Chapter Thirty-Six
DEVLIN
Violet enters the courtyard like a vision in dark jeans and a pink blazer, her Make Like a Tea and Leaf shirt peeking out from beneath the lapels.
I miss those birds. The gnomes. The mushrooms.
I miss her.
When she reaches me, my heart stutters.
I haven’t stopped thinking of her since we parted ways. Haven’t stopped dreaming of her, haven’t stopped revisiting my memories of her as I walked the dark and lonely corridors of Hell, night after endless night.
So how is it possible that I forgot just how unabashedly beautiful she is?
“There you are,” I say softly.
“Here I am,” she replies.
And then we just stand about for another wasted eternity, staring at the ground between our feet, two clumsy teenagers both at a loss for words.
But this was my wrong to right. My turn to cross that invisible line and say all the things I was too bloody scared to say before. Too bloody stupid.
“I was hoping for a meeting with Mayor Singh,” I begin. “I decided I needed to share the evidence with her about Brandt. But when I arrived, her assistant told me I’d have to take a number on account of you and several other irate business owners storming the meeting.”
She nods. Takes a step closer. Finally meets my eyes again, and my heartbeat kicks back into gear, thank the fucking demons for small favors.
“You were right about his shady dealings,” she says. “They went even deeper than we realized. Not just in Wayward Bay, but all over the country. That guy we saw at Three Sisters that day? Another of their college friends—CEO of that crappy burrito chain that keeps getting shut down everywhere for health code violations. They were trying to drive Ricci out of business, hoping to take over her building.”
She tells me about the additional evidence Olivy uncovered. The other men implicated in the scheme. The support and testimony of dozens of other neighbors and business owners.
“The good news is, now they’ll all be wheeling and dealing in prison,” she says. “The police have already detained Brandt and Nathan. Mayor Singh is waiting to hear back from the FBI. I’ll probably have to give an official statement.”
“And what of the grants? Are they discontinuing the program?”
“Nope.” She smiles. “The town wants to move forward with it. They’re going to start from scratch, though—new sponsors, new committee. They want us all to re-apply.”
“That’s great, Violet. I really hope you will. You deserve a fair shot.”
“Oh, I’m definitely applying. Ricci too. We’re in this together, now.” She laughs, but a sigh quickly chases it away, emotion glazing her eyes. In a whisper that nearly breaks me, she says, “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know how to do this, Devlin.”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know what to say to you. You were right about Brandt, and I’m grateful for the evidence. And while I know I could’ve handled things better, it still doesn’t change the fact that what you did… It sucked. Totally and completely sucked. I can’t… I just… Damn it.”
She stalks out of the courtyard, and I’ve got no choice but to follow. I let her walk away once—let her slip right through my hands like water. I’m not about to live through that a second time.
“I never meant to hurt you, Violet,” I say, jogging to catch up. “First and foremost, please know that. I truly believed I was helping you.”
“And what about helping yourself?” She turns around to face me, tears staining her cheeks, each one breaking my heart. “Or are you seriously going to tell me you didn’t force Brandt to sign away his soul?”
“I did force him, yes. Though his fate was sealed long ago. Signing it over was just a technicality at that point, as most of them are.”
She glances up at the sky and shakes her head. Says nothing.
“Violet, you have a right to be upset with me, but please don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over that man’s fate.”
“Is that what you think I’m losing sleep over? Seriously?” She looks at me again and laughs, bitter and cold. “No, Devlin. You don’t get off that easy. I’m upset because you knew how important it was that I earn the grant fair and square. No magic, no supernatural complications—just on my own merits. Yet you went behind my back anyway with your… your twisty horns and glowy eyes and that… that Devil mojo and—”
“I beg your pardon,” I say, defenses rising. “It’s not mojo. It’s—”
“It’s wrong, that’s what it is. I don’t care what name you give it, it’s wrong. You manipulated and blackmailed him into giving me the grant after he’d already turned me down. And I just don’t know how to get past that.”
She turns away again, stomping off toward the café.
Once more, I’m right on her heels, shadowing her every step. “Yes, I did manipulate and blackmail him. Terrified him to the bloody core—you should’ve seen him. I wielded my dark influence, my power, everything at my disposal, all to make him tremble and squirm and bend to my will. Guilty as fucking charged.” I reach for her hand and stop her just outside the café door, forcing her to turn and meet my eyes, knowing damn well this might be the very last of it—the last time she ever looks at me from behind those big glasses, the last time I ever get the chance to speak all the words from my heart. “But even knowing the outcome, Violet, I wouldn’t change what I did. Because while I’m sorry for hurting you—more than you’ll ever realize—I’m not sorry for trying to save Kettle and Cauldron by any means necessary.”
“By threatening my ex with eternal Hell? Why?” She unlocks the door and storms inside, dropping her bag on the counter and retreating behind it. “Why would you think that was even remotely okay? Why would you do something like that?”
Why. That’s the question, isn’t it? And as I follow her behind the counter, desperate to touch her, to hold her in my arms, to make all of this right, a thousand answers spring to mind.
Because I don’t like Remington’s stupid name and his smarmy look and the cheap suits.
Because his mere existence offends me.
Because the idea that he once placed his filthy hands on my soft, sweet, perfect little mushroom incites within me a murderous rage the likes of which I haven’t felt since the betrayal that banished me from Hell in the first place.
Because I’m the fucking Devil, darling, and I do whatever I damn well please.
But in the end, all the bluster and fury fade away. The mask of lies I once so easily donned is gone—she shattered it the night I took her into my lap and confessed my love, leaving the old Devlin Pierce behind.
So now, I take what remains and offer it to her without expectation, without demand, hoping only that she’ll accept it for what it is.
The truth.
“Because for the first time since the dawn of Hell, you and your family allowed me to be part of something infinitely smaller yet unfathomably bigger than I’d ever experienced before or since. Because Wayward Bay needs the café, just like it needs Glaze for Days and Emmilou’s Sweet-N-Savories and Darla’s magical stories and all the other gifts its residents have to offer.”
I take a step closer, gazing down into her face. Risk a touch, tugging on one of her curls—my favorite one—and looping it around my finger.
“Because on one rainy autumn night, a shy, awkward, all-powerful, curly-haired witch drunk-summoned the Devil with naught but a candle, a Tarot card, and a spreadsheet function, and I stupidly, madly, irrevocably fell in love with her. ”
”Which means there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to support her, nothing I wouldn’t do to destroy the man who stands in the way of her dreams. ”
”And you can be mad at me all you want—you have every right to be. I’m sorry I went behind your back and went against your wishes. ”
”I’m sorry I caused you to doubt my unwavering faith in you, even for a moment. But hear me, Violet Pepperdine. I would do it again without a thought. ”
”I would fight dirty, I would manipulate, I would terrify, I would cross lines so forbidden they don’t even exist yet. ”
”I would do all of that, again and again and again, just to keep you from feeling an ounce of pain or rejection. Just to keep that smile on your lovely face, because the world is a cold, dark place without it. So, fine. ”
”Maybe that makes me evil, just like the stories would have you believe. Maybe it just makes me a regular old arsehole desperate to do the right thing, cursed to cock it up time and again. ”
”But it also makes me a man in love with someone he’d do anything to protect. To cherish. To make her understand the depth of his feelings because in all his immortal years, no one else has ever held a candle.”
Tears spill down her cheeks, the silence simmering between us, her eyes as blue and fiery as the sapphire lake in the Desolation Mountains, and in them I see the interplay of every emotion she’s feeling—sadness and anger, frustration and regret, fear.
And then—right there at the end, just when I think I can’t bear it another moment—love.
“How do you know it’s real?” she finally asks, her voice breaking. “You say you feel all these things—all these intense, amazing things—but the magic bound us first, Devlin. What if it’s all just… just a remnant from the spell?”
“Ah, Violet.” I tuck the curl behind her ear, searching her face. Her heart. “Have you ever watched a storm approach?”
She nods. “There’s a spot at the aunts’ place. Top floor balcony. You can see all the way to the Bay from there. I used to love watching the storms come in across the water.”
“It’s only at a distance that we can appreciate the beauty of something so powerful, so chaotic. But up close?” I shake my head, fighting back a shiver. “I feel as if I’ve spent my whole life with that storm right on my heels, desperate to outrun it. I was terrified if I slowed down for even a moment, the chaos of my own pain would finally catch me and devour me whole. But then I met you. And for the first time, I wanted to stop running. I didn’t care that the storm was still on my heels—in some ways, it always will be. But it no longer matters. You’re my calm, right in the chaos of everything else. From the very start, you saw me. The truth behind all the lies. The man behind every mask I’ve worn. Behind every delusion I’ve so desperately tried to cling to. You saw all of it and made me feel like I could finally stop pretending. Stop running. Stop everything and just… just be.” I cradle her face in my hands, catching every tear with my thumbs, whispering against her lips. “The magic bound us first and foremost. That is true. But everything that came after? That was you and me. You ask how I know what I feel for you is real? Because for the first time in this impossibly long existence, I want to be real. Real with someone. For someone. Because of someone. And it’s you, Violet. It’s always been you. I’m in love with you, and that’s all there is to it.”
She’s crying again, her eyes so big and blue, her tears endless rivers. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you want me to stay here in Wayward Bay. Tell me I’m yours. Tell me you feel for me even a fraction of what I feel for you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making things right between us. Earning back your trust. Proving to you that I really do believe in you, that I’ve got your back, that I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”
She closes her eyes, her sigh as heavy as the end of the world.
“What’s the point?” she whispers. “You can’t stay here anyway, Devlin. You have to return to Hell, or you’ll be turned into a mortal man, cursed to die just like the rest of us.”
“Cursed to live.”
“If you call a few more decades living.”
“The expiration date is precisely what makes it so worthwhile. It makes every day a gift.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Fine, put that on a greeting card if you must. But it’s true.”
Violet smiles through her tears. “Gigi used to say that. ‘Every day is a gift, Violet. Find the joy in this one. Do that every day, one after the other, and your entire life will be filled with beautiful blessings.’”
“Smart woman.”
“Very.” Violet wipes away her tears and exhales slowly, the gears of her logical mind already churning. “I know you’re saying this is what you want, but giving up your immortality isn’t something you can just wake up and decide to do. I can’t ask you to make a sacrifice like that for me, Devlin. It’s—”
“Already done,” I say softly. “After innumerable centuries trying to get back to Hell, I’ve gone and cast myself right out again.”
“But… what?”
“I told you once I want back to Hell, I wouldn’t be able to leave. Not without relinquishing my throne and my immortality.” I shrug. “So I did.”
Violet gasps.
“It was the only way I could leave on my own terms,” I say. “And I had to leave. I had something very important to attend to today.”
“You… you gave up all of that just to tell Mayor Singh about Brandt’s dirty deals?”
“No. I gave up all of that just for a chance to see your sapphire eyes again. To hear your laughter. To wrap my favorite curl around my finger and whisper against your lips and make you blush that lovely shade of crimson. You’ve already given me that, Violet. You already made the trip worthwhile.” I smile, my heart breaking all over again. “Cast me away now, and know this: it was still worth the trip. Still worth the sacrifice.”
She turns away from me to collect herself. Giving her space, I step out from behind the counter and take a seat, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders as she steadies her breath, my heart pounding like an ancient drum.
Violet doesn’t speak after that. Just reaches up to her shelves, pulling down canisters and bottles and jars, chopping and grating and stirring, losing herself in her work, her home, her happy and safe place. For a moment she disappears into the kitchen and puts on the kettle, then returns, making a few more selections from the shelves, stirring a bit more, still not meeting my eyes.
The minutes tick by. The kettle whistles. Violet heads to the kitchen, returns with the water. Steeps the tea. Pours a cup.
After what feels like another ageless endless bloody fucking eternity, she finally turns to face me again. Steam clouds her glasses, veiling her eyes. She slides a cup and saucer across the counter.
“Drink,” she says plainly.
“What did I tell you about my personal policy?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not a banishing tea.”
“Hmm.” I give it a whiff. Cardamom and cinnamon. Hint of rose. I’ve seen her make enough brews now to know what that means. “Are you putting a love spell on me, mushroom?”
I wait for her answer. And wait. And fucking die a thousand times over.
And then, miracle of bloody miracles, she smiles.
“It was always you for me too, Devlin,” she says softly. “My true heart’s desire. Not the shop, not the money. But love. You.”
“Are you saying…”
“I’m saying that I’m in love with you. I’m saying I want you to jump off the Fool’s cliff with me and trust that it’s right.” She tucks her curls behind her ears, her smile bright, her tears gone. “I’m saying I want you to stay, Devlin.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, no offense to the tea brewer, as I’m sure this is a delicious blend that would absolutely cure at least seven of the many, many things that ail me, but Violet?” I set down the cup and lean forward. “I would much rather spend the afternoon with a mouth full of you.”
One more smile, that’s all I need. That’s all I get, because I don’t wait for a response beyond that. Just haul her across the counter and claim her in a kiss that obliterates every last fear, every last doubt, every last regret.
I’m working my way down her neck, enjoying the soundtrack of her soft, sensual moans, when she suddenly stops, unleashing a gasp that I somehow know isn’t meant for me.
“Why are we stopping?” I demand. “I was just getting to the good part.”
“Sorry, but it looks like your unquenchable carnal desires will have to wait.” She grants me one last all-too-brief kiss before hopping back behind the counter, eyes glazed with happy tears, a shocked but ecstatic grin gracing her lovely mouth.
Then, tossing me an apron, she nods at the crowd gathering outside the windows: the mayor, the pottery painting woman, all four of her sisters, the aunts, Maleek and Jovahn from the liquor store, her landlady, the crowd of adoring women from my very first week here, the whole damn town of Pumpkinville, it seems.
“Violet,” I whisper. “Do you see them?”
She laughs, and snorts, and laughs again. Then tightens her apron strings and says simply, “Devlin? It’s time to put that kettle back on. We’ve got customers.”