Chapter Twenty-Three
VIOLET
What. The hell. Was that?
My skin is tingling, my heart vibrating, my chest rising and falling like I just mainlined puerh tea and ran a marathon, and I can’t. Freaking. Breathe.
I bolt for the exit like the building is on fire, completely forgetting about the magical leash. At the telltale yank, I stop just long enough to spy Devlin following, giving me some slack. Slower this time, I head out into the courtyard and duck behind a maple tree, leaning back against the trunk.
Closing my eyes, I press a hand to my chest, sucking in big gulps of air.
That kiss. That freaking kiss!
Yes, I’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks. Yes, every time he touches me during our cat-reading sessions, I catch myself pretending it’s real. Replaying those romance stories all the way to the end, alone in my bed at night, wishing against all logic and reason that he’d just bang down the door, strip off my clothes, and give me the real Ambrosia Divine play-by-play, no hayloft required. And yes, on occasion, when he’s in the shower and out of earshot, lesson learned, I take Mr. Wiggles out for a spin, clawing at my sheets and whispering Devlin’s name into my pillow as I fall right over the edge.
So you’d think—after all his cheeky innuendos and nonstop touching and flirty Devlinisms—I’d be used to it. That my many, many X-rated fantasies and multiple battery-induced orgasms achieved in his honor would’ve numbed me to his charms, to the butterflies in my stomach at the touch of his hand, to the rush of heat between my thighs at the mere sound of his delicious buttery accent, but… noooo.
And it’s not just the physical stuff, either.
Just when I think I couldn’t be crushing any harder, the man does something genuinely sweet and sincere, like painting mugs with me, or dancing with my aunts, or saving me from Brandt, or fixing my glasses and showing me how to slow dance.
Then he just hauls off and kisses me? Like that? Like it’s actually real?
No. It can’t be real. No way. But that kiss? Good goddess. I felt it in places I didn’t even think existed in real-life female anatomy—places I’ve only ever read about in Ambrosia’s books, painted with words like petals and channels and dark, secret gardens.
We’re real, all right! comes the downtown rallying cry, my core still pulsating with shockwaves of molten-hot desire. Welcome to the funhouse, girl! And thank you, Devil sir, and your Devilish tongue… Can we please have another? Preferably about two feet lower next time…
“Vi? You okay?” Olivy’s voice cuts into my thoughts, and I open my eyes to find her standing right in front of me.
At my nod, she waves at someone in the distance, then flashes the thumbs-up.
“Devlin,” she explains. “He’s waiting for you on the bench back there. I told him we usually do a quick ritual with Ol’ Aggie on Halloween, so he knows you’re not trying to ditch him. Unless… you are trying to ditch him?”
“I can’t ditch him. Binding spell, remember?” I remove my glasses and rub my eyes, blowing out a soft sigh. “But I don’t want to ditch him, anyway. I just needed… a minute.”
“Yeah, I saw you guys run out and got worried. Well, first I saw that very hot moment on the dance floor—definitely not family-friendly, by the way—then the running. So you can imagine where my mind went.” She tucks a loose wave behind my ear and straightens out my glasses. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just…” I press my fingertips to my lips, still aching from the kiss. Still aching for more. “It was… kind of intense.”
“No kidding.” She laughs, the light in her eyes dancing. “But you’re okay, right?”
At this, a genuine smile breaks across my face. “More than okay, Olivy. Goddess, I made a total scene.”
“The running? No. The kissing? Definitely. But it was a good scene. Trust me.”
Lowering my gaze, I bite my lip and mutter, “I think I might actually… like him.”
“Like him, or like the special Halloween candy he slipped you tonight?”
“Olivy!”
“We all saw it, Vi. I’m pretty sure there’s a video making the rounds, too. Mayor Singh was especially excited about the prospect of a winter wedding.”
“You’re all terrible!” I laugh. “She was on stage the whole time!”
“And therefore had the best vantage point.”
“Dick or Treat!” comes the giggling call across the courtyard, and I turn to see Emmie, Darla, and Fiona bounding toward us.
“At least one of us is getting the good stuff tonight,” Emmie teases. “Back me up, Fiona.”
“My sources say…” Fiona mimes the act of gazing into her crystal ball, her brows wiggling. “Oooh, yes, someone is definitely in for a thorough dicking tonight, and that someone is… our very own fairy princess. May she be blessed with multiple multiples and a man willing to sleep on the wet spot.”
“Oh my goddess, shut up!” I crack up at their antics, but then a new realization dawns. “Oh, no. Please tell me the aunts didn’t see me making out with the Devil on the dance floor. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“They’ve been with Aggie for the past hour.” Olivy nods in the direction of Founder’s Grove, where I spot my three aunts at the base of Aggie’s statue, preparing their annual offerings. “But the aunts probably know what’s going on anyway, even if they didn’t see a thing.”
“We just know things, girls,” Darla says in a dead-on impersonation of Joslyn’s gravelly voice that has us all cracking up again.
With a bit more room left on the magical leash, I follow my sisters over toward Aggie’s statue, turning to catch Devlin’s eye.
He smiles at me across the courtyard, and even at a distance, I can feel the warmth in his energy. The lightness.
The intense desire.
Still burning. Not imagined.
Holy Hell.
He waves me on and motions to the bench, indicating he’ll wait for me there, and I flash him the thumbs-up and continue on.
Olivy wasn’t making excuses with the whole Aggie thing. Since the statue was erected, the sisters and aunts and I have made it our new Halloween ritual—leaving offerings and asking for continued blessings of Wayward Bay, our magic, and each other.
Now, my aunts welcome my sisters and me into their circle. Jos casts me an all-knowing smirk, and Althea squeezes my hand, but none of them say anything about Devlin or the kiss.
Ol’ Aggie, though… she knows exactly what kind of mischief I’ve been up to tonight. I can see it in her eyes, just like I imagine she can see it in mine.
I kissed the Devil… and I more than liked it.
“Is everyone ready?” Althea asks, and we all join hands around Aggie’s statue.
Other Wayward Bay witches have also paid homage to our patron founder tonight, and the base of her statue is a riot of colorful candles and gifts. Non-magical folks tend to leave the offerings in place, believing that Agatha Wayward will curse them to a year of bad luck if they steal from her.
Which is probably true.
Throughout the courtyard, the maple leaves tumble and twirl, the sounds of mischief and merriment floating on the air as the older kids chase the younger ones through the trees and various bands of revelers call out, “Trick or treat!”
It’s easily my favorite night of the year, and being here with my aunts and sisters—with Devlin close by, connected by energy and magic and maybe something more—floods me with a sense of gratitude and peace.
Together, in a single voice, we quietly recite our prayer.
Magic above and magic below
Blessings in darkness and light
To witches we love and witches unknown
Blessings on Halloween Night
The magic gathers among us—a little something from each of us that combines into a powerful force of love and protection. It starts as a warm tingle in our fingertips and slowly travels up through our arms, straight to our hearts, connecting us to each other, and to Aggie, and to all the witches who’ve lived, loved, and died in the Bay.
After a few moments of silence, we each approach the statue, one by one, to leave our offerings.
Beneath Aggie’s skirt, Fiona leaves a deck of Tarot cards tied with a silk ribbon. Darla wrote a story—her favorite offering—and tucks the envelope into a small gap under a shoe. From Emmie, a slice of lemon pound cake and a batch of hand-dipped chocolate-covered strawberries. I bought her my Sweet Dreams tea, a peppermint and jasmine blend mixed with rose petals, mugwort, and cinnamon.
“Aggie’s having the best time tonight,” Olivy says, last to place her offerings—a bouquet of lavender and rosemary, along with a small bottle of whiskey, rumored to be Aggie’s favorite. “Saucy old girl.”
“All she ever wanted was a safe place for us,” Althea says, bittersweet tears in her eyes, and the other aunts nod, huddling in close. “A place where women—human and witch-kind both—could live our lives and do what we were born to do, whatever that may be. Nothing would please her more than to see how happy you girls are. How full of joy and love.”
At the L-word, all of them turn to look at me. Heat spreads across my neck and cheeks, and suddenly I can’t stop grinning. “Okay, okay. Yes, I like Devlin. Fine. But love? Come on! It’s not like this thing between us is going anywhere! It’s just… just some fun while he’s in town.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.” Jos cups my cheek, eyes twinkling beneath the witch hat. “Either way, Violet. Don’t ever talk yourself out of being happy. Enjoy it, even if it’s just for one night.”
“Especially on a night like tonight,” Lorelei says softly, gazing up at the moon through the trees. “You never know what other kinds of mischief might be afoot.”
I follow her gaze and stare at that beautiful silver orb, and somehow, even struggling under the weight of my debts and past mistakes—and literally chained to the Devil himself—I feel freer than I have in years.
“Thank you, Aggie,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to my fingers and leaving it at her feet.
Then, right there beneath my hand, a Tarot card appears.
Not The Devil this time.
The Lovers.
A choice is coming, my intuition whispers. Follow your heart’s true desire, and you can’t go wrong.