Chapter Twenty-Eight
Austin
“Austin…have you been sewing all night?” Agatha ripped open the curtains, making Austin jolt out of his hunched slumber and topple straight to the ground.
Two ghouls shrieked, scrambling head over ass out of the room.
Lying on the ground, he stared up at the ceiling groggily.
His eyes were dehydrated, same as his mouth.
He didn’t dare sit up in fear of hearing all the bones in his body popping at the same time.
Instead, he shifted his head to stare at Agatha.
She floated by the windows, giggling at him.
“Maybe,” he confessed.
“What have you been up to, big guy?” she teased, floating down to the floor near him. He rolled onto his side, groaning at the crack in his back. Agatha tutted and shook her head. “You goofball.”
“I wanted to make her something. Then I wanted to make sure Snuffles had a matching bowtie. Then I figured I might as well use the same fabric to make myself a shirt. But why stop at a shirt, when you taught me to make suit pants, so I started…”
“And just forgot to stop?” Agatha tilted her head to the side playfully. The sly smirk on her lips said she knew exactly how he felt.
“Yeah,” he exhaled, rubbing the back of his head tiredly.
“You know, instead of holing up in the office all night, you could have just asked for my help?”
“I wanted to do it.” He shrugged with one shoulder. Finally pushing an arm against the ground, he climbed up to a seated position. “I wanted to make her something.”
“You already did.” Agatha shivered with a grimace. “That unsettling teddy bear.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty fluffy,” Austin chuckled.
He pulled himself up to his feet and turned to the table to study his work.
He’d almost finished his suit vest. Her dress just needed to be pressed.
And Snuffles’ bowtie was done. It actually made him feel proud.
“I want to take her dancing. Make her feel like a princess out of a fairytale instead of a person in a ghost story. Take her mind off things.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Agatha gasped.
But then again, Aggie needs no reason for a ballgown.
Floating up, she came to the table, inspecting his work with her fingers tapping against her chin.
She hummed as she bobbed about. Fingers plucking at panels in the dress, then at his pants. With a giant smile, she nodded at him.
He held his breath in anticipation, “It’s good?”
“It’s amazing. Why don’t you leave me to press the seams and finish the buttons on your vest. Hyacinth’s downstairs, probably bored stiff of Greggory’s storytelling. Both of you could use a nap. By the time you wake up, I’ll have the ballroom set up and we can all go dancing after dinner?”
“Really?” Austin grinned, releasing all the air in his lungs in relief. She sent him a flat, disapproving stare.
“You know I don’t joke about a ball.” Agatha scrutinized his face. Then with a tut, she summoned her iron to her hands.
“You are pretty serious about them,” Austin chortled.
“Good, now shoo. Go on. Get!” Agatha pressed the cold iron to his back playfully as he was ushered out of the room.
Austin let the banshee throw him out into the halls of the manor.
He glanced over his shoulder at the shut door and couldn’t help the giddiness creeping up in him.
We need this. The whole house needs this.
There was just something about a ball that put a smile on people’s face.
Ridiculously large gowns, food, music, and dancing.
Oh, he couldn’t wait to show Hyacinth how good he was at dancing.
He did his best not to skip to the library, fear of rattling the walls as he did.
There was a distinct pep in his step as he rounded the hallway.
A light song trickled out of his throat in a soft hum.
Austin pushed open the library doors that groaned in sleepy protest. Welcomed in by the dying fire, the room was a gentle warm temperature that begged him to curl up in the bear skin rug.
Sleep. It enticed him until he came upon the large chairs and found both Greggory and Hyacinth fast asleep.
His little brother was surrounded by stacks of books around his chair.
A ghoul was curled up in his lap with him while one of the many ghosts read over his shoulder.
The tall, elven ghost flipped the page with a flick of his hand.
He barely acknowledged Austin as the giant undead turned to Hyacinth.
She was tucked under a throw blanket. Tears streaked her cheeks and he would have been worried if there wasn’t an empty vial of Squonk tears beside her.
Scooping his arms under her, he pried her free only to hear the distinct clink of two knitting needles hitting the floor. Hyacinth whined, “No, I’m almost done.”
He realized the blanket she was under was actually part of a jewel-toned project. Austin stopped to admire its length and even pattern. “Did you knit this all night?”
“Hmm?” She furrowed her brow before her weary eyes blinked open. Everything melted away the moment her lips curled and she breathed his name, “Austin.”
“Good morning, my flower,” he whispered, bending as carefully as he could to gather up the little lump of yarn left and the needles she dropped. “Did you stay up all night knitting?”
“Greggory was telling me about—” she cut herself off with a hard, rattling yawn. Then with a smack of her lips, she continued with a hum, “Old Fae. I needed to keep my hands busy so I could pay attention.”
Austin nodded, leaving Greggory to sleep in his favorite place while he took his flower to bed.
Greggory was perfectly comfortable in the large armchairs.
The plush furniture was like a perfect hammock for the crypt keeper.
They were, however, very bad for spines like Hyacinth’s.
Careful of her wings, he took her and all her yarn with him.
The scampering of claws gave him pause. He glanced over his shoulder and watched a round, black fluff chase after them sluggishly.
“Oh! Snuffles, there you are.”
Austin twisted, holding the library door open for the bunny.
Snuffles led the way around the bending hallways of the manor and up the steps.
By the time they all made it to the room, the three of them were tuckered out.
Austin plopped the knitting accessories on the side table, Hyacinth in the sheets, and Snuggles at the foot of the bed.
He’d hardly slipped down into it before he felt lips against his brow.
The smile couldn’t be wiped off his face even if he scrubbed it with steel wool.
“Sweet dreams, Austin,” Hyacinth breathed as she curled up in his arms.
“Sweet dreams,” he murmured back, locking her into his arms. Even with the curtains open and sunlight spilling into the room, they fell fast asleep.
And, while he wouldn’t say they were sweet dreams…at least they weren’t his nightmares.
Saltwater burns. It rushed up his nose as he swam.
Kicking his legs as hard as he could, he fought to keep his head above water.
The fucking witch cackled. Shrieked with delight as she struck the water with more purple lightning.
It lit up his whole body. Everything went rigid, unable to escape the invisible restraints of her magic.
She walked across the water. Long legs so beautiful and yet ominous.
Everything about the witch was a dark cloud.
Long, obsidian black hair flowed around her face.
Eyes glowing yellow, a raven perched on her shoulder, she was a beautiful nightmare.
She was death. And as she crouched in front of him, taking him by the tusks, she purred directly into his face. “Give in…it’ll hurt less.”
Never should have let that witch aboard the ship.
She snapped his tusks off his face as the St. Augustine sank around him.
Broken into nothing but parts, the woman with wild, evil eyes stared at him with glee.
He descended. Slowly, like she’d weighed him down with rocks.
Tucking away his tusks into her sack, like she did with all the other parts of his crew she’d taken.
Never trust a witch. Never trust those yellowed-eyed Old Fae.
Water. Endless water. That’s the last thing he saw until all the light went out. And he sank into oblivion.
Austin didn’t know where the feeling came from.
He only knew it was delightful. His whole body tingled.
If he were capable of gooseflesh, he’d be covered in it.
Something brushed against his chest, then the tops of his thighs.
A curious palm, fingertips softer than a butterfly’s wings, explored his skin under his shirt.
Then it traveled across his hips down to his thighs.
Up then down in a lazy, sweet pattern, it roused him from his slumber.
Inch by inch, like an anchor at the bottom of the sea being drug aboard.
It took forever, but what a glorious eternity it was.
He groaned as fingers dipped below the confines of his pants.
Her fingers brushed down along his sensitive skin on the inside of his leg.
It was only after he cracked open his eyes that he even realized Hyacinth was the one drawing little swirls with her fingers around his skin.
Another groan left him as her fingers dared closer to his pelvis.
His cock was on high alert. Clearly the sensations were doing wonders for him, but the moment he was conscious it was her teasing his flesh, his cock ached.
He replayed their day before and his legs shifted involuntarily.
“Good morning,” he whispered, testing the waters.
“Good morning,” she parroted back in a far raspier tone than him. It ran a shiver down his spine. Then her fingers curled around his thick base and his eyes fluttered back shut. Her little giggle against his chest sent him into a tizzy.