Chapter 19
The house was too quiet.
Forbes had grown accustomed to Herrick House’s particular brand of chaos—children thundering upstairs, Alan’s deep voice carrying from the kitchen, Lilith’s laughter threading through it all.
But tonight the children were at Celia’s, and the adults moved through the rooms with a hushed purposefulness that made the silence feel deliberate.
Like the house itself was holding its breath.
“Ye’re brooding,” Alan said, appearing beside him in the library doorway.
“I’m thinking.”
“Aye, with that face.” Alan handed him a glass of whisky. “Brooding.”
Forbes accepted the glass but didn’t drink. “Tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night.”
“What should I expect?”
Alan was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant.
“Seven years ago, when Soni sent me through... it was like nothing I can describe. One moment I was on the moor, trapped between worlds. The next I was here—Salem—gasping for breath I hadnae needed in centuries. Feeling grass under my hands. Hearing my heart beat for the first time since Culloden.” His voice roughened with memory.
“And this time?”
“This time something’s trying tae come the other direction. Something that’s been waiting.” Alan met his eyes. “Lilith explained it tae me. Three hundred years ago, Gwen’s ancestor sealed something that should never have touched this world. Tomorrow... Gwen has to seal it again.”
Forbes thought about the Common last night. The fog, the cold, Gwen blazing like a beacon while spirits swirled around her. She’d been amazing—powerful in a way that still made his chest ache to remember.
She’d also been terrified. He’d seen it in her eyes afterward, underneath the triumph.
“She can do it,” Forbes said. It wasn’t a question.
“Aye, she can.” Alan’s expression softened. “But it willnae be easy. And she’ll need someone steady beside her. Someone who believes without needing proof.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I know.” Alan clasped his shoulder briefly. “That’s why we’re having this conversation instead of me threatening to run ye through if ye hurt her.”
“Ye still could. Threaten, I mean.”
“Where’s the sport in that? Ye’ve already proven yerself.” A ghost of a smile crossed Alan’s face. “Besides, Lilith would kill me if I damaged the man who finally made Gwen believe in herself.”
Forbes huffed a laugh despite himself. “I didnae do that. She did.”
“Ye helped. Sometimes that’s all love is—helping someone see what was always there.” Alan nodded toward the sitting room. “She’s in there. Go. Tomorrow will be hard enough without wasting tonight on worry.”
Gwen was curled in the window seat, watching the street below.
The Halloween decorations had reached their crescendo—every house blazing with orange lights, every yard crowded with tombstones and cobwebs and grinning skeletons.
Tomorrow night the sidewalks would overflow with trick-or-treaters, blissfully unaware of the real magic happening just out of sight.
“Hey,” Forbes said softly.
She turned, and her smile—tired, genuine, slightly fragile around the edges—made his heart turn over.
“Hey, yourself.” She shifted to make room, and he settled beside her on the cushion, his shoulder pressing against hers. “Alan give you the ‘take care of her’ speech?”
“More of a ‘she can handle herself but be there anyway’ speech.”
“That sounds like Alan.”
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the street. A group of teenagers passed, already in costume, laughing and shoving each other. A father walked by with a small witch on his shoulders, her pointed hat askew.
“I keep thinking about Martha Corey,” Gwen said quietly. “Last night. The look on her face when she realized it had been three hundred years.”
“Ye helped her. Ye helped all of them.”
“I know. But—” She turned to face him, tucking her legs beneath her. “Tomorrow it won’t be confused spirits. It’ll be something that wants through. Something that’s been pushing against the seal for centuries.”
“Are ye scared?”
“Terrified.” She laughed, a little raw. “My whole life I thought I was the weak one. The Bishop witch who couldn’t light a candle without it exploding. And now everyone’s counting on me to seal something that took my ancestor everything she had.”
“What do ye need?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard. “What?”
“What do ye need? Tonight, tomorrow, whenever. Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
Her eyes went bright. “I need you to believe I can do this. Even when I don’t believe it myself.”
“Already done.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What else?”
“I need you to stay. Whatever happens. Even if it’s terrifying.”
“Also done.” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “What else?”
“I need—” Her voice cracked. “I need you to know that whatever happens tomorrow, these past few weeks have been the best of my life. Meeting you. Falling in love with you. Finally understanding who I actually am.” She caught his hand, pressing her cheek into his palm.
“You gave me that. You and your stubborn belief and your stupid defensiveness about oral tradition.”
“It’s no’ stupid,” Forbes said automatically. “It’s academically rigorous.”
Gwen huffed a wet little laugh. “You literally yelled at a tourist.”
“I didnae yell. I… projected with conviction.”
Her smile trembled—half amusement, half emotion—and it undid him.
Forbes’s throat was too tight for words.
He leaned in and kissed her instead—soft, slow, trying to pour everything he felt into it.
Her hand slid up to curl around the back of his neck, and for a long moment there was nothing but this: warmth, connection, the steady rhythm of two hearts that had somehow found their way to each other.
When they broke apart, she was smiling. Really smiling.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love ye too.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “And tomorrow night, I’ll be right there. Not because ye need protecting—ye don’t—but because that’s where I belong. Beside ye. Whatever comes.”
“Whatever comes,” she echoed.
The coven arrived an hour later.
Forbes watched from the library doorway as the house filled with women—Iris first, then Sydney, then others he half-recognized from the festival. They embraced Gwen one by one, murmuring encouragement, pressing small tokens into her hands.
“For your courage,” Iris whispered, placing a sprig of rowan into her palm.
“For your strength,” Sydney added, a small stone warm from her pocket.
“For your heart,” Courtney finished, tying a red thread around Gwen’s wrist.
Protective charms. Offerings of strength. The coven armoring their own.
“You don’t have to hide in here,” Lilith said, appearing beside him with two cups of tea. “They won’t bite.”
“I dinnae want tae intrude.”
“Forbes.” She handed him a cup, her expression warm but knowing. “You witnessed Gwen’s magic without flinching. You told her you loved her while she was still glowing from guiding the dead.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not intruding. You’re family.”
“I’m the only man in a room full of witches,” Forbes murmured. “Forgive me if I’m cautious.”
“Alan survived,” Lilith said.
“Alan has a sword. I have a pen and increasingly questionable life choices.”
He found Gwen in the center of the sitting room, her coven arranged around her in a loose circle. She looked up when he entered, and her expression shifted—relief, maybe, or recognition.
She held out her hand.
Forbes crossed the room and took it.
“This is Forbes,” Gwen said to the assembled witches. “He’s mine.”
“We know, dear,” Iris said, her eyes crinkling. “We’ve known since he defended oral tradition on your ghost tour.”
Forbes felt his ears warm. “It was one argument,” he muttered.
“Sweetheart,” Sydney said, “in academic circles that counts as foreplay.”
Gwen choked on a laugh. Forbes decided the floor could open up any time now.
“He’ll be there tomorrow night,” Gwen said. “Beside me. I wanted you all to know.”
Sydney caught Forbes’s eye from across the circle. Her expression was assessing, but not unkind. “You understand what you’re signing up for? Tomorrow won’t be pretty.”
“I understand.”
“And you’re not going to run?”
“No.” The word came out steady, certain. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Sydney studied him for a long moment. Then she smiled—the first real smile she’d ever given him.
“Good,” she said. “Then welcome to the coven. Unofficially.”
“Very unofficially,” Courtney added. “We’re not actually sure what to do with a non-magical member.”
“I’ll take notes,” Forbes offered. “Document the historical significance.”
More laughter. Gwen squeezed his hand, her eyes bright.
The planning continued—positions, timing, contingencies Forbes only half understood. But he stayed, listening, learning, watching Gwen transform from nervous to focused as the work of preparation grounded her.
This was her world. Her community. Her power.
And somehow, impossibly, she’d made room for him in it.
The house emptied slowly as midnight approached. Hugs, murmured blessings, promises to reconvene tomorrow at dusk. Finally, it was just the two of them, standing on the porch, watching the last of the coven’s cars disappear.
“Big day tomorrow,” Gwen said.
“The biggest.”
“Scared?”
“Terrified,” Forbes admitted. “But also...” He searched for the word. “Honored. Tae be here. To witness this. To be beside ye.”
She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder. “I’m glad you came to Salem, Forbes MacLeod.”
“I’m glad I stayed.”
Above them, the October sky was cloudless, stars scattered like salt across black velvet. Tomorrow that sky would hold magic—real magic, the kind that sealed darkness and protected the living from what pushed against the veil.
Tonight, it just held stars. And two people who’d found each other against all odds.
“Get some sleep,” Gwen said finally. “Tomorrow we save the world.”
“Just Salem, I thought.”
“Salem first. World later.” She kissed his cheek, lingering.
“And here I thought I was coming for genealogy records.”
“You got those too.”
“Aye, plus ghosts, witches, and a woman who glows.” He smiled. “Best research trip I’ve ever had.”
“Goodnight, Forbes.”
“Goodnight, love.”
He watched her walk to her car, watched the taillights disappear around the corner. The October air bit cold against his face. Somewhere down the street, a jack-o’-lantern flickered its last, and Herrick House creaked softly behind him, settling into the silence.
Then he went inside, climbed the stairs to his room, and lay in the dark, listening to the old house breathe around him.
Tomorrow would bring chaos and magic and something ancient pushing against the seal.
Tonight, there was just this: quiet, hope, and the steady certainty that whatever came, he’d face it with the woman he loved.
It was enough.
It was everything.