Chapter 4
4
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“ M r. Blackthorn?” Jes, one of our front desk workers, waves me down when I reach the lobby.
“Morning, what’s up?” I sip my coffee, but I swear my father has ruined the taste, leaving shadows in his wake and plummeting my already middling mood.
“Sir, um, one of the guests is complaining that the birds outside his room are too loud.” Jes grimaces, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. Where’s Roman? He’s better at this bullshit than me. I have to physically snap my mouth shut to keep from telling these people to get a fucking life. It’s the middle of winter. What birds is he even hearing?
“Do we have any rooms available at the front of the hotel?” There are slightly fewer trees on the parking lot side, but we’re in the fucking woods. That’s part of the appeal.
“I offered that, sir, but he says he paid for a lake view.”
Fucking Crone. “Move him to the top floor and comp him a free breakfast at the cafe.” I’d really like to tell the guy to eat shit, but that’s not how the hospitality business works.
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir? Really? Do you make them bow as well?”
My heart stutters and then thumps a heavy beat to catch up at the sound of Avalon Vandenberg’s voice. It’s surprisingly sultry, although I doubt she intends it to be.
I spin on my heel and find the dowdy woman smirking up at me. I don’t know what it is about Ava, but she gets under my skin. Everything from her oversized poop-brown sweater, to her flat brown hair covered in a ridiculous stocking cap with a puff on the top of it. I can’t tell if she has absolutely zero sense of style, or if she’s purposefully trying to look like she crawled out of a dusty corner of a bookstore that exclusively sells self-help books.
I give her the glare that makes most people run away from me. “Yes, right after they kiss my feet. It’s good for the ego.”
She makes a strange snorting noise. “As if it needs to get any bigger.”
I cock my head and look her over. She’s wearing a pair of snow boots, some wide leg pants that are wet at the hem, and holding a cup of coffee.
“What are you doing here? That coffee is horrible. Come. Let’s go get you a real coffee.”
Mouth dropping open, her brows furrow as she looks down at her to go cup. I don’t wait for her reply before I take off toward the cafe.
“What’s wrong with my coffee?” Her boots squeak on the tile floor as she scrambles after me.
“Their coffee sucks.” I turn my head to look at her. “How do you take it?”
Ava runs into my back with a grunt when I stop at the cafe counter. She fumbles with her coffee cup and nearly drops the thing. It would be better than ingesting that swill.
“What?” She sounds breathless.
I turn around to stare at her. Did she not see me stop? Why are her cheeks pink? “How do you take it?”
“Just, like, the normal way.” She coughs and her cheeks are rosy. It takes me a moment to figure out what she means. I almost burst out laughing when I realize how she interpreted my question.
“Mother, Maiden, Crone Ava. Your coffee, how do you take your coffee?” I clarify, raising one eyebrow.
She ignores my question and allusion to her obviously dirty mind. “I didn’t know you were going to stop.”
“Walking through solid objects is not one of my magical abilities.” I gesture toward the counter that necessitated the stop. “Your order?”
“Mocha.” Even though she answers my question, she glares at me. I pluck her cup from her hand and toss it in the garbage to sounds of her protests.
“Got that Bettina?” I ask the barista.
“Yes sir,” she replies and Ava mumbles “sir” under her breath. I turn and face the witch, wondering again why she’s here.
“Did you come to the resort for a look around? Excited to see how the other half of Mystic Hollows lives now that the border between the Tenebris and Lumen covens isn’t a thing anymore?”
Ava crosses her arms. Her coat is too tight across the shoulders with her bulky sweater underneath. The fabric pulls taut, and she uncrosses them with a huff. “I’ve been sent here on a special assignment.”
I rub along my jaw, tension from the day already making me clench. “What do you do again?”
“I work for the city manager. I’ve been tasked with helping to plan the Lupin, Lupita, the Valentine’s ball thing.”
“Lupercalia,” I supply. Bettina slides over the coffee but Ava doesn’t take it. I pick it up and hold it out for her. She stares at it like it’s a snake. “I might bite, but the coffee won’t.”
Ava’s wide-eyed stare reminds me of that fucking doll up in my office. I chuckle. She snatches it out of my hand and straightens her shoulders.
“Do you have an event planner or someone at this resort who I should work with?”
“You’re looking at him.”
Ava looks horrified. She takes a drink of coffee and curses. “Shit. Too hot.” Her head turns as she takes in the cafe and the parts of the lobby we can see from here. “You’re the event planner?”
“Fuck no. But I’ve been designated as a distinguished host of this event by my father.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of man who lets other people tell you what to do.”
I cup Ava’s elbow and lead her away from the cafe and out of earshot of any employees. “When he threatens my staff, then yes, I guess I do let others boss me around.”
Ava snorts. My eyes snap down and I frown. “Why is that funny?”
She shakes her head and takes another drink of her coffee, only to curse again. It’s only been thirty seconds. It hasn’t cooled off since the last time she took a sip. We’re standing in front of the water fountain in the lobby, the water softly tinkling next to us.
“Nothing. Just staff and bossy people.”
“Are you…twelve? Are you laughing at a sexual innuendo?”
“I’m twenty-eight.” Her chin juts out. “And yes, possibly.”
“Mother, give me strength.”
“I assume by mother, you’re speaking in terms of the magical variety, and not like your mom.”
“My mother is dead.” I don’t know why I let that slip. Ava sets me off. She makes my skin itch and my fingers twitch.
She stops fidgeting, her eyes full of sympathy when she looks up at me. I’ve never paid attention to their color before. I always thought they were a plain, mousy hue, but they’re an amber brown, a color so faceted it’s hypnotic.
“I’m sorry.”
Her words jolt me out of my head. “I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s go find someplace to talk about this damn party.”
My office makes the most sense since I already have a list of requirements from the coven about the party. I usher Ava inside and she sets her coffee on the table before taking off her coat.
Her head tips back. She inhales and then mumbles under her breath. “Smells nice in here.”
“What?”
She waves me off. “Nothing.” Then she continues to mumble something about…farts, I think. What the hell?
I take my computer over to the couch that’s arranged in front of a row of windows. The sky is gray today, threatening snow at any moment. I pull up the email my father sent over. It was waiting for me right after he left my office earlier.
“This is a list of the specific requirements the coven has pulled together.” I angle the computer so Ava can see.
She leans into my side, her breast pressing into my arm as she reads the screen.
“Food. Drink. Decorations. The theme is dark fairytale masquerade.” Ava scans the list and groans. “Attendance is required for all coven members. Sure. Please come, have fun, even if you don’t want to.”
With Ava this close, her scent invades my space. With the hideous sweaters she wears, she looks like she would smell like mothballs and old clothing packed away in attics. Instead, the scent of sugared lemons, sweet and a little tangy, clings to her skin. She pulls the hat off her head and tosses it onto the table. The hairs stick up from static, but either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
I stare down at her while she reads through the email. Her lashes are long and thick. When have I ever noticed a woman’s eyelashes?
It’s none of my business and an unspoken rule to never ask, but I can’t help myself. “What’s your curse?”
Ava’s head jerks up, and she shifts away from me. “That’s kind of private. Why not ask me my bra size.”
With a will of their own, my eyes dip to her chest. Hidden beneath that atrocious sweater. She always looks like such a mess. I’ve never stopped to consider her appearance beneath the clothes. Is her skin silken? Does she have freckles? I can’t even tell the size of her breasts.
Ava clears her throat. “That wasn’t an invitation to stare at my boobs.”
“I wasn’t. I’m simply thinking.”
“About my boobs?” Ava deadpans.
She’s close enough that I see a faint scar under her eyebrow. “Do you go around giving men strange dolls all the time?”
Ava blushes, but she’s also trying not to smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You left a signed note.”
She chuckles, and it’s so light and carefree that it sends a jolt of happiness through my soul. Her shoulder lifts in a shrug. “I was just trying to brighten your day. Do you ever laugh?”
“What’s laughter? I only know how to scowl.” I scowl at her to prove my point, but have to turn away when a smile almost takes over. The dread of planning this party slowly lifts. Maybe this won’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done.
Ava nods, her smile lighting up her face. “Can confirm.”