6. Last Christmas （I Gave You Amnesia） #2
She moved like a lightning storm trapped in a human body, all barely contained power and imminent destruction.
Her dark hair was cut in a sharp bob that managed to look both elegant and vaguely dangerous, like a switchblade at a garden party.
She wore a blazer that probably cost more than Jasper’s car, but she walked like someone spoiling for a fight.
Jasper suddenly realized he’d forgotten to breathe.
“Delilah!” called Nine. “Welcome home, stranger!”
The old men all called out warm hellos, but the woman—Delilah—barely acknowledged their greeting.
Her attention was fixed on the casino tower with an expression that suggested she was calculating how to disassemble it, one brick at a time.
And something about her presence suggested she’d probably succeed.
Her companion touched her arm. “Del, wait. The hardware store is the perfect place for you to learn what’s been happening.”
“Learn what, exactly?” Delilah’s voice crackled with irritation. “Listen, Scarlett, unless they’re selling industrial-grade wrecking balls, I don’t see how?—”
Nine cleared his throat. “Ladies? Perhaps I could introduce our friend Jasper? He’s the county archivist.”
“Delightful,” Delilah said flatly. “Fascinating. But right now, I’m focused on that monstrosity up there.”
“About that,” said Twelve, grinning. “Hold that thought. Company’s coming.”
The sound hit them first: the distinctive wheeze of air brakes presaged the arrival of the most garish tour bus Jasper had ever seen.
Its sides were painted with dancing rabbits emerging from top hats, accompanied by the words “HAVEN OF HORRORS TOUR: WHERE EVIL NEVER DIES!” in a font that appeared to be bleeding glitter.
A woman’s voice crackled through speakers mounted on the bus’s exterior: “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re now entering the heart of darkness itself—Oak Haven!
Imagine, if you dare, a town where the infamous Salem witches might still practice their dark arts.
.. if our brave forefathers hadn’t put a stop to their reign of terror! ”
Delilah gasped. “What the fuck is happening right now?”
“Steady on,” Scarlett said quietly.
“That’s right, folks,” the guide continued as the bus slowed to a crawl. “Every ‘resident’ you see is actually a trained actor, helping us recreate the spine-chilling atmosphere of colonial witch hysteria!”
The bus lurched to a stop, wheezing like an asthmatic dragon. A woman emerged from the bus, wearing a top hat, tails, and round reflective sunglasses that made her look like a steampunk John Lennon. A small group of tourists filed out behind their guide.
“And here we have one of our most popular photo opportunities,” she announced with a theatrical flourish.
“The authentic colonial hardware store, still operated by the same family of...retired pirates! Note the inappropriate Christmas decorations, showing how the witches corrupted even the most sacred of holidays, mocking our ancestors with their pagan ways! C’mon, folks, say hello to the witches and their pirate companions—if you dare! ”
The tourists swarmed the porch, firing questions at the group. Jasper glanced around and could see that the two women looked ready to murder the visitors with their bare hands. The Earls, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of their very long lives.
“Is it true pirates and witches were allies?” someone asked.
“Oh sure.” Nine nodded sagely. “Who do you think gave Blackbeard his famous beard? Magical hair tonic, that was.”
“Did you really make people walk the plank?”
“Only on Tuesdays,” replied Ten. “Wednesdays were for keelhauling, and Thursdays we just threw people to the kraken.”
“You don’t look like a real witch,” a young boy called out to Scarlett.
“I am a real witch,” Scarlett replied. “And not a ‘reenactor,’ no matter what your guide says.”
The boy’s mother smiled happily. “That’s exactly what a good reenactor would say. Always staying in character! Very good.”
“Is it true that witches can’t cross moving water?” called out a man in a HORROR HAVEN T-shirt.
“I think that’s vampires,” Scarlett replied.
“Can you turn people into newts?”
“Why would we want to?”
“Do you actually float?”
“Only after a really big lunch.”
Delilah rounded on her sister. “Don’t play games with these people.”
“What difference does it make?” Scarlett shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what we say.”
“Well, it should!”
“She’s right,” Jasper heard himself say. And not just because she’s the most remarkable creature I’ve ever seen . “You can’t just make up history. Facts are facts.”
“Ehhh, reckon we may as well enjoy ourselves,” Twelve said with a grin. “None of them will remember it anyway. On the upside, Jasper, you won’t remember how much this bothered you.”
Jasper’s attention drifted back to Delilah, and he realized with a start that he wouldn’t remember her tomorrow, either.
“Barely a dozen tourists in that big bus of yours?” Delilah took a step forward, and her challenging voice carried across the porch. “Wow. Business is really booming, huh?”
The tour guide’s smile turned sharp. “Just warming up, honey. Not all of us can coast on inherited family magic forever. Some of us actually have to earn our power.”
“Is that what you call it? Stealing a few cheap tricks and pretending it makes you special?”
“At least we’re honest about what we do.” The guide adjusted her top hat with deliberate precision. “We don’t hide behind some fake New England facade. Face it—your kind’s time is over. These days, people want magic they can understand. Magic they can buy tickets to.”
“ Are they fighting ?” The young boy whispered to his mother. “Is this part of the show?”
“Shh, of course it is,” his mother replied. But she instinctively pulled her son closer, just in case.
“You wouldn’t recognize real magic if I turned you into a toad.” Delilah stomped down from the porch to confront the magician face to face. “Which, by the way, I could do. Without smoke or mirrors or whatever sad little mechanism you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.”
“Ohh, could you?” The guide’s expression was pure venom now. “Go ahead then, let’s see what you’ve got. All that power, and what do you do with it? Run a shitty bed-and-breakfast that barely breaks even. At least we’re building something.”
Scarlett nudged Jasper. “Sorry about my sister,” she told him quietly. “She’s not great with... well, people in general. But especially people in top hats who insult our family business.”
“A B&B?” Jasper tried to sound interested, but he was preoccupied memorizing every detail of Delilah’s profile. The fierce tilt of her chin. The crackle in the air around her, like static electricity with a grudge.
“The Stargazer Inn.” Scarlett nodded. “Been in our family for generations. Speaking of family...” She turned to the Earls with a grin. “How are my future fathers-in-law, grandfathers-in-law, and such like?”
“We’re all very well,” Nine replied. “Though we wish Nate would hurry up and make an honest woman of you.”
“You know him,” Scarlett laughed. “Everything in his own sweet time. Hey, Del,” she called to her sister. “Maybe let’s chill out a bit, okay?”
All the while, Jasper kept his gaze locked on Delilah.
As she stalked down to the bus, it was apparent she wouldn’t be chilling out anytime soon.
“You’re not building anything except bullshit,” she lectured the guide.
“You’re selling lies to tourists who don’t know any better.
Of course, none of them are able to post about their ‘authentic witch-town experience’ online.
Having some technical difficulties with those Instagram influencers? ”
“Technical difficulties are temporary . Unlike, say, an entire town trapped in the past because they’re too scared to join the modern world.
Tell me, does it bother you, knowing you’ll end up like Salem?
Just another sad little footnote in someone else’s story?
” The tour guide turned away from Delilah’s withering stare to her charges.
“Don’t forget, folks—after the tour, join us back at the Houdini Hotel and Casino for our spectacular ‘Burn the Witch’ revue, featuring death-defying illusions that will have you believing in actual magic! ”
“I’ll show you some actual magic—” Delilah removed her wand from her coat and pointed it toward the sky.
“Del!” Scarlett shouted. “Not now!”
Jasper looked worriedly from one sister to the other. What the hell is going on?!
“They want to see some magic, right?” Delilah said. “Let’s show them.”
“Del, dammit! Not now! Come on !”
Delilah glanced up at the porch, and Jasper could feel her rage even at a distance.
He made a mental note to never, ever be the cause of an expression like that.
But after a moment, Delilah seemed to take in her sister’s panicked expression, and she slowly lowered her arm. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
“Whatever you say, darling.” The tour guide plastered her smile back on. “Let’s get back on the bus, everybody. And when we return, be sure to visit our gift shop for authentic replicas of witch-hunter weaponry!” She stared meaningfully at Del. “You never know when you might need some.”
Delilah marched back up to the porch, her hands still crackling with barely contained power. But she was looking at Jasper now, really looking at him, as though seeing him for the first time.
“They said you’re a historian of some sort? So you must know what actually happened in Salem?” she asked quietly.
He nodded but then frowned slightly. “Well, in fact... I knew what I thought happened. But the Earls here explained to me about the founding of Oak Haven, so clearly the official story didn’t include everything.”
“But you understand why we can’t let that tour group turn our history into a sideshow attraction. We can’t let them make it into something it wasn’t—you get that, right?”
“I do, of course. Your ancestors’ decision to abandon the other women, while painful, is also what makes your town what it is today.
” Jasper surprised himself by reaching for her hand.
More surprising—she let him take it. “But there has to be a better way to fight off that tour bus than giving them exactly the magic show they want.”
“I suppose you have a point, Mr. Archivist.”
“Please,” he managed through suddenly dry lips, “call me Jasper.”
“All right, Jasper.” The ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“Ohmigod, look at them!” one of the tourists squeaked happily. “Are they doing a meet-cute? Are they, like, Phoebe and Cooper on Charmed ?”
The tour guide herded the visitors back on their bus, making one final snippy comment about “actors who take themselves too seriously.” The bus pulled away, its garish paint job catching the winter sun.
And high above, the casino’s mirrored windows reflected it all: the bus, the hardware store, and the town beyond.
The Earls surrounded Delilah, forcing hugs on her as they welcomed her home and demanded the details on her travels.
Jasper moved off to the side, a little uncomfortable as a spectator to the reunion. He thought about the postcard he’d been carrying around in his pocket, about all his previous failed attempts to remember this place. About how many times he must have discovered Oak Haven, only to lose it again.
About how he couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting her.
He pulled out his phone, his fingers moving before his brain could catch up. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail.
“Hi, Toby? Yeah, it’s Jasper. Listen..
. I won’t be in tomorrow. Or the next day.
Or... actually, I’m not sure when I’ll be back.
I need to do some research. In-depth research.
The kind that requires...” He glanced at Delilah again, then up at the looming casino. “The kind that requires a longer stay.”