PART I
One year later.
It had been a year focused on resting, refocusing, and regrowing. Not just for the soil in the barren corn fields stretched out before me, but for my personal life. Hell, my damn soul needed a good salt-and-burn treatment after the whirlwind of events that had gone down here in Falston.
If I had learned anything from last year’s fall festival, it was that sometimes there was no explanation for why things happened in our lives. There was just the moon, the sun, and the love that bound the two into an endless cycle every day.
The opening ceremony for this year’s landmark one-hundredth fall festival was about to kick off, and all of the town buzzed with more excitement than I’d ever seen.
Things were going to be different this year; I could feel it in my bones.
Where there were once stalks of corn for as far as the eye could see, now there was nothing but tilled soil without any crops to sprout from it. Without the towering walls made of grain obscuring the view of the land, the sight of the cross frame in the distance was unobscured and notably empty.
“The corn will be back next year, stronger than ever,” Bale said as he came up next to me. He offered me a warm pumpkin fritter from one of the food carts set up in the courtyard behind us.
I smiled as I took the pastry. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted off the doughy treat. Taking a bite, I nodded in response to his reassurance about the fields.
“I know. Doesn’t mean I won’t miss it in the meantime,” I admitted as I licked the excess sugar from my lips.
Sighing wistfully, I continued to munch on my fritter as I thought about all that had taken place over the last twelve months.
Noraline’s powers were lost to the flames of the bonfire.
I’m unsure if the dark magic was the only thing keeping her alive or not.
She had been so distraught over the destruction of her book of curses, she had never truly recovered physically.
Her body eventually gave way, and the medical examiner could only point to natural causes as the manner of death.
Good riddance, you haggard wench.
As for the Town Council? Fucking hell, the dismantling of their corruption had been popcorn-worthy. Even the Dennison twins hadn’t been spared from karma’s bitchslap.
The mayor himself had suffered a political scandal that ruined the family’s reputation when it was discovered that they had been falsifying reports of trades with other towns.
Supposedly, Sunford never received the corn Mayor Dennison had promised in exchange for all the apples they provided.
Not to mention, I had it on reliable small-town gossip that the mayor also had been involved in a hit-and-run with another town’s beloved mascot—an unfortunate soul named Tincan Teddy.
Mr. MacElroy lost most of his funds due to his involvement in some investment scheme that had finally come to light. There would be no more luxury footscrub subscription boxes for him and his wife, but nobody had heard that from me.
Marjorie Kiln, the high school principal, had been caught bent over her desk getting railed by the janitor. A relatively minor offense, had they not accidentally hit the switch to broadcast their vocalized coupling when the school was in session.
Then, there was Sheriff Hawkins. I’m still unclear what became of her. Bale reassured me that she would never be a problem again and that she had only a one-way ticket to her destination. Something told me it wasn’t a vacation somewhere tropical and sunny.
Oh, and as for Bale and Corbin? Both were very much alive. Not to pat myself on the shoulder, but I totally did anyhow. It was all thanks to my quick thinking and a dash of luck that only a black cat could call upon.
It was hard to say if burning that damned book had any impact. I liked to think that it had made the difference between a very lonely existence and one getting to know my two guys inside and out.
The corn maze had been left singed and smoky after the incident. A clue that things had been cut a little too close for comfort before the curse imploded in on itself.
As for their shifting abilities? Still undetermined. Neither of them had bothered trying. They told me that it would tempt forth a fateful nightmare that they had already lived for too many years.
Hugging me to his side, Bale grabbed my wrist gently and raised my sticky fingers to his lips, where he slowly savored the last evidence of pumpkin fritter goodness from them.
“Mm, sweeter than ever, kitten.” He grinned, that roguish twinkle in his cornflower blue eyes promising further taste tests later. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for the moment everyone in Falston has been waiting for.”
I playfully rolled my eyes. “No, of course not. How many times do you think he will drop the word ‘kale’ in his speech?”
Scoffing, Bale slipped his fingers between mine. “It’s not the use of a leafy vegetable that I’m worried about. It’s who will start implementing it here in town. Godsdamned foul excuse for a piece of lettuce,” he muttered.
As we took our time walking back towards the festivities, Bale curiously looked at me. “What’s the deal with your dad’s whole S.P.A.R.K.L.E. bullshit anyway?”
I rolled my eyes, recalling the night Dad came home after his team lost their bowling tournament. “I don’t know. It was something he embraced during a midlife crisis, after an incident involving an Elvis impersonator, one of those claw machines, and a bucket full of nacho cheese.”
Shrugging, I effortlessly recited the seven steps. “He went on about soul searching, pride, awakenings, radiance, kale, luminosity, and extra sparkle. Decided it was his calling to help others embrace all those principles to avoid others from ‘living without living.’”
“Shit. Who knew Corbin and I had been living the past century all wrong?” He snorted in amusement before furrowing his brows in deeper thought.
“Aren’t radiance and luminosity basically the sa—”
I lifted a hand to stop him right there. “Lost cause on that one. He says radiance is what you show to others, and luminosity is how brightly you show it. Trust me, it’s been a point of contention resulting in hour-long lectures during family game nights.”
So many fucking game nights ruined.
Bale raised his hands in surrender with an amused chuckle, not questioning my dad’s S.P.A.R.K.L.E. logic any further. It was for the best.
Arriving back at the courtyard, we joined both my parents and Beth at the far corner of the platform’s base. Dr. Eloise Gibbons stood at the podium and made the official introduction to the crowd.
“It is my honor to introduce our newly elected Mayor Lenoir! Wade, why don’t you come up here and say a few words?”
Dad made his way through the crowd, jogging up the stairs to the podium, all while waving a hand at all those giving him well-deserved applause.
Even Bale was clapping for him—barely—but I had to smile at the effort he made.
I glanced around as my dad fidgeted with the microphone, resulting in a few moments of screeching feedback. Leaning over, I whispered to Bale, “Where’s Corbin? I thought he said he would be here?”
Seemingly unbothered, he shrugged. “He said he had a few things to work on and he’d meet us later.”
Before I could ask any more questions, my dad’s voice boomed from the brand-new speakers set up on the edge of the stage.
“Thank you, thank you. It is such an honor to be opening this year’s fall festival. Wow! One hundred years of tradition right here and now in the pleasant little town of Falston.” He paused as his finger suspiciously wiped beneath his eye.
Sentimental bastard.
He launched into his speech that he had made Beth and me listen to at least fifteen times this week. Each variation of it had become more emotionally charged than the one before it.
Before we had left the house tonight, he had sworn he had finally figured out his clinching one-liner to end his first official speaking engagement as Falston’s mayor.
Dad made no mention of the corn maze chase. Instead, he only focused on activities that had a little less black magic cast over them.
At the end of his opening remarks, his tone grew even more expressive, if that were even possible. Raising a single finger, he imparted some all-important advice to his constituents.
“And remember, you can’t spell S.P.A.R.K.L.E. without kale! Now, let’s go have some fall festival fun!”