Chapter 15
Sabine
There was one thing witches had in abundance, and that was really, really good wine. Iris had used a spell to snag some of Dagmar’s stash from the cabin on the hill.
My sister and I sat on a bench by the edge of the lake, hidden between two tall maples as we watched the sun set. I took another swig and stared at the obsidian bottle. The label was handmade, with a note written in wax about the moon cycle the bottle had been corked under.
“How old do you think this wine is?” I mused.
Iris grabbed the bottle from me and drank it. “I don’t know. Probably over a hundred years, I’d guess,” she said. “We like old things in our coven.”
“The older, the better,” I agreed.
“Speaking of—”
“There’s no way you’re attempting to use that statement to segue into prying questions about my love life.”
“Watch me,” Iris said, waggling her eyebrows at me.
“Iris,” I bemoaned. “Don’t.”
“You’ve been sulking for weeks,” she pointed out. “I see the way you look at that new witch with the Amélie bob. Gwen, was it? She’s hot. Why not just ask her out?”
She wasn’t wrong. In the few weeks that Gwen and I had been trying to avoid each other for the sake of our individual plans, I’d been moodier than a redcap who’d lost his bloody cap.
“Ask her out on what? A date to the firepit?” I grumbled, kicking the leaves beneath my sneakers.
“I don’t know, a romantic rendezvous in the forest, maybe?”
“Need I remind you, it was you who warned me against sleeping with campers,” I said pointedly. “Tell me, Iris, how many years have you added to your counselor tally for sleeping with fellow witches, hmm?”
My sister shot me a look. “Did you really get Stockholm syndrome and decide to return year upon year? Those extra years weren’t really volunteering, were they?”
She let out a long sigh and passed the wine back to me. “You get mean when you’re drinking. I thought this might cheer you up.”
“Is that what this is? Pity wine for your sexually frustrated sister?”
“I’m looking out for my friend.”
“I’m not your friend,” I countered. “Not like Jordyn.”
Jordyn was Iris’s best friend, roommate, and co-worker at the Poison Apple Apothecary.
They did practically everything together, and I’d always been jealous of how close they’d been growing up.
I’d been the tagalong younger sister on all of their adventures.
Eventually, I’d gotten the hint and stopped trying to be the third wheel.
Iris leaned a shoulder into me. “You’re more than my friend. You’re my sister.”
I frowned. Curse her. She was an undeniably good friend and big sister. The best, really. But still, I didn’t appreciate her meddlesome ways.
“I just need to get through the summer,” I said. “I can’t have some pretty little witch distracting me, and she’s moving back to the city after camp, so . . .”
“Well, how fortuitous that you’re also planning on moving to the city.”
“Not if I don’t graduate into the coven,” I countered. “Mom will want me to stay at home until I become a full member. There’s no way she’d let me move out without all my powers solidified.”
“Well then, just be Gwen’s friend for now,” Iris reasoned as if it were so easy. “Be cool. Keep your dick in your pants.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Keep my dick in my pants?”
She persisted with that knowing look. “Unless you can’t control yourself around her because she’s just so hot?”
“I . . .” Moon curse her, why did it have to be true? I already believed in insta-love—I was a lesbian, for crying out loud—but never had I had such a hard time keeping it under wraps than I did with Gwen. She was just so witty and gorgeous and cool without trying to be, and—
I was saved from my swirling thoughts by a waft of cigarette smoke.
“Hey!” I turned to find a shadowy figure. “This camp has a no-smoking—”
The furthest thing from a camper leaned against the tree, the end of her cigarette glowing gold and bloodred as a halo of smoke circled her before drifting skyward. She seemed like shadows incarnate with her long, slicked-back hair and eerie silver eyes.
I knew instantly what she was: a demon.
Iris practically leaped off the bench. “Ramona!” she squeaked, trying to tame a few wild locks of hair around her face. Even in the shadows, I knew my sister was blushing. “Hi.”
“Hello, little witch,” Ramona purred, flicking her cigarette into the air. It vanished before it had a chance to hit the ground.
“I still have several weeks until my time is up,” Iris said.
I spun on my sister so fast, it gave me whiplash. “You sold your soul to a demon?”
Ramona’s laugh was low and gravelly. “I wish.”
“I just agreed to a date in exchange for some information, that’s all.” Iris looked from me to Ramona as if she couldn’t take her eyes off her. “And I will make good on it before the year is out.”
“Good,” Ramona said, her stare so sharp that it could cut glass. “Because crossing me wouldn’t be wise.”
“Okay, I’m starting to see the appeal,” I murmured to Iris. “She’s giving real suit-mommy vibes.”
“Shut it,” Iris gritted out. “What are you doing here, Ramona?”
“Yeah.” I suddenly realized. “This camp is warded against non-witches. How did you get past our magic?”
Ramona’s smile was feral with sharp canines that glinted in the moonlight. “You think your little coven spells can keep me out?”
The full weight of her gaze made me shudder, and I knew then that Iris was totally fucked. Ramona’s seduction was like a heavy undertow, pulling, gripping, and Iris was practically levitating at the allure.
But instead of admitting it, Iris folded her arms and popped her hip. “What do you want?”
That only seemed to delight Ramona further, and I suddenly felt like I was a voyeur. I wished I could fade into the bushes at the heat radiating between them.
“I was wondering if you wanted an extension on our deal, love?” Ramona asked. “If you want more time to think about our date?”
The way she said “date” made it sound like it was anything but.
“I . . .”
“What will it cost her?” I asked and immediately wished I hadn’t spoken when Ramona’s eyes landed on me.
Even Ramona’s shrug was cold. “A kiss.”
I snorted. “She’s not going to kiss—”
“Agreed!” Iris declared, shooting forward.
“What happened to keeping our dicks in our pants?” I muttered, but Iris ignored me and walked straight toward Ramona like a moth to a flame.
Ramona’s eyes locked on Iris, a smile cresting her lips. Iris lifted on her tiptoes and planted a quick, chaste kiss on Ramona’s mouth, but before she could pull away, Ramona’s hand shot out and wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her back in.
Their kiss deepened, and Iris melted into it. Sweet moon goddess. The sound of her moan snapped me out of my trance as they started devouring each other.
“I’m just going to, uh, go,” I said, taking the wine with me.
Of course, neither of them heard me because they were too busy eating each other’s faces.
As I stumbled through the woods, my cheeks were hot and my body thrummed.
Was everyone in this camp getting some apart from me?
It felt like it. Normally, that kiss wouldn’t have riled me up so much.
We were witches, after all. We liked to have fun in the moonlight and shadows.
But my insides turned into molten ore when I thought about the person I wished I could unleash myself upon like that.
My mind immediately flashed a sleek black bob, dark, mischievous eyes, and pouty lips that were going to break me if I didn’t kiss them soon.
Gwen.
Curse the moon, I must be ovulating. I really missed my vibrator and my bedroom, which had actual freaking walls and soundproofing.
I hastily retreated to the cabin, only to find a lone figure sitting on the bottom step.
“You’re meant to be in the cabin after lights out, Astrid,” I said, my libido suddenly cooling.
Astrid was like a shock of cold water as she stood and swished her hips over to me, taking the bottle from my hand and swigging back a giant gulp.
“Aw, you saved some for me,” she crooned, rocking back and forth in a way that I guessed was meant to be cutesy but instead just made me want to gag. She kept drinking . . . and drinking . . . chugging nearly the rest of the bottle before I yanked it away from her.
“Okay, enough,” I grumbled.
Technically, she was underage by human standards, but witchlings started dipping into the sacred wine from a much younger age. Still, I was sure Dagmar would have some feelings about me getting a camper drunk on her stolen wine.
Astrid reached for my hand. “Want to go for a walk?”
I twisted my torso to move away without outright yanking my hand back. I didn’t want to poke this bear. She could make my life a living hell. But damn, she was making it hard to be civil. When was she going to catch the hint?
Maybe my next fireside talk would be about reading signals. Clearly, she needed a refresher.
“Astrid.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “You know the camp rules. I want this summer to be my last, and it won’t be if things between us keep going like this.”
“So there are things between us?”
Leave it to Astrid to only hear what she wanted to.
“Even if there were,” I continued diplomatically, “I need to graduate this year, and I’m moving to the city when the summer ends.”
That seemed to douse ice on her libido in turn. She pulled back like I’d struck her. “You’re not staying with the coven?”
“I’ll be a member of the coven still, but I just want something different. I’ll come visit.”
She guffawed, a sneer morphing her face. “You are just like that outsider’s traitorous mother,” she seethed. “You think you’re better than us? You think you’ll be happy in the outside world?”
“I just—”
“No,” she growled, twisting and stomping up the steps. “Way to turn your back on your own kind.”
My stomach plummeted to my sneakers. It should’ve been a relief to have Astrid finally turned off, but her vitriol didn’t feel good.
I wanted to make a life for myself, but the thought of doing so constantly filled me with guilt, and I didn’t want people to think I was turning my back on the coven.
I wouldn’t be like Gwen’s mom, who’d cut all ties to Maple Hollow, but damn.
I waited a few minutes before heading back into the cabin, suddenly feeling like the smallest person alive.