the embodiment of sunshine with sparkling amber eyes and short-blond hair that formed a halo around her face. She’d always reminded him of a sunflower, and she laughed everytime he told her that.

“Do you have a minute?” Ed asked.

The lady’s eyes widened, creating a bigger target for the foam that was slipping down her forehead.

“I will soon.” Sharon grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead to save her client’s eyes. Her client didn’t seem to notice. “Can it wait?”

“Who’s this?” The lady asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant about it.

“That is my darling nephew, Edgar. Edgar, this is Delilah Wentworth.”

Ed raised his hand and gave her a half-smile. If he didn’t his Aunt would gabber on about his rudeness for a half an hour straight. The lady didn’t return the gesture, her eyes just grew wider.

He bit back his frustrated sigh. He couldn’t exactly blame her, as his Aunt and he looked nothing alike. But seriously, biracial families should not be that big a deal anymore.

“I’ll come back,” Ed said as he edged for the door.

“Don’t be silly. I’m almost done.”

That was what he was afraid of, because then she would ask him his opinion, by opinion he meant that she would ask him if her client was georgeous and he would be forced to say yes, whether she was or not. It wasn’t that Sharon wasn’t good at her job, but her clients all had the weirdest standard of beauty. Not that he was an expert or anything.

Sighing, he took a seat.

“So, you’re nephew is visiting you today?” Ms. Wentworth asked.

Wow. That was actually a pretty tactful way of bringing up the question Ms. Wentworth must be dying to ask: How we’re Sharon and Ed related? He supposed he couldn’t blame her. Even though he was half and half he’d definitely taken after his father more. And it didn’t help that both his mother and Aunt had been practically albino even though they’d grown up in California, which got a lot more sun than their little suburb on New Orleans.

“Oh no, he lives with me. And his younger sister Naomi. She’s a dear. You’ll have to meet her sometime.” Sharon grabbed Ms. Wentworth’s head and pulled it back into the sink, meaning Ed couldn’t see how Ms. Wentworth reacted to this information. Thankfully, he couldn’t take her stares anymore. He really wasn’t all that weird looking so he didn’t know what her problem was. Sure his ears were a little big, and his eyes, but he didn’t do anything crazy with his hair, kept it to an almost buzz cut. Most people didn’t notice him at all.

“Oh… did they… I mean, did you…” She could figure out how to be tactful about her next question though. If only she knew she didn’t need too. Sharon never held anything back.

“Their parents died about, oh, how long has it been? Seven years back.”

“That’s terrible.” Ms. Wentworth shifted as she tried to get a better look at Ed. Guess her opinion of him had changed now that she knew he was an orphan.

Ed looked away. His aunt might be an open book, but he wasn’t. That’s why he usually preferred her witch clients to her human ones. Everyone in their coven knew about his parents already.

“It is,” Sharon sighed. “Fortunately they’d already named me guardian. My brother-in-law didn’t have any siblings and his parents were older, so it made sense for me to take them.” She pulled Ms. Wentworth’s head out of the sink and started blow-drying, like nothing had happened. Some might think her callous, but this was how his aunt dealt with pain. She told everyone and anyone. Sometimes Ed thought that’s why she did hair. It gave her an audience that couldn’t run away.

“That was very kind of you,” Ms. Wentworth sounded choked up, like she was getting emotional. Ed leaned back against the wall, like he was trying to disappear into it. He’d actually found a spell that would let him do that, but it looked far too complicated for even Naomi.

“Oh, they’re perfect little angels.”

Ed coughed, just loud enough for his Aunt to know he wasn’t really coughing.

“Except with each other. “ She gave him a pointed look, having guessed why he’d come to talk to her.” I swear even when they agree they still find a way to fight about it.”

Ed didn’t want too, but he chuckled at that.

Sharon was smiling too as she gently pushed Ms. Wentworth’s head down. Once she was sure Ms. Wentworth wasn’t looking she snapped her fingers, and suddenly Ms. Wentworth’s hair was dry. There was a reason his Aunt was the most popular stylist around.

“And were done.” She thrust a mirror in Ms. Wentworth’s hand. “How’s it look?”

Judging by the way Ms. Wentworth’s face lit up, she was happy with the results. “Oh Sharon, I don’t know how you do it.”

Sharon only smiled as she turned to Ed. “What do you think? Doesn’t she look gorgeous?”

Just as he predicted. He gave them a thumbs up.

It was another few minutes before Ms. Wentworth actually left. She must have thought if she didn’t tell Sharon she was amazing at least twenty times Sharon wouldn’t believe her. Finally, Sharon closed the back door.

“All right,” she said as she crossed over to him. “Show me what Naomi did this time.”

Ed didn’t say anything as they walked toward his room. Better to let Sharon observe it for herself.

Which she did, but with none of the shock or rage Ed was hoping for. She didn’t even seem fazed as she surveyed his blood-splattered room. She was biting her lip, like she debating what to say. That couldn’t be good.

“Well, if you’re room hadn’t been so messy…”

“Seriously?” Of course she’d find a way to make this fault. He stormed into his room, looking for the best evidence to convince Sharon of the severity of his situation. He gaze trailed to the blood-stained books on his desk. There, she couldn’t fault for leaving books out, could she?

“See, she even got in on…” he trailed off as he noticed what was underneath the books. Slowly, he reached out and picked up the smoldering, half-charred stack of papers; all that remained of his months of painstaking research.

Before he knew what he was doing he was rushing toward the door, but Sharon was blocking his escape.

“Look what she did?” He gestured to the ashes on his desk.

“I didn’t destroy anything important.” Naomi had miraculously appeared behind Sharon, looking every bit the little angel she pretended to be around everyone else.

“What?” Ed snapped.

“Your research wasn’t going to amount to anything.” Naomi said without hesitation. Ed should have known better than to assume she’d be intimidated by his anger. Didn’t stop him from being angry anyway.

“How would you know?” He was probably going to regret asking that. No, he was definitely going to regret asking that.

“You were trying to compare transportation spells with dream spells, which is stupid. Their underlying compositions aren’t even remotely compatible.”

For the second time tonight he had no idea what his younger sister was saying.

“Shut up,” he finally hissed, but Naomi only smiled. She knew once he resorted to “shut up” it was over, she’d won.

But winning wasn’t enough for her. She had to rub his face into it too. “And even if they were, someone like you could never pull off a spell like that.”

Ed whirled on her. “I said shut—“

“Enough!” Sharon hardly ever yelled, but when she did it always stopped both of them in their tracks.

“I swear if the two of you were werewolves you’d have ripped each other’s throats out by now.”

At that, Naomi dropped her head. “I’m sorry,” her usually smug voice was now soft and sweet. Ed wasn’t sure whether to roll his eyes or vomit.

But, of course, Sharon fell for it. She stroked Naomi’s hair before turning on him. “Don’t you have something to say to your sister?”

Now he definitely wanted to vomit. “I didn’t do anything to her.”

“You yelled at her.” She made it sound like he’d murdered a puppy or something.

“She deserved it!” He gestured to Naomi, who was smiling again. Though it turned to a frown as soon as Sharon glanced at her.

“She’s half your age.” Sharon pulled Naomi against her while Naomi wrapped her arms around Sharon’s waist.

“More like half-demon,” Ed muttered, not loudly enough for them to hear him. He sometimes thought it was a legitimate possibility. No seven year-old should have that much mastery of manipulation.

“I think he’s just nervous because he’s seeing Nikki tonight.” Naomi smiled sweetly.

Sharon chuckled. “I think you’re right.”

“What?” He sputtered. “That’s not even…” Why was he even bothering? Anything he said was only going to cause them to giggle more.

“We don’t want the smell taking over the house though.” Sharon waved her hand and all the blood disappeared. She may not have been the mostly accomplished witch in the world, but she had a natural grace his magic always lacked. Something Naomi loved to point out.

“There.” She smiled, like that made everything better. Though in her mind, it probably did.

“Oh, that reminds me. We’d better get dinner going.” She took Naomi’s hand, and still giggling, they made their way downstairs.

He stared after them, dumfounded. How was it that he always ended up on the losing side of these arguments? Grumbling, he turned toward his door. Throwing his de-bloodified things around his room seemed like a good idea right about now. But before he could even take a step, his Aunt shouted from the kitchen, “We could use really use your help too, honey.”

Ed took a really long, really deep breath before slowly closing his door. Sometimes he just couldn’t win.