28. Freddie
Freddie
Two weeks later
“Jett, I swear to God, if you don’t move your oversized rear end out of the middle of the floor, I am going to trip over you and break my neck,” I say, nudging his flank gently with the toe of my shoe.
Jett shoots me a heavy, golden-eyed glare that practically screams try me, then slowly hauls himself up, sauntering over to the patch of afternoon sunlight near the front window to collapse with a dramatic sigh.
Ever since I stepped into the Veil and tumbled back out two weeks ago, he’s been acting like my furry, four-legged shadow.
If I go to the bathroom, he’s pressing his nose against the crack under the door.
If I sit down to check inventory, he’s draped across my ankles, as if he’s genuinely convinced that if he turns his back for five seconds, I’m going to vanish into thin air again.
“I’m just saying,” Stella says from behind the front counter, sliding a fresh stack of seventies folk vinyl into a wooden crate.
“I still can’t believe my best friend is such a badass.
I mean, I always knew you had it in you, but pulling six lost souls out of a rift in the fabric of space and time? That’s next-level legendary, Win.”
I force a laugh, running my rag over the glass display case of the cash wrap, though the sound comes out flat even to my own ears. “It was no biggie, Stel.”
“It was a big biggie,” Stella counters, narrowing her eyes at me as she sets down a record. She leans over the counter, tapping the surface between us. “You used your magic, you held the line, and you didn’t let your fear win. That is a massive deal, Freddie. Stop trying to brush it under the rug.”
Deep down, in the quietest corners of my brain, I know she’s right.
I know I should be proud. The entire town of Amberhollow went completely wild when I brought Sabine and the others back out.
Mayor Brightfang threw a massive autumn festival in my honor in the town square, complete with hot spiced cider, a five-piece bluegrass band, and a banner with my name on it.
It was wildly awkward. I spent three hours hiding behind Delphi’s pie table trying to avoid making speeches, because every time someone clapped for me, my chest just felt hollow. Empty.
Because the one person I wanted to share it with was hundreds of miles away—or worse case scenario, sitting in a kitchen completely oblivious to the fact that I even existed.
“She’s just being a mope,” Twyla chimed in from her perch on top of the brass register. She’s lounging on a velvet ring cushion, her tiny knees pulled up to her chest. “She’s been a total dark cloud ever since Callum left.”
“Hey!” I snap, tossing my polishing rag at her, though she easily flits two inches to the left to dodge it. “I am not a mope.”
“Winifred,” Twyla says, crossing her arms. “You’ve been wailing ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You’’ by Olivia Newton-John in the shower every single morning for fourteen straight days. The acoustics in your bathroom are terrible, by the way.”
I squint at her. “Wow. Thanks, Twy. I really appreciate the feedback. Can’t a girl just love Olivia Newton-John anymore?”
Twyla just shrugs her shoulders, unbothered.
Stella sighs, looking at me with those big, perceptive eyes of hers that see right through me. “You know what you need right now?”
“A new heart?” I offer dryly. “A lobotomy?”
“A dance party,” Stella announces.
I arch a dark brow at her, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Stel, come on—”
“Nope, no arguments,” she cuts in, already marching over to the glass front door.
She flips the sign from Open to Closed and struts over to the vintage boombox sitting on the shelf behind the counter.
She punches a button, and the bassline of “You Make My Dreams” by Hall & Oates comes blasting out of the speakers.
Stella kicks off her leather loafers, grabs my wrist, and yanks me out into the middle of the shop floor. “Come on, Freddie! Move those witchy hips!”
I try to hold out for roughly three seconds, but Stella grabs both of my hands and spins me around so hard my hair flies into my face.
A genuine, unbidden laugh cracks out of my chest. Before I know it, we’re spinning around between the record crates, bare feet sliding against the polished floorboards, twirling and shouting the lyrics at the top of our lungs.
Even Twyla joins in, zipping around our heads like a hyperactive firefly, leaving trails of blue glitter in the air.
For the first time in two weeks, the suffocating weight in my chest lifts just a tiny fraction.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t invited to the party.”
My breath hitches, freezing mid-step. I whip my head toward the front door.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, his broad shoulders practically blocking out the afternoon light, is Callum. His indigo eyes are locked straight onto mine, crinkling at the corners with that familiar, devastatingly handsome smirk. I’d know those eyes anywhere.
My eyes widen and a loud, utterly unhinged scream of pure excitement tears out of my throat before my brain can even process what’s happening.
I sprint across the shop floor, launch myself into the air, and wrap my legs around his waist like a spider monkey, flinging my arms tight around his neck.
Callum lets out a booming laugh, his arms wrapping instantly under my thighs to catch me, burying his face right into the crook of my neck. “Gotcha,” he rumbles, pulling back just enough to capture my mouth in a hard, breathless, utterly possessive kiss that tastes like spearmint gum.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, breaking the kiss to press my trembling palms flat against his chest, clutching his denim jacket like I’m terrified he’s going to turn into smoke. “Oh my God, you’re real! You’re actually real!”
“In the flesh, Win,” he whispers, his thumb stroking my cheekbone, his eyes swimming with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
From behind us, Stella lets out a loud whistle, shutting off the boombox. “It’s real good to see you again, Cal.”
Callum looks over my shoulder, keeping his solid grip under my hips. “Same to you, Stella.”
Before Stella can answer, a bright blue streak shoots past my ear. Twyla flies straight up to Callum’s face and throws her tiny arms around the tip of his nose, hugging it for dear life. “Don’t you ever leave us like that again, you giant brute!”
Callum lets out a quiet chuckle. “Hi, Twy. I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?”
I slowly slip down his body, my feet touching the cold floorboards as my cheeks flush a deep, burning pink. My heart is hammering a million miles an hour, my hands still tangled in the front of his jacket.
It’s only then, as I turn slightly to catch my breath, that I notice the two other people standing right outside the glass door on the sidewalk behind him.
Callum steps back just enough to slide a heavy arm over my shoulders, tugging me flush against his side. “Win, I want you to officially meet my siblings. This is my brother, Rory, and our sister, Isla.”
I blink, clearing the haze of pure shock, and look at the two figures stepping over the threshold. Rory looks infinitely better than he did in the gray twilight of the Veil—his color is back and he’s wearing a faded flannel shirt that clearly belongs to Callum.
“Nice to meet you again,” I say, stepping forward to extend my hand. “Under slightly less chaotic circumstances.”
Rory grins as he shakes my hand with a firm, warm grip. He winks. “Yeah, the first time was a bit wild, wasn’t it? Thanks for not leaving me to rot in the foggy abyss, by the way.”
I snort a laugh. “Tell me about it. Glad to see you’re still in one piece.”
My eyes shift to Isla, and I practically freeze.
She’s drop-dead gorgeous. A thick, neat French braid of fiery red hair rests over her shoulder, and her nose and cheeks are dusted with a heavy smattering of dark freckles.
But it’s her eyes that catch me—a striking, sharp emerald green, so bright they almost look magical on their own.
She’s clutching a leather handbag to her chest, her knuckles pale, staring at the glowing glass jars of mermaid scales on the shelves in the store shop window next door.
I reach out my hand to her. “Isla. I’m Freddie. All of this must be…completely insane.”
Isla blinks, looking down at my hand before shaking it.
Her grip is surprisingly tight. “That’s an understatement,” she murmurs, a small laugh escaping her.
“When Cal came home with Rory—who we literally thought was dead—and tried to explain where he’d been…
none of it made sense. He finally just said he couldn’t explain it, he had to show us.
I still can’t believe any of this is real. ”
Callum lets out a rumbling laugh from beside me. “Yeah, well. This place tends to have that effect on people.”
Stella leans over the counter, resting her chin in her hands, her eyes darting between the three of them. “Wait, how did the Veil even let you two through?”
“Genevieve,” I realize softly, turning my head to look at Callum. “Because they’re related to her. The bloodline is still alive in them. The magic of the boundary recognizes her family, even now that she’s passed on.”
“That’s what we figured, too,” Callum says, nodding. “The compass brought us straight to the creek, and the fog just…parted for us.”
I turn back to Callum, my thumb tracing the hem of his denim jacket. “How long are you guys staying?”
“Rory and Isla are going back in a few days,” Callum says.
He reaches up with his free hand, running his fingers through his red hair, a slight, nervous shift in his posture.
“They’ve got lives to get back to. But…me?
” He looks straight down into my eyes, his gaze softening. “I think I’m going to stay.”
My heart gives a hard, hopeful thump. “Stay?” My voice cracks horribly on the word, tiny and high. “Like…for good?”
Callum nods, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“For good, Win. I mean, I’ll have to go back occasionally to check on these two knuckleheads and make sure Gran hasn’t burned the house down.
” He slings an arm around Rory’s neck, giving him a quick, affectionate headlock.
“But with Rory around she won’t need me as much. ”
“He’s been insufferable, Freddie,” Rory adds cheerfully, dodging Callum’s elbow. “Talking about you non-stop for two weeks.”
“I guess I missed you a little bit, too,” I whisper, leaning up to press another quick, sweet kiss to his lips.
When I pull back, a sudden wave of panic hits me. “Wait. What about your job? You’re just…leaving your work? And where are you going to live?”
Callum smirks, reaching out to cup both sides of my face with his large hands. “I already talked to Mayor Brightfang on our way through town. Turns out, this town could actually use a full-time detective around here. And Delphi told me I could crash at the Inn until I find a place of my own.”
I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, my chest aching with so much happiness it feels dangerous. “I can’t believe you’re really staying.”
“I meant what I said to you, Win,” Callum says. “If I could choose only one feeling for the rest of my life, it would be the exact way I feel when I’m with you. And now I get to choose it.”
A mischievous smile tugs at my lips despite the tears prickling my eyes. “And what feeling is that, loverboy?”
Callum’s smirk softens into something so deeply, utterly tender it takes my breath away. “Love. I’m in love with you, Winifred. I know that now.”
A wide, helpless grin breaks across my face. “Good,” I say, wrapping my arms tight around his neck again, burying my face into his shoulder. “Because I love you, too.”
When we finally break apart, Callum looks down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners with that familiar, sarcastic spark I fell head over heels for. “So…you’re sure you’re not going to get sick of having me underfoot all the time?”
I laugh, resting my forehead against his chest, listening to the steady, strong beat of his heart.
“Never, loverboy,” I whisper, looking up into the eyes of the man who crossed worlds for me. “I could never.”