-The Ex Hex A Nove

Dedication
ToSandraBrown,JudeDeveraux,JulieGarwood,JudithMcNaughtandAmandaQuick,thewriterswhomademewanttobearomance
novelistwhenIwastwelve.Ittookthirtyyears,butI’mfinallyhere!
Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
Contents
Prologue
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
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ivPrologue
Nevermixvodkaandwitchcraft.
Viviknewthat.NotonlyhadherauntElainesaiditaboutathousandtimes,butitwasalsoprintedondishtowelsandT-shirts
and,ironically,shotglassesinSomethingWicked,thestoreAuntElaineranindowntownGravesGlen,Georgia.

Itmight’veactuallybeentheclosestthingtheJonesfamilyhadtoafamilymotto.
But,Vivireasonedasshesankdeeperintothebathtubandtookanotherslurpofthevodkaandcranberryconcoctionhercousin
Gwynhadmadeher,therehadtobeexceptionsforbrokenhearts.

Andherscurrentlyfeltverythoroughlybroken.Shatteredmaybe.Littlebittypiecesofheart,rattlingaroundinherchest,
allbecauseshegotsuckedinbyacuteaccentandapairofveryblueeyes.

Sniffling,sheflickedherfingersagain,fillingtheairwiththesmellofRhys’scologne,somethingcitrusyandspicythatshe’dnevermanagedtoputherfingeron,buthadclearlyimprintedonherbrainenoughthathermagiccouldjustsummonitup.
Evennow,slumpedinGwyn’sclaw-foottub,shecouldrememberhowthatscentmadeherheadspinwhensheburiedherfaceagainst
hischest,howwarmhisskinhadbeen.

“Vivi,notagain!”Gwyncalledfromthebedroom.“It’sgivingmeaheadache!”
Vivislidfartherintothewater,lettingitsloshoverthesidesofthetub,nearlyextinguishingoneofthecandlesshe’d
putaroundtherim.

AnotheroneofAuntElaine’slessons—thebestcureforanythingwascandlesandabath,andeventhoughVivihadputplenty
ofrosemaryandhandfulsofpinksaltinthewater,litjustabouteverycandleGwynowned,shewasn’tfeelinganybetter.

Althoughthevodkawashelping,sheallowed,leaningovertotakeanothersipthroughthebrightpurplecrazystraw.
“Letmelive!”shecalledbackonceshe’ddrainedtheglass,andGwynstuckherheadaroundthedoor,pinkhairswingingover
hershoulders.

“Mydarling,Iadoreyou,butyoudatedtheguyforthreemonths.”
“We’veonlybeenbrokenupforninehours,”Vivisaid,notaddingthatitwasactuallyninehoursandthirty-sixminutes,
almostthirty-seven.“IgetatleastanotherfifteenhoursbeforeIhavetostopsulking.It’sintherulebook.”

Gwynrolledhereyes.“ThisiswhyItoldyounottodateWitchBoys,”shesaid.“EspeciallyPenhallowWitchBoys.Thoseassholesmayhavefoundedthistown,butthey’restillfuckingWitchBoys.”
“FuckingWitchBoys,”Viviagreed,lookingsadlyatheremptyglassasGwyndisappearedbackintothebedroom.
ViviwasstillalotnewertothewholewitchthingthanGwyn.WhilehercousinhadgrownupwithAuntElaine,ahappilypracticing
witch,Vivi’sownmom,Elaine’ssister,hadkeptherwitcheryunderwraps.Itwasonlyaftershe’ddiedandVivihadgone
tolivewithElaineandGwynthatshe’dstartedtappingintothissideofherself.

Whichmeantshehadn’tknownaboutWitchBoysandhowmeetingoneataSolsticeRevelonawarmsummernightcouldbeboth
thebestandworstthingthathadeverhappenedtoyou.

Liftingherhand,Viviwiggledherfingers,andafteramoment,ahazy,waveringimageroseabovethewater.
Thefacewashandsome,allgoodbonestructure,darkhair,twinklingeyesandrakishgrin.
Viviscowledatitbeforeflickingherhandagain,sendingaminiaturetidalwaveupoutofthebathtosplashdown,theface
vanishinginashowerofsparks.

Would’vebeenniceifshecould’veerasedhismemoryjustaseasily,buteveninhersadandvodka-soakedstate,Viviknew
betterthantomessaroundwiththatkindofmagic.Andacoupleofthoselittlepiecesofherheartdidn’twanttoforget
thepastthreemonths,wantedtoholdontothememoryofthatnightthey’dmet,themusicalwayhe’dsaidhername,always
Vivienne,neverVivi,howthatfirstnighthe’dasked,MayIkissyou?andshe’dsaid,Now?andhe’dsmiledthatslowsmileandsaid,Nowispreferable,butI’mopentowhateveryourscheduleallows,andhowwasanywomansupposedtoresistthat?Especiallyanineteen-year-oldoneatherfirstSolsticeRevel?Especially
whenthemansayingthosewordswastallandridiculouslyhandsome,andWelsh?

Itwasillegal,waswhatitwas,andshewasgoingtolodgesomekindofcomplaintwiththeWitchesCouncilassoonasshe—
“Vivi!”Gwynyelledfromthebedroom.“You’remakingthelightsflicker.”
Oops.
Sittingup,VivipulledthepluginGwyn’stub,hopingsomeofhermiserywasswirlingdownthedrainwiththewater.
Shecarefullysteppedoverthecandles,andpulledtherobeGwynhadlentheroffthehookonthewall,feelingalittlebit
betterasshetightenedtheblacksilkbeltaroundherwaist.Thiswaswhyshe’dcometoElaineandGwyn’scabininthewoods
highupinthemountainsaboveGravesGleninsteadofbacktoherdormroomatthecollege.Uphereinthiscozylittlespace
withitscandlesandcats,everyroomsmellinglikewoodsmokeandherbs,Viviwashome.

MaybesheandGwyncoulddofacemasksorsomething.Haveanotherdrinkorfive.ListentoTaylorSwift.
Or,ViviamendedasshewalkedoutofthebathroomtoseeGwynpouringasaltcircleonthefloor,theycoulddo…whatever
thiswas.

“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked,wavingahandtowardthebathroom.Afterasecond,herglassfloatedout,crazystrawbobbing,andViviclosedherfingersarounditbeforeheadingtoGwyn’sdesktopourherselfanotherdrink.
“We’recursingthisdickbag,”Gwynrepliedwithagrin.
“Hewasn’tadickbag,”Vivisaid,chewingontheendofherstrawandstudyingthecircle.“Notatfirst.Andtobefair,
Iwastheonewhocalleditoff,nothim.”

Snorting,Gwynbegangatheringherhairupinaponytail.“Youcalleditoffbecausehewasadickbag.HecametoGravesGlen,seducedyou,andallthewhile,hisdadwasbackinWales,arranginghismarriage
tosomefancywitch.Andheknew!Anddidn’tbothertotellyou!No,dickbagrulingstands,sosayweall.”

“‘Weall’meaningjustyou.”
“MeandSirPurrcival,”Gwynsaid,gesturingtothetinyblackkittencurrentlycurleduponherbed.Athisname,helifted
hislittlehead,blinkingbrightgreen-yelloweyesatVivibeforegivingatinymewthatdidkindofsoundlikeagreement.

AndRhyshadbeenengaged.Well,almostengaged.Hehadn’tusedthatword.He’dsaid“betrothed.”Justdroppeditonherthismorningwhile
they’dbeensnuggledupinthewarmthofhisbed,himkissinghershoulder,andmurmuringthathehadtogobackhomefor
aweekorso,getsomethingssorted.

“Somethings”apparentlymeaning,“Tellmydadtocalloffmyactualweddingtoastranger,”andthenhe’dhadthenervetobeshockedthatshewasshocked,andactually,yes,theyshoulddefinitelycursethisdickbag.

“Fairenough,”Vivisaid,foldingherarmsoverherchest.“Whatdowedo?”
“Openthewindows,”Gwynsaid,movingtoherdeskandpickingupacandleinaglassholderthatVivihadsomehowoverlookedforherritualbath.
Vivididasshewastold,thelateSeptemberaircoolandsmellinglikepinetreesasitrushedintheroom.Overthetop
ofthenearestmountain,themoonshonefullandwhite,andVivigaveitalittledrunkenwavebeforestickingherheadout
thewindowtolookupElaine’smountain.

Upthere,somewhereinthedarkness,wasRhys’sfamilyhome,theonehe’dneverevenvisitedbeforethissummer.Itwasdark
nowbecauseRhyswasgone.

Gone.
BacktoWalesandwhateverlifehe’dlivedtherebeforecomingtotakesummerclassesatPenhavenCollege.
Andtheywereover.
Hereyesstingingagain,Viviturnedbacktohercousin.
Gwynsatjustoutsidethecircle,thecandlenowinthecenter,theflameflickering,andforasecond,Vivihesitated.Okay,
soyes,Rhyshadbrokenherheart.Yes,hehadn’ttoldherhisfatherwasintheprocessoffindinghimawife.Nodiscussion,
nowarning,nocareforhowshemight’vefeltaboutthewholething.OneHundredPercentDickbagMoves.

Butcursing?
Andcursingwhiledrunk?
Maybethatwasalittlebitmuch.
AndthenGwynclosedhereyes,heldherhandsoutandsaid,“Goddess,webeseechyouthatthismanshallneveragaindarkenVivi’sdoornorhervagina.”
Vivinearlychokedonherdrink,gigglingevenasthealcoholsearedhersinuses,andfloppeddownontheoppositesideof
thecirclefromGwyn.

“Goddess,”Vivisaid,takinganothersip,“webeseechyouthatheneveragainusehisdimplesforevilagainstunsuspecting
maidens.”

“Niceone,”Gwynsaidbeforeadding,“Goddess,webeseechyoutomakesurehishairneverdoesthatthingagain.Youknow
thethingwemean.”

“Shetotallydoes.”Vivinodded.“Goddess,webeseechyoutomakehimthesortofmanwhowillforeverthinktheclitoris
isexactlyone-thirdofaninchawayfromwhereitactuallyis.”

“Diabolical,Vivi.Trulydarkmagic.”
Herheadspinning,butherheartnotfeelingquitesopiece-y,Vivismiledandleanedoverthecircle,closertothecandle.
“Youbrokemyheart,RhysPenhallow,”shesaid.“Andwecurseyou.Youandyourwholestupid,hotline.”

Thecandleflamesuddenlyshotuphigh,startlingVivisomuchthatsheknockedoverherdrinkasshescrambledback,and
fromhisspotonthebed,SirPurrcivalhissed,hisbackarching.

Gwynleapttoherfeettopickhimup,butbeforeshecould,bothwindowssuddenlyslammedshut,thedrapesblowingbackfrom
theforce.

Yelping,Vivistoodup,herfootsmudgingthesaltcircle,andwhensheturnedtolookbackatthecandle,itsflameseemedtoriseimpossiblyhigher,tallerthanGwyn,beforeabruptlyextinguishingitself.
EverythingwasquietandstillthenexceptforSirPurrcival,stillhissingandspittingashebackedupagainstGwyn’spillows,
andViviwasn’tsureshe’deversoberedupsofastinherlife.

“Sothatwas…weird,”sheventuredatlast,andGwynwalkedovertothewindow,cautiouslyliftingit.
Theframeslidupeasilyandstayedput,andwhenGwynturnedbacktoVivi,someofthecolorwasreturningtoherface.
“Youmadethelightsflickerearlier,remember?Probablyjust,like,apowersurge.Amagicalone.”
“Canthathappen?”Viviasked,andGwynnodded,maybealittletooquickly.
“Sure.Imean…wewerejustgoofingaround.Noneofthatwasrealcursemagic.ThatcandlecamefromBath&BodyWorks,
Ithink.”

Vivistudiedthelabel.“Yeah,I’mprettysure‘OrchardHayride’isn’tinleaguewithdarkness.”
“Right,”Gwynsaid.“Soyeah,noharm,nofoul,exceptthatwescaredbabyboyhere.”ShehadmanagedtocoaxSirPurrcival
intoherarms,andhesnuggledinevenasheseemedtoglareinVivi’sgeneraldirection.

“Don’tknowmyownstrength,Iguess,”Vivisaid,andthen,asone,sheandGwynadded,“Nevermixvodkaandwitchcraft.”
Laughingalittlesheepishly,VivisetthecandlebackonGwyn’sdesk.
“Feelingbetter?”Gwynasked.“Fake-cursethatmanrightoutofyourhair?”
Itwasgoingtotakemorethanonebath,severaldrinksandsomemagicalsillinesstoforgetaboutRhys,butfornow,Vivi
nodded.“Ithinkso.Andyou’reright,itwasjustthreemonths,andnowhe’sbacktoWales,soit’snotlikeI’lleverhave
toseehimagain.Hecangobacktohislife,Icangobacktomine.Now,let’scleanupallthissaltbeforeAuntElaine
comesuphereandfiguresoutweweredrinkingandmagicking.”

ViviturnedawayandneithershenorGwynsawthecandlebrieflyigniteagain,theflamesparking,thesmokecurlingback
towardtheopenwindowandthefullmoon.
Chapter1
NineYearsLater
Ofcourseitwasbloodyraining.
Forone,itwasWales,sorainliterallycamewiththeterritory,Rhysunderstoodthat,buthe’ddrivenfromLondonthatmorning
throughsunshinewiththeoccasionalcloud.Gorgeousblueskies,rollinggreenhills,thekindofdaythatmadeonewantto
takeuppaintingormaybedevelopsomekindofpoetryhabit.

ItwasonlyoncehedroveintoDweniniaid,thetinyvillagewherehisfamilyhadlivedforcenturies,thatitstartedpissing
down.

Hewasfairlysureheknewwhy.
Grimacing,RhysparkedhisrentalcarjustofftheHighStreet.Hedidn’thavetodrive,ofcourse.Could’veusedaTraveling
Stone,beenhereintheblinkofaneye,buthisinsistenceondrivingeverywhereirritatedhisfather,andRhyslikedthat
morethanhelikedtheconvenienceofmagicaltravel.

Although,hethoughtashegotoutofthecarandfrownedupatthesky,todayitfeltalittlelikecuttingoffhisnosetospitehisownface.
Butwhatwasdonewasdone,andRhystuggedthecollarofhiscoatupalittleandsetoffintothevillageproper.
Therewasn’tmuchontheHighStreet—afewshops,achurchatoneendandattheother,apub.Thatwasthedirectionheheaded
innow.Therewereonlyahandfulofpeopleoutthisafternoon,butallofthemcrossedtotheothersideofthestreetwhen
theysawhim.

Lovelytoseethefamilyreputationwasstillrobustasever.
Attheendofthestreet,TheRavenandCrownbeckoned,itswindowswarmrectanglesoflightagainstthegrayday,andas
soonasRhyspushedopenthefrontdoor,hewasassailedwithsomeofhisfavoritesmells—themaltyrichnessofbeer,the
sharptangofciderandtheoakywarmthofagedwood.

God,he’dactuallymissedhome.
Maybeitwasjustbecausehe’dbeenawayforsolongthistime.Heusuallytriedtodropineveryfewmonths,morefrequently
ifhethoughthisfatherwasaway.Itputhimrightinbetweenhistwoolderbrothersintermsoffamilialloyalty.

Llewellyn,theeldest,ranthispubandstayedinclosecontactwiththeirfather.Bowen,themiddlebrother,hadfuckedoff
tothemountainsofSnowdoniatwoyearsago,andtheygotoccasionalcommunicationsfromhim,mostlytoalarmallofthem
withhowintensehisbeardseemedtobegetting.

SoRhyswas,foronce,notthemostdisappointingson,atitlehewashappytohangontountilBowendecidedtostopdoingwhateveritwashewasdoingupthere.
Hewasnevergoingtobethefavorite,though.Wellshadwonthatrolelongago,andRhyswashappytolethimhaveit.Besides,
itwaskindoffunbeingtheblacksheep.Whenhefuckedup,thatwastakenasagiven,andwhenhemanagednottofuckup,
everyonewaspleasantlysurprised.

Win-win.
Takingoffhisjacket,Rhyswenttohangitonthecoatrackbythedoor,theonejustunderanoldadvertisementforStrongbow
cider,andashedid,hecaughtaglimpseofthemanbehindthebarwatchinghim.

AndwhenRhysturnedaround,herealizedthemanbehindthebar—hiseldestbrother,Llewellyn—wastheonlypersoninthepub.

Llewellynwastheirfatherminusthirtyyears:samesternexpression,sameRomannose—well,tobefair,theyallhadthat
nose—samethinlips.Onlyslightlylessofaprick.Butequallycommittedtostayinginthistinylittlevillagewhereeveryone
wasterrifiedofhimandrunningthispubthatonlytheoccasionaltourist—anderstwhilebrother—wanderedinto.

“Hiya,Wells,”Rhyssaid,towhichWellsonlygruntedinresponse.
Typical.
“Businessstillbooming,Isee.”Rhyssaunteredovertothebar,grabbingahandfulofpeanutsfromaglassbowlthere.
Wellsshothimadarklookoverthepolishedmahogany,andRhysgrinned,tossingapeanutintohismouth.
“Comeon,”hecajoled.“Admitthatyou’redelightedtoseeme.”
“Surprisedtoseeyou,”Wellssaid.“Thoughtyou’dabandonedusforgoodthistime.”
“Andforgosuchwarmfraternalbonding?Never.”
Wellsgavehimareluctantsmileatthat.“FathersaidyouwereinNewZealand.”
Nodding,Rhystookanotherhandfulofpeanuts.“Untilacoupleofdaysago.Stagdo.BunchofEnglishguyswantingthefull
LordoftheRingsexperience.”

Rhys’stravelcompany,PenhallowTours,hadgrownfromasmall,one-manbusinessrunoutofRhys’sLondonflattoaten-person
operation,runningmultipletripsallovertheworld.Hiscustomersroutinelycalledhistripsthebestoftheirlives,and
hisreviewswerefullofpeoplegushingoverhowtheyneverhadasingledayofbadweather,notonedelayedflight,nota
solitarycaseoffoodpoisoning.

Amazinghowmuchthesmallestbitsofmagiccoulddo.
“Well,I’mgladyou’reback,”Wellssaid,resuminghiscleaning.“BecausenowyoucangotalktoFather,andgethimoutof
thismood.”

Henoddedatthewindows,andRhysturned,seeingthetrulyabysmalweatherinanewlight.
Fuckme.
He’dbeenright,then.Noordinarystorm,butoneofhisfather’smaking,which,yes,meantRhyshadundoubtedlyirritatedhim.Hisbrothershadneverprovokedastormfromhisfather.
Rhyshadcaused…twenty?Twodozen?Toomanytocount,really.
TurningbacktoWells,Rhyswenttoreachforthepeanutsagainonlytohavehishandswattedatwithadamptowel.
“Oi!”hecried,butWellswasalreadypointingatthedoor.
“GoupthereandtalktohimbeforehefloodsthemainroadandIneverseeacustomeragain.”
“AmInotacustomer?”
“You’reapaininmyarseiswhatyouare,”Wellsreplied,thensighed,handsonhiships.“Seriously,Rhys,justgotalk
tohim,getitoverwith.He’smissedyou.”

Rhyssnortedevenashegotupfromthebarstool.“Iappreciatethat,Wells,butyou’refullofshite,mate.”
Anhourlater,Rhyswaswonderingwhyhehadn’tatleaststayedatthepublongenoughtohaveapint.Possiblythree.
He’ddecidedtowalkuptothehouseratherthanantagonizehisfatherwiththecar—arealshowofgrowthandmaturityon
hispart,hethought—butthecloserhegot,theworsetheweatherbecame,andeventheprotectionspellhe’dthrownupover
himselfwasstruggling.

Foramoment,heconsidereddroppingit,lettinghisfatherseehimpatheticandbedraggled,butno,thatkindofthingwouldonlyworkonafatherwhohadaheart,andRhyswasfairlycertainSimonPenhallowhadbeenbornwithoutoneofthose.
Ormaybehe’dremovedithimselfatsomepoint,somesortofexperimenttoseejusthowmuchofabastardonemancouldbe.
Thewindhowleddownfromthetopofthehill,makingthetreesthatlinedtheroadcreakandsway,andhonestly,Rhysknew
hisfatherwasanincrediblypowerfulwitch,buthedidn’thavetobesuchaclichéaboutit.

Alsoacliché:thePenhallowfamilymanse,PenhavenManor.
Rhyssometimeswonderedhowhisfamilyhadmanagedtoavoidbeingmurderedoverthefivehundredyearsthatthey’dcalled
thehulkingpileofstoneandobviouswitchcrafthome.Theymightaswellhaveputsignsinthefrontyard,heretherebewitches,forfuck’ssake.

Thehousedidn’tsomuchsitonthehillasitcrouchedonit,onlytwostoriestall,butsprawling,awarrenofdarkhallways
andlowceilingsandshadowycorners.OneofthefirstspellsRhyshadtaughthimselfhadbeenabasicilluminationspell
justsohecouldsoddingwellseethingswhentryingtogettothebreakfasttableeverymorning.

Healsosometimeswonderediftheplacewould’vebeenalittledifferent,alittle…lighter,ifhismotherhadlived.
She’dhatedthehousejustasmuchasRhysdid,accordingtoWells,andhadalmosttalkedtheirfatherintomovingtosomething
smaller,somethingmoremodernandhomier.

ButthenshediedjustafewmonthsafterRhyswasborn,andanytalkofmovingoutofthismonsterofahousehadbeensquashed.Penhavenwashome.
Aterrifying,uncomfortable,medievalwreckofahome.
Italwayslookedslightlycrookedonfirstapproach,theheavywoodendoorsslouchingontheirhinges,andasRhysclimbed
thefrontsteps,hesighed,smoothingahandovertheairinfrontofhim.

TheHenley,jeansandbootshe’dbeenwearingshimmeredandrippled,transformingintoablacksuitwithhisfamilycrest
embroideredonthepocket.Hisfatherpreferredtheyallwearrobesinthehouse,butRhyswasonlywillingtogosofarin
thenameoftradition.

Hedidn’tbotherknocking;hisfatherwould’veknownhewastherethesecondhesetfootonthehill,possiblyevenwhenhe’d
goneintothepub.Therewereguardianspellsallovertheplaceuphere,asourceofendlessfrustrationtoRhysandhis
brotherswheneverthey’dbeenevenalittlebitlateforcurfew.

AsRhysplacedhishandonthedoor,itswungopen,groaningominouslyonitshinges,andthewindandrainpickedup,gusting
strongenoughthatforjustasecond,Rhys’sspellslipped.

Icywaterslappedhimintheface,tricklingdownthecollarofhisshirtandplasteringhishairbackagainsthishead.
“Wonderful,”hemuttered.“Bloodywonderful.”
Andthenhesteppedinside.Chapter2
Nomatterwhattheweatherlookedlikeoutside,theinsideofPenhavenwasalwaysdim.
Rhys’sfatherlikeditbestthatway.Heavyvelvetdrapescoveredmostofthewindows,andthefewwindowsthatwereleft
uncoveredweremadeofthickstainedglassindarkshadesofgreenandred,distortingthelightthatcamethroughthem,making
strangeshapesontheheavystonetablejustinsidethefrontdoor.

Rhysstoodthereintheentrywayforamoment,lookingupatthemassivestaircaseandthelife-sizeoilportraitthathung
overitofRhys,hisfather,andhistwobrothers.Theywereallwearingrobes,allwatchingthefrontdoorsolemnly,and
everytimeRhyssawtheportraitherememberedbeingtwelveandposingforit,hatinghowstillhe’dhadtobe,howsweltering
anduncomfortablehisrobewas,howridiculousitwasthathisfatherwouldn’tletthemjusttakeapictureandhavesome
painterpaintfromthat.

Butno,Fatherlikedhistraditions,andsweatingone’sballsoffwhilesittingforamassiveoilportraitwasapparentlyrightuptherewithcuttingyourownYulelogandattendingPenhavenCollegeintermsofThingsPenhallowMenDo.
“Don’tkeepmewaiting.”
Thevoiceboomedoutfromeverywhereandnowhere,andRhyssighedagain,runningahandoverhishairbeforejoggingupthe
staircase.

Hisfatherwouldbeinhislibrary,thechosentheaterforalmostallconfrontationsbetweenfatherandsonsthroughoutthe
years,andasRhysopenedtheheavydoubledoorsleadingtothatroom,hefeltimmediatelytransportedbackintime.

Notjustinhisownmemories,althoughhehadplentyofthosefromthisroom,butliterally.Hisfather’slibrarywassomehow,
impossibly,evenmoreGothicthantherestofthehouse.Therewasblackwood,morevelvet,heavysilvercandelabrascovered
inyearsofhardenedwax.Overhead,achandeliermadeofstagantlerscastgloomylightontheparquetfloor,andRhyshad
neverlongedforthebrightlightofhisflatinLondonmore.Theopenwindows,thewhitelinenonthebed,thecomfortable
couchesthatdidn’tdispelcloudsofdustwheneveranyonesat.

Notonevelvetitem—notsomuchasafuckingpillow—inthewholeplace.

Nowonderhenevercamebackhere.
SimonPenhallowwasstandinginfrontofthelargemirrorheusedforscryingandcommunicatingwithfellowwitches,hishandsclaspedbehindhisback,wearing,asRhyshadpredicted,hisrobes.Blackones,ofcourse.Hishairwasblackaswell,althoughsprinkledthroughwithgray,andasheturnedaround,Rhysthoughthelookedalittleoldernow.Afewmorewrinklesaroundhiseyes,morewhiteinhisbeard.
“Doyouknowhowlongit’sbeensinceyouwerelastinthishouse?”hisfatherasked,andRhysbitbackasarcasticreply.
Hehadatleastthreeofthem,buthisfatherwasneverthebiggestfanofRhys’swit,sohejuststeppedintotheroom,mimicking
hisfather’sposture,handsbehindhisback.“I’mnotsure,exactly.”

“Halfayear,”hisfatherrepliedbecausewhysayanormalthinglike“sixmonths”?
“Ithasbeenhalfayearsinceyoulastvisitedyourfatherandyourfamilyhome.”
“Okay,butinmydefense,that’sstillgottobebetterthanBowen,right?”
Rhysofferedhisfatheragrin,butasalways,SimonwastheonepersonRhyshadneverbeenabletocharm.“Bowenisinvolved
insomethingthatactuallybenefitsthisfamily.Asopposedtoyou,livingthebachelorlifeinEngland.”

Rhys’sfatherhadatendencytosay“England”asthoughhemeantasordidpitofdebauchery,andnotforthefirsttime,Rhyswonderedifhisfather’sideaofwhathislifemustbelikewasnotactuallyfarmoreinteresting
thanRhys’sactuallife.

Allright,tobefair,therewasabitofdebauchery,butonthewhole,Rhyslivedasnormalalifeasmostyoungmenintheir
latetwenties.Heranhistravelbusiness,hewatchedrugbyatthepubwithhismates,hedated.

Nothingoutoftheordinaryexceptfortherolethatmagicplayedinallofthosethings.
Hiscustomersalwayshadasmoothandeasytrip.Hisfavoriteteamalwayswon.Andwhileheneverusedmagiconthewomen
hedated,hemight’veusedtheoccasionalcharmtomakesurehecouldgetareservationattherestauranthewanted,orthat
trafficwouldneverbeahassle.

Hedidn’tabusehispowers,buttherewasnodoubtthatmagicmadethepathsmoother,somethingRhyshadalwaysappreciated.
“Youarewastingyourpotentialasawarlock,”Simonwenton,“engaginginallthisfrivolity.”
“Warlockisn’tathinganymore,Father,I’vetoldyou,we’reallwitchesnow.Havebeenforliteraldecades.”

Ignoringthat,Simoncontinued,“Itistimeforyoutolikewisedoyourdutyforthisfamily,Rhys.WhichiswhyI’msending
youbacktoGlynnBedd.”

GlynnBedd.
GravesGlen.
Vivienne.
Hedidn’tthinkofherthatoften.Ithadbeenyears;whatthey’dhadburnedhotbutbrief,andtherehadbeenother,more
seriousrelationshipssinceher.

Buteveryonceinawhile,shecametomind.Herprettysmile.Herhazeleyes.Thewayshe’dtugattheendsofherhoney-blond
hairwhenshewasnervous.

Howshetasted.
No,definitelynotahelpfulmemoryrightthissecond.
Bettertorememberherangrytears,herarmscrossedoverherchest,thepairofjeansshe’dthrownathishead.
Christ,whatawankerhe’dbeen.
Shakinghimselfslightly,hesteppedclosertohisfatherandsaid,“GravesGlen?Why?”
Simonscowledathim,thehollowsbeneathhischeekbonesdeepening.
“It’stheanniversaryofthefoundingofthetownandthecollege,”Simonsaid.“APenhallowmustbethere.Yourbrothers
haveotherresponsibilities,asdoI,soitwillbeyou.Youshouldleaveassoonaspossible,andI’llseetoitthatthe
houseispreparedforyou.”

Hewavedoneelegant,long-fingeredhand.“Youaredismissed.”
“Ifuckingamnot,”Rhyscountered,andSimonstraightenedup.Rhyswasoversixfeet,buthisfather,likeWells,hadhim
beatbyaninchortwo,somethingRhysfeltprofoundlyinthismoment.Still,heheldhisground.

“Da,”hesaid,revertingtothenamehehadn’tusedsincehewasachild.“Youknowtheirwhole‘Founder’sDay’s’thinghas
nothingtodowithusnow,right?It’sbasicallyaHalloweenparty.Theysellpumpkins,forChrist’ssake,Da.Littlepainted
ones.Ithinktherearestuffedbatsinvolved.It’snothingthatrequiresourpresence.”

“Andyetourpresencewillbefeltbecauseyouwillbethere,”hisfathersaid.“Everytwenty-fiveyears,aPenhallowmustreturntostrengthentheleylines,andthisyear,thatPenhallowshallbeyou.”
Bollocks.
He’dforgottenabouttheleylines.
Ahundredyearsago,hisancestor,GryffudPenhallow,hadfoundedthetownofGlynBeddinthemountainsofNorthGeorgiainaspotwheretheveilwasweakandmagicwasstrong.Naturally,thetownhadcalledto
witchesovertheyears,andthecollegethere,namedafterthePenhallowfamilyhome,taughtbothregularclassestohumans
andthearcaneartstowitches.

Notthatthehumanswhoattendedthecollegeknewthat.TheyjustassumedtheHistoricalFolkloreandPracticemajorwasexceedingly
hardtogetintoandalsoacceptedafucktonoftransferstudents.

Rhyshadbeenoneofthosetransferstudentsnineyearsago,justforsummerclasses,andhehadseveralreasons—well,one
verybigone—nottowanttogoback.

“Howdoyouknowthat,bytheway?”hisfatheraskednow,narrowinghiseyesslightly.“AboutFounder’sDay.Youdidn’tstay
longenoughtowitnessitthelasttimeyouwerethere.”

BecauseIoccasionallyhaveonewhiskytoomanyandseewhatTheOneWhoGotAwayisuptoandshestilllivestherewhich
iswhyIdefinitelydon’twanttogobackwasthetruth,but,Rhyssuspected,nottheanswertogivehere.

“Thattownisourfamilylegacy,Da,”hesaidinstead.“I’vekeptupwithwhat’sgoingonthere.”
Rhyswascertainthelookonhisfather’sfacewasn’tpridebecausehewasequallycertainthatSimontakingprideinanythingRhyssaidordidwouldcausearipinthefabricofspaceandtime,butattheveryleast,hisfatherdidn’tlookactivelyirritatedwithhim,andthatwassomething.
Andhehatedthatthatstillmatteredtohim.Thelasttimehe’dtriedtowinhisfather’sapproval,ithadendedupcosting
himVivienne.

Allright,sopartofthathadbeenhisownutteridiocyinnotbotheringtomentionthathe’dagreedtolethisfatherfind
himtheperfectwitchbride,butallofithadfeltsofaraway,andViviennehadbeenrightthere,realandimmediate,not
someabstractconceptofawoman,andithadbeensoeasytoputofftellingher.

Untilitwasn’tandshehad,quiterightly,calledhimeverynameinthebook,includingsomehe’dneverheardof,andstormed
out.

Andnowhisfatherwasaskinghimtogoback.
“Dothisforyourfamily.Dothisforme,”Simonsaid,comingovertolayhishandsonRhys’sshoulders.“GotoGlynnBedd.”
Hewasnearlythirtyyearsold.Heranasuccessfulbusinessthathe’dstartedallonhisown,livedalifeheloved,was
agoddamnadultanddidnotneedhisfather’sapproval.

AndstillRhysheardhimselfsay,“Fine.I’llgo.”
“ItoldyounottogotoaSolsticeRevel,Itoldyoutheywerenothingbuttrouble.”
Headstillonthebar,Rhysliftedahandtogivehisbrotheradouble-fingeredsalute.
HeheardLlewellynsniff.“Well,Idid.”
“Yes,andIignoredyourbrotherlyadvicetomyperil,thankyou,Wells,veryhelpful.”
He’dmadehiswaybacktothepubafterhischatwithSimon,andthistime,he’dactuallymanagedtohavethatpint.
Whichwasprobablytheonlyreasonhe’dconfessedalltoWells.NotjustthatDawassendinghimtoGravesGlen,butabout
thatsummernineyearsago.

AboutVivienneandallthewayshe’dmuckeditrightup.
RhysliftedhisheadtoseethatLlewellynhadmovedovertothetaps,pouringanotherpintthatRhysverymuchhopedwas
forhim.ThiswasclearlyaTwoPintConversation.

“Didyouloveher?”Wellsasked.
Rhysfoughtveryhardnottosquirmonthebarstool.Hisfamilydidn’tusuallygoinforthissortofthing,talkingabout
feelingsandsuch.Wellsdidn’tevenhavefeelings,asfarasRhyscouldtell,andanyemotionsBowenmighthavewerereserved
forwhateveritwashewasdoingoutthereinthemountains.

“Iwastwenty,”hesaidatlast,drainingtherestofhislager.“Anditwassummer,andshewasbeautiful.”
Sobeautiful.Andsobloodysweet.He’dfeltlikesomeonehadhithimsolidlyinthechestwhenhe’dseenherthereatthe
SolsticeRevel,standingunderavioletsky,aflowercrowncrookedonherhead.She’dsmiledathim,andithadbeen…

Instant.Irrevocable.
Afuckingdisaster.
“I…felt…,”hesaidnow,remembering,“asthoughImight…havelovingfeelings.”
St.Bugi’sballs,thathadbeenhard.Howdidpeoplejustgoabouttalkinglikethisallthetime?
Wellsfoldedhisarmsonthebar,leaningin.Hehadtheirfather’sslightlyausterefeaturesandasortofrestingglare
facethatRhyshadalwaysfoundalittlealarming,buthiseyeswerethesameclearblueasRhys’sown.“Maybeyouwon’teven
seeher,”Wellsoffered.“You’lljustbethereforwhat?Aday,maybetwo?”Hissmirkturnedwry.“That’saboutthemaximum
youcangivetoonelocation,correct?”

Ignoringthejab,Rhysnodded.“I’mgoingtoleavetomorrow.Founder’sDayisthedayafter.Getin,chargethelines,get
out.”

“Easy-peasy,then,”Wellssaid,spreadinghishands,andRhysnoddedagainevenasanothervisionofVivienne’stear-stained
faceseemedtofloatinfrontofhim.

“Thepeasiest.”Chapter3
ThestackofpapersonVivi’sdeskwasscreaming.
Well,wailing,really,asortofhigh-pitchedshriek.
Frowning,sheturnedawayfromhercomputerandtheemailshe’dbeensendingherdepartmentheadtostudythepapersthere
onthecornerastheyemittedahighsortofwailingsound.

Withnarrowedeyes,Vivireachedfortheessays,tossingoneafteranotherontoherdeskuntilshefoundtheoneshewaslooking
for.Notonlydiditappeartobeshrieking,butthetypedletterswereslowlybleedingintored.

“Cheater,cheater,pumpkineater,”shemutteredasshecheckedthenametypedinthetopcorner.
HainsleyBarnes.
Ahyes,Mr.Lacrosse.Noshockthere,then.He’dmissedherlastfewclasses,andapparentlynoonefromlastsemesterhad
botheredtotellhimthatMs.Joneswasparticularlygoodatsussingoutcheaters.

Beingawitchhadsomanyunexpectedperks.
Smoothingherhandoverthepaper,Viviremovedthespell,watchingthewordsturnbacktoblackasthepiercingwhineslowlyfadedaway,thenflaggeditwitharedPost-itbeforetossingitinadrawer.
“Whatingod’snamewasthatsound?”
Vivi’sfavoritecolleagueinthehistorydepartment,Ezichi,stoodinthedoorway,wrinklinghernose,and,asthepapercontinued
towhimperinVivi’sdesk,shegavethedraweradiscreetpunch.

“Alarmonmyphone,”sheansweredasthesoundabruptlycutoff.“RemindingmethatIwassupposedtowrapuphere,uh…”
Shecheckedthetimeonhercomputer.

Shit.
“Thirtyminutesago.”
Itwasthethirdtimethisweekshe’dbeenlateforthefamilydinnerherauntElainewassofanaticalabout,butsuchwas
midterm.

Vivishotupfromherdesk,grabbingherjacketfromthebackofthechairandherpurseasEzipointedather.
“Girl,donotdisappointthewomanwhomakesmyfavoritebathsalts,”shesaid,andVivireachedintoherbag,pullingout
asmallmuslinsack.

“Speakingof,shesaidtogivethesetoyou,sothanksforremindingme.”
EzitookthebagfromVivilikeitcontainedpreciousgems,holdingittoherchestandtakingadeepbreath.“Nooffense,
Vivi,butIloveyourauntmorethanIloveyou.”

“Nonetaken,”Vivisaid.“She’smagic.”
Literally,notthatEziknewthat.Vivihadmadethedecisionwhenshe’dfinishedherundergradatPenhavenCollegethatshe’ddoamaster’sinhistory.Regular,humanhistory,andthatshe’dteachregular,humankids,asopposedtothewitchesthattookPenhaven’sother,slightlymoresecretiveclasses.
Sofaritwasadecisionshehadn’tregrettedevenifshedidsuspectsheworkedalotharderteachingIntrotoWorldCiv
thanshewouldhaveifshe’dbeenteachingRitualCandle-Making.

AsVivijoggedupthestepsandoutofthebasementthathousedthehistorydepartment’sjuniorlecturers’offices,shepulled
onherjacketandattemptedtotextGwynatthesametime.

Runinglatr.
Assoonasshehitthedoors,herphonepingedinherhand.
IspeakVivi,soIknowthatmeansyou’rerunninglate.Don’ttextanddrive.Ortextandwalk,either.
Grinning,Viviheadedoutintothequad.Itwasn’tdarkyet,andtheOctobernightwasprettymildevenuphereinthemountains.
Nestledinthevalley,PenhavenCollegewasalittlegemofredbrickbuildingsandgreengrass,talloaktreesandneatly
trimmedhedges,andViviloveditmorethanapersonshouldprobablyloveherworkplace.

Butshedidloveit.Especiallynowwiththefirsthintoffallintheair,theleavesorange,theskypurple.Penhavenwas
alwaysatitsbestintheautumn.

SowasallofGravesGlen.Vivinoticedthatthedecorationsfortomorrow’sFounder’sDay,thebeginningofGravesGlen’sbigHalloweenseason,wereup.ThereweretheelectriccandlesinthewindowofTheWrittenWyrd,thetown’sbookshop,andplasticpumpkindecalsstucktothedoorofCoffeeCauldron.Ofcourse,ElaineandGwyn’sstore,SomethingWicked,wasalldeckedout,andViviwasprettysuresheevenspottedadanglingbatinfrontofheraccountant’soffice
Shehadn’tgrownupinthislittlesliceofperfectionintheNorthGeorgiamountains.HerparentshadlivedinAtlanta,and
whileVivimissedthembothalot,she’dalwaysbegratefulshe’dlandedhereinthisspotthatfelttailor-madeforhersomehow.
Thisperfectsmalltownwhereshecouldbalancebeingawitchandaregularwoman.Bestofbothworlds.

Elaine’shousewassethighonahillattheendofawindingroad,andasVividroveupunderthebrightorangeandredleaves,
hertiresbumpingonthedirtroad,shefelthershouldersstarttorelaxalittle,andoncethecabincameintosight,she
actuallysighedwithhappiness.

Home.
Onceshe’dparkedbehindElaine’sancientVolvo,Vivijoggedupthefrontsteps,pastthegrinningpumpkinsanddanglingbats
andlittlelightsintheshapeofpurplewitches.

AuntElainealwayswentall-inforHalloween.
Justinside,VivistoppedtopetSirPurrcivalwherehewascurledupinhisbasket.Hewasmassivenow,ahulkingmassof
blackfurandgreeneyeswhoadoredGwynandtoleratedElaineandVivi,andsheconsideredherselfluckywhenheonlytook
thelaziestofswatsatherhandbeforesettlingbackintosleep.

“Iknow,I’mlateagain!”Vivicalledoutasshegavehimonelastpet.
Elainedriftedintothehallway,herash-blondhairpiledmessilyontopofherhead,herblackskirtsbrushingthefloor.
IfStevieNickstaughtmiddleschoolartwasthewayGwynalwaysdescribedhermother’slook,andthatwasnotfaroff.ButitworkedonAuntElaineinawayVivi
nevercould’vepulledoff.She’dsticktoherfloralprintsandpolkadots.

“Youknow,”AuntElainesaid,placingaberingedhandonherhip,“ifyou’djustcometoworkforme,youwouldbearound
allthetimeandneverhavetoworryaboutbeinglate.”

Anoldargument,andonethat,asusual,Viviwavedoff.“Youtwodofinewithoutme.”
SomethingWickedsoldvariouswitchythings,fromcandlestoscarvestosoap,withtheoccasionalhomemadejamthrownin.
Businessalwayspickedupthistimeofyear,thankstoFounder’sDay,butitwasn’tunusualforthemtogodayswithouta
singlesale,soElaineandGwyncouldeasilyruntheplacebythemselves.

“Wemightdoevenbetterwithyou,though,”ElainesaidasVivimoveddownthehallwayandintothekitchen.
Ofalltheroomsinthehouse,thisonealwaysfeltthemostwitchy.Copperpotshangingfromhooksontheceiling,little
potsofherbsallalongthewindowsill,Elaine’scandle-makingsuppliesclutteredonthetable.

TheeffectwasonlyslightlyspoiledbyGwynstandingbythestove,wearingaT-shirtthatsaid,WitchDon’tKillMyVibe,andeatingmacaroniandcheeseoutofthepot.

“Businesshaspickedupsomuchinthelastfewyears,”Elainewenton,languidlymovingbacktowardthetable.“Gwyncan
barelykeepupwiththeonlineorders.”

Gwynnodded,hermessybunofredhairnearlycomingundone.“Everyone’sawitchthesedays,”shesaid,mouthfull.“Wesold,
like,ahundredsetsoftarotcardslastmonthalone.”

Viviraisedhereyebrowsasshewenttothefridgetogrababottleofwine.“Jeez,seriously?”Heraunt’sbusinesshadalways
beenmoreofahobbythananactualmoneymaker,butElainehadrefusedtogetanythingresemblingarealjob,andGwynwasn’t
allthatinclinedtojointheworkforce,either.

“Self-careandallthat,”shesaidnow,placingthepotbackonthestoveandcrossingonefootovertheother.Glancingdown,
Vivicouldseeshewaswearingthebright-green-and-black-stripedsocksthatwereperpetualbestsellersatSomethingWicked.

“Tarotcards,crystals,candles,grimoires…”Gwyntickedtheitemsoffonherfingers.“Wecanbarelykeepthingsin
stock.I’mgoingtohavetohiresomeonejusttohandletheonlinestore.Youcouldtotallydothat.”

“Ilikemyjob,”Viviinsisted,andthetruthwas,shedid.Sure,thereweretheoccasionalLacrosseCheaters,butshecouldmorethanhandlethem,andshelovedgoingtoworkonPenhaven’scampus.Shelovedgoingtothebigcafeteriaforlunch,lovedherofficewithitscomfychairs.Lovedsharingherownloveofhistorywithherstudents.Allinall,itwasagoodfit,anditmadeherfeel…stable.Safe.
TwoofVivi’sfavoritewords.
AsViviopenedthewine,Gwyn’sphonebuzzed,andshesighed.
“Isweartothegoddess,ifthisisanothertextaboutFounder’sDayshit,IamgoingtogofullCarrieonthistown.”
“Themayor,”ElainesaidtoViviinastagewhisper.“ShekeepstextingGwynaboutFounder’sDaybecauseshehasacrushon
herandthisisherwayofgettingGwyntopayattentiontoher.”

“Asolidmove,”Viviallowed,pouringherselfsomewine,andGwynrolledhereyes.
“I’vealreadysleptwithher,Mom,it’snotthat.”
“Alsoasolidmove.”Viviliftedherglassand,distracted,Gwynclinkedherownagainstit.
“No,she’sjustfreakingoutbecauseit’sherfirstFounder’sDayasmayorandshewantseverythingtogowell,”Gwynsaid,
herfingersmovingrapidlyoverthephone,“andshe’sanormalhuman,notawitch,soyoucanseewherethesekindsofthings
stressherout.”

“Doessheknowyou’reawitch?”Viviasked,andGwynblewaraspberry.
“God,no.Thatisprivilegedinformationoneonlygetsafterthefourthdate.”
“Younevergoonafourthdate,darling,”Elainesaid,lininguphercandlesonthetable.
“Exactly,”Gwynsaidwithawink.
Shewenttoputherphonebackinherpocketonlytohaveitbuzzagain,andshegroaned.“Jane,honestly,you’rehot,butthesexwasnotgoodenoughtowarrant—oh,shit.”
“What?”ViviandElaineaskedinunisonasGwynstaredatherphone,hereyeswide.
“Um.Nothing.Nothingatall.Shesentmeanude.I’mshockedandscandalized.Bythenude.”
Hastilyshovingherphoneinherbackpocket,GwynpickedupherwineandturnedherattentiontoVivi.“So!Howisteaching
thenormiesgoing?”

“Uh-uh,”Vivisaid,placingahandonherhip.“Youaretheworstliarintheentireworld,GwynnevereJones.WhatdidJane
saythatmadeyoumakethatface?”

GwynlookedbetweenViviandElaine,whowaswatchingherwitheyebrowsraised,andfinallygroaned,winesloshingoutof
herglassasshethrewupherhands.

“Becauseit’sthehundredthanniversaryofthetown’sfounding,they’resendingaPenhallow.”
Foralongmoment,therewasnothingbutsilenceinthekitchenasallthreewomentookthatin.
APenhallow.
Vivisippedherwine.TherewerelotsofPenhallows.Okay,therewerefourthatsheknewabout.SimonPenhallow,Terrifying
Witch,andhisthreesons.

Oneofwhomhadshatteredherheartintoabillionpieceswhenshewasnineteen.
Whichhadbeenalongtimeago.
Andwasathingshehadcompletelymovedpast.
Mostly.
“Itmightnotbehim,”Elainefinallysaid,turningbacktohercandles.“Mightbethatnightmareofafatherofhis.”
“Probablyis,”Viviagreed.“Onehundredthisabigdeal.AndwhileRhysmighthavechangedalotinthepastnineyears,
Istilldon’tseehimasbeingtheoneyou’dsendforbigceremonialthings,right?”

“Oh,totally,”Gwynsaid,noddingandpouringmorewineintoherglass.“YousendinRhysforthefunshitlikeSolsticeRevels
andthoseweirdsummercoursesthecollegeoffers.Youdon’tsendhimintochargetheleylines.”

“Ofcourseyoudon’t,”Vivisaid.
“I’msuretheywouldn’tdreamofit,”Elainedeclared,tappingthetableforemphasis.
“But,”Gwynaddedslowly.“Maybeweshouldcheck?”Chapter4
“Wehaven’tdonewitchyshittogetherinages!”
VivistoodinGwyn’sbedroomfeelingtheoddestsenseofdéjàvu.
Itwasn’tlikeshehadn’tbeeninheretonsoftimessincethenightofallthatweirdnessafterRhys.Shehad.
Butitwasthefirsttimeshe’dbeenbackuponanautumnnightwithasaltcircleonthefloorandmagicafoot.
“Gwyn,ourentirelivesarewitchyshit,”sheremindedhercousinassheattemptedtositonthefloorinherpencilskirt,
butGwynjustshookherhead,turningaroundwithherarmsfull.Vivispottedatleastthreecandles,analtarcloth,asilver
bowlandasmallblackbagdoneupwithagoldclasp.

“No,Imeanthereal-dealkindofwitchyshit,”shesaid,loweringherselftothehardwood.“Coven-typestuff.Gettingour
TheCrafton.”

Smiling,Vivihikedupherskirt,crossedherlegs,andtookasipofherwine
“NotsincethenightRhysandIbrokeup,”shesaid,andGwynwavedheroff.
“Thatdidn’tcount.Thatwasn’trealmagic.Thelasttimewedidrealmagicwas…senioryear?Maybe?ThatBeltane.”

Remembering,Vivinodded.“Okay,well,aslongaswedon’taccidentallysummondemons,I’min.”
“Itwasjustthatonce,andtechnicallyitwasaverypissedoffelementalspirit.”
VivishotGwynalookovertherimofherglass.“Doyourememberhowlongittookmyeyebrowstogrowback?”
Droppingherpileofsuppliesontothelittleruginthemiddleofthefloor,Gwynheavedasigh.“Vivi,ifyoubringbad
energyintothis,it’snotgoingtowork.”

“Ifeellikeyou’rejustsayingthattogetoutoftheEyebrowConversation.”
Gwyndidn’treplytothat,openingthelittleblackbagandpullingoutadeckoftarotcards.
“Ooh,”Vivisaid,reachingforthedeck,butGwynbattedherhandaway.
“Notouching!NotuntilI’mready.”
“ButIhaven’tseenthisonebefore,”Vivisaid,andGwyngrinned,spreadingthecardsoutonthefloor.Eveninthedimlamplight,
theircolorspracticallyglowed,andVivicaughtaglimpseofadiaphanouswhitegownonTheEmpress,brightbutteryellow
onTheSun.

Gwynhadbeenpaintingherowncardsforyears,eversincetheywereteenagers,andnotforthefirsttime,Vivifeltalittlepanginherheartlookingathercousin’shandiwork.Notjustbecausethecardswerebeautiful,althoughtheydefinitelywere,butbecauseGwynalwaysseemedsoconnectedtohercraftinawaythatVivihadjustneverfelt.Sure,shelikeddoingtheoccasionalspell,andherlittleapartmentoverthestorecontainedmorecandlesthanwasprobablywise,butshe’dneverhadthis.NeverhadwhatGwynandElainehad,thiseasewithmagic.Bothofthemdidspells,bigandsmall,aseasilyasbreathing,andyeteverytimeViviusedmagic,eventhelittlethingslikeheranti-cheaterspell,somethinginher…paused.
Heldback.
Thereweretimesshewishedhermomhadbeenalittlemoreopenaboutthewholewitchthing.Maybeifshe’dgrownupdoing
magic,she’dfeelmorecomfortablewithitnow.

Shakingherhead,Vivipushedthatthoughtaway.
Itdidn’tmatternow.Shehadexactlyasmuchmagicassheliked,nomore,noless.
Gwynhadsetthesilverbowlontherugandaffixedafatwhitecandletothebottomofit.Now,sheranherhandsoverher
cards,hummingsoftlyassheslidonefromthedeck.

TheMagicianwasdressedinbrightredrobes,awhitecrystalcrownonherhead,andVivismiledassherealizedthefigure
wasclearlymodeledonElaine.ShecouldevenspotSirPurrcivalwindinghimselfaroundherankles,hiseyesaglittering
green.

“So,”Gwynsaidbeforetakingasipofherownwine.“Firstthingsfirst,wefindoutifyouhaveanybadluckrightnow.Badluck,theysendRhys.Goodluck,it’soneofhisbrothersorhisdad.Maybeahotcousin.”
“Thatseemsmuchmorelikely,”Viviadmitted,asGwynlitthecandleinthesilverbowl.“Imean,Rhyshateddealingwith
familystuff.Ican’timaginehe’dwanttocomebackhere.”

NotafterIthrewhisownpantsathimandcalledhim…somethingbad?
“We’llsoonfindout,”Gwynsaid,pullingfourmorecardsfromhertarotdeck.
SheslidTheMagicianinwiththem,herlongfingersdexterousassheshuffledthefivecards,slidingthembackandforth
overoneanotheruntilGwynhadnoideajustwhereTheMagicianhadendedup.

“Okay.Thesimplepart.Turnoverthesecardsoneatatime,”Gwynsaid,layingthecardsfacedownonthefloor.“IfTheMagician
popsupinthefirstthree,badluck.”

Frowning,Vivistudiedthecardsinfrontofher.Gwynhadpaintedthebacks,too,aswirlingpatternofgreenandpurple
spirals,andViviletherfingersdanceoverthemforamomentbeforeturningoverthefirstcard.

Amanstoodattheedgeofacliff,onefootliftedlikehewassecondsfromsteppingoff,hiseyesblueovertherimofa
pairofsunglasses,hisshirtunbuttonedtothemiddleofhissternum.

Vivi’sheartdidalittleflip-flopinherchestbecausethatsurewasafamiliarface.
Thenshelookedatwhatcarditwas.
“TheFool?”sheasked,liftinghereyestoGwyn’s.
Gwynjustshrugged,leaningbackonherhands.“Itakeinspirationfromeverywhere,andwhenitcametimetopaintthatone,hejust…leapttomind.AmIwrong?”
TheFoolwasallaboutrisksandchances,leapingwithoutlooking,sono,Rhyswasnotnecessarilyabadmodelforthatcard.
Still…

“Soisthisbad?”Viviasked.Shelifteditbetweenherthumbandindexfinger,shakingthecardslightly.“Doesthismean
itishim?”

“No,”Gwynsaidfirmly,shakingherhead.“Well.Imean.Probablynot?Idon’tknow.Let’sseewhatthenextcardis.”
Viviturnedoverthenextone.
TheMagician,wearingheraunt’scalmface,staredbackupather.
“Rhiannon’stits,”Gwynsaid,sittingupsofastthatherkneenearlyclockedherglass.“Theyaresendinghim.”
Viviwishedherpulsehadn’tsuddenlyspedupatthat,wishedherhandsweren’ttremblingslightlyasshereachedouttoflip
overthelastthreecards.

TheStar,whichwasclearlyVivi,standingonadeskinaclassroominapolkadotdress,anappleinonehand,aglowing
orbintheother;TheTower,Elaine’scabin,butwithamassivecrackupthecenterofit,halfthehouseslidingoffacliff;
andlast,TheMoon,whichwasa…

“Werewolf?”Viviasked,holdingupthecardforGwyn,whorolledhereyesandpluckeditfromVivi’sfingers.
“Donotquestionmyartisticvision,Vivienne,”shesaid,slidingTheMoonalongwiththeotherfourcardsbackintoherdeck.
Thetwoofthemsatthereonthefloor,staringatthecandles,andfinallyVivisaid,“Sothisisdumb.”
Gwynglancedup.“Whichpart?Himcoming?Usfindingouthe’scoming?Youfeelingweirdabouthimcoming?HowmanytimesI’ve
saidtheword‘coming’?”

“Alloftheabove,”Vivisaid,risingtoherfeetandslidingherskirtbackintoplace.“Look,thiswasalwaysboundtohappen.
Hisfamilyfoundedthistownandthecollege,thecollegewhere,letmeadd,Ihappentowork.He’spartofthisplace.I
knewthatwhenIgotinvolvedwithhim.And!”Sheliftedafingerintheair.“Ihavehadmanyboyfriendssincehim!”

“Tobefair,you’vehadthree.”
“Whichismorethantwo,whichis‘acouple,’sothereforeismany,Gwyn,whosesideareyouon?”

“Yours,”Gwynhastilyacknowledged.“Onehundredpercent.”
“It’snobigdeal,”ViviwentonasshesearchedforhershoesnearGwyn’sbed.“He’llcome,he’lldohiswholeFounder’s
Day‘Ooh,LookatMeI’mFancy’thing,andstuffwillgobacktohowitwas.IcancontinuetoliveaPenhallow-freelife.”

“Exceptforthepartwherethere’sastatuetohisancestordowntownandalsoyourworkplaceisliterallynamedafterhis
house.”

“Exceptforthat.”
“Rememberwhenwepretendedtocursehim?”Gwynasked,grinningassheshuffledhercards,andVivisnorted.
“Somethingabouthisdimplesandneverbeingabletofindaclitorisagain.”
“Which,”Gwynsaid,tiltingherheadtooneside,“nowthatIthinkaboutitwasactuallymoreacurseagainstanywomenhedated,andIkindofregretthat.Forthesisterhood.”
Laughing,Vivishookherhead.“Itdoesn’tmatteranyway.Imayhavedonetheoccasionallightsocialmediastalking,and
heseems…fine.”

Betterthanfine,really.Hewasstillhandsome,apparentlyransomesuperchictravelbusinessthattookgroupsallover
theworldtodovariousglamthingsandprobablystillknewexactlywheretheclitoriswas.SheandGwynhadjustbeentwosilly,drunkwitches,jokingaroundandluckythatnoactualmagic
hadbeenemployed.Whateverhadhappenedwiththatcandlehadbeenafluke,clearly.

VivihadjustreacheddowntosliponherbootswhenGwyn’sbedroomdoorflewopen.
“Mom!”Gwynyelped,leapingtoherfeet.“DidtheDanielSpencerIncidentteachyounothing?”
ElainejustwavedahandatthatevenasSirPurrcivallurchedintotheroom,meowingbalefullyatallofthem.“Well?”she
asked,andViviwalkedovertoGwyn’sdesk,leaningagainstit.

“Cardssayyes,”shesaid,andElainelookedbrieflyattheceiling,mutteringsomethingunderherbreath.
“But,”Vivisaid,pointingwithheremptywineglass,“asIwasjusttellingGwyn,it’sactuallynotthatbigofadeal.We’reall
grown-upshere,andit’snotlikehe’llstaylong.I’mtellingyou,IbetIwon’tevenseehim.”
Chapter5
Rhyswasn’tsurewhathe’ddonetotheuniversetodeservethisday.
Firstthere’dbeentheflight.Thathadgonewellenough,butithadbeenlong,andgettingarentalcarinAtlantahadbeen
frustrating,thoughnomoresothannavigatingAtlantatraffictomakehiswaynorthhadbeen.Therehadbeenonepoint,feeling
profoundlydiscombobulatedonthewrongsideofthecaronthewrongsideoftheroad,staringatthebackofasemitruck
infrontofhim,thatRhyshadnearlybrokenandcalledhisfathertogrudginglyaskforaTravelingStoneforhisreturn
journey.

Hehadn’tendedupsacrificinghisprideonthatparticularaltarandhadsurvivedthedrivetoGravesGlenwithhissanity
intact,butoncehe’dgottenintothetown,ithadbeenoneclusterfuckafteranother.

He’dgottenaspeedingticketroughlyfivesecondsafterhe’dpassedthesignwelcominghimtoGravesGlen.Annoyingandexpensive(and,tohismind,slightlyunjust,giventhathewasonlygoingtenmilesoverandthetownwouldn’tbloodywellexistwithouthisfamily),butnotenoughtoruinhisday.
No,thathadcomejusthalfanhouragowhen,halfwayupthehillsideleadingtothePenhallowhome,he’dblownatire.
Bythatpoint,hispatiencehadbeentoolowtodosomethingsoperverseaschangeithimself,sohe’dwavedhishandatthe
thingtorepairitonlytohavethetireblowuptotwiceitsnormalsizebeforepoppinglikeagoddamnballoon.

Andwhenhe’dattemptedtofloatthespareoutofthebootofthecar,ithadgonemadlyspinningintoatreebeforerolling
downthehill.

Whichmeantthathewasstuckinthewoodsatnight,agoodhalfmilefromthehouse,mudcoveringhisbestboots,andhis
magicapparentlyonthefritz.

Marvelous.
This,Rhysthoughtashereachedintothebackseattopullouthisbag,waswhyheshould’vestayedinWales.Hell,hecould’ve
runthepubwhileLlewellyndealtwithallofthis.Wellsprobablywouldn’thaveinsistedonflyinganddriving.Wellswould’ve
beensensibleandusedtheTravelingStone,beeninandoutinaflash,andRhysmighthavediscoveredsomeheretoforeundiscovered
talentforpullingpints.Might’vechangedhiswholelife.

Butno,WellswasbackatTheRavenandCrown,andRhyswashere,onahillsideinGeorgiawithacompletelyuselesscar,
andhewouldbettheentirecontentsofhiswalletthathisfatherhadn’tseenfittostockthehousewithanykindofalcohol.

Hehadjuststartedthetrudgeupthehillwhenheheardthesoundofacarapproaching.
Sendingupaprayertothegoddessthathisluckhadactuallyturnedforthebetter,Rhysshoulderedhisbag,wavinghisarms
overhisheadastheheadlightscomingdownthehillnearlyblindedhim.

Rhysmadesuretostandneartheedgeoftheroadandlookasaffableaspossible,smilingevenashesquintedintheglare,
andhewasstillsmilingevenasthecar…didn’tstop.

Andnotonlydiditnotstop,itseemedtobeveeringslightlytotheright.
Hewasontheright.
Rhyshadonlyamomentofdazedthought—thispersonisgoingtohitme,IamgoingtodieonahillinGeorgia,whatanutterlyshitewaytogo—beforehedoveoutoftheway.Distantly,heheardthesquealofbrakes,smelledburningrubber,butgiventhathehadjust
thrownhimselfdownthesideofasteephill,hehadslightlymorepressingconcerns.

Likestoppingthisslideintodarknessand,ifpossible,savinghisleatherjacket.
Thejacketwasclearlynotgoingtomakeit—heheardatrulyawfultearingsoundashethrewonearmoutandclutchedata
strayroot—buttherestofhimwasallinonepieceashecametoastopseveralyardsdownthehillfromtheroad.

Abovehim,hecouldstillseetheglowofheadlights,andheheardacardooropenandslamshut,andthenthecrunchingofleavesunderfootassomeonerushedtowardthehillhewascurrentlyatthebottomof.
“Ohmygod,ohmygod,ohmygod,”averyfamiliarvoicebreathed,andah,yes,yes,ofcourse.
Theuniversestillclearlyhatedhim.
“Iamsosorry!”Viviennecriedasshemadeherwaydownthehill,andRhysturnedhisheadtoseehermakingherwaytoward
him,herarmsouttooneside.Shewasjustasilhouette,adarkfigureagainstevenmoredarkness,butevenifhehadn’t
heardhervoice,hewould’verecognizedher,would’veknownthatshapeanywhere
Evenafternineyears.
Eveninthedark.
Fuck’ssake.
Rhyslethisheaddropbacktothegroundashestudiedtheskyabovehimandwaitedfortheinevitablemomentwhenshe’d
figureoutwhoshe’dalmosthitandpossiblygetbackinhercarandfinishthejob.

“Ididn’tevenseeyouuntilyou’djumped,”heheardhersayfromveryclosenow.“Anditwastheweirdestthing,itwaslike
thebrakesjustlockedup,andthesteeringwheelhadamindofits—oof!”

Rhys’shandscameupautomaticallyasViviennetrippedoverhisproneform,butitwastoolatetocatchher,andnowhegot
toaddaseriouslysharpelbowtothetesticlestohislistofgrievances.

“I’msorry!”shesaidagain,scramblingtopushherselfup,herbodyhalfdrapedoverhisevenasheattemptedtocurlinonhimself.
“Noworries,”hemanagedtowheeze,andthenherhandswereonhischest,herhairhangingdowninhisface,brushinghis
lips.

“Rhys?”
Someofthepressureonhischesteasedassheliftedahand,andwithaflickofherfingers,asoftlighthoveredoverthe
pairofthemthereontheground.

Anyhopehe’dhadthatwhateverhe’dfeltforhernineyearsagohadbeenamadmixofsummerandmagicandhormoneswasimmediately
squashedashelookedintothosehazeleyes,tookinherflushedcheeksandherpartedlips.

Likewise,anyhopethatshemighthaveforgivenhimintheinterveningyearsdiedagroaningdeathasshenarrowedhereyes
andsaid,“Ishouldn’thavetriedtoslowdown.”

“Goodtoseeyou,too,Vivienne,”hesaid,stillalittlebreathlessfromhisslidedownthehillandnearemasculation.
Pushingherselfoffhim,Viviennerosetoherfeetandbeganbrushingtheleavesandvariousdebrisfromherskirt.
Herpolkadotskirt.
Herwholedresswaspolkadot,hesawnow,littleorangeonesonablackbackground.
Hadhealwaysfoundpolkadotssoinstantly,intenselyerotic?
Wasn’treallyathinghe’dconsideredbefore,anditwaspossiblehe’dhithisheadsomewhereinhisfall,buttherewasnothingforitnow.Polkadotshadreplacedblacklaceandredsatininanysexualfantasyhemighthavefortherestofhislife.
Thelightshe’dconjuredupstillfloatedbyherhead,andasshepickedthelaststrayleafoffherblackjacket,shelooked
backdownathim.

“Whywereyouontheroad?”sheasked,andhenoddedbackupthehill.
“Flattire.”
Viviennesnorted,pullingherjackettighteraroundherasanothergustofwindrustledthetrees.“Soyoucouldn’tchange
itmagicallyorphysically?”

“Havingabitofanight,totellthetruth.”
“Same.”
“Andwhywereyouonthisroad,Vivienne?DidyouhearIwascomingback?”

“Don’tflatteryourself.Myauntstilllivesonthisroad,andIwasheadinghomefromdinnerwithherandGwyn.”
“Ah,Gwyn,”hesaid,rememberinghercousin,apink-hairedwitchwho,hesuspected,hadhatedhimonsight.
Smartgirl.
“Howisshe?Andyouraunt?”
Viviennesighed,tippingherheadbacktolookatthesky.“Howaboutwenotdothis?”shesaid,andRhysrolledontohis
side,proppinghimselfupononeelbow.

“What,talktooneanother?”
“Makesmalltalk,”Viviennesaid,lookingdownhernoseathim.“Neitherofusisanygoodatit.”
Foralongmoment,theystaredateachother,Rhysstillontheground,Viviennestandingabovehim,andherememberedthey’dbeeninasimilarpositionthelasttimehe’dseenher,rightaftershe’dleaptoutofhisbedwhenhe’dtoldherthathehadtogobacktoWalestogetoutofhisbetrothal.
Lookingbackonitnow,itwaseasytoseethathehadperhapsnothandledthatconversationaswellashecouldhave,but
he’dthoughtshe’dunderstand.Shewasawitch,too,afterall;sheknewallaboutbetrothals.

Ashisjeanshittinghimintheheadhadswiftlytaughthim,Viviennedidnotinfactknowallaboutbetrothals,andthatwholemagicalsummerhadcometoaliterallyscreaminghalt.

Untilnow.
“I’mherefortheleylines,”hefinallysaid,sittingupandshakingthetwigsoutofhishair.
“Iknowthat,”shereplied,crossingherarmsoverherchest.“Cuttingitkindofclose,aren’tyou?Onlyshowingupthenight
beforeFounder’sDay?”

“Ididn’twanttospendmuchtimehere,”hesaid,thengaveherasardonicgrin.“Can’timaginewhy,giventhewarmwelcome
andall.”

Rollinghereyes,Vivienneturnedtoheadbackupthehill.“Okay,well,I’dsayIwassorryaboutnearlykillingyou,but
webothknowthat’salie,soI’llleaveyoutofindyourownwayhome.”

“Or,”Rhysoffered,comingtohisfeet,“youcouldbetheabsolutedarlingIknowyouareandgivemearide?”
Shespunaround,thatlightstillbobbinglikeadementedfirefly.“AndwhywouldIdothat?”
“Well,”Rhyssaid,liftingafinger,“forone,Iamintownforaltruisticpurposesthatbenefityouandyourfamily.Two”—anotherfinger—“whenyouwereontopofme,Idid
notmakeasinglepervyreferencetoothertimeswe’dfoundourselvesinthatposition.”

“Exceptthatyou’redoingthatnow,butcontinue.”
“Andthree…”Rhysliftedthelastfinger,thenlookeddownathishandandfrowned.“Actually,numberthreewasgoingtobeapervyreferencetoourpast,soprobablybestyouleavemeheretodie.”

Tohissurprise,thecornerofhermouthtickedupalittleatthat.
Notquiteasmile,certainlynothingasrobustasalaugh,butitwassomething.Shehadlikedhimonce,afterall.Quite
alot,really.

Andhe’dlikedher,too.Thathadbeentheworstpartofitallwhenitended.Rhyshadnevermetanyonehelikedjustas
muchashelustedfor,andithadmademissinghertentimesworse.

Evennow,batteredandbruisedandpossiblystandinginsquirrelshit,hewas…happy.Gladtoseeher,brushwithvehicular
homicideaside.

Maybecomingbackwouldn’tbesobadafterall,
Andthensheturnedawaywitha“Soundsgood!”
ThelightaboveherblinkedoutandRhysstood,dumbfounded,asshemarchedupthehill,neveroncelookingbackathim.
Hewasstillstandingtherewhenheheardhercardooropenandclose,theenginestart,andthetirescrunchdownthedirtroad.
Intheaftermath,theonlysoundswerethewindpickingupyetagainandthefaintskitteringofsomenocturnalanimal.
“Fairplay,Isuppose,”Rhyssaidtothedarkness.“Fairplay.”
Sighing,helookedbackupthehillandpickeduphisbagfromwhereithadlanded,andslingingitoverhisshoulder,lifted
hisfreehandtosummonuphisownlight.

Hisfingerssparked,andaboltofflamesuddenlyshotout,hittingthenearesttreelimbandsendingitcrashingtoearth
withacrackandasmellsuspiciouslylikeburnedhair.

“Right,”Rhyssaid,stompingonthesmolderingleavesandactuallygratefulthathecouldfeelthefirstfatdropletsofrain
starttofall.

ThesoonerhewasoutofGravesGlen,thebetter.Chapter6
“Soyoujustlefthimthere.”
“Gwyn,I’vetoldyouthestorythreetimesalready.Andthat’sjusttoday.Itextedittoyou,andcalledyouaboutitlastnight.”

Vivireacheduptoreadjustthelittlepapier-machéwitchhangingoverthecashregisteratSomethingWicked,andGwyn,standing
behindthecounter,leanedforward,puttingherchininherhands.

“Iknow,butit’smyfavoritestory.Iwantitplayedatbothmyweddingandmyfuneral.Iwanttodoitasadramaticmonologue
atanopenmicnight.Iwant—”

“Igetit,”Vivisaid,laughingassheheldupherhand,“butseriously,itwasn’tthatbigofadeal.”
“Youalmostranyourex-boyfriendoverwithacar,andthenlefthimlyingintheliteraldirtonthesideoftheroad.It
issuchabigdeal,youabsolutequeen.”

Vivismiledagain,butifshewerebeinghonest,shestillfeltalittle…well,notguilty,exactly.Rhyswasapowerfulwitch,andhe’dbeenmaybeahalfmilefromthePenhallowhouse.Hecouldtakecareofhimself.
Butmaybeithadbeenkindofbitchytojustleavehimthere,especiallyafterhe’dbeensurprisinglychillaboutthewhole
“nearlyrunover”thing.

Ofcourse,thatwasn’tactuallysurprising.“Chill”wasRhys’sdefaultsetting,afterall.
Andcharming.
He’dbeenreallyfreakingcharminglastnight.
Suppressingasigh,shemovedovertothedisplayofcrystalballs,runningherhandsoverthenearestone.
Elaine’sstorewasjustascozyandperfectasherhouseandtoday,deckedoutforFounder’sDay,itwasatitsabsolutebest.
Candleshadbeenlit,fillingthestorewiththesmellofbayandsage,andcrystalswerespilledoutonblackvelvettablecloths
likerecentlydiscoveredjewels.

EvenGwynlookedmagicalandmysticaltoday,deckedoutinaclingyblackdressandknee-highsuedeboots,herlongredhair
curlingaroundherface.

Viviwasalittlemoresubtleinherblackpantsandpurplestripedsweater,butthenshewasjustthelocalhistoryteacher,
nottheproprietressofthetown’switchshop.

Besides,she’dbeendistractedthismorning.
She’dspentasolidtenminutesintheshowerreplayinglastnight,andforallthetimethathadpassed,forallthetearsshe’dcriedovertheawfulwayithadended,whenshe’dlookeddownintothoseblueeyes,thatsamehankofdarkhairfallingoverhisforehead,thatsamelazygrin,herhearthadknockedsolidlyagainstherribs,herstomachhaddroppedandshewasn’tevengoingtothinkaboutwhatcertainotherpartsofherhaddone.

Needlesstosay,herbodydefinitelyrememberedhowmuchithadlikedhis,whichwasdeeplyunfairand,quitefrankly,treasonous
ofit.

Takingadeepbreath,sheclosedhereyesandremindedherselfofthemantrashe’dcomeupwithdrivingawayfromhimlast
night.

Heistheworst,heistheworst,heistheactual,literalworst.
Itprobablywasn’tthatenlightenedamantra,butitgotthejobdone,andwhensheopenedhereyes,itwasalittleeasier
torememberthereweregoodreasonsshe’dleftwithoutasecondglance,bothnineyearsagoandlastnight.

“Wereyoujustpicturinghavingsexwithhim?”
ViviglaredatGwyn.“No,”shelied,andwassavedfromanymorequestionsbytheringingofthechimeoverthedoor.
“We’renotopenyet!”Gwyncalledout,butitwasn’tanearlyFounder’sDaycustomercomingin,itwasthemayor.
VivilookedoveratJaneEllis,atinybrunettewhohadaseriouslygreatstilettogame.Today’spairwerebrightorange,
workingnicelywithherblacksuitandtheskullstudsinherears.

“HaveeitherofyouseenRhysPenhallow?”sheasked,herfingersmovingoverherphoneevenasshelookedbetweenGwynand
Vivi.

“Ihaven’t,”Gwynsaidslowly,lookingoveratVivi.
Clearingherthroat,Vivisteppedforwardand,withsupremeeffort,keptfromfidgetingwithherhands.Gwynalwayssaidthatwashertell.
“Ibumpedintohimlastnight?”sheoffered.“Hewasonhiswayuptothehouse.”
Withafrustratedsound,Janelookeddownatherphone.“Well,he’sduetogivetheFounder’sDayspeechintwentyminutes,
andhehasyettocheckinatthewelcomebooth.”

Vivirelaxedalittle.Okay,ifthatwastheonlycauseforconcern,maybeRhyswasn’tactuallylyingdeadinaditchonthe
sideofthemountain.Thewords“welcomebooth”wereprobablyuptherewith“fiscalresponsibility”and“ethicalmonogamy”
intermsofphraseshe’dshyawayfrom.

“Ihaven’tbeenabletoreachhimonhisphone,butmaybeI’mfuckingupthewholeinternationalnumberthing,Idon’tknow,”
Janewenton.“Inanycase,Founder’sDaycan’tstartuntilwedoallthespeeches,andhe’sontheprogram.”

ShelookedupatGwyn,beseeching.“He’son.The.Program.”
“He’llturnup,”Vivisaid,layingareassuringhandonJane’sarmonlytostepbackslightlybecause,goodgod,thewoman
wasactuallyvibrating;howmuchcoffeehadsheconsumedthismorning?

“Vivicouldgolookforhim,”Gwynsaid,andViviwonderedifsomewitcheshadthepowertokillwiththeirmindsbecause
thatsurewouldbehandyrightaboutnow.

“Imean,”Gwynwenton,barelysuppressinghergrin,“you’venevermethim,Jane,andheandViviareoldfriends.”
“Really?”JaneturnedtoViviandforthebarestsecond,herfingersstoppedtyping.“Whydidn’tyousay?”
Vivisniffedandwavedahand.“Oh,itwasagesago,andwehaven’tkeptintouch.AndlikeIsaid,I’msurehe’llbehere.
TraditionisreallyimportanttothePenhallows,andhecameallthiswayjusttodothis.”

Andhe’sdefinitelynotdead,Ididnotactuallyleavehimtodieorgeteatenbywolves,therearen’tanywolvesleftin
Georgia,I’mprettysure.Althoughtherearebears…
“Youknowwhat,Iwilljustgomillaround,seeifIcanfindhim,okay?”
AsVivihustledoutoftheshop,sheheardGwynsaytoJane,“See?Problemsolved!”
Vividefinitelyhopedso.
ThemainstreetthroughGravesGlen’sdowntownwasalreadystartingtofillupeventhoughtheskywasgrayandthetemperature
haddroppedovernight,goingfrompleasantlyautumnaltodownrightcrisp.

AsVivilookedup,cloudsmovedquicklyoverhead,andshehopedthewholethingwasn’tabouttoberainedout.They’dhad
hot,humidFounder’sDaysbefore,butusually,themagicthrummingundereverythingkeptbadweatheratbay.

Agustofwindblewdownthestreet,rattlingtheplasticpumpkinshangingfromtheold-fashionedgaslamps,andViviwished
she’dgrabbedhercoatfromthebackroomofSomethingWicked.

Hopefullyshe’dspotRhysprettyquickly,gethimovertothewelcomebooth,andthenshecouldspendtherestofthedayhelpingElaineandGwynoutattheshop.She’dbedamnedifshewasgoingtostandinthecrowdandwatchRhysmakeabigspeechaboutthehistoryofthetown,hisfamilyhonororwhateveritwashewasactuallyplanningtosay.
Asshepassedafamilyalldresseduplikewitches,completewiththepointyhats,Vivismiled.ShelovedFounder’sDay,even
whenitinvolvedherex.ItkickedoffthewholeHalloweenseason,andthetownfilledupwithpeoplereallycommittedto
havingfun.AccordingtoAuntElaine,inthepast,Founder’sDayhadbeenamoresomberaffair,arecognitionofthesacrifices
thePenhallowshadmadeinfoundingthislittlevillage,tuckedawayinthemountains.GryffudPenhallowhaddiedhisfirst
yearhere,afterall,andtherewasalegendthathisghoststillroamedthehillsabovethetown.

Butoverthepastdecade—andafteraseriesofmayorslikeJane—GravesGlenhadtransformeditselfintoaHalloweenhotspot.
Therewasthename,ofcourse,butalsothewholecharmingsmalltownthing,thetreesglowingbrightorange,theappleorchardsjustontheedgeofthevillage.AndsinceFounder’sDaywasOctober
thirteenth,ithadslowlymorphedintothenaturalstartingpointoftheirbusiestseason.

Sorry,Gryffud.
Therewerealreadyboothssetupsellingeverythingfromcandyapplesto“Halloweentrees,”littleminiatureChristmastreespaintedblackanddecoratedwithwoodenpumpkins,witchhatsandghosts.
Viviwavedatseveralpeoplesheknew,includingEzi,whowasbuyingagiantbagofkettlecornwithherboyfriend,Stuart,
andkepthereyespeeledforthatfamiliarlankygait,thatrumpledhair,thosebroadshoulders.

Finally,justwhenshewasabouttothinkhemightactuallybeinabear’sstomachsomewherebetweenheraunt’scabinand
thebottomofthemountain,Vivispottedhim.

HewasstandingjustoutsideCoffeeCauldron,atrulyenormouspapercupinhand,andasViviapproached,hepulledthecoffee
inevencloser.

“Vivienne,Ihavealreadyhadamorning;ifyou’reheretoattempttokillmeagain,Iwarnyou,itwillbeveryunsporting
ofyou.”

Hiseyeswerehiddenbysunglassesdespitethegrayday,alookthatwould’vebeendoucheyonanyotherman,butonethat
hewas,unsurprisingly,pullingoff.

Ithelpedthattherestofhisoutfitwasequallygreat.Graytrousers,awhitebutton-downunbuttonedjustso,adeepcharcoal
vestandaroundhisneck,asilverpendantwithadarkpurplejewel.

Vivihadasudden,explicitmemoryofthatsamependantdanglingagainstherchestashe’dmovedaboveher,insideher,and
feltherfaceflamehot.

Shehadn’tevenlikedjewelryonmenbeforehim,butthatnecklacesuitedhim,thedelicacyofthechainemphasizingthewidthofhischest,theadornmentmakinghimsomehowmoremasculine,notless.
Rhyssippedhiscoffeeanddidn’tsayanything,butshefeltlikeheprobablyknewwhatshewasthinking.
Whichmighthavebeenwhyhertonewasalittlesharpwhenshesaid,“Youneedtogotothewelcomebooth.”
Hepulledaface.“Thefuckisthat?”
Rollinghereyes,Vivitookhimbytheelbow,steeringhimawayfromthecoffeeshopandtowardtherowoftentssetupin
thesidestreetbetweenSomethingWickedandTheWrittenWyrd.

“Themayorisfreakingoutthatyouhaven’tcheckedinyet,sogocheckin.”
“Wereyouworried?”heasked,andshedidn’tlikehowdelightedhesounded.“DidyouthinkI’ddied?Didyouthinkyourcallous
actionshadresultedinmydeath?”

“Ithinkyouneedtogocheckin,makeyourspeechandgohome,Rhys.”
Hestopped,pullingthemupshort,andasheturnedtolookather,Rhysreacheduptoslidehissunglassesdownhisnose.
“Ineedtocheckin,makemyspeechandchargetheleylines.ThenIcangohome.”
Vivicouldfeelafewheadsturntheirway.Sheonlyspottedahandfulofotherwitchesinthecrowd,peoplesheknewfrom
thecollege,somostofthepeoplelookingatthemhadnoideawhoRhyswas.Hewasjustthekindofpersonwhoattracted
stares.

She’dreallylikedthatabouthim.Once.
Now,sheleanedinandsaid,“Okay,maybedon’tannouncethattothewholetownandhalfthetouristsinGeorgia,butyes,
that,andthenhome.ThegoinghomepartisreallywhatIwantyoutofocuson.”

Viviwenttotughimbackdownthestreetagain,buthestoodfirm,andshe’dforgottenthatforsomeonewholookedsorangy,
hewasaprettysolidguy.Hedefinitelywasn’tmoving.

“Comewithme.”
Sheblinked.“ToWales?”
Thatslowsmilehadoncecompletelyundoneher,andnowmadeherwanttosmackitoffhisface.
Orkissit.
Oneortheother.
“Icertainlywouldn’tobjecttothat,butwhatImeantwastothelines.Aftermyspeech,afterthis…charmingfestival
isover.”

Inspiteofherself,Vivifeltalittlethrillatthat.She’dnevervisitedtheleylines,whichlayinacaveonthemountain
oppositefromElaine’smountain.Thecavewasasacredspace,onlyevervisited,asfarassheknew,byPenhallows.

She’dbelyingifshesaidshe’dneverwantedtoseethem.Togetclosetothatkindofpower.
“Yousaidyouwantedto.Before,”Rhyswenton,pushinghissunglassesbackintoplace.
Andthensherememberedit.TheSolsticeRevel,thetwooftheminatent,herheadspinningwithmagicanddesireandthe
sheerthrillofthisman,thatnight.

Youknow,we’renotfarfromtheleylineshere,he’dsaid,kissingthetipofhernose.Thesourceofallthemagicinthisvalley.Myancestorlaidthemdownhimself
Oh,Ididn’trealizeIwasmakingoutwithvisitingroyalty,she’dteased,andhe’dsmiledather,kissedheragain.

I’vealwayswantedtoseethose.Later,whisperedagainstthewarmskinofhisneck.

I’lltakeyouthere.
Hehadn’t.Theyhadn’tlastedlongenoughforthatlittletrip.
Butnowhewasofferingitagain.
Wasitapeaceoffering?Oradeeplymisguidedseductionattempt?
Shelookedintohisblueeyes,andrealizedshereallyhadnoidea.
Andatthesamemoment,sherealizedshealsodidn’tcare.Gettingupcloseandpersonalwiththeleylineswasanhonorfew
witchesgot,andshewastakingit.

“Okay,sure,”shesaid,andthen,justincasehegotthewrongidea,sheaddedapoketohischest.“Besides,youoweme.”
“Idon’tknow,aftertheattemptedmurder,I’dsaywe’reattheveryleasteven,”Rhysreplied,andthen,whenhesawher
look,drainedtherestofhiscoffee.“Fine.Ioweyou.Now,showmetothis‘welcomebooth,’andlet’sgetthisoverwith.”
Chapter7
“Youdon’tthinkwehavethesamenose,doyou?”
Rhysstudiedtheheadofhisancestor,currentlylyingatthebaseofitsstatue.WhoeverhadsculptedtheunfortunateGryffud
Penhallowhadgoneintoalotofdetail—thecurlinghairoverthebrow,theslightfrownandexpressionofNobleSuffering
intheeyes,andanabsolutebeastofanose.

Themayor,Jane,wasstillunspoolingalineofcautiontapearoundthebrokenstatuewithonehand,andbarkingintoacell
phoneheldintheother,soshedidn’tanswer,andRhyssighed,touchingthebridgeofhisownnose.

“Badluck,oldman,”hesaidtoGryffud’shead,thenlookedbackupatthetopoftheplinth.
Thespeechhadbeengoingsowell,allthingsconsidered.Rhysfiguredtheaccentdidmostoftheheavyliftingforhim,plusthenoveltyofhavinganactualPenhallow,allthewayfromWales.Andhe’dunderstoodthatthiswasthekindofthingpeoplelikedkeptbrief—let’sbehonest,theywerereallyheretobuycandiedapplesandhand-dippedcandles,notlistentohimblatheronabouthisdeadancestor.
Sothanksforthewarmwelcome,aquickacknowledgmentofthebeautyofthetown,afewsentencesinWelsh,alwaysacrowd-pleaser,
andhe’dbeendone,onedutydischarged.

Andthenhe’dnearlyhadhisownheadknockedoffhisshouldersbyGryffud’s
Assoonashe’dsteppedontothelittlestepsleadingoffthestage,he’dheardthecrack,thenthegaspfromthecrowd,and
hadsomeinstinctnoturgedhimtofreeze,hewould’vebeendirectlyundertheplummetingstoneskullofGryffudPenhallow.

“Iamsosorry,”themayorsaidforwhat,Rhysthought,wasatleastthethirty-fifthtime.“Idon’tevenknowhowthishappened.”
Shewasstillholdingthebrightyellowtape,hercellphoneshovedbackintoaholsteratherwaist.Inherheels,shebarely
cameuptohischin,andeventhoughRhyssuspectedshe’dreplacedallofherbloodwithRedBull,shewasdefinitelyattractive
withherbigdarkeyesandflushedcheeks.

However,beingnearlykilledforthesecondtimeintwenty-fourhourshadsomethingofadampeningeffectonthelibido,so
hedidn’tevenattempttoflirtashereplied,“Hardlyyourfault.Probablyjustol’Gryffudlettingitbeknownhewould’ve
preferredadifferentPenhallow,andIcan’tblamehimforthat.I’mjustgladnooneelsewasstandingnearby.”

Hewassmilingashesaidit,butasRhysglancedbackandforthbetweenthestatueandtheheadontheground,somethingcoldsettledintohischest.
Lastnighthadbeenonething—aseriesofmishapsthatitwaseasytochalkuptoastrangerunofbadluck,hismagicthrown
offbycrossinganentirebloodyocean.

This?Itfelt…different.
Headsdidn’tjustbreakoffstatues,certainlynotexactlyashewaswalkingunderthem,andafterassuringthemayorone
moretimethathewasfineanddidn’tplanonenactingsomeextravagantrevengeforthisinsult,Rhysheadedacrossthestreet
toVivienne’sfamily’sshop.

Achimerangashepushedopenthedoor,somethingslightlyoff-keyandhaunting,andjustabovehim,somesortofanimatronic
nightmareofaravenbegantosquawkandflapitsarms,itseyesblinkingpurple.

“Subtle,”hesaid,andfromherspotatthecashregister,Vivienne’scousin,Gwyn,raisedhermiddlefingerathim.
“We’reclosed.”
“Youveryobviouslyarenot.”
“We’reclosedtoanyandallexesofVivi’s,andyouqualify,sooooo…”
Nearby,agroupofyoungwomenwaslookingatadisplayofleatherjournals.Rhyssawahand-paintedsignadvertisingthemasgrimoires,buthecouldn’tdetecteventhefaintesthintofmagiccomingoffthem.Probablybestnottoselltherealthingtotourists,though,andasRhyslookedaround,herealizedthatveryfewthingsintheshopradiatedanysortofrealpowerexceptforGwynherself,deckedoutinfullwitchyregaliatoday.
He’dmetherahandfuloftimesduringthatsummerhe’dlivedinGravesGlen,backwhenherhairhadbeenpink.Itwasred
nowandlong,hangingnearlytoherwaist,andwhileshedidn’tlookthatmuchlikeVivienne,therewasdefinitelyaresemblance
inthelookofscornshewasthrowinghisway.

“Didyoumissmyneardecapitationoutthere?”heasked,noddingbackoutatthestreet.
Gwynwidenedhereyes.“Wait,oneofmydreamsalmostcametrue,andIdidn’tgettoseeit?”
“Whatdreams?”
Vivienneappearedfrombehindastar-spangledcurtaininonecornerofthestore,aboxofwhatappearedtobetinyskulls
inherarms,herhairgatheredupinamessybun,andassheblewastrandoutofherface,Rhys’sheartkickedpainfully
againsthischest.

Ifonlysheweren’tsodamnedpretty.Ifonlyhehadn’tbeenthebiggestcock-upthissideoftheAtlanticnineyearsago.

Ifonlyhedidn’tsuspect,justthelittlestbit,thatshemightbebehindhissuddenrushofill-fortune.
Hedidn’twanttothinkthat,butforthepastfewminutes,eversincehe’dlookeduptoseeGryffud’snosecareeningtoward
his,ithadbeenthere,mutteringawayinthebackofhismind.

ItseemedalittletoomuchofacoincidencethatthesecondhearrivedbackinGravesGlenafternineyearsaway,everythingwentcompletelysideways,andwhileViviennehadneverstruckhimasallthatvindictive,shehadlefthimtobekilledoreatenorrunoveryetagainlastnight.

Allofwhichheprobablydeserved,butthatwasnotthepoint.
Now,helookedatherandasked,“Doyousellascryingmirrorinthisstorebyanychance?”
Frombehindthecounter,Gwynsnorted.“Yeah,rightbehindourjarsofeyeofnewt.Whatareyou,athousandyearsold?”
Scryingmirrorswerealittleold-fashioned,evenforwitches,butsowasRhys’sfather,whichmeantthattheywereoneofthebetterwaysto
communicatewithhim.

“Ithinkthereactuallymightbeoneintheback,”Viviennesaid,settingdownherboxofskulls.Asshedid,severalofthem
openedtheirjaws,lettingoutasortofcreakinggroanthatmadethegirlsoverbythegrimoiresjumpthenburstintogiggles.

“Seriously?”Gwynasked,leaningonthecounter.“WehaveascryingmirrorandIdidn’tevenknowit?”
“IfounditinsomeantiquestoreinAtlanta,”Viviennerepliedbeforeglancingoveratthecustomers,thenbackatRhys.
Movingalittlecloser,sheloweredhervoiceandsaid,“Youcan’tuseitinhere.”
Mimickingherwhisper,Rhysreplied,“Wasn’tgoingto.”
Shefrownedalittle,awrinkleappearingbetweenherbrows,andRhys’sfingersitchedtoreachoutandtouchit,smoothit
awaywithhisfingers.

Asthatwasaterribleidea,hekepthishandsfirmlyinhispockets.
“Yougoodouthere?”VivienneaskedGwyn,whogaveherathumbs-up.
“NowthatIhavemorenoisyskullstoselltonoisykids,Iamset.”
Foldingherarmsoverherchest,Viviennelookedathim,andafteramoment,jerkedherheadatthecurtaininthecorner.
“Comeon.”

Rhysfollowed,andwhenshepulledbackthecurtain,heexpectedtostepintoastoreroomofsomekind,somedustyshelving,
abunchofcardboardboxes,muchlikethebackroomatLlewellyn’spub.

Instead,heimmediatelyfoundhimselfinacircularchamber,thewallsawarm,honey-coloredwood.Heavyironchandeliers
heldfatcandlesthatcasttheentireplaceinasortofcozyglow,asdidaseriesofstained-glassglobesaffixedtothe
walls,spillingcoloredlightontothecomfortablyshabbyrugsonthefloor.

Allaroundtheroomwereaseriesofbeautifullycarvedwardrobes,andViviennewalkedtothenearestonenow,openingit
andmutteringtoherself.

“Thisis…quitesomething,”Rhyssaid,lookingaround,andwhenViviennelookedbackoverhershoulderathim,herexpression
wasalittlesofter,alittlemorefamiliar.

“AuntElainelikesthingstofeelhomey,”shesaid.“Whyhaveaboring,depressingstockroomwhenyoucouldhavethis?”
Thenshelookedaround.“Imean,itdoessometimesmakemefeellikeI’minavideogameofTheHobbit,butstill.”

Rhyshuffedoutalaugh,andshesmiledathim.
Justforasecond.
Oneofherfrontteethhadthetiniestchipinit.He’dforgottenthat.He’dlovedthat.Thatlittleimperfectioninthatsunnysmile.

ThensheturnedbacktothewardrobeandRhysclearedhisthroat,movingbackslightly.
“Andifcustomerscomebackhere?”
Viviennereachedfartherintothewardrobe,digginginitscontents.“Theydon’t,”shesaid.“Slightrepellingspellonthis
partofthestore.Elainetweakeditsothattheydon’tfeeluncomfortableorscared,theyjust…don’twanttowalkin.”

“That’srathergenius,actually,”Rhyssaid,impressed.Itwasonethingtocastaspell,buttailoringittoyourspecific
needstookafairamountofskill.

Turningbacktohim,mirrorinhand,Vivienneraisedhereyebrows.“Yeah,well,wedon’tallhavetobefancyWelshwitches
toknowsomekick-assmagic.”

“Well,asthisparticularfancyWelshwitchiscurrentlygettinghisasskickedbymagic,Icannotdisagreewithyouthere.”
Hereachedforthemirror,butViviennedidn’tofferit,watchinghimwithanotheroneofthoselittlefrowns.“Whatdoyou
mean?”

Sighing,Rhysdroppedhishandandrockedbackonhisheels.“Justthatwhenamannearlymeetshisdeathtwiceinlessthan
twodays,hebeginstothinksomethingmaybeafoot.”

Shewasstillfrowningandhadgoneverystill,andRhyswatchedhercarefully,lookingforsomesign…ofwhat,guilt?DidhereallybelievethatViviennewasouttogetrevengeafterallthistime?Overarelationshipthathadn’tevensurvivedanentiresummer?
Hedidn’t.Notreally.
Ormaybehejustdidn’twantto.
“Inanycase,assoonasIhavethat,”hewenton,noddingatthemirror,“Icantalktomyfather,andmakesuremycharging
theleylinesisagoodideagiventhefactthatGryffudPenhallowattemptedtokillme.”

WhenViviennejustkeptstaring,Rhysfilledherinquicklyabouttheentirestatueincident,finishingupwith,“Sosee?
Ifyou’dstayedtowatchmyspeech,youwould’vegottenquitetheshow.”

“Areyouallright?”sheasked,lookinghimupanddown,herlowerlipcaughtbetweenherteeth.Thegaslampnearesther
castredandbluepatternsoverherhair,pickingupthelittlesparklesinherpurplesweater,andRhyssteppedforward,
holdingoutonehand.

“I’mfine.OrIwillbeonceIusethat.”
HenoddedatthemirrorandViviennehandeditover,themetalstillwarmfromherhand.
“Whyareyouusingthistotalktoyourfatheranyway?”sheasked,hershouldersalittleloosernow,someofthetension
leavingherface.“It’sfortellingthefuture,notcommunicating.”

Rhysdidn’tevenknowexactlyhowtoexplainhisfatherorthisparticulareccentricityofhis,sohejustshruggedandsaid,
“MorefancyWelshwitchstuff.”

“Gotit.SoI’lljust…you’llprobablywantsomeprivacy,”shesaid,reachinguptotuckoneofthoseloosestrandsofhairbehindherear.
“Imean,ifyou’dliketostayandmeetmyfather…”

Viviennewrinkledhernose.“Fromwhatyou’vetoldmeabouthim,Ithinkit’sbestIpassonthat.I’llbeoutfront.”
Withaswishofthestarrycurtain,shewasgone,leavingRhysstandinginthemiddleoftheroom,holdingthemirrorand
dreadingeverybitofwhatcamenext.

Sighing,Rhysheldupthescryingmirrorandlookedintoit.Hewasscowling,anunfamiliarexpressiononhisownfaceand
onethat,herealizedwithabitofshock,madehimlookanawfullotlikebothWellsandtheirfather.

Ifthat’swhatthisplacewasdoingtohim,hedefinitelyneededtoleaveassoonaspossible.
Butfirst,this.
Mutteringthewordsunderhisbreath,Rhyspressedhisfreehandtothemirror’scoolglassandfeltitrippleunderhisfingertips.
Itonlytookafewmomentsbeforehisfather’sfaceappearedoutoftheswirlinggraymistinthemirror,hislibraryclearly
visiblebehindhim.

“Rhys?”heasked,hisfearsomebrowsdrawntogetherinatightV.“Whatisit?”
“Lovelytoseeyou,too,Da,”Rhysmuttered,andthenhisfather’sfrownsomehowdeepened.
“Whereinthebloodyhellareyou?Isthat…somesortoftheater?Afortune-teller’swagon?”
Hisfather’sfaceloomedcloserinthemirror.“RhysMareduddPenhallow,ifyouareconsortingwithfortune-tellers—”
“Da,Ionlyhaveyouforatick,canItellyouwhyI’mcalling?”
Simon’sexpressionclearedslightlyandheleanedback,waiting.
Asquicklyashecould,RhystoldhisfathereverythingthathadhappenedtohimsincearrivinginGravesGlen,fromthecar
troubletothenear-missaccidenttothestatue.Heleftoutthebitaboutnothavinghotwaterforhisshowerthismorning
ashewasfairlycertainitdidn’thelphiscase,butbythetimehewasfinished,hisfatherlookedalmost…amused.

Whataterrifyingprospect.
“You’renotcursed,lad,”Simonassuredhim.“Penhallowmencannotbecursed.Notinoverathousandyearshasoneofusfallen
victimtoanysortofhex.”

Amusementgavewaytosmugnessasheadded,“Allofthisisnodoubtadirectresultofyourdecisiontotravellikeahuman
ratherthanviatheTravelingStone,asIsuggested.”

“AheadfellcleanoffastatuebecauseIdecidedtoflycommercialandrentacar?Isthatwhatyou’resaying,Da?Because
I’mnotsureIseethecorrelation.”

Nowthescowlwasback.Thatwasactuallyabitcomforting.
“Haveyouchargedtheleylinesyet?”
“Notyet,no.Butthat’sthething,isn’tit?WhatifIamcursedandthat…Idon’tknow,buggersuptheleylinesor
somesuch?”

“WhileIdonotdoubtyourabilityto,asyousay,‘buggerup’mostanything,Rhys,Iamtellingyou,thereisnopossibility
youarecursed,andeveniftherewere,somegirlwhobarelyqualifiesasahedgewitchcouldnothavedonesuchathing.Nottoyou.Nottoanyofus.”
“She’smorethanahedgewitch,”Rhyssaid,hisfingerstighteningaroundthemirror’shandle,buthisfatherwavedahand.
“Whateversheis,I’mtellingyouthereisnowayshecould’veplacedahexonyou.It’s…ridiculous.Preposterous.”
“Bitliketalkingtopeoplethroughmirrors,really,”Rhysreplied,andhisfather’sgazesharpened.
“DothejobIsentyoutheretodo,boy,comehomeanddon’teverletmeheartheword‘cursed’leaveyourlipsagain.”Chapter8
“SoIthinkmaybewecursedRhys.”
Vivikepthervoicelowasshesaidit,glancingbackoverhershouldertowardthecurtaininthecorneroftheroom.He’d
beenbackthereforawhilenow,andshewonderedwhatheandhisdadweretalkingabout.Couldhisdaddosomekindoflong-distance
spellandfindoutthatyes,ViviandGwynhadlaidacurseonRhysallthoseyearsago?WouldhedeclareWitchyWaronthem?PullthemagicfromGravesGlen?Wouldhe—

“Vivi,ifwecouldactuallyplacecursesonpeople,thatbitchwhoalwaysgivesmewholemilkwhenIaskforsoyatCoffee
Cauldronwouldbeadeadwomanbynow,”Gwynsaid,placinganotheroneofthechatteringplasticskullsonthedisplaytable
inthemiddleofthestore.Theywentthroughthousandsofthethingsthistimeofyear,parentshappytohavesomethingcheap
andspookytobuytheirkids,kidsdelightedtochasetheirsiblingsarounddowntownwithacacklinghead.

Vivipickedupastrayonefromthecounternow,tappingherfingernailsagainstitsteethasshefretted.“Okay,butdoesn’titseemlikealot?Thecarthing,thatmightbenothing,butthestatue?”
“Thatthinghasbeenthereforever,”Gwynsaid,turningtofaceVivi,herwitch’shatslightlyaskew.“Andmaybewhenthey
weresettingupthestage,theybumpeditorsomething.Look,ifanyoneshouldbefreakedoutaboutthatstatue,it’sJane.
Andtrustme,shewillbe.It’sgonnatake,like,atleasttwobottlesofwinetogethertochillouttonight.”

“Ididn’tthinkyoutwowerestillathing,”Vivisaidastheskull’smouthcreakedopen,eyesblinking,andGwynshrugged.
“We’rething-adjacent.Speakingof,”sheadded,givingVivialookfromthecornerofhereye,“youandtheDickbagseemed
alittlesparky.”

Settingtheskullbackonthecounterwithathwack,Vivistraightenedup.“Excuseme?”
AnothershrugasGwyndriftedaroundtotheothersideofthetable.“Justsaying.Thechemistryseemslikeit’sstillthere,
andyouareawfullyworriedabouthim.”

“I’mworriedthatwemighthaveaccidentallyhexedthesonofaverypowerfulwitch,”Viviargued,andGwynwavedahand.
“Alikelystory.IthinkyoustillliketheDickbag.Oratleastwanttohavesexwithhim,whichisunderstandable.Iactuallyforgothowcute
heis.Ordidhegetcuteroverthepastnineyears?”

Movingtothecounter,GwynfacedVivi,proppingherchininherhands.“Whatdoyouthink?”
“Ithinkthatifyoukeepcallinghim‘theDickbag,’youcan’talsoactlikeyou’reamatchmakingtweeninaDisneymovie.”

“Icontainmultitudes.”
“Gwyn,Iswear—”Vivistarted,butbeforeshecouldfinishthatthreat,thecurtainopenedandRhysappeared.
Helookedirritated,anemotionVivihadneverassociatedwithRhysandonethat,disturbingly,looked…reallygoodon
him.Somethingaboutthewayfrowningmadethelinesofhisfaceevensharper,theblueofhiseyesmoreintense.

Sherealizedshewasstaring,andsomehowsensingthatGwynwaslookingatherwithmoresmugnessthananywomanshould,Vivi
movedfrombehindthecountertowardRhys,holdingherhandoutforthemirrorthathestillheld.

“Diditwork?”sheasked,andheblinked,likehewassurprisedtoseeherthere.
“Hmm?Oh,yes.Yes,gotthroughtohimnoproblem,thankyou,”hesaid,handingherthemirror.“Yousaidyoufounditat
anantiquestore?”

Nodding,Vivilookedatherownreflectioninthemirror,fightingtheurgetostickhertongueoutathertoo-pinkcheeks
andtoo-brighteyes.Getagrip,girl.
“Yeah,justhangingoutintheback.Theownershadnoideawhattheyhad,andIdecidedtostoreithereratherthanatmy
place.”

“Why?”
Rhyswaslookingather,reallylookingather,andoh,shit,herewasanotherthingshe’dforgottenabouthim.Hewasachampionlistener.Andnotforshow.Hegenuinelycaredwhatyouhadtosay,alwayswantedtoknowmore.Itwaslikehavingaspotlight
onyouallthetime,butnotinawaythatmadeyoufeelexposedorondisplay.Itjustmadeyoufeel…warm.Appreciated.

Untilitwasgone.
Vivitorehergazefromhisandlookedbackatthemirror.“Idon’tknow,”shesaid.“Tootempting,maybe.Nooneshouldlook
intothefuturetoohard,right?Ofcourse,”sheadded,wigglingthemirrorslightly,“Ididn’tknowitcouldalsobeused
forlong-distancephonecalls.”

“Onlyifyou’retryingtocontactaparticularlypretentiousprick,”Rhyssaid,andViviraisedhereyebrows.
“Soit’llworktocontactyou,then?”
Rhys’ssmilespreadacrosshisfaceasslowandsweetashoney,andoverhisshoulder,VivisawGwynsmirk,herfingerscoming
togethertoproduceaquickshowerofpurplelightasshemouthed,Sparky
HadRhysnotbeenwatchingher,Vivimighthavehadafewchoicewordstomouthbacktohercousin.
Instead,sheliftedherhead,holdingthemirroragainstherchest.“Anyway.Everything’sfine?Withyourfather?”
Ididn’tcurseyou?Thisisjustbadluckandhasnothingtodowithadrunkandbrokenheartedteenagewitchnearlyadecade
ago?
Rhys’ssmilefaded,themomentlost,andVivitoldherselfthatwasagoodthing.
Andthen,toherimmenserelief,henodded.“Soitseems.Nowjusttochargetheleylines,andI’mbacktoWales.”
“Right,thelines.When?”
Hepulledadelicatewatchfromthepocketofhisvest,glancingatit.“Themoonrisesaroundseventonight,sosometime
aroundthen?”

Gwynwasstillwatchingthemalthough,thankthegoddess,atthatmomentthedoorchimedagain,meaningcustomers.WhenGwyn
learnedthatViviwasgoingtochargethelineswithRhys,shewasnevergoingtoheartheendofit.

Shestillwantedtodoit,though.
AsGwynwalkedtowardthedoor,VivinoddedatRhys.“Meetmehereatsix-thirty.”
Justafewmorehours.Thenshecouldseetheleylines,Rhyscoulddowhatheneededtodoandthiscouldfinallybeover.
Whichwaswhatshewanted.
Absolutely.
OfallthetimesVivihadthoughtaboutRhysovertheyears—andithadbeenmoretimesthanshewantedtoadmit—she’dnever
thoughtaboutsomethingasbasicandboringashavinghiminhercar.

Butherehewas,leaningbackinthepassengerseatofherKia,theseatmovedback,hislonglegsstretchedoutinfront
ofhim,hertravelmug,theonewiththegreensparklesandfrogsonit,heldinoneofhishandsasGravesGlendisappeared
behindthemandtheyclimbedhigherintothehills.

Twilighthadjuststartedtodeepen,turningtheskyasoftviolet,therestofthesceneryblurringintoblue,andVivi’sfingersflexedonhersteeringwheelasshetriedvery,veryhardnottothinkofthenightshe’dmetRhys.
Ithadn’tbeenexactlylikethis,ofcourse.IthadbeenJune,notmid-October,theairsofterandwarmer,thecolorsdifferent,
butithadbeenanothermagicalnight,aspecialone,andshewonderedifhewasthinkingaboutit,too.

Hewasuncharacteristicallyquietoverthereinherpassengerseat,staringoutthewindow,occasionallytakingsipsofcoffee.
Wasthatpartofit?Didhehavetocenterhimselforsomethingbeforehedidmagicthisbig?

Forthefirsttime,Vivirealizedthatshemightbeinalittlebitoverherheadhere.NotwithRhys,exactly,butwiththe
magicshewasabouttowitness.Shekeptherspellssmall,couldgowholeweekswithoutusingherpowers.

Wasshereadyforwhatshewasabouttosee?
“ItistrulyamazinghowmuchIcanhearyouthinking.”

Vivithrewhimaquickglancebeforeturninghereyesbacktotheroad.“What,literally?Likemind-reading?”
Rhyschuckledandtookanothersipofhiscoffeebeforeshakinghishead.“No,Idon’thavethatpower,andevenifIdid,
Idefinitelywouldn’tuseitonyou.Onlysomanytimesamanshouldhearhimselfcalledabastard,really.Ijustmeanthat
yougetthislookwhenit’sclearyou’reconcentrating.It’s—”

“Ifyousay‘cute,’I’llthrowyououtofthiscar.”
“Iwouldnotdare.Iwasthinkingmore‘charming.’”
Vivicouldn’thelpbutglanceoverathimagain.Hewassmilingather,thatsoft,fondsmileshe’dcompletelyforgottenaboutuntilthismoment,andthistimeitwasalittlehardertolookbackattheroad
“I’llallowthat,”shefinallysaid.“Andforyourinformation,Iwasn’treallythinkingaboutyoubeingabastard.Imean,
thatisadefaultthoughtinmybrainatalltimes,butIwasn’tactivelythinkingit.”

“Goodtoknow.”
“Iwasthinkingabouttheleylines.What’sactuallyinvolvedinchargingthem.”
Rhysshiftedinhisseat,puttingthecoffeeinhercupholder.“Lessthanyou’dthink,really.Afewmagicwords,alittle
razzle-dazzle”—hestretchedouthishands,wigglinghisfingers—“andit’sdone.”

“Oh,”Vivisaid,saggingalittleinherseat,andhegrinned,leaningback.
“Wereyouexpectingtobemoreimpressed?”
“Idon’tknowwhatIwasexpecting,”sheadmitted,andRhyslookedoverather,foldinghisarmsoverhischest.
“YouweretheFullPotter,right?”
Viviscrewedupherfaceassheturnedthecardownthenarrowlanerightoffthehighway,theonemostpeoplewouldmiss
completely.“Thewhat?”

“TheFullPotter,”herepeated.“Notfindingoutyou’reawitchuntilyou’reolder,notgrowingupwithit.‘Yerawitch,
Vivi,’thatsortofthing.”

Nowthatshedidn’thavetowatchforoncomingtraffic,ViviturnedthefullforceofaglareonRhys,knowingitwassomewhathamperedbythesmileshecouldfeeltuggingatthecornersofhermouth.
“Thatisnotathingpeoplesay,‘theFullPotter.’”
“Itis,too.Youjustdon’tknowbecauseyouare,asstated,theFullPotter.”
“Okay,soifyoucanhearmethinkingagain,knowI’mbacktothe‘bastard’thoughts.”
Stillgrinning,Rhysturnedtolookoutthewindowasthecarstarteditsdescentintothevalleybelow.Thenighthadgotten
darkernow,theskymoreindigothanlavender,andthemoonroseoverthehills,brightandcoldandwhite.

Theperfectnightforwitching.
“Yourmumwasawitch,though,yes?”Rhysasked,turningbacktoher,andVivi’sfingersflexedalittleonthesteeringwheel.
“Shewas,yeah.Apparentlyreallygoodatit,but…Idon’tknow.Iguessthatwasherformofrebellion,rejectingall
thingsmagic.”Itdidn’thurttotalkaboutherparentsanymore.Thelossstillached,butthepainwasaweightratherthan
asharpedge.Still,ithadbeenforeversinceshe’dmentionedthemtoanyone.

“Lovearebelliouswoman,me,”Rhysmused,leaningback.Hewasstillwatchingher.EventhoughVivi’seyeswereontheroad,
shecouldfeelit.

“Soyoureallydidn’tdoanymagicgrowingup?”heasked.“Notevenaccidentally?”
“Oh,Itotallydid,”Vivireplied,smilingatthememory.“DidmyfirstspellwhenIwasfive.Iwasinthistreehousemydadhadbuiltforme,andIwasmakingtea.BywhichImeanIwasstirringdirtandwaterintoanoldteapotI’dfoundinthegarage.”
“Myfathermakesteathatclearlyusesthesamerecipe,”Rhysquipped,andVivilaughed.
“Anyway,therewerethesebigazaleabushesunderthetreehouse,andIthoughtitwouldbenicetoaddsomeofthepetals,
butIdidn’twanttogoallthewaybackdowntheladder,soIthoughtreallyhard.Aboutthemfloatingupthroughthewindow.
Andthentheyjust…”Sheliftedherhandsoffthewheelforjustamoment,flutteringherfingers.“Did.”

SheglancedbackoveratRhys,whowasstillwatchingherwiththatfondsmile,anditmadesomethinginherchestgosotight
thatshehadtolookaway,concentratingontheroadinfrontofheragain.

“Anyway,mymomfreaked,andhadthisbigtalkwithmeabouthowthatkindofthingwasn’tsafe,andshewasright,really.
I’msureiftheneighborshadseen,Iwould’veendeduponsomekindofreallyluridtalkshoworsomething.”

Vivihadn’tthoughtaboutthatmomentforyears,butnowshecouldseeitalloveragain,hermomsittingattheedgeofthe
bed,herhairthesamecolorasVivi’s,butshorter,brushingagainsthershouldersassheleanedin,smellinglikesmoke
andspice.

Ijustwantyoutobesafe,sweetgirl.
Floatingthosepetalshadn’tfeltdangerous.Ithadfeltfunand…light.Easy.

Buthermother’sfacehadbeensoserious,andVivihadneverforgottenit,hadneverfullybeenabletodetachtheideaofmagicfromdanger.Sheshiverednowasthecardescended,notfromcoldbutjustfromtheanticipationofwhattheywereabouttodo.

Ormaybeshecouldalreadysensethemagicintheair.
“Iseewhyol’Gryffudpickedthisplace,”Rhysmurmuredtohimself,sittinguptopeeroutthewindshield.
“Youcanfeelit,right?”sheasked,andhenodded.
“Areweclose?”
“Justaroundthisbend.”
Thecarcametoastopatthesideofastream,thewaterburblingandsighingoverrocksasitflowedfromthemouthofan
opencavejustinfrontofthem,theentranceyawninganddarkintheglowofVivi’sheadlights.

Sheshutoffthecar,plungingthemintodeeperdarkness,andinthegloom,Rhysturnedtoher,holdingonehandout.“Well,
Vivienne,”hesaid,“shallwe?”
Chapter9
Itreallywasunfortunatehowmuchofmagictookplaceindark,dankplaces.
AsRhyshelpedViviennestepoveraparticularlylargerockjustinsidetheentranceofthecave,hewonderedwhyhisancestors
couldn’thavelaiddownleylinessomewherewarmer,somewherealittlelessdamp.Beachesneededmagic,surely.

Butno,hisancestorhadapparentlybeenthesortofgrimfuckerwhopreferredcaves,sonowRhyswasdodgingdarkpuddles
ofwaterandslime-coveredrocks.

Although,headmittedasVivionceagainplacedherhandinhis,thelittleballoflightshe’dconjuredhoveringoverthem,
thecompanycertainlywasn’tbad.

“Howfarintothecavearethelines?”sheaskednow,droppinghishandtoreachupandpushherhairbackfromherface.
“Notfar,”Rhyssaid,peeringintothegloominfrontofhim.Hisfatherhaddrawnhimamap,probablyusinginkmadefromraven’sbloodandfive-hundred-year-oldparchment,butRhyshadpointedlyleftthefoulthingbehind,fairlycertainthathe’dbeabletofindthelinesonhisown.
Now,however,ashewalkedfartherintothecave,thewallsbecomingnarroweraroundhim,hewasn’tsurethathadbeenthe
bestidea.Hecouldfeelthemagic,ofcourse,thrumminglikeasecondheartbeatunderneathhisfeet,makingthehaironthe
backofhisneckstandonend,butwhereexactlywasitcomingfrom?

Notquiteasclear.
Pausing,Rhyslookedaroundhim.Themainchamberofthecavecametoadeadendafewyardsaway,andallhecouldseewas
solidrockoneitherside.Hadhisfather’smapmentionedasecretentrance?Orwasthismoreofhisbadluckmuckingthings
up?Hisfathermayhaveswornhewasn’tcursed,butRhyscouldn’tshaketheuneasyfeelingthatsomethingwasn’tright.Maybe
thiswaspartofit.

“St.Bugi’sballs,”hemuttered,andViviennepaused,lookingupathim.
“Areyoulost?”sheasked.
“No,”hesaid,entirelytooquickly,andshenarrowedhereyesalittle.
“Rhys.”
“Iamnot,”heinsisted,andthenturnedinacircle,thelightdrunkenlytrailingafterhim.“Ijust…needtogetmy
bearingsabit.”

“Mmmm,”Viviennesaid,crossingherarms.“Anddoyourbearingstellyouthere’sahiddenopeningjustpastyourleftshoulder?”
Rhysspunaround,squintingintothedarkness,atfirstseeingonlymoreslick,wetrock.
Andthen…thereitwas.Theslightestshadowinthemidstofallthatdarkness,cleverlyhiddenagainsttherock.
TurningbacktoVivienne,Rhysraisedhiseyebrows.“Haveyoubeenherebefore?”
Sheshookherhead.“Never.Imean,Iknewwherethecavewas,butAuntElainewasalwaysreallystrictaboutthisbeinga
sacredspacenottomesswith.”

Frowning,sheshookherhead.“Butit’sweird.It’slikeIknewwheretheopeningwasbeforeIsawit.LikeIknewifIlooked
inthatspot,I’dseeit.”

Rhyswasn’tsurewhattomakeofthat.Itwaspossibleshewasjustbetteratpickingupthemagicherethanhewas,family
bloodlinebedamned,ormaybeshe’dcaughtaglimpseofitearlierthathadn’treallyregistered.Inanycase,henolonger
hadtostandherelookinglikeacompletetit,sohenoddedtowardthecleft.“Onward,then.”

Assoonastheysteppedintothehiddenentrance,theairaroundthemseemedtochange.Itwasimmediatelycolder,somuch
sothatRhysshivered,wishinghe’dbroughtajacket.

Here,thepassagewassonarrowtheyhadtowalksinglefile,thedamprockbrushingtheirshoulders,andthefarthertheywalked,themoreinsistentthehumofmagicbecame,Rhys’searsfeelingliketheywerestuffedwithcotton,hisbodycoveredingoosebumps.
Frombehindhim,hecouldhearVivienne’sbreathinggettingfasterandknewshemustbefeelingit,too.
Butthatwasnothingcomparedtowhathefeltwhentheslimpassageopenedupintoanotherchamber,andtheleylinesglowed
beforehim.

Thewholecavewaslitwithasoftpurple,flowingriversofpuremagicpulsingonthefloor,andRhys’smouthwentdry,his
kneesfeelingshaky.

Thatwas,unfortunately,nottheonlythinghewasfeeling.
Turningbehindhim,hesawViviennestandingjustinsidetheentrance,hereyeswide,herchestrisingandfalling,andwhen
shelookedoveratRhys,hesawthesamemixofsurprise—andheat—inherface.

Thanksweetfuck,orthiswould’vebeentrulyembarrassing.
“Right,”hestarted,clearinghisthroat,“sothisisawkwardandprobablywhythissortofthingisusuallydonealone.”
Heshould’veexpectedit,really,ormaybehisfathershould’vewarnedhim,butthenno,thatconversationwouldhavebeen
excruciatingenoughtocausedeath,somaybethatwasforthebest.

Magicalwayshadaphysicaleffect.Somespellsmadeyoutired,somemadeyougiddy.Someleftyoucryingforreasonsyou
didn’tunderstand.

Andsomemagic,forwhateverreason,turnedyouon.
Apparentlytheleylineswereofthatvariety,andgiventheintensityofthemagicinthiscave,theeffectwas…similarlyintense.
Probablymagnifiedbythefactthathewascurrentlysharingthiscavewithawomanhe’doncehadalotoftrulyspectacular
sexwith,andheshouldnotbethinkingofthatevenalittlebitrightnow,nottheslightestbit.
Butasheslammedhiseyesshut,itwasallthere,unspoolinginhisbraininanX-ratedhighlightreel:Vivienne’slegswrapped
aroundhiswaist,Vivienne’shairagainsthischest,thefeelofhernippleunderthelazyswayofhisthumb,thehitchin
herbreathwhenhishandslidbetweenherlegs,thewayshelaughedwhenshecame,whichhadalwaysseemedextraordinarytohim,thatperfect,breathlesslaughagainsthisear—

“Rhys.”
Hedidn’tshriekexactlyasheopenedhiseyestofindherstandingvery,veryclosetohim,butthesoundwasn’tfaroff,andthenhemade
themistakeofputtinghishandsonherarmstosteadyhimself.

Eventhroughhersweater,herskinwaswarm,andashelookedinhereyes,hesawherpupilswerehuge,theblacknearlyswallowing
theringofhazelaroundit.“Thisissomekindofmagicthing,isn’tit?”sheallbutpanted,andhenodded,hishandsnow
movingupanddownherarmswhenwhatheneededtobedoingwassteppingfarthefuckawayfromherandpossiblyrunningbackoutintothemaincavetostickhisheadin
allthatcoldwater.

Herfingerscurledaroundthefrontofhisshirt.“Rhys,”shesaidagain,hervoicecalmandsteadyevenashergazemovedtohismouth,hertonguedartingouttowetherlips.
Rhysjustbarelymanagedtokeepfromgroaning,hishandsslidingfromherarmstoherwaist.Ifhekissedhernow,would
thathonestlybesobad?Couldn’ttheyjustlookonitasalittleformality,onelastkissbeforetheypartedforever?

Thatwasromantic.Epic,even.
Didn’tamangettobeepicallyromanticinamagiccave?
Heduckedhishead,movingincloser.God,shesmelledgood.Likesomethingsweet.Vanilla,maybe.Hewasgoingtotasteevery
bitofheruntilhefoundthesourceofthatscent.

Vivi’seyesflutteredshut,herbreathcomingoutinashakysigh.
Andthensheseemedtosteelherself,herarmssuddenlygoingrigidbetweenthem,shovinghimbacksohardthatheactually
staggeredalittle.

“Didyouseriouslybringme,”sheaskedthroughclenchedteeth,“toamagicsexcave?”
RhysblinkedatherasVivimadeherselfstepbackbecauserightatthismoment,itwastakingallherwillpowernottolaunch
herselfathisface.Hisstupid,handsomeface,currentlywearinganexpressionsomewherebetweenconfusionandoutrage.

“Begpardon?”hefinallysaid,andVivimovedevenfartherback,herarmscrossedtightlyoverherchest.Shewaspractically
shakingwithhowmuchshewantedhim,herheadspinning,herheartpoundinginherchest,herears,betweenherlegs.

Shetookanotherstepawayfromhim,andhiseyeswidened,hisposturestiffening.“Youdon’tthinkIknewthiswasgoingtohappen,doyou?OrthatIbroughtyouhereonpurpose?Imean…Ididbringyouhereonpurpose,butIhadnoidea—”

Vivishookherhead,whichalsoseemedtohelpclearitalittle.“Ofcoursenot,don’tbegross.I’mjustsayingthatmaybe
youshould’ve,Idon’tknow,askedyourdadoryourbrothersorsomeonewhatexactlyyou’dbegettingintoinhere.”

“Ah,yes,theold‘Father,willthisjobyou’resendingmetodoinvolveamagicsexcave?’talk.Truly,Iwasremissnot
tohaveit.”

“Don’tbeanasshole.”
“Thendon’tberidiculous.No,Ididn’tasktheexactspecificsofthisparticularjob.AndforallIknow,nooneelsehas
everbeeninherewithhisex-girlfriend,sothismayjustbeaunique-to-ussituation,Vivienne.”

Someofthefogofdesirewasstartingtoliftnow,andVivifeltherbreathingslowingdown,herpulsenotpoundingnearly
ashard.Hadshejustovercomethemagicoutofsheerirritation,orwasitactuallywearingoff?

ItmusthavebeenbecauseRhyswasnolongerlookingatherlikehewantedtoeatheralive.Hejustlookedpissedandmore
thanalittleoffended,andVivitoldherselfthatwasdefinitelythesaferoptionrightnow.

“Mypointis,”Vivisaid,steadiernow,“thatyouapparentlyhadnoideawhatyouwereactuallygoingtofindinhere,or
youwould’vebeenwarnedaboutit.Youdidn’tevenask,didyou?”

Rhysdidn’tanswer,hishandsshovedinhispockets,amuscletickinginhisjaw.“Whatiftherehadbeendarkermagicinhere?Somethingthatmadeuswanttokilleachotherinsteadof…”
Shewiselyletthatthoughttrailoff,herfacestillhot,herskinstilltingling.
“Buttherewasn’t,”Rhyssaid,andforthefirsttime,Vivinoticedthatthependantathisthroatwasglowingalittle,the
samepurpleasthelinesonthefloor.

“Buttheremight’vebeen,”shecountered,andhesighed,tippinghisheadbacktostudytheceiling.
“Youaskedmeherewithnoideaofwhatwe’dactuallybefacing,”Viviwenton,andhegroaned,throwinguponehand.
“Andyouagreedtocomewithme!”
“Right,becauseapparentlyIdidn’tlearnmylessonabouttrustingyounineyearsago.”
Theystoodthere,staringatoneanother,andsuddenlyViviwantednothingmorethantobebackinherownbed,sittingin
herpajamasandcatchingupongrading,RhysPenhallownothingmorethanafaintmemoryofamisspentsummer.

ThenRhyssniffed,shrugginghisshoulders.“Fine,”hesaid.“Iam,asalways,afecklessidiotwhothrowshimselfintothings,
soletmegoaheadandfinishthrowingmyselfintothis,shallI?”

“Rhys,”shestarted,buthehadalreadyturnedaway,crouchingdownbythelinesonthefloor,hisarmsextended,andVivi
swallowedhard.

Thiswasforthebest.Hemightnotexactlybea“fecklessidiot,”buthe’dalwaysbereckless,alwaysleapwithoutlooking.
VivithoughtagainofGwyn’scardofhim.TheFool.Thecardofchancesandrisks.
AndGwynhadpaintedViviasTheStar—peace,serenity.Steadfastness.
SheandRhyshadbeendoomedfromthestart.
Atleastthistimetherewouldn’tbeanyscreamingorcrying.Theycouldgotheirseparateways,maybenotasfriends,but
atleastasadults,peoplewhoknewwhotheywereandwhattheywantedandwheretheybelonged.

Whichwasdefinitelynottogether.
Infrontofher,Rhysflexedhisfingers,andVivicouldfeelaslightchangeintheair.Whereithadbeencoldbefore,now
itfeltwarmer,likesomeonehadjustopenedanovendoornearby.

Vivi’shairblewbackslightlyfromherface,andRhysloweredhishead,hishandsstillheldoutoverthepulsingpurple
lines,hislipsmoving,butthehumofmagictooloudforVivitomakeoutanywords.

Underherfeet,thegroundgaveaslighttremor,andaflashoflightshotoutfromRhys’sfingers.
Vivishivered,wrappingherarmsaroundherself,herownmagictinglinginherveinsasshewatchedthelightracealongthe
riversofpurple.

Foramoment,thelinesonthefloorglowedevenbrighter,sobrightitalmosthurttolookatthem,andViviliftedherhand
toshieldhereyes.

Andthentherewasasuddencrack!,ashowerofpebblesrainingdownasRhysshottohisfeet.

Vivilookeddown.
Thelinesonthefloorwerestillpurple,buttheyweregrowingdarkernow,ablackcrustslowlyoozingalongthesides,blotting
outthecolor.

Thegroundwasstillshaking.
ShelookedatRhys,confused,asthetemperatureinthecaveplummetedagain,colderthistime,socolditalmosthurt,and
astheleylinesbegantowritheonthefloorlikesnakes,Rhysgrabbedherhand.

“Run!”
Shedidn’thavetobetoldtwice.
Theymadetheirwaythroughthenarrowpassagebacktothemaincave,thegroundstilltremblingunderneathherfeet,and
whileViviwatchedlinesofpurpleandblacksteamastheyhitthepoolsofwater.

WhensheandRhysranbackoutintothenight,theybothstoodandwatchedasthemagicracedpastthem.
TowardGravesGlen.
Theshakinghadstopped,andthenightwassuddenlyveryquietinthewakeofallthatchaos,theonlysoundtheoccasional
hootingofanowlandRhys’sandVivi’sraspingbreath.

Steppinginfrontofher,Rhysstaredoffdownthehill,shovingahandthroughhishair.“Thefuckwasthat?”hegasped,andthenturnedandlookedather.“Youmayhavehadapointaboutmenotbeingallthatclearastowhat
Iwasuptohere,butI’mprettysurethat”—hejabbedafingerinthedirectionofthestream—“wasamassivecock-up.”

Vivilookedupthestream,thenupatthesky,wherethemoonseemedevenbiggerandbrighternow,rememberingthatnightwithGwyn,thesamemoon,thecandleflameshootinghigh,andacoldsortofweightsettledinherchest.
Rhiannon’stits.
“So,um.Rhys.”
Heturnedandfacedher,hiseyesstillwide,hischeststillheaving,andViviofferedupashakysmile.
“Funnystoryforyou.”Chapter10
She’dfuckingcursedhim.
AsVivispedbacktowardGravesGlen,Rhyssatinthepassengerseat,staringoutintothedark,stilltryingtowraphis
mindaroundit.

“Soyoutookabath,”hesaidslowly,andnexttohim,Vivimadeafrustratedsound.
“Itoldyou,”shesaid.“Itookabath,litsomecandles,andthenGwynandIsaidawholebunchofsillystuffaboutyour
hairandclitorisesthatwasobviouslynotarealcurse—yourhairlooksreallygood,bytheway,andIdon’tactuallywant
toknowabouttherestofit—butatonepoint,therewas,like,thiswhooshofflame,andImighthavesaid,‘Icurseyou,
RhysPenhallow,’butIdidn’tmeanit.”

Vivi’shandsweregrippedtightaroundthewheel,hereyeswide,andRhyslookedather.“You…literallysaid,‘Icurse
you,RhysPenhallow,’andnowyou’resurprisedthatI,RhysPenhallow,amcursed?Also,I’msorry,whatwasthataboutclitorises?”

Vivirolledhereyesassheturnedbackontothehighway.“Thepointis,wewerejustbeingdrunkandstupid.Noattemptatactualmagicwasbeingmade.”
“Andyetactualmagichasbeendone,”Rhysmuttered,settlingbackintohisseat.
Hisskinstillitchedfromtheaftereffectsofchargingthelines,fingerstingling,andtherewasastrangecoldsensation
atthebackofhisneck.Wasthatnormal,orwasitpartofwhateverhadjustgonesospectacularlywrongbackthere?

Narrowinghiseyes,Rhyspeeredintothedarknessasthoughhemightbeabletoseethatracingsparkofmagicstillmaking
itswaydownthemountain.Allhecouldsee,though,wastheribbonofroadunfurlinginfrontofthem,andforasecond,
justthebarestofmoments,Rhyslethimselfbelievethatnothingbadhadactuallyhappened.Hisfatherhadseemedsoconfident
hehadn’tbeencursed,afterall,andwhenwasSimonPenhalloweverwrong?Maybethisiswhatitwasalwayslike,charging
thelines.

AndthenVivi’sphonerang.
Sang,actually.TheEagles’“WitchyWoman”wailedfromVivi’spurse,shovedbetweenthefrontseats,andVivibarelyglanced
atit,herfingerstighteningonthesteeringwheel.

“Gwyn,”shesaid,butdidn’treachforherbag.“It’sprobablynothing.”
“Nodoubt,”Rhyssaid,hopingmorethanhe’deverhopedforanythinginhislifethatshewasright.
“Wantingyoutopickuppizzaandcheeseburgersfordinner,”headded,andVivilookedoverathim.
“What?”heaskedtoherlook,shrugging.“America.”
Thephonewentsilent,andRhyssensedthatViviwasholdingherbreath.
Fuck,hewasholdinghis
Andthenthesongstartedupagain.
Fumblinginherbag,Vivipulledoutherphone,slidingathumbacrossthescreen,andbeforesheevenhadthephoneupto
herear,Rhyscouldhearchaos.Peopleshouting,someonescreaming,andGwynyellingVivi’sname,andRhyssankbackinhis
seat,coveringhiseyeswithonehand.

“Gwyn,calmdown!”Viviwassaying.“Ican’tunderstandyou—”
Thephonewasfirmlypressedagainstherearnow,andRhyswatchedher,actuallysawtheblooddrainfromherfaceasshe
said,“We’llbethereintwominutes.”

Sheletthephoneslidefrombetweenhercheekandhershoulder,andgrippedthewheeleventighter.
“Whatisit?”Rhysasked,butVivionlyshookherheadandsaid,“Yourseatbeltisbuckled,right?”
“Obviously,I’mnotanidiot,Vivienne,”hesaid,sittingupslightlyonlytoimmediatelybethrownbackagainsthisseat
asVivipressedthegaspedaltothefloor.

“Thatbad,then?”heaskedgrimly.
Viviwasequallygrimassheanswered,“Worse.”
ViviennehadnotexaggeratedthespeedwithwhichtheygotbacktoGravesGlen.ByRhys’scount,itwasonlyninety-somethingsecondsafterGwyn’sphonecallthattheywerepullingupinfrontofSomethingWicked.
Viviennebarelyputthecarinparkbeforerushingoutontothesidewalk.
Rhyswasalittleslower,hishandrestingonthetopoftheopencardoorashetriedtotakeinwhatwashappeninginthe
frontwindowoftheshop.

HespottedGwyneasilyenough,standingontopofthecounter,abroomraisedinherhands,andthereinthebackcornerwas
atrioofgirls,croucheddownagainstthewall,theirfacespale,theireyeshuge.

AndalloverthefloorbetweenthemandGwynwere…skulls.
Smallones,aboutthesizeofabaseball.
Viviennewasalreadyintheshop,andhesawherpullupshortwithashriekasalltheskullsturnedtowardheralmostas
one,theirmouthsopeningandclosing.

RhysheardGwynshoutsomething,buthewasalreadymovingintotheshop,thatabsurdravencroakingathimashethrewthe
dooropen.

Magiclayheavilyovertheshop,sothickitmadehisteethache,hisskinhummingwithitspower,buttherewassomething
underneathallthatpower.Somethingdarkandrank,apowerfulsenseofwrongnesshangingoverthewholeshop.

Rhyshadneverfeltanythinglikeitbefore.
Theskullsskitteredacrossthefloor,theirjawsopeningandclosingandpropellingthemaroundthehardwoodatasurprisingspeed.Theeyeswerelitup,too,butinsteadofthepurpleRhysrememberedfromearlier,theywererednow,brightred,andthereweresobloodymanyofthem.
Somethingthumpedagainsthisankle,andRhyslookeddowntoseeoneoftheplasticskullsgrinningupathim.
“Steadyon,mate,”hemuttered,wonderingifhewastalkingtotheskullortohimself.
Andthentheskull’steethclosedaroundthelegofhispants.
Rhyswasnotproudofthesoundthatcameoutofhismouthashejerkedhislegback,kickingoutinanattemptatflinging
thethingoff.

Whenthatdidn’twork,hedidn’teventhink.Hepulledathreadofmagicupfromthesolesofhisfeettothetipsofhis
fingersandblastedthedamnthingtolittleplasticconfetti.

“Rhys!”
HelookedovertoseeViviennestillstandingwithhercousin,armednowwithoneoftheheavycrystalballshe’dspotted
earlier.

Shewasglaringathim,andthengaveasignificantlooktothegroupoftouristshuddledinthecorner,nowwatchinghim
withwideeyes,andRhysjustbarelykeptfromscoffingashereplied,“WhatwasImeanttodo,Vivienne?”

Therewasasingedsmell,theslightesthintofburninghair,andRhyssawhe’dburnedaholeinhistrousers—andnearlyhis
leg—withthatlittlespell.Cursing,hepattedatthesmolderingholeevenashekickedanotherofthelittleplasticbastards
awayfromhim.

“Fuckingridiculous,”hemuttered,stompingononeoftheskulls,thenanother,beforeholdingouthishandtoGwyn.
“Thebroom,”hecalled,andshetossedittohim.
Catchingiteasily,Rhysswungthebroombackdowntowardthefloorand,inwhatwasperhapsoneofthemostsatisfyingmoments
ofhislife,swepttheskullsdirectlyinfrontofhiminawidearctowardthewall.

Noneofthembroke,buttheyskittereddrunkenly,bumpingintoeachother,spinningaround,andRhyskeptmovingforward,
sweepingthebroombackandforth,clearingapathtothethreegirlsinthecorner.

“Ladies,”hesaidwithasmilewhenhereachedthem,“hopefullywe’vealllearnedavaluablelessonaboutorderingthings
offdodgywebsites!”

Hekeptgrinningatthemevenastheystaredathim.Hesawoneglancedownattheholeinhispants,anddirectingthemto
followhimsaid,“LuckythingIhadalighteronme.”

Giventhathewascurrentlycursed,Rhysknewusingmagiconthemwasdangerous,butcharm,he’dfound,wasasortofspell
allitsown.Ashemovedthegirlstowardthedoor,sweepingskullsallthewhile,hekeptupasortofinanechatterabout
checkingthebatteriesinthingsbeforeyouputthemoutonthestorefloor,onthestronglywordedemailhewasgoingto
writetothemanufacturerandonthediscountSomethingWickedwouldbesuretogivethemthenexttimetheycamein.

Bythetimehegotthemtothedoor,hewassickofhisownvoice,butthegirlsseemedlessfreakedout,oneofthemturningaroundtooffer,“IonceorderedaniPodofftheInternet,but,like,somerandomwebsite?NotApple?Andit,like,totallystartedsmokinginmypocket.”
“Evenso,”Rhyssaid,usheringthemoutontothesidewalk.“ThankyouforshoppingatSomethingWicked,pleasecomeagain!”
TheravenoverthedoorshriekedasRhysclosedthedoorwithadecisivebangandreacheduptopulldownthelittleshade
overthewindow.

Oncethedoorwasfirmlylocked,helookedoveratGwynandVivienne.
Gwynwasstillonthecounter,herhandsclosetogetherasagreenishlightsparkedbackandforthbetweenherfingers.
“Nicelydone,dickbag,”shesaid,andbeforeRhyscouldobjecttothat—whichhewantedto,vociferously—shenoddedatVivienne.
Noddingback,Viviennemovedtothefrontwindow,dodgingtheskullswithsurprisinggrace.
Donotnoticehowniceherlegslookasshe’ssteppingoverpossessedpiecesofplastic,youabsolutepervert,Rhysthoughttohimself,butitwasnouse.Viviennemayhavecursedhim,mayhavebeenthecauseofeverybadthingthat
hadhappenedtohimsincehesetfootinthistown,buthiscockhadclearlynotgottenthemessage.

Steppingtothewindow,Viviliftedonehand,whitelightglowingthere.Shewasusingmagictoclosethemassivevelvetdrapesbracketingtheshop’sfrontwindow,Rhysrealized,andbeforehecouldcalloutawarning,thelightjumpedfromherhandtothecurtain.
Andpromptlysetitonfire.
Vivienneshriekedasoneoftheskullssnappedatthetoeofhershoe,andRhyscrossedthestore,kickingtheskulleven
ashereachedupwiththebroominanattempttobatouttheflames.

Thesmellofburnedplasticfilledtheroomasthebristleskindled,andoutofthecornerofhiseyeRhyscouldmakeout
Gwyndirectinghermagictowardthewindow.

“Don’t!”heshouted,andtohisimmenserelief,hesawherdropherhands.
Hewasslightlylessrelievedtorealizetherewasnowasmallcrowdgrowingoutsidethewindow,whichwasverymuchopen
torevealboththeutterchaosinsideandallthemagictheyweredoingtotrytostopit.

Wonderful.
Allaroundthem,theskullswerestillmoving,jawsopeningandclosing,andRhysreachedforVivienne’shand.“Thestoreroom!”
heshoutedoverallthatchittering,andViviennenodded,takinghishand.

Uponthecounter,Gwynlookedfromthewindowtothepairofthem,thenbackagain.“Sowhat?”sheasked.“Wejusthidefrom
NightoftheLivingTchotchkesandhopeforthebest?”

“Doyouhaveabetteridea?”Vivienneasked,butbeforeGwyncouldreply,thedoortotheshopblewopen,slamminghardagainst
thewall.

Rhysturnedslightlytoseewhohadmanagedtocomein—hewassurehe’dlockedthedamnthing—butbeforehecould,therewasanearlydeafeningblastandaflashofbluelightthathadhimthrowinghisfreehandupagainsttheglare.
Whenheloweredit,hesawthattherewasnothingleftoftheskullssaveforafewstraypitsofsmokingplasticandone
redblinkingeyethatflashedoffandonafewmoretimesbeforeslowlydyingout.

Inthesilencethatfollowed,Rhyswasveryawareofthesmokyhazestilllingeringoverthestore,thescorchmarknowscarring
thefloorinfrontofhimandthefactthatViviennewasholdinghishand.

Helookedattheirinterlockedfingers,herpalmalmosthotagainsthis,andthenupatherface.Hercheekswerepink,eyes
wide,andwhenshesensedhimlookingather,hergazeshottotheirhands.

Flustered,shedroppedhers,steppingawayfromhimasherauntmovedfartherintothestore.
“What,”Vivienne’sauntsaid,herchestmovingupanddownwiththeforceofherbreathing,“haveyoutwodonenow?”Chapter11
Maybethosetoyskullsactuallykilledusandnowwe’reinhell,Vivithoughtasshesatinherfavoritechairinthestorageroom,thegoldenvelvetwingbackthatshe’dspentsomuchtime
in,therewasprobablyanimpressionofherbuttinthecushion.

Itseemedlikeagoodexplanationforwhyshewasstuckinthisnightthatwouldn’tend.FirstthecaveswithRhys,thenthat
nightmarehereatthestoreandnow,despitebeingnearlythirtyyearsold,shehadtoexplaintoAuntElainethatshe’dbroken
oneofthemostsacredrulesofwitchcraftbecauseaguyhurtherfeelings.

Andthatguywascurrentlyhere
“Itwasanaccident,”shesaidagainforwhatfeltlikethetwentiethtimethisevening.“Wewerejust…beingsilly.”
“Thereisnobeingsillywithmagic,”AuntElainesaid,assternasVivihadeverheardher.Shewasstandinginfrontofoneofthewardrobes,herarmsfoldedoverherchest,herhairpulledbackfromherface.Severalearringssparkledinherleftear,alongstrandofsilverdanglingfromtheright,andshelookedeveryinchthepowerfulwitchsheactuallywas.“AsItoldbothofyou,constantly,”ElainewentonbeforewalkingovertothewardrobeandpullingoutaT-shirt.
“Whatdoesthissay?”sheasked,shakingit,andVivisawGwynrollhereyesfromherownspot,sittingcrossed-leggedon
oneofthetrunks.

“Mom,”Gwynstarted,andElaineraisedahand.“Oh,youwillnotbe‘Mom-ing’me,younglady.”
Rhys,who’dbeenuncharacteristicallyquietsincethey’dallretiredbackhere,walkeduptoElaineandtooktheT-shirtfrom
her.

“‘Nevermixwitchcraftwithvodka,’”heread,thennodded.“Solidadvice,that.”
“Okay,no,”Gwynsaid,standingupfromthetrunk.Hermascarawassmudgedandtherewasaruninhertights,butotherthan
that,shedidn’tseemthatmuchworseforwear,givenwhathadhappenedtonight.“Youdon’tgetasayinanyofthis.This
isallyourfault.”

“BecauseIdidthecurse?”Rhysasked,raisingoneeyebrowashetossedtheshirtbacktoElaine.“Isthatwhyit’smyfault?”
Handsonherhips,GwynfacedoffwithRhys.“Becauseit’syourfaultwehadtocurseyouinthefirstplace.Ifyouhadn’t
shatteredVivi’sheart—”

“Ididn’tshatteranything,”Rhysscoffed,andVivi’sheartspedupasshewatchedhimpause,thinkingitover.

Thenhelookedatherwiththoseblueeyesandasked,“Vivienne…didIshatteryourheart?”

Nownotjustthenightthatwouldneverend,butpossiblyoneoftheworstnightsofherlife.

“Youdidn’t,”shesaid,desperatetosavesomekindoffacehere.
AndmaybeshecouldhavehadGwynnotexisted.
GapingatVivi,Gwynsaid,“Um,heverymuchdid.Rememberallthecrying?Thebath?Youkeptconjuringupthesmellofhis
cologne,forfuck’ssake.”

Vivi’sfaceflamedredandshesunkfartherintoherchair.“Ididnotdothat,”shemutteredevenasRhysstaredatherin
obviousshock.

“Youcalledmea‘fuckerneck,’whichisnotevenaword,”heremindedher.“Youthrewmyownpantsatme.Youweren’tbrokenhearted,
youwereangry.”

“Right,becausenowomanhaseverbeenboththosethingsatthesametime,”Gwynsaid,andVivifinallystood,scrubbingher
handsoverherface.

“WouldeveryonestopactinglikeIwasthistragic,lovelornvictim?Iwasadrunkteenagergoofingaroundwithmyequally
drunkcousin.Thiswasnotthatbigofadeal.”Shepaused,thenrolledhereyes.“Okay,sothispartofithasturnedouttobeabigdeal,butImeantheactualcursingbit.Thatwasnotmeanttobeabigdeal,andyou’reallbeingridiculousaboutit.”

ShepointedatRhys.“Doyoureallywanttotellmeyoudidn’tdosomethingoverlydramaticandstupidasateenager?”
“‘Overlydramaticandstupid’describesmyentireteenagecareer,sono.”
“Gwyn?”sheasked,turningtofacehercousin.
Screwingupherface,Gwynsaid,“Girl,youlivedwithmewhenIwasateenager.Youknow.”
Nodding,VivifacedAuntElaine,whocontinuedtofrownatherforabeatonlytofinallythrowupherhandsandsay,“Iknow
you’rejustgoingtomentionthewholethingwithLedZeppelin,solet’sjustskipitandadmitwe’vealldonestupidthings
inourpasts,andleaveVivialoneabouthermotivation.”

“Thankyou,”Vivisaid.“Nowthatweallagreethatthewhydoesnotmatter,theissueisthewhat.Namely,whatthiscursemightmeanforGravesGlen.”

Sighing,Elainereachedupandtuggedatherearring.“Iassumethecursespreadtotheleylines,”shesaid,“andgiventhat
theleylinesfuelallthemagicintown,thatmagicisnow…corrupted.”

Henceevilplasticskulls,andwhileVivipridedherselfonbeingoptimistic,shewasn’tnaiveenoughtothinkthatwasgoing
tobethelimitofthisdisaster.Whoknewwhatotherthingsthecursedleylinesmightunleash?

“Ineedtotalktomyfather,”Rhyssaidasheleanedagainstthewardrobe,tossingoneoftheskullsthathadsurvivedElaine’s
spellbackandforthinhishands.Everytimeitsteethclackedtogether,Vivifeltherskincrawl.Toobadthey’dneverbe
abletosellthosethingsagainbecausetheyreallyhadbeenpopular.Butrevisitinganightmarewasnotworththeoccasional
extrafivebucks,inVivi’sopinion.

“Doyouwantmetogetthemirror?”sheaskedRhys,andheraisedhishead,startled.
“IsaidIneedtotalktohim,notthatI’mactuallygoingtodoit.”Rhysshuddered.“Thisnighthasbeenhorribleenoughalready.”

“Simonwillneedtobetold,”AuntElainesaidonasigh,sinkingintothechairVivihadjustvacated.“AndIdon’tlook
forwardtohisreaction.”

“Whatcanhedo?”Gwynasked.“Imean,otherthanbeadickaboutit.”
Pushingoffthewardrobe,Rhysgaveahumorlesslaugh.“Ah,thetimesI’veaskedmyself,‘Whatcanmyfatherdoaboutsomething
otherthanbeadick,’onlytofindouthecandoplenty.”

Vivihadalreadybeenworried—battlingabunchoftoyscometolifehadthateffectonagirl—butnowshefeltherheartplunge
somewheresouthofherknees.

Rhys’sfather.
“Isyourdadgoingtocomehere,”sheaskedRhys,“and,like,smiteus?”
ThecornerofRhys’smouthliftedjustthelittlestbit.“Honestly,withmostpeople,I’dmakefunoftheword‘smite’here,
butinmyfather’scase…”

Thesmilefaded,andVivi’shopeswentwithit.ShethoughtofthetarotcardGwynhaddrawn,AuntElaine’scabinasTheTower,
crackedintwoandslidingoffthesideofthemountain.

Whatifthathadbeensomekindofprophecy?
“You’returninggreen,”Gwynsaid,crossingtheroomtostandinfrontofVivi.
“We’regonnafixthis,”shesaid,layingherhandsonVivi’sshouldersandgivingashake.“We’rebadasswitches,remember?”
“You’reabadasswitch,”Viviremindedher.“AuntElaineisabadasswitch.I’mahistoryteacher.”
“Youcanbeboth.”Gwyn’shandstightened.“Andthisisn’tyourfault.Itwasmyideatocursehim,remember?”
“Butitwasmymagicthatdidit,”Vivireplied,rememberingthatcandleflame,howthewordscomingoutofhermouthhad
feltdifferent.Heavier.Charged,somehow.

Theonetrulypowerfulspellshe’devermanaged,anditwasgoingtowreckeverythingforher.
Classic.
“IfI,asthecursedparty,mightinterjecthere,”Rhyssaid,shovinghishandsinhispockets,“isn’titpossiblewemight
allbeoverreactingalittle?Yes,tonightwasshit,nogettingaroundthat.Yes,we’reallabitfreakedoutandunderstandably
so,butsofar,theselittlebuggers”—henoddedattheskullhe’dtossedtothechair—“aretheonlythingwe’vedealtwith.”

“Thatandmysimple‘hey,closethedrapes’spellendinginfire,”Viviremindedhim,andheshrugged.
“Yousaidyourself,yourmagichasalwaysbeenabit…whatwastheword?Wonky?”
“Well,mineisverymuchunwonky,”AuntElainesaid,handsonherhips.“AndthatspellIusedtoclearthestorewasfar
morepowerfulthanIintended.”

Rhysnodded.“Allvalidpoints.Butmaybenotenoughevidencetosaythingshavegonecompletelytitsupyet,beggingyourpardon,Ms.Jones.”
“Ihavetits,soIthinkIcanhandlehearingthewordspoken,Mr.Penhallow,”AuntElainesaidwithadismissivewavebefore
sighingandsteeplingherfingersagainsthermouth.

Neveragoodsign.ThelasttimeVivihadseenthatgesturefromAuntElainehadbeenthetimeGwynhadbrieflygottenengaged
totheguywhoreadfortunesattheRenFaireandcalledhimself“LordFalcon”despitehisdriver’slicensesaying“TimDavis.”

ButnowAuntElaineonlytookanotherdeepbreathandsaid,“Ithinkyoumayberight.Maybethisisn’tasbadasitseems.”
“Itseemsprettybad,Mom,”Gwynsaid,frowning.“Speakingassomeonenearlyeatenbyplastic.”
“No,Rhyshasapoint,”Vivisaid,surprisingherself.AndRhys,too,ifhisraisedeyebrowswereanythingtogoby.
“Wedon’tknowhowbadthisis,orifitwasjustsomeweirdlittlespike.Andwhateveritis,we’renotgoingtofixittonight.”
Themoreshetalked,thebettershefelt.Ofcourse,whattheyneededwasaplan
Viviwasreallygoodatplans.
“Look,we’llallgohome,getsomesleep,andinthemorning,we’llseewhatthingslooklike.Rhys,you’lltalktoyourfather.”
Hescowled,butdidn’tdisagree,soViviwenton,pointingatElaine,“Andyou’llseewhatyoucanfindaboutremovingcurses,andyou”—sheturnedtoGwyn—“will…justkeeprunningthestoreandassuringpeoplethattonight’slittleshowwasallpartoftheFounder’sDayfun.”
“Ilikehowmyjobistheonlyonewithanyrealthreatofdanger,”Gwynsaid,butoffVivi’slook,sheliftedherhandsin
defeat.“Okay,okay,OperationSoothetheMuggles,I’monit.”

“Good,”Vivisaid.“Sothat’sit.Wehaveaplan.A…kindofhalf-assone,butaplannonetheless.”
“Quarter-ass,ifyouaskme,”Rhysmutteredbutthennoddedather.“Butcertainlybetterthannothing.”
Glancingaroundhim,hesighed.“AndatleastI’llgettoreacquaintmyselfwithGravesGlenafterallthistime.”
WhenVivionlystaredathim,headded,“Imean…it’snotasifIcangohomeuntilallthisisover.”
Hewasright.Sheknewthat.OfcoursegettingthissortedoutmeantthatRhyswouldstayhere.
Inhertown.
Workingwithher.
Hesmiledatherthen,winking,anddespiteallofit,thecurse,theembarrassment,thefreakingtinyplasticskullsofdeath,Vivi’sheartdidaneatlittleflipinherchest.

Yep,definitelyinhell.Chapter12
ViviwokeuptofindSirPurrcivalstaringather.
Thatwasn’tallthatunusual—he’dalwayslikedtofindwhoeverthelastpersoninbedwasinthemorningsandsnugglein,
andsinceGwynandAuntElainewerebothearlyrisers,thathadalmostalwaysbeenVivibackwhenshe’dlivedhere.

Whatwasunusualwasthatheblinkedhisyellow-greeneyesather,yawnedandthensaid,“Treats.”
NowitwasVivi’sturntoblink.
“Dreaming,”shemutteredtoherself.Lastnighthadbeenawfullytraumatic,afterall.Madesenseshe’dhaveareallyvivid,
reallybizarredreamthatfeltrealbutwasn’t.

“Treats,”SirPurrcivalsaidagain,buttinghisheadagainstVivi’sarm,andokay,no,thiswasreal.

Theyhadatalkingcat.
“Gwyn!”Vivicalled,scootingbackalittlebitinherbed,andSirPurrcivalcontinuedtopaceandturnincircles,aconstant
refrainof“Treats,treats,treats!”spillingfromhiswhiskeredlips.

Viviheardfootstepsonthestairs,andthenGwynwasthere,stillinherpajamas,herhairpushedbackfromherfacewithabrightlycoloredheadband.
“Whatisit?”Gwynasked,andVivinoddedatSirPurrcival.
“Hetalksnow.”
Gwynblinkedather,thenlookedbacktoSirPurrcivalbeforegivingashriekofdelightandclappingherhands.“Hedoes?”
Rushingintotheroom,shescoopeduphercat,holdinghiminfrontofherface.“Whatdidhesay?”sheasked.“BecauseI’ve
alwayswantedatalkingcat,andIthinkifanycatisgoingtobeastimulatingconversationalist,it’s—”

“Treeeeaaaaaats,”SirPurrcivalcroakedagain,andthenbeganwigglinginGwyn’sarms.“Treatstreatstreatstreatsfoodtreats.”
“Hemostlysaysthat,”Vivisaid,pushingbackthecovers,andGwynfrownedathercat.
“Okay,butmaybeoncehegetstreatshe’llhavemoretosay.”Withthat,shesethimbackonthebedandrushedoutofthe
room,returningafewsecondslaterwiththebagofcattreats.Shakingoutafewinherhand,sheofferedthemtoSirPurrcival,
whogobbledthemup.“Nowsay‘thankyou,’buddy,”Gwyncoached.

Purrcivallickedhischopsandheadbuttedherhand.“Treatstreatstreats,”hebeganagain.

“Ithinkmaybethat’sallhecansay?”Vivioffered.
“TreatstreatstreatsTREATSTREATSTREATS!”
“Ichangedmymind,”Gwynsaid,scramblingtogivePurrcivalmoretreats.“Talkingcatsarebad.Iseethatnow.”
ThenshelookedupatVivi,whowasgettingoutofbed.“ThisisbecauseofwhatRhysdidtotheleylines,isn’tit?Liketheskullslastnight.”
“It’sbecauseofwhatIdidtoRhys,”Vivicorrectedonasigh,hereyesfallingontheduffelbagshe’dhastilypackedatherplacelastnight.
Shecouldn’tquitesaywhyshe’ddecidedtospendthenightatElaine’s,justthattheideaofgoingtosleepinherapartment
abovethestorehaddefinitelynotappealed.Now,asGwynmutteredtoPurrcival,Vivitookouttheskirtandblouseshe’d
delicatelyfoldedintoherbaglastnight.

“Whichmeansthatwewereright—there’salotmorebadshittocome.”
GwynshotheralookasshetuckedPurrcivalunderneathherchin.“Thisisnotbadshit,”sheargued,then,whenPurrcival
continuedtoaskfortreats,shrugged.“Okay,it’snotthebestshit,butIstilldon’tthinkit’sevidenceofahorriblecurse.”

ShegaveVivianothersmilebeforecarryingPurrcivaltothedoor.“Itoldyou,Vivi.We’regonnafixthis.”
Viviwishedshefeltthatconfident.
Shealsowishedshedidn’tfeelsodamn…embarrassedaboutthewholething.Becausethat’swhathadkeptherawakelast
night,staringattheceilinguntilwellpasttwointhemorning.Therewasguiltandfearandworry,ofcourse,allthat
wasmixedupinthere,butoverridingallofitwas,Rhysknowshebrokemyheart.
Notonlythat,Rhysknewhe’dbrokenitsobadlythatshe’ddonemagicoverit.

Andclearlyhehadn’tfeltthesamewaybackthensinceithadneverevenoccurredtohimthatshe’dactuallybeenthatsadoverit.
Whichproved,asshe’dalwayssuspected,theirflinghadmeantalotmoretoherthanithadtohim.He’dprobablybarely
thoughtofheroverthepastnineyears,hadcertainlynevergoogledherwhilekindofwine-drunk,andwhiletherewasno
doubttheywerestillattractedtoeachother,Viviwasoldernow.

Wiser.
AndthelastthingshewasgoingtodowasfallforRhysPenhallowalloveragain.
Fifteenminuteslater,shewasheadingdownstairs,herstill-damphairtwistedupinabun,herjackethangingoffhershoulders,
andshewassofocusedongettingoutthedoorthatittookherasecondtorealizesheheardvoicesinthekitchen.

Andnotjustanyvoices.
Turningthecorner,shelookedatheraunt’scozykitchentable,thetablearoundwhichshe’dmadecandlesandpluckedflower
petalsforbathsaltsandnever,evereatenbreakfast,andtherewasRhys,coffeemugathiselbow,stickybuninhand,smilingatheraunt.

Whowassmilingbackalmost…affectionately.Indulgently.
AndthenVivirealizedthekitchendidn’tsmelllikeitsusualmixofherbsandsmoke,butofsugarandcinnamon.
“AuntElaine,”sheasked,firmlyignoringRhys,“didyou…bake?”

Heraunt’scheeksactuallyturnedalittlepink.“Youdon’thavetosoundsoscandalized,Vivi,”shesaid,wavingonehandasshegotupfromthetableandcrossedthekitchentothecoffeepot.“Icancook,youknow.I’vejustusuallychosennotto.”

“Whichisacrimeandasin,”Rhyssaid,lickingastraybitoficingoffhisthumb,agesturethatmadeVivi’sownfacesuddenly
feelalittlepink.Howdidhelooksogoodafterthenightthey’dallhad?Vivifeltlikethecirclesunderhereyesdeserved
theirownzipcode,andwhensheglanceddown,shenoticedthatherblousewasmisbuttoned.Andtherehesat,wearingdark
jeansandacharcoalsweater,hishairstillverymuchdoingTheThingdespitethecursethatwasevidentlyreal,andfor
justasecond,Vivigavesomeseriousthoughttocursinghimagain.

Instead,shealsomadeherwaytothecoffeepot,grabbingamugfromtheshelfaboveit.Itwasoneoftheonestheysold
intheshop,whitewithapurplesilhouetteofawitchzoomingawayonabroomstick,thewordsLife’saWitch,ThenYouFly!incurlingscriptbelowtherim.

“Whatareyoudoinghere,Rhys?”sheaskedonceshewasalittlemorecaffeinated.Shewantedtoresistthestickybunson
principle,buttheysmelledtoogoodtopassup,soVivigrabbedonestillwarmfromthepan,carefulnottoletitdripon
herskirtasshesatatthetable.

Leaningback,Rhysfoldedhishandsonhisstomachandstudiedher.“Well,Vivienne,Idon’tknowifyouremember,butit
turnsoutIwashorriblycursed,so…”

Rollinghereyes,Viviheldupthehandstillholdingthestickybun.“Yes,Iknow,wecanskipthesarcasm.Imean,whyareyouinmyaunt’skitchenrightnow?”
“We’relookingintocurses,”AuntElainesaid,rejoiningthematthetable.Shenoddedtowardayellowlegalpadandalarge
openbookVivihadsomehowmissed,andnowVivilickedherownfingersbeforereachingoverforit.

Thebookwasheavy,thebindingancientandcracked,andVivicouldbarelymakeoutthelettersstampedingoldfoilonits
spine.Andevenonceshecould,theydidn’tspellanywordssherecognized.

“Iguessit’stoomuchtohopethattherewasareallyclearandeasy-to-doanti-curseritualinthis,huh?”Viviasked,carefully
turningthepages.Thepaperwassothickthatitcrackledslightly,theillustrationspaintedandlurid.

Vivipausedononethatshowedamanhangingfromatreebranchbyhisankles,allhisinsidesontheoutside.
“Ew,”shemuttered,andsuddenlyRhyswasthere,leaningoverhershouldertolook.
“Ah,yes,the‘TrialofGhent,’”hesaid.“Wehadanancestorthatattemptedthat.Didn’tendwell.Youbasicallytakeyour
ownentrailsoutandthen—”

“Donotwanttoknow,”Vivisaid,quicklyturningthepageandalsotryingtoignorehowgoodRhyssmelled.
You’renotallowedtofeelturnedonwhentheword“entrails”wasjustbandiedabout,shetoldherself.

“Sofar,wehaven’thadmuchluck,”Elainesaid,“butonebrightspot.ThankstoRhysusinghismagictofueltheleylines,mostofthecursehasprobablydrainedoffofhim.”
Shetappedthecoverofanotherbook.“Thelawoftransmutation.Rhyswascursed,butinfunnelinghismagicintoanother
powersource—”

“Ipassedonsomeofthecursetotheleylinesinstead,”Rhysfinished.“Sostillcursed,butdiluted.Maybe.Halfofthat
particularpagewasrippedout,sowe’rereallyjustspitballinghere.”

“Great,”Vivirepliedweakly.AnditwasgreatthatmaybeRhyscouldwalkthroughtownwithoutbeingadisastermagnet,but
shestillfeltguiltsittinglikearockinherstomach.

“Onequestion,”Gwynsaid,comingintothekitchen.Shewasstillinherpajamas,herlongredhairinabraidoveroneshoulder.
“Onlyone?”Viviasked,eyebrowsraised.
“Okay,lots,butoneforrightnow.”ShepointedatRhys.“Hishair.It’sstilldoingTheThing.Andit’sbeendoingTheThing
eversincehegotintotown.”

Rhysfrowned,reachinguptotugathishair.“Whatthing?”
“Oh,likeyoudon’tknow,”Gwynsaid,andRhys’sfrowndeepened.
“Seriously,what—”
AuntElainestoppedthembothwithaliftedhand.“ItakeitthetwoofyouspecifiedsomethingaboutRhys’shairduringthe
curse?”

NowRhys’shanddroppedfromhisheadandhestaredatGwynandVivi.“Youtriedtoattackmyhair?”

“Cursemagicdoesn’tworklikethat,”AuntElainewenton,ignoringhim.“You’llgetgeneralbadluckor,ifyougoreallydark,death.Butnothingthatsmallorspecific.”
“Good,”Gwynsaid.“Nowwedon’thavetofeelguiltyabouttheclitoristhinganymore.”
“Treeeeaaaaats.”
Oh,thankthegoddess.
VivilookeduptowhereSirPurrcivalhadjuststrolledintothekitchen,twininghimselfaroundElaine’sanklesasshestared
athim.

“Oh,right,”Vivisaid,shuttingthebook.“Um.Hetalksnow.Buthemostlyjustsaysthat.”
ElaineandRhysbothtookthatinbeforeRhysnoddedandsaid,“Right.Ofcoursehedoes.”
Reachingdowntopetthecat,ElainelookedoveratVivi.
“Whyareyoualldressedup?”sheasked,andVivilookeddownherbody,frowning,too.
“I’mnot,”shesaid.“I’mjustgoingtowork.”
“Atthecollege?”AuntElaine’seyebrowsdisappearedbeneathhershaggybangs.“Today?”
“Yes,today,”Vivisaid,standingupandstraighteningherjacket.“Whywouldn’tI?”
“Wehaveimportantthingstodotoday.”AuntElaineplacedonehandonherhip,theotherholdingawoodenspoon.“Witchbusiness.”
“AndIhaveaninea.m.class,”Vivicountered.“WhichIcan’tjustcancel.Wetalkedaboutthislastnight.”

“WetalkedaboutGwynreopeningthestoreasthougheverythingwerenormal,”Elainecountered,“notaboutyougoingtoteachclass.This”—shetappedthebookinfrontofher—“ismoreimportantrightnow.”
“Icandoboth,”Vivisaid,standingup.“Penhavenisalsoawitchycollege,remember?Icanteachclass,thengotothelibrary,
seeifthereareanymoreusefulbooksthere.”

Sheonlybarelymanagedtokeepfromfrowningasshesaidit.Vivihadworkedhardtokeepherworklifeandherwitchlife
separate,whichmeantsheveryrarelydealtwithanythinginvolvingPenhaven’smoresecretiveclasses.Butwhenyouhada
witchyproblem,itseemedstupidnottousethatresource.

Evenifthatresourcetendedtosmelllikepatchouli.
Rhyswasalreadygrabbinghisownjacketfromthebackofhischair.“I’llcomewith.”
Vivistared.“Tothecollege?”
Hegaveashrug.“Whynot?Iamanalum,afterall.”
“Youcameforonesummercourse,whichIdon’tthinkyouactuallyattendedmorethan,what?Fiveclassesof?”
Rhyswinkedather.“Andwhosefaultwasthat?”
Okay,theywereheadingintodangerousterritorynow,andViviturnedawaytopullherkeysoutofherpurse,breakingeye
contactbeforeshedidsomethingembarrassinglikeblush.

Again.
“Besides,”Rhyssaid,“it’sclearlynotsafeformetobeoutonmyownnow,allcursedandwhathaveyou,somightaswell
stickclosetotheonethatdidthecursing.”

“Iamneverlivingthisdown,amI?”
“It’scertainlygoingtobethesubjectofconversationforawhile,yes.”
Vivilookedupathimthen,scowling,andwasabouttoremindhimthattherewouldn’tevenbeacursehadhenotbeensuchanassholenineyearsago,butbeforeshecould,shenoticedtheshadowsunderneathhisown
eyes,thetensioninhissmileevenasheattemptedtogiveherhisusualrakishgrin.Ashorribleasitsounded,thatwas
actuallykindofcomforting,knowingthatRhyswasfreakedoutaboutthis.

Allthisquippinessandpastryeatingwerejustacover.
Hadhealwaysdonethat?
Shecouldn’tremember.
Ofcourse,she’donlyknownhimforafewmonthsnearlyadecadeago.Weirdtothinkthatsomeonewhohadloomedsolarge
overherromanticlifeforsolongwasbasicallyastranger.

Shakingoffthatthought,Vivisteppedbackfromhim.“Fine.Comewith.I’llgoteach,andyoucangocheckouttheSpecial
Collectionsatthecollegelibrary.”

“Isthataeuphemism?”Rhysasked.“Ireallyhopeit’saeuphemism.”
“Nope,”Vivireplied,alreadypullingoutherphonetosendanemailtothedirectorofPenhaven’slibrary.“It’sexactly
whatitsoundslike.”
Chapter13
PenhavenCollegewassmallerthanRhysremembered.
And,asheandVivimadetheirwayacrosscampus,itdawnedonhimthatitwasverystrangeaplacenamedafterhisgloomy
anddepressinghomecouldbethislight,thischeerful,allredbrickbuildingswithwhitetrim,brightlawnsandautumnleaves
inboldcolorseverywherehelooked.

“Niceplacetowork,”hecommentedtoVivienne,whowasabouttwostepsaheadofhim,herlowheelsclickingonthebrick
walkway.

“Itis,”shereplied,butshewasobviouslydistracted,lookingaroundwiththesequick,dartingglances,andRhysjogged
alittletocatchupwithher.

“Whatisit?”heaskedinalowvoice.“Somethingamiss?”
Sheshookherhead.“No,nothingIcanseerightnow,but…”
“Butyou’rekeepinganeyeout.”
“Exactly.”
Rhyslookedaround,too,althoughhewasn’tsurewhathewaslookingfor.Therewerenostatuestofallonhim,nocarstosuddenlycomecareeninghisway.Butwhowastosayasuddensinkholewouldn’topenupinthegroundorthatastraytreelimbmightnotcomewingingdownfromtheheavens?
Thesoonertheygotthisfixed,thebetter.
Besides,oncehewasn’tcursedanymore,maybehewouldstopfeelinglikesuchanutterbastard.
HeknewViviennehadbeenangrywithhim,furiouseven,andhe’ddeservedeverybitofit.Butthathe’dhurtherbadlyenough
thatshe’ddonethis…

Fuck,thatbotheredhim.
Therewasasetofconcretestepsjustaheadofthem,leadingdowntoawhitebuildingatthebaseofthesmallhill,and
Viviennestoppedjustonthetopstep,turningbacktolookathim.

“Becareful.”
“With…fivesteps?”
Shescowled,onehandonherhip.“DoIneedtoremindyouofwhat’sgoingon?”
“Youdon’t,”heassuredher,“butyouheardwhatElainesaid.Thecurseisalmostcertainlydoingitsthingonthetownnow,
notme,andbesides,doyoureallythinkthesestepsaregoingtotakemeout?DoyouwanttoholdmyhandasIwalkdown
them?”

Viviennemutteredsomethingunderherbreath,thenturnedandwalkeddownthesteps,leavingRhystofollow.
Carefully.
Rhysdidn’tknowwhathe’dexpectedVivienne’sofficetolooklike,butashefollowedherdownthehallofthebrightandairybuildingthathousedthehistorydepartment,itoccurredtohimthathehadn’texactlygivenahugeamountofthoughttoanythingwhenitcametoAdultVivienne.
Itwasalmostlikeshewasfrozeninhismemoryatnineteen,butnowhereshewas,agrownwomanwithanofficeandacareer,
andhesuddenly,desperately,wantedtoknoweverythingabouther.

“Whyhistory?”heaskedastheystoppedinfrontofawhitedoorwithafrostedwindow,V.Jonesstenciledinneatblacklettersontheglass.“Andwhyregularhistory,atthat?”

Shegavehimalookassheunlockedtheofficedoor.“Whynotwitchyhistory,youmean?”
Shrugging,Rhysleanedagainstthewall.“Itseemslikeafairquestion.”
Viviennepaused,herkeystillinthelock,andforamoment,Rhysthoughtshemightnotanswerhimatall.
Andthenshefinallysighedandsaid,“Believeitornot,Iactuallylike‘regular’history,andalso…Idon’tknow.
Iguessit’sjustthatIspentmostofmylifebeingmoreorlessaregularperson,sothat’swhereI’mmorecomfortable.”

Withthat,shepushedopenthedoorandafterabeat,Rhysfollowedherinside
Theofficewastiny,barelyenoughroomforadesk,twochairsandaslightlycrookedbookshelf,butitwashomeyandcozy,
remindinghimalittleofthespaceatthebackofSomethingWicked.Therewereplants,andcolorfulpostersofmedievaltapestries,
anelectrickettlewithbigflowerspaintedonit,andonherdesk,hespottedpicturesofherwithGwynandElaine,plus
acoupleofshotswithpeoplehedidn’trecognize.

Hewould’velikedtohavesaidhedidn’tcheckforanyguys,butthatwouldhavebeenthemostblatantoflies.HewasabsolutelycheckingtoseeiftherewassomepictureofViviinherpolkadots,someabsolutebastard’sarmaroundherwaist.
Butno,nothinglikethat.
“Sowhatsortofhistorydoyouteach?”heasked,turninghisattentiontothebookshelf.Christ,itevensmelledlikeher
inhere,thatwarm,softscentthateitherhehadn’trememberedorwasnew.AnotherpartofthisnewViviennehewantedto
learnabout.

“Thebasics,”shereplied,distractedasshedugthroughherdeskforsomething.“IntrotoWesternCivilization.”
“Ah,soyou’restuckwiththefirst-years.”
“Wesay‘freshmen’here,andyes,althoughIactuallyliketeachingthem.”
Shelookedup,smilingalittle.“It’snice,gettingtointroducekidstosomethingyoureallylove.”
Hecouldseeitthen,whatshemustbelikewhenshetaught.Thewayhercheekswouldflushwhenshegotonatopicshewas
passionateabout,thelightinhereyes.Herkidsmustloveher.

“Igetthat,”hesaid,nodding.“It’slikewhenIarrangeatripforpeopletoaplacethey’veneverbeenbefore.Iloveseeing
theirfaceswhentheygetback,lovelookingatthefivemillionpicturestheytookontheirphones.Okay,well,Idon’tactually
lovethat,butit’sstillkindoffun.”

Hersmilewidenedalittle.“Ibet.”
Forjustamoment,theycould’vebeentwostrangers,Rhysthought.Justtwopeoplechattingabouttheirjobs,maybelightlysussingeachotherout.
Andthen,onceagain,hehadtheunsettlingfeelingthatthat’swhattheywereinaway.
Exceptthatshecouldneverbeastranger,neverjustbesomewomanhefancied,andheneededtostopbeingdistractedby
herprettyeyesandlovelyhair,andrememberthathewascursednow.

Clearinghisthroat,heturnedbacktotheshelves.Right.Curse.Problemtobesolved.Focusonthat.
“YouhavealotofbooksaboutWalesoverhere.”
Bloodyhell,mate.
Whenheglancedbackoverather,hesawthatViviennewasnolongerlookingathim,hadbecomeveryinterestedinsomething
onherdesk.“Yes,well.That,um.Thatwasmyfocus.Ingradschool.LlewellyntheGreat,EdwardI,allofthat.”

Shemethiseyes.“Becauseofthetownhistory.”
“Obviously.”
“Nothingtodowithyou.”
“Wouldn’tdaretothinkit.”
Heturnedbacktotheshelves,thumbingthroughabookonthecastlesoftheMarcheswhenViviennesuddenlyasked,“Doyou
notlikeitthere?”

Rhysputthebookback,turningaround.“Where,inWales?”
Shenodded,andhesighed,foldinghisarmsoverhischestasheleanedbackagainstherbookshelf.St.Bugi’sballs,how
couldheexplaintoViviennethewayhefeltabouthishome?

“Iloveit,”hesaidatlast.“Themostbeautifulplaceintheworld,truly.Mountains,thesea,poetry,rugby.Thenationalanimalisadragon,forfuck’ssake.What’snottolove?”
“Butyoucreatedajobforyourselfwhereyou’realwaystraveling,”shesaid,straighteningup.“Andback…backwhen
wewere,um…”Shetuckedherhairbehindoneear,cheekscoloringprettily.“Whenwewereinvolved,yousaidyounever
likedtovisityourhometown.”

“Well,yes,butthat’sbecauseofmyfather,notbecauseofthetownitself,”herepliedwithwhathehopedwasarakishgrin.
ThisconversationwasbeginningtoskirttooclosetothingsRhysworkedveryhardnottothinkabout,soalittlerakishness
wasneeded.

AnditclearlydidthetrickbecauseViviennenarrowedhereyes,butdidn’tpressfurther,andafteramoment,shelifted
somethingoutfromunderneathapileofpapers.“Okay,foundmylibrarycard,solet’sgetyouoverthere.It’sontheway
tomyfirstclass.”

Anothertripacrosscampus,thisoneshortersincethelibrarywasjustupthehillfromthehistorybuilding,butthistime,
Rhyssensedsomething…different.

Thispartofcampuslookedthesameaseverythingelse—thebrick,theivy,allofthat—buthecouldfeelitintheair.
Magic.
Beforeheevenasked,Viviennenodded.“Theotherpartofthecollegeishere.Inthosebuildings.”Shenoddedatacluster
offoursmallerclassroombuildings,allgroupedtogetherunderneathacopseofmassiveoaktrees,shadedevenonthisbright
sunnyday.

“WhenIwashere,theywerejustmixedin,intheregularclassrooms,”Rhyssaid,andViviennerolledhereyes.
“Right.Well,thatonlyworkeduntilthefirsttimearegularstudentbumbledpastthewardsandintoaclassonauguryand
triedtotakeavideoofitwithhiscellphone.Acoupleofyearsago,allmagicclasseswererelocatedtothosebuildings.”

“Makessense.Andthebumblingstudents?”Rhysaskedashewatchedacoupleofgirlsinjeansandsweatersjogupthesteps
ofoneofthemagicbuildings.

“Keptoutbythesamekindofrepulsionspellthatprotectsthebackroomofthestore,”Vivienneanswered.“Easiertomaintain
andmakestrongerwhenit’soveronecentrallocation,notabunchofseparateclassrooms.Plusthisarrangementkeepsthem
outofeveryone’shair.”

Theywereatthelibrarynow,abuildingRhyshaddecidedlynevervisitedinallhistimeatPenhaven,anditwasappropriately
Gothic-lookingwithhugewhitecolumnsandpointedwindows.

Still,Rhyspausedoutside,jerkinghisheadbacktowardthemagicalpartofthecollege.“Youneverhangoutwiththem?Even
thoughthey’rewitches,too?”

Viviennefollowedhisgazeandshookherhead.“No,they’re…look,youcanmeetthemifyouwant.You’llsee.”
“VivienneJones,yousnob.”
Shesnortedatthat,andthengesturedforhimtofollowher.“Comeon.Wemightnotbetalkingtothem,butwe’redefinitely
usingsomeoftheirresources.”
Chapter14
VivihadneverlikedPenhaven’slibrary.Maybeitwastooclosetothewitchysideofthings,ormaybeitwasthefactthat,
unliketherestofcampus,itwasdarkandslightlyforeboding,almostmedievalwithitsnarrowwindowsanddarkstone,the
toweringshelvesblockingoutwhatlittlelightdidmanagetomakeitin.Evenwiththebanksofcomputersinthecenterof
thefirstfloor,Vivistillfeltshewassteppingintothetwelfthcenturyorsomethingeverytimeshecameinhere,andas
sheledRhystowardtheback,sheactuallyshiveredalittle,pullingherjackettighteraroundher.

“Bloodyhell,”Rhysmutterednexttoher.“Dotheyhangmeatinhere?”
“It’snotusuallythiscold,”shereplied,frowning.Seriously,thelibrarywasnotalwaysherfavoriteplace,butitusually
wasn’tquitethischillyandoppressive.Andwhensheglancedaround,shenoticedthatthefewstudentsinthereatthistimeofthemorning
wereclearlyfeelingit,too,huddledatthestudycarrels,theirshouldersuparoundtheirears.

“Heatingmustbeout,”shesaidbeforelookingoveratRhys.“Goodthingyoubroughtajacket.”
“AlsogoodthingI’mfromacountryforwhom‘chilly’and‘dank’couldbewrittenontheflagorpossiblyinsomesortof
motto,”Rhyssaid.

Vivopenedhermouth,wantingtoaskhimmoreaboutWales,butsheshutitjustasquickly,shakingherheadasshecontinued
toheadfortheSpecialCollections.BadenoughRhyshadfoundoutthatshe’dstudiedWelshhistoryincollegeandgradschool.
Shedidn’tneedtomakeanymoresmalltalkwithhimthatinadvertentlyrevealedtoomuch.

Notthatshe’dstudiedWalesbecauseofRhys—shedefinitelyhadnot.Notevenalittle.Yes,himtalkingaboutitthatsummer
hadpiquedherinterest,butyoudidn’tdevoteyearsofyourlifetostudybecauseaguyyouwentoutwithforthreemonths
talkedaboutitonetime.

JustlikeherneveractuallygoingtoWaleshadnothingtodowithhim,either.Itwasasmallcountry,butshecould’veavoided
himbecausewhatwerethechances—

“Vivienne,”Rhyswhispered,leaningdownsoclosethathisbreathwaftedwarmoverherear,andnowhergoosebumpswerefrom
morethanthecold.“We’reinalibrary.”

Shestopped,confused,andthenRhysputafingeroverhislips.“You’rethinkingtooloud.”
Viviwasn’tsureifshewantedtolaughorfliphimoff,soshesettledforignoringhim.
Andifshesmiledalittlewhenherbackwastohim,thatwasherbusiness.
Therewassomethingwrongwiththislibrary.
Rhyshadn’tbeeninallthatmanylibrariesoverthecourseofhislife,buthe’dbeeninenoughtoknowtheyusuallydidn’t
feellikethis.Hell,evenhisfamilyhome,thescariestplaceongod’sgreenearth,asfarasRhyswasconcerned,didn’t
feellikethis.

Itwasn’tjustthechillintheair,althoughasheandViviennewalkedthroughapairofheavywoodendoorstoaccessthe
backofthelibrary,hewasverygladhe’dthrownonhisleatherjacketthismorning.

Itwassomething…unnatural.Somethingoff.
Andthefeelingcrawledoverhisskininawayhedidn’tlike.
Viviennefeltit,too.Hecouldtellfromthewayhergazekeptdartingaround.Butshewasn’tsayinganything,sohewasn’t
goingtomentioniteither,eventhoughheknewtheywerebothwonderingthesamething:Wasthissomethingtodowiththe
curseandtheleylines?

Theypassedthroughlongrowsofshelves,thespacebetweenthemgettingnarrowerandnarroweruntiltheyhadtowalksingle
file,Vivienneleadingtheway.She’dwornherhairuptodayinamessyknotcaughtatthebackofherneck,andinspite
ofeverything,Rhys’sfingersitchedtoreachoutandtakeitdown.

Whatwouldshedoifhedid?
Kickyouintheballsasyou’dsorightlydeserve,heremindedhimself,andshovingthosefeelingsdown,continuedtofollowVivithroughthewarrenofshelves.
Finally,theshelvesopenedup,andtheystoodinadim,circularroom,amassiveoakdeskinthecenterofit,raisedso
highthatRhys’schinbarelycameuptotheedge.Vivienne,tallasshewas,hadtostandontiptoestopeerover.

“Dr.Fulke?”shecalledsoftly,andanancient,wizenedfacesuddenlyappeared.
“Ms.Jones?”
Smilingwithrelief,Viviennerockedbackonherheelsandadjustedherbagonhershoulder.“Yes.Thisismy…research
assistant.”ShejerkedathumbatRhys,andhelookedupattheancientwomanbehindthedesk,wonderingifthiswouldactually
work.IfshewasawitchandworkedatPenhaven,therewasagoodchanceshemightknowwhohewas.

Butthewomanatthedeskdidn’tseemtocaremuch.ShebarelygaveRhysacursoryglancebeforenoddingandtypingsomething
outonacomputerinfrontofher.

“Twohours,”shesaid,andtherewasalittlewhirasamachineprintedoutasticker,whichshehandedtoVivienne,whoturned
andhandedittoRhys.

v.jonesguest,itread,alittletimestampunderneath,andRhysfrowned.

“Thisis…alotmoreprosaicthanIwasexpecting.”
“Weliveinthetwenty-firstcentury,”Dr.Fulkesaidfromherperch,foldingherarmsoverhernarrowchest.“Forgiveus
fornotscratchingyournameonvellumwithaquill.”

“Well,Idon’tneedvellum,buttheoddquillwouldbe—”

“Thankyou,Dr.Fulke,”Viviennesaidquickly,pullingRhysaway.
“Yourresearchassistant?”heaskedastheymoveddeeperintothestacks.
“ItwasthefirstthingIcouldthinkof,”shewhisperedback.“And,Imean.It’snotcompletelyuntrue.”

Shestoppedastheyreachedthebackoftheroom,noddingatarowofdoors.“Takeanythingyoufindintooneofthoserooms,
andI’llmeetyoubackhereinanhourorso,assoonasIgetoutofclass.YoucanaskDr.Fulkeoranyoftheotherlibrarians
ifyouneedhelp,butdon’t—”

“Vivienne.”Hestoppedherbysteppingcloser,reachingouttoputhishandsonhershouldersbeforehethoughtbetterof
itandsteppedbackagain.“Iamagrown,adultman,”hesaidinstead.“IthinkIcanmanageaskingforhelpwithoutgiving
awaythewholeplot.”

Herpursedlipstoldhimshemightnotactuallybelievethat,butshegaveanodanyway.“Good.I’llhelponceI’mback.”
Withthat,shewasturningawayinaswirlofgoldenhairandblackskirt,leavingRhysaloneinherdeeplycreepylibrary.
Notjustcreepy,butheavy.Ancientmagic,thetrulyold,deepstuff,hummedthroughtheroomlikeacurrentofelectricity,thekindofmagicthatmade
youfeelalittleuncomfortable,skinsuddenlytoosensitive,teethachingslightly.

Grimacing,Rhysrolledhisshouldersandsteppedfartherintothebreach.
Fifteenminuteslater—andwithnoassistanceatall,thankyouverymuch,VivienneJones—Rhyshadastackofbooksandmadehiswaytooneofthedoorsintheback.
Thestudyroomwastiny,nearlyclaustrophobicwithnowindows,theonlylightfromaheavyglasslampoverhead,andnothing
morethanalargewoodentableinthemiddle,anancientslabofoakthatalsoseemedtoholdsomemagicalproperties.When
Rhysputhishandflatonthetop,hecouldfeelaslightvibration.

Sighing,heopenedthefirstbookfromthestack.
ItwasmostlyinLatin,andRhysfeltthatpartofhisbraincreakslowlyintolifeasheread.Hadn’thadmuchuseforLatin
sinceschool,andhadtakensomethingofaperversepleasureinnotbeingasfluentinitashisfatherandbrothers,insisting
anymagicthatrequiredthismuchworkwasn’tworthit.

Hemayberegrettedthatnow.
Justasmidgen.
Andasheread,hecouldn’tstopthinkingabouthisfather,whomhedefinitelyshouldbecalling,rightnow,thisminute,
actuallyseveralhoursago.

Simonwouldknowwhattodo.Healwaysdid.Butthatdidn’tmeanRhyswasreadytotalktohimaboutthisyet.
Wasthatbecausehewasafraidofhisfather’sreactionwhenhelearnedhe’dactuallybeenwrongaboutsomething?
OrwasitbecauseofVivienne?
Rhysgroanedandclosedthebookinfrontofhim,reachinguptorubhiseyeswithonehand.
Whatafuckingmessthisallwas.
HowcouldheexplaintoSimonthatthiswasn’tsomeactofwaronVivienne’spart,butjustateenagegirlwho’dbeenhurt—hurtbyhimbeingacompletedickhead—andaspellthathadgottenoutofhand?Simonwouldn’tunderstandthat.Simonhadnot,toRhys’s
knowledge,everevenbeenateenager,probably.Seemedlikelyhe’djustsprungfullyformedandterrifyingoutofacloud
orsomething.

AndthenRhysrealizedwhohecouldcall.
Simonwasout,buttherewastheyounger,slightlylessterrifyingversionofSimon.

Pullingouthisphone,Rhysquicklydidthemathonwhattimeitwasbackhome,anddialed.
Withinaboutfiveminutes,hewasdeeplyregrettingthatdecision.
“Youhavetocomehome.”
“Comehome?Allcursedandsuch?Wells,IknowI’mnotyourfavoritepersonintheworld,butwishingmedeadseemsabit
much.”

“Idon’twishyoudead,yougit,butit’sobviousthatyoucan’tstaytherewithacovenofwitcheswhocursedyou.”
Sighing,Rhysclosedhiseyesandpinchedthebridgeofhisnosebetweenthumbandforefinger.Thiswaswhathe’dbeenworried
about.

“You’remakingitsoundworsethanitis.Itwasn’tlikethat,itwas—”
“Idon’tcarewhatitwaslike,”Wellssaid,andRhyscouldalmostseehimtherebehindthebaratthepub,gloweringathismobile.“Youneedtocomehome,andyouneedtotalktoFatheraboutthis.”
“Or,”Rhyssuggested,“secondary,alsosolidplan:Idoneitherofthosethings,andyouhelpmethinkofsomewaytobreak
thiscursewithouthavingtoinvolveDa.”

Ontheotherendoftheline,LlewellynblewoutabreaththatRhyscouldpracticallyfeel.
“Icanaskaround.”
“Discreetly.”
Wellsmadearudenoise.“ThedayIneeddirectionsfromyouonhowtobediscreetisthedayIflingmyselfoffthetopof
MountSnowdon.”

“Somethingtolookforwardto,then,”Rhysreplied,cheerful,andtherewasapauseontheotherendofthelinebeforeWells
said,“Seriously,mate.Becareful.Itwould…ifsomethingweretoeverhappentoyou…Iknowwe…”

Sittingupstraighter,Rhyslookedinhorrorathisphone.“Ohmygod,Wells,pleasestop.”
“Tooright,”Wellsagreed,clearinghisthroat.“Anyway,trynottodie.Asyourolderbrother,Igetthefirstshotattaking
youdown,Bowenthesecond,soitwouldbeveryunfairifyouperishedthereinthewildsofAmericawithoutlettingushave
ourchance.”

Relievedtobebacktotakingthepissandnotactuallysharingfeelings,Rhysnoddedandtappedhispenonthedesk.“Fair
enough,oldman.”

Heendedthecallandslidhisphonebackintohispocket,wishinghefeltbetteraboutthiswholething.HavingWellsonhissidewasdefinitelyaboon,butitwasn’tgoingtobeenough.Rhysneededtofigureouthowtobreakthiscurseasfastaspossible,andsofar,thebooksweren’texactlyhelping.
Oh,therewasinformationoncurses,butmostlyhowtolayone.Apparentlynowitcheverwantedtobreakacurse.

Typical.
BythetimeVivienneslidintotheresearchroomanhourorsolater,Rhys’seyesachedfromtryingtoparseouttinyscript,
hisbrainhurtfromallthetranslatingandhishandwascrampedfromwritingdowneverylittlebitofinformationthatmight
beuseful.

Andhestilldidn’tfeellikehehadlearnedanymorethanhe’dalreadyknownwhenhe’dcomeinhere.
“Idon’tsupposeyoubroughtcoffee,”heaskedVivienne,notlookingup.He’djustcomeacrossananecdoteaboutaScottish
farmerwhosuspectedhiscropswerecursedandhadattemptedtoreversethespell.

Goingbytheillustration,itseemedtohaveendedwithhimturningintoaratherlargecat,butitwasstillbetterthan
nothing.

“IfItriedtobringcoffeeintothispartofthelibrary,Dr.Fulkewouldhangmeupbymytoenails,sono,”Viviennereplied,
comingtoperchontheedgeofthetable.

Asshedid,Rhyscaughtthatscentagain,thatsweet,almostsugarysmellthatclungtoherskin,andhisfingerstightened
aroundhispen.

“Howgoesit?”sheasked,leaningintoseewhathewaswriting,andRhyssatbackinhischair,rollinghisshoulderstoalleviatesomeofthetensionthathadgatheredthere.
“Notwell,”headmitted.“Buttobefair,I’veonlybeenatitforalittlewhile.Andofcourse,sinceIcan’talertthe
otherwitcheshereastowhatI’mdoing,I’mstumblinginthedarkalittlebit.”

Viviennefrowned,awrinkleappearingoverhernose,andRhyswantedtoreachoutandsmoothitawaywithhisthumb.
Thenshestoodup.“Well,I’mherenow,andIcanhelp.Whatbookshaven’tyoulookedatyet?”
Thirtyminuteslater,shesighedandclosedthelastbook,itsspinecreakingominously.
“Sothisoneisuseless.”Leaningacrossthetable,shereachedforanotherfromthestack,butevenasherfingersclosed
overthecover,Rhysshookhishead.

“Alreadytriedthatone.”
“Whataboutthisone?”sheasked,tappingherfingersonanotherbook,andRhysbarelylookedupbeforeshakinghisheadagain.
“Alsoadud.”
Viviennesatupstraighterinherchair.“Okay,sothisentireendeavorhasbeenabust,then?”
Rhysfinallylookedupather.“Didyouthinkthiswasgoingtobeeasy?”
Risingfromherseat,Viviennerubbedthebackofherneck.“No,butitjust…itshouldn’tbethishardtoreversea
curse.Especiallyacursethisstupid.”Throwingupherhands,sheadded,“Imean,wewerebarelyevenathing.”

Rhyswastired.Hewascranky.Andhewasquiteliterallycursed,whichisprobablywhythosewords…irked.
Morethanirked,really.
Infuriated.
“EnoughofathingthatyoucursedmewhenIleft.”
Viviennefrowned,herhandrestingagainonthebackofherneck.“Youdidn’tleave,”sheremindedhim.“Ileftyouafteryousuddenlyrememberedyouwereengaged.”

Tiltinghisheadbacktolookattheceiling,Rhysgroaned.“Iwasnotengaged,Iwasbetrothed,whichisnot—”

“Iknow,”shesaid,standingup.“Notthesamething.Soyoutriedtosayatthetime,butIgottasay,Rhys,Iwasnotin
themoodforadiscussionaboutsemanticsthen,andIdefinitelyamnotnow.”

Hadheforgottenthatshecouldbethisfrustrating,orwasthisanewtrait,anotherfacetofAdultViviennehehadn’tlearned?
Risingfromhischair,Rhyssteppedclosertoher,suddenlyawareofjusthowsmallthestudyroomwas,howclosetheywere.
Christ,heshouldgohome.ToWales.Heshouldsay“buggerit”toallthisandleave.
Instead,hesaid,“Thatsummerwasimportant,Vivienne.Itmeantsomething.”
Herlipswereparted,herbreathcomingfast,andeverycellinRhys’sbodywantedtotouchherevenashismindwasscreaming
forhimtobackoff
ThenVivienne’seyesnarrowed,andshesteppedclosertohim.“Itwasathree-monthflingthatIbarelyremember.”
“Bollocks,”hecountered.
“Extremelynotbollocks.”
Shewasopenlyglaringathimnow,herhandscurledintofistsathersidesashemovedincloser.
“Soyoudon’trememberthefirsttimewekissed?”
Rhysdid.He’drememberituntilhedied.They’dbeensittingontopofahill,thenightasoftvioletallaroundthem,the
smellofbonfiresandsummerintheair,andwhenhe’daskedifhecouldkissher,he’dnearlybeenholdinghisbreath,wanting
hertosayyesmorethanhe’deverwantedanythinginhislife.

“I’vekissedalotofguys,”Viviennesaid,shrugging.“Theyallblendtogetherafterawhile.”
“Dotheyindeed,”Rhyssaid,andsomehowheandViviennewereveryclosenow,closeenoughforhimtoseehowwideherpupils
were,theflushclimbingupherneck.

“Yup,”shereplied,andhesawhergazeflicktohismouth.“Guessyoushould’vebeenmorememorable.”
“AndifIweretokissyounow,”Rhyssaid,hisvoicegonelowashelookeddownather,“wouldthatrefreshyourmemory?”
Shewasgoingtotellhimtofuckoff.Orslaphim.Possiblykneehimintheballs.Thosewereallthingshewasreadyfor.
WhatRhyshadnotexpectedwasforhertostepsoclosethattheirbodiesaligned,chesttochest,hipstohips.
“Goforit.”Chapter15
Themomenthislipsmethers,Vivirealizedshe’dmadeaterriblemistake.
IthadprobablybeentoomuchtohopethattheinterveningyearshadsomehowmadeRhysworseatkissing.Evenwiththecurse.
Andofcourseshe’dliedtohimwhenshesaidshecouldn’trememberhiskiss.She’drememberedeverythingwhenitcameto
him.Everykiss,everytouch.

ThosemonthswithRhysPenhallowhadbeenprimefantasymaterialovertheyears,herownpersonalX-ratedscrapbook.
Butmaybeshehadn’tbeenlyingafterall,becauseashekissedher,sherealizedshehadn’trememberedexactlyhowgoodit
was.Howgoodhewasatthis.

Hekissedherlikehe’dbeendyingtokisshereveryoneofthesepastnineyears,alowgrowlrumblinginhischestwhen
histonguemethers,andVivifeltthatsoundallthewaydowntohertoes.

Handscuppingherface,Rhystiltedherhead,deepeningthekiss,andVivi’sownfingersclutchedathisshoulders,wanting,needingtogetasclosetohimasshecould.
Ashebackedup,pullingherwithhim,hishipnudgedthetable.Viviheardthatoneprecariousstackofbookshitthefloor
almostfromadistanceassheturnedaround,proppingherselfupontheedgeofthetable,nevertakingherhandsoffhim,
hereyesclosed,herbloodsohotinherveinsshewassurprisedherskinwasn’tsteaming.

“Christ,Iforgot,”hewasmutteringagainstherneck,hismouthhot.“HowdidIforget?”
Vivicouldonlyshakeherheadbecauseshe’dforgotten,too.Ormaybe“forgotten”wasn’ttherightword.She’ddriventhe
memoryofthisconnection,thisheat,fromhermindalongwithalltherestofRhys.Shehadn’tletherselfrememberhowgood
itwasbetweenthembecausethatwouldmeanthesummerflingshehadatnineteensomehowtrumpedeveryotherrelationship
inheradultlife,andthatwastoodepressingtocontemplate.

Ormaybeyouwerescared,alittlevoiceinhermindremindedher.Becauseifhewasthebest,youlosthimtoosoon.
Hishandswereskatingoverherhipsnow,gatheringupthematerialofherskirt,andevenasVivitoldherselfshe’dbecompletely
outofhermindtohavesexwithherexinafreakinglibrary,shewasn’tstoppinghim.Infact,shewashelpinghim,herownhandsgoingtoshovehisjacketoffhisbroadshoulderseven
asshesituatedherselfmorefirmlyontheedgeofthetable.

Rhyswasstandingbetweenherlegsandshecouldfeelhim,hardandhotthroughthedenimofhisjeans,pushingagainstthecradleofherthighsastheyjustkeptonkissing,andViviputonehandonthetablebehindhersothatshecouldbraceherselftopressevencloser.
Thesoundhemadeassherolledherhipsagainsthimsentelectricityracingdownherspine,andVivitiltedherheadtogive
himbetteraccesstoherneck,hereyesdriftingshutasherfingersclutchedtheedgeofhisjacket.

Thenhewaskissinghermouthagain,histonguestrokinghers,hishipsmovingagainstherinawaythatmadeherfeelmore
thanalittlecrazy.

“Vivienne,”hemurmuredagainstherneck,hishandstrokingherthigh,andshenodded,needyandwanting.
“Touchme,”sheheardherselfsay.“Rhys,please…”
Shewaswearingtights,butshecouldstillfeelthepressofhisfingersalongtheseamtherebetweenherlegs,andshetilted
upintohistouch,gasping.

“Okay,sothatpartofthecursedefinitelydidn’twork,”shemuttered,andRhysliftedhishead,gazefoggywithdesire.
“What?”
“Nothing,”shesaid,shakingherhead.“Justdoitagain.”
Hedid,andViviloweredherforeheadtohisshoulder,hergriponhisshirtsotightshewassurprisedthefabricdidn’t
tear.

Thiswasinsane.Irresponsible.Stupid.
Andshewasgoingtodoitanyway.
WhenViviheardthefirstscream,thefirstthoughtherdazed,lust-addledmindcouldcomeupwithwasthatsomeonehadwalked
inonthem.

Butno,asthescreamcameagain,itwasclearthatitwasn’tthatclose.
Rhyshadfrozen,too,hisheadslightlytiltedtowardthedoor.
“I’mguessingthat’snotanormalsoundinthelibrary.”
Stillonlyhalfawareofwhatwasgoingon,Vivishookherhead,blinking.“No,that’s—”
Thethirdscreamwasfollowedbyalowrumble,andVivileapttoherfeet,smoothingherskirtdownbackoverherlegswith
onehandasRhystookherother,pullinghertowardthedoor.

“Comeon.”
Astheycameoutofthestudyroom,Dr.Fulkehadalreadysteppeddownfromhermassivedeskandwaslookingoffthroughthe
stacksbacktowardtheregularpartofthelibrary,herwrinkledfacecreasedevenfurtherwithworry.

“Something’swrong,”shesaid,shakingherhead,andVivihadthesenseDr.Fulkewasn’teventalkingtothem.
AndthenRhyswaspullingherbackthroughtheshelvesinthedirectionthey’dcomethismorning,closerandclosertothat
awfulscreaming.

Thestrangethingwas,theclosertheygottothesourceofthesound,themoreVivi’sheartpounded,notjustwithfearbut
withthatsameoverwhelmingsenseofmagicshe’dfeltearlier,thatcoldsenseofwrongnessthathadseepedinfromthemoment
they’denteredthelibrary.

SheandRhysburstoutofthestacks,andthecoldnearlysuckedVivi’sbreathfromherlungs.Earlier,ithadbeenchilly.Nowitwasfrigid,socolditalmosthurt,andshelookedaroundherwithwideeyes.
Studentswerecoweredunderstudydesks,huddledincorners,andinthecenteroftheroom…
“Isthat…?”Rhysasked,andVivicouldonlynod,dumbfounded.
“It’saghost.”
Rhysstaredattheapparitioninfrontofthem,wonderinghowsomeonewhogrewupwherehehadhadneverseenaghostbefore.
Truthbetold,hehadn’tactuallybelievedthedamnthingswererealbecauseiftheywere,there’dbeennobetterplacefor
themthanPenhavenManor.

Thisseemedveryreal.
Thewomanwasaglowinggreenishblue,hereyeswideinherpaleface,feetdanglingjustabitoffthefloor.Buttheweirdest
thingaboutherwashowshewasdressed.Shehadonjeans,aflannelshirtoveraT-shirtandapairofConversehigh-tops
withSharpiedoodlesonthetoes,herdarkhairpulledbackinamessyponytailassheglaredatthem.

Whenevershe’ddied,ithadn’tbeenallthatlongago,andRhysfoundthatmoreunsettlingthanhecouldexplain.
Thekidnearesthim,atallskinnyguyinaPenhavenCollegehoodieandjeans,wassittingonthefloor,hishandsraised
overhisheadlikehewaswardingoffablow.

“Whatthehellisthatthing?”heaskedRhys,andRhysfoughttheurgetoreply,HowinthenameofsweetfuckwouldIknow?
Vivisteppedalittleclosertotheapparition.“What’sshelookingfor?”sheasked.
Theghostwasstillmovingbackandforth,herheadswingingfromsidetoside,andyes,shedefinitelyseemedtobesearching
theshelvesforsomething,herpalefacecontortedintoascowl.

Andthensheseemedtoseehim.
“Sonofabitch,”Rhysmutteredunderhisbreath.
“Ithinkshe’slookingat—”Viviennestarted,butbeforeshecouldfinishthesentence,therewasabansheeshriek,andthe
ghostwasflyingathim.

Foramoment,thecoldRhyshadfeltearlierseemedtoslipoverhimfromheadtotoe,envelopinghimasthoughhe’dfallen
intothesea.

Andthenhewasflying.
Well,notflyingsomuchastumblingslightlyabovethefloor,hisbackconnectingpainfullywithabookshelf.Dimly,heheard
itcreakandwobble,heardtheshrieksofthestudentsinthelibrary,thepoundingofrunningfeetandViviennecallinghis
name.Butaboveallofthat,hecouldstillhearthatshrillscreamtheghosthaduttered,likeSatan’steakettlewhistle,
andashetriedtositup,hewinced,holdinghisribs.Noneseemedbroken,buttheyweredefinitelysore,andifthatthing
decidedtotakeanothershotathim…

Theghosthaditsbacktohimnow,itsattentionfocusedontheshelvesinfrontofit,andasRhyswatched,spectralfingersreachedouttotakeabookdown,onlyfortheghosttohowlinfrustrationasherhandpassedrightthroughwhateveritwasshewastryingtohold.Stillshetriedagainandagain,hermovementsjerkierandmorefrantic,andRhysswallowedhardasheattemptedtocometohisfeet.
Viviennewasstillstandingthere,frowningatthething,andwhenshetookahesitantstepevencloser,Rhysliftedhishand.
“Vivienne!”hecalled,andtheghost’sheadwhippedaround,eyesnarrowing.
Hecouldfeelitgatheringupenergy,thetemperatureintheroomdroppingevenfurther,socoldnowthathecouldseehis
breath,andeveryhaironhisbodyseemedtobestandingonend.

Bracinghimselfforanotherattack,Rhysgrittedhisteeth.
Butthentheghoststopped,floatingslightlytotherighttoglareatVivienne,whostillstoodthere,studyingitlikeit
wasapuzzleshecouldn’tquiteworkout.

Withasoundsomewherebetweenasighandawail,theghostdroppedherhead,and,assuddenlyasasoapbubblepopping,was
gone.

Theroomalmostimmediatelybecamewarmer,andRhyslookedaroundhim.
Thefewstudentsintheroomhadfled,leavinghimandViviennealoneamongtheoverturnedtables,theabandonedtextbooks
andpagesofnotebookpaperthathadfallentothefloor,thelibrarysuddenlyveryquietafterallthatchaos.

RhysmovedovertoVivienne,takingbothherhandsinhis.Theywerefreezing,andhechafedherfingersbetweenhispalms.“Areyouallright?”heaskedinalowvoice.
Momentsago,they’dbeenkissing.Morethankissing,really.Rhysknewwhenakisswasjustakiss,andwhenitwasaprelude
tomore,andwhatthey’dbeendoinginthatstudyroomhaddefinitelybeenleadingsomewhere.Hecouldstilltasteheron
histongue,stillfeelthedampheathe’dtouchedbetweenherlegs.

Butnowshewaspullingherhandsoutofhisandmovingback,hereyesalittledistant.
“Fine,”shesaid.“You?”
Rhysgingerlytouchedhisribsagain.“Nothingahotbathandanicewhiskywon’tfix.”
Shenodded,thenlookedbacktotheshelftheghosthadbeensearching.“Whatwasshelookingfor?”
“That’swhatyou’reconcernedabout?”Rhysasked,raisinghiseyebrows.“Notthefactthatghostsarereal?”
“Thatpart,too,”shesaid,walkingovertotheshelf,frowningasshescannedthetitlesthere.“Haveyoueverseenonebefore?”
“Mostdefinitelynot,”Rhyssaid,shovinghishandsinhispocketswithashudder.Hecouldstillfeeltheunnaturalcoldness
ofthespiritslippingoverhim,rememberedhowhe’dfeltsuddenlynotincontrolofhisownbody.

Fuckinghorrifying.
Andithadn’tjustbeenthecoldhe’dfelt—thatthinghadbeenangryathim.Butwhy?

“Ms.Jones.”
AwomanstoodinthedoorwaybetweentheregularlibraryandSpecialCollections,Dr.Fulkehoveringnervouslybehindher.Shecould’vebeenanywherebetweenfiftyandeighty,somehowagelessandancientallatonce,herhairabrightshockofwhiteagainstherdarkskin,andshewaswearing,asfarasRhyscouldtell,aboutsixty-eightscarves.
Nexttohim,Viviheavedadeepsigh.
“Dr.Arbuthnot,”shesaid,andthenlookedatRhys.“HeadofWitchery.”Chapter16
Vivihadneverbeeninthewitcherydepartmentbefore,andshewassurprisedtoseeitwasalotliketheregularbuildings
oncampus,justnicer.Thefloorsweremarbleinsteadoflinoleum,thewallswallpaperedinadarkgreendamaskpatternand
thechairsinDr.Arbuthnot’sofficewerevelvetinsteadofthehardplasticandpolyesterVivi’sofficefeatured.

Buttheofficewasstillsmall,therewasstillonlyonewindow,andasDr.ArbuthnotpassedViviacupoftea,shenoticed
astackofpapersattheedgeofthedesk,waitingtobegraded.

“WouldyouliketotellmewhatyouweresearchingforinSpecialCollections?”Dr.Arbuthnotaskednow,comingtositon
theothersideofthedeskfromViviandRhys.

Vivididn’tknowaboutRhys,butshefeltlikeshe’dbeencalledtotheprincipal’soffice,andshesippedhertea,trying
toregainsomecomposure.Betweenthekissandtheghost,herbrainfeltlikeithadbeenscatteredintoamillionpieces,
andsheknewshewouldneedeveryshredofthatbraintogotoe-to-toewiththeheadofWitchery.

“We’vehadamagicalmishapofsorts,”Rhyssaid,smilingasheliftedhisownteacuptohislips.“SomethingwentwrongwhenIwaschargingtheleylines,asismyresponsibilityasamemberofthefoundingfamilyofthistown.”
Charmandauthority,usuallyawinningcombination,butVivisawDr.Arbuthnot’sexpressionharden.“Amishap,”sherepeated,
hervoiceflat,thenbusiedherselfwithcollectingpapersonherdesk.“Well,thismishaphasapparentlyreleasedaghost
fromaverypowerfulbindingspell,soIsuggestyoufixitassoonaspossible.”

“Abindingspell?”Vivileanedforward.She’dheardofthosebefore,buttheywereintensemagic,farmoreseriousthananything
she’deverattempted.“Theghostwesawtodayhadbeenbound?”

ThecornersofDr.Arbuthnot’smouthturneddown,butshenodded.“PiperMcBride,backin1994.Oneofourbeststudents.
Unfortunatelybecametoointerestedinthedarkerarts,andwhensheattemptedcontactbeyondtheveil,sheendedupaccidentally
sacrificingherself.Thisiswhywe’resostrictaboutcertaintypesofmagicbeingforbidden.Messwiththewrongthing,
itkillsyou,asPiperlearned,sadly.”

Dr.Arbuthnotplacedthepapersbackonherdesk,herexpressiondistant.“Andwhenawitchdiesasaresultofshadowmagic,
wehavenochoicebuttobindtheirspirit.”

Vivihadneverheardofthat,butitmadesense.Magicwasenergy,moreorless.Dotoomuch,itcoulddrainyourlifeforce
rightoutofyou.Andifyoudieddoingsomethingespeciallypowerful,thatenergyhadtogosomewhere
Likemakingaghost.
“Butnow,”Dr.Arbuthnotsaid,hertonebriskagain,“themagicbindingPiper’sspiritisbroken,soshe’sfreetowreakhavoc.
Whichisobviouslyofconcerntous.”

Linkingherfingers,Dr.Arbuthnotplacedherhandsonherdesk,studyingRhysandVivi.“Thenormalpartsofthecollege
andthemore…specializedpartsliveinharmony.SomethingIthinkyouknowverywell,Ms.Jones.Butghostsinthelibrary
areobviouslygoingtobeveryupsettingtotheadministration.”

ViviactuallyfeltlikeatinypieceofhersoulwaswitheringunderDr.Arbuthnot’sgaze.“Absolutely,”sheagreed.“Which
iswhy—”

“Whichiswhyyouwillfix.This,”Dr.Arbuthnotreplied,bitingoffthewords,andVivinoddedsoeagerly,shealmostspilled
hertea.“Yes.Yes,ofcoursewewill.”

“Good.”Shestaredatthemforamoment,thenwavedonehandtowardthedoor.“Youcanbothgonow.”
BothRhysandViviputtheirteacupsbackonherdesksoquicklytheyrattled,andmadeforthedoor.
OncetheywerebackacrosscampusandsafelyensconcedinVivi’soffice,Rhystookadeepbreath,floppingintothechair
oppositeherdesk.“Allright,Iseeyourpointnow.”

“Thankyou,”shesaid,pressingonehandtoherchestlikethatmightstopherheartfromgallopingoutofit.“They’reintense,
right?”

“Extremely.Andhowexactlyarewemeanttorebindaghost?”
Shakingherhead,Viviwalkedaroundthedeskandsatinherchair.“Noclue.Butwehaveto.”
Anideaoccurredtoherthen,takingshapesofastshecouldalmostseeit.“Rhys,”shesaid,layingbothpalmsonherdesk.
Heeyedhersuspiciously.“Yes?”
“Thisiswhatwehavetodo.It’sgoingtotakeusawhiletofigureouthowtobreakthecurse,butwhilewedo,wecanat
leastsolvealltheissuesthecursecaused.Likehowwefixedthingsatthestorelastnight.”

Rhyswaslookingatherlikeshe’dgrownanotherhead.“Wedidn’tfixthat,though.Yourauntdid.”
Vivijustshookherhead,someofthatgod-awfulguiltfinallyabating.Theycoulddothis,betweenthetwoofthem.Right
thewrongsthey’dinadvertentlycaused.“Butyouwereabletoconvincethosegirlsthatnothingoutoftheordinarywashappening.
Thatcould’vebeenanabsoluteshitshow,butitwasn’t.”

“Firstofall,itwasdefinitelyshitshow–adjacent,”Rhyssaid,shruggingoutofhisjacketandhangingitfromtheback
ofhischair.“Andsecondly,Vivienne,wecan’tjustputoutfiresleftandright.Especiallywhenwedon’tevenknowwhat
thosefiresmightlooklike.”

“Maybenot,”Vivisaid,leaningback.“Butwecantry.”
“Ienjoyyouroptimism,Vivienne,Ireallydo.”
Shepulledaface.“Don’tbecynical,Rhys.Notaboutthis.”
“I’mnotusually,”hesaid.Heblewoutabreath,scrubbingahandoverhishair.Itfloppedperfectlybackintoplace,absolutelydoingTheThing,andVivigroanedinwardly.Itreallywasn’tfair.Allthebadpartsofthecurse,andnoneofthesillybits?Whatkindoftrade-offwasthat?

AcompletebullshitoneasfarasViviwasconcerned.
Rhys’sphonesuddenlybuzzedinhispocket,andhepulleditout,withafrown,muttering,“Ah,buggeritall.”
“Whatisit?”
“Something’sgonetitsupatwork,”Rhyssaid,nottakinghiseyesoffhisphoneashisthumbsmovedfranticallyacrossthe
screen.

TherewasacoldsensationinthepitofVivi’sstomachallofasudden.“Isitbecauseofallthis?”Isitbecauseofme?
“’Coursenot,”Rhysrepliedimmediately,glancingupbrieflytoflashherasmile.“Shitehappensinthetravelbusiness.”
Hewaslying.Viviknewthat.Forone,hewasn’tverygoodatlying,hiseyessomehowgivinghimaway,andtwo,sheknewthat
partofRhys’smagicinvolvedluck.Whatbetterskilltohavewhenyouplannedtripsforpeople?Ifsomethingwasgoingwrong,
itwasbecauseofthecurse,whichmeantitwasindeedbecauseofher.

Rhyswouldbetotallyfairifheblamedher,butinstead,hewastryingtomakeherfeelbetter.
Thatwasalsojustdeeplyunfair.
“Mate!”hesaidbrightlyintothephone,posturetenseevenashisvoicewasallcharmandease.“Heardyou’verunintoa
stickywicket.”

Stickywicket?shemouthedathim,andherolledhiseyes,shruggingasheshiftedinhischair
“No,no,notaproblematall,”Rhyswassayingevenashewasfranticallysearchingherdeskforsomething.
Vivihandedhimapadandpen,andhegaveherathumbs-upasheleaneddowntoscribbleacrossthepad.
“Icanabsolutelygetthatallsortedforyou,notaproblem.”
Forthenexttenminutes,VivisatatherdeskandwatchedasRhyssomehowtransformedfromthelouche,carefreecharmershe
knewintothemostcompetentmanontheplanet.

Phonecallsweremade.Noteswerewrittenout.Morephonecalls,andthenseveralemails.Atonepoint,herolleduphissleeves
andsatthereacrossfromher,phonepressedtohisear,elbowsrestingonhiswidelyspreadthighs,andVivinearlyswooned.

Whenhewasfinallydonewithallhiscallsandemailsandtextsandwhoknewwhatelse,Rhysfloppedbackagainstthechair,
slouchingsolowthathisheadrestedagainstthebackofit,andVivididnottakeaflyingleapfromherchairtostraddlehislap,whichreallyshowedalotofrestraintonherpart,shethought.

Still,somethingmusthaveshowninherfacebecausehelookedathercuriously.
“What?”
Shakingherhead,Viviclearedherthroatandreachedfortheleastsexythingshecouldthinkof,acopyofhersyllabus.
“Nothing.”Chapter17
“Aghost,”Gwynsaid,lookingbackoverhershoulderatVivi.TheywereatSomethingWicked,butGwynhadhunguptheclosedsignassoonasViviwalkedin,andwasnowrestockingtheshelvesofleatherjournalsandgrimoires.

Nodding,Vivileanedherelbowsonthecounter.“Aghost.”
“TheCasperkind.”
Vivishookherhead.“Wayscarierthanthat,trustme.”
Asbrieflyasshecould,shetoldGwynaboutwhathadhappenedatthelibrary,adding,“Butthebiggerproblem—”
“There’sabiggerproblemthanafreakingghost?”
“Mmm-hmm.Thecollegewitchesareinvolvednow.”
NowitwasGwyn’sturntorollhereyes.“Thoseweirdos.”
ThewitcheswhoworkedatPenhavenhadalwayskeptthemselvesapartfromViviandherfamily,probablybecausemostofthem
weretransplants,and,Vivisuspected,becausetheydidn’tlikethestore.Lordknewthey’dneversetfootinit.Theywere
tooserious,tooacademicaboutmagicforthatsortofthing.

Theirloss,Vivithoughtasshestudiedapileofcrystalsheapedonpurplevelvetthereonthecounter.“Anyway,theywantusto‘fixthis,’which,Imean,same.”
Gwynsnorted.“Tellthemaboutthecurse.You’llhaveafifty-pagepaperoncursesbynextweek,butprobablynoactualsolution.”
“Rhyssaidwewerebeingsnobs.”
Gwynhootedatthat.“Ohmygod,aPenhallowWitchBoycallinganyoneasnobisrichasfuck.Andtellhimtheywererudetomymomfirst.”

“Itried,”Vivisaid,“butIdidn’twanttoactuallygetintoallofit,youknow?ThelessRhysandItalk,thebetter.”
Shedidn’taddthatwhentheyweren’ttalking,theywerekissing,whichwasaproblemallitsown.
Vivihonestlycouldn’tbelieveithadhappenedatall.Evennow,itseemedlikeadream,orlikesomethingthathadhappened
tosomeoneelse.Surelyshehadn’tbeensocompletelystupidastomakeoutwithRhysas…what?Adare?Abet?

Thisiswhyshe’dendedupinthiswholesituationinthefirstplace.Shewasnormallyacompletelyrationalandcalmperson,
andRhysPenhallowmadehertotallylosehermind.Whichiswhytheyhadtobreakthecurseandsendhimonhiswayassoon
aspossiblebeforeshedidsomethingtrulynutslikesleepwithhim.

Again.
Gwynfinishedherarrangingandturnedaround,brushingherhandsoffonherthighs.“Well,”shestarted,“Momisgonnabe
thrilled—”

Shebrokeoffsuddenly,staringhardatVivi.
“What?”
Narrowinghereyes,Gwynleanedoverthecounter,gettingcloser.“VivienneJones.WhathappenedwithyouandRhystoday?”
“Nothing,”Viviimmediatelysaid,butthefactthatshecouldliterallyfeelherselfturnpinkdidn’texactlybackherup.
AndGwynknewit.Squealing,sheclappedherhands.“Didyoubanghiminyouroffice?”
“What?No!”
“Inthelibrary?”
“No,”Vivisaid,pushingoffthecounterandsuddenlytakingalotofinterestinthedisplayoftarotcards.“Therewaszero
banging.”

Whichwastrue.SheandRhyshadn’tdoneanythingmorethankiss.Technically
Butiftheyhadn’tbeeninterrupted?
Vivihadneverbeenoneforsexinpublic,butshe’dforgottenthatRhyscouldmakeherfeellikethat,likeshe’ddieif
shedidn’thavehimrightthatsecond.Likeherskinwastootight,andhiswastoofaraway,likeshewantedtocrawlinside
him.

Andthat’swhyhewasdangerous.She’dforgottenherselfoncewithhim,andlookwhathadhappened.
“Girl,ifyourkissinghimcanmakeyoumakethatface,Ihavetosay,I’mlesssurprisedyouweresodevastatedwhenthe
twoofyoubrokeup.Thewholecursethingactuallymakesalotmoresensenow.”

“Ha-ha,”Vivirepliedbeforecoveringherfacewithherhandsandgroaning.“Itwasjust…suchanintenselystupidthingtodo.”
“Sweetie,again,youwerenineteenandreallyupset,and—”
“Notthat.Imean,yesthat,that’swayupthereonthestupidmeter,butImeantkissinghimtoday.Itjustcomplicatesthings.”
“How?”
WhenVivijustlookedather,Gwynliftedbothherhands.“No,I’mserious.How?You’renotnineteenanymore.You’renotthinking
he’sgonnabetheoneandplanningtomarryhimonahillsidecoveredwithbunnies.”

“Bunnies?”
“Staywithmehere.You’reanadultwomangoingthroughastressfultimeinherlife,andnowyourhot-as-hellexisback
intownandwantstokissyourfaceoff.Isaysmoke’emifyougot’em,babe.”

Vivicouldn’thelpbutsmile,curlingherfingersaroundoneofthecrystalsonthecounter.“That’salwaysbeenyourphilosophy,
Gwyn,butit’snotmine.”

“Butitcouldbe,”Gwyninsisted.“Andwhynot?”
Vivirealizedshedidn’treallyhaveananswerforthat.
Thatkisstodayhadbeengood.Reallygood.
Whyshouldn’tshedoitagainifshewantedto?
TheravenoverthedoorsquawkedandViviandGwynbothturnedtoseeRhyswalkin.He’dchangedsincethemorning,although
hewasstillinhisusualjeansandsweater,thisonegreen,andVivihadtobitebackasighatthesightofhim.

Gwyncaughtit,though,shootingVivialookassheturnedtofinishstockingtheshelves.“Hi,dickbag,”shecalledout,andRhysliftedonehand.
“Lovelytoseeyou,too,Gwyn.IassumeViviennetoldyouaboutourencounterthismorning?”
Vividroppedthecrystalonthefloor,thesoundsurprisinglyloudinthequietstore,andGwyn’ssmilewhenshelookedover
hershoulderwasdownrightgleeful.

“Oh,shetoldme.”
“Gwyn,”Vivihissed,butRhysseemedunbotheredashestrolledovertothecounter.

“Havetosay,neverthoughtI’dactuallyseeaghost,”hecontinued,andVivirolledhereyesatherself.
Ofcourse.Hewastalkingabouttheghost,notwhathadhappenedbetweenthetwoofthem.
Butthen,ashesettlednexttoher,restinghiselbowsonthecounter,shethoughtshesawthecornerofhismouthkickup
slightly.

“Icanthinkoffewthingsmoredepressingthanhauntingalibrary,”Gwynsaid.“Atleastifyou’reinagraveyardorsomething,
there’sstufftodo,youknow?Anaesthetictomaintain.Butstuckinalibrarybecauseyouforgottopayafinein1994or
something?Thatsucks.”

“Ithinkshewaslookingforsomething,”Vivisaid,tryingtoignorehowcloseRhyswastoher,howgoodhesmelled.Hadhe
showeredafterthelibrary?Hemusthave.Ormaybehejustsmelledgoodallthe—

Okay,shewasgoingtohavetogetafreakinggrip.
Clearingherthroat,Vivipushedawayfromthecounter.“Alsoweirdthatshejustshowedupnow.”
“That’sbecauseofthecurse,right?”Gwynasked,comingoffherladder.
Rhysnodded,turninghisbodyslightlytofaceVivi.“Ortheleylines,tobespecific.”
“Whatelsecouldthecursedleylinesdo?”Gwynasked,frowningasshestudiedthetwoofthem.“Demontoys,ghosts…”
“Wedon’tknow,”Viviadmittedonasigh.“Andthat’stheissue.Allmagicinthetownhasgonehaywire,and…random.
Soanythingcouldhappen.”

Shethoughtagainaboutthefranticfaceofthelibraryghost,thewayhereyeshadmovedrestlesslyovertheshelves.She’d
lookedconfusedandscared,andthatwas…herfault.

Hercursehaddonethat.
Acurseshewasnoclosertobeingabletobreak.Chapter18
Afterthedayhe’dhad,Rhysneededcaffeine,andsincethecoffeeshopwasjustdownthewayfromSomethingWicked,he’d
suggestedheandViviennegograbacuppa.

Astheymadetheirwaythere,hehadtoadmitthatGravesGlenwasaprettyplace.Thesunwassettingbehindthelowmountains
thatsurroundedthetown,turningtheskyadeeppurple.Thelightsstrungbetweenthestreetlampstwinkled,andinevery
storewindow,therewassomecharmingdisplay—apileofpumpkins,cardboardwitchesonbroomsticks,morefairylights.

“It’slikebeinginasouvenirpostcard,”Rhyssaid.“‘GreetingsfromHalloweentown.’”
Viviennechuckledatthat,crossingherarms.“Noargumentsthere.”
“Iseewhyyoulikeithere.”
“It’sdefinitelyagoodplacetobeawitch.Evenasecretone.”
“Technicallywe’reallsecretwitches,”Rhyssaid,“butIunderstandyourpoint.”
Thenighthadgonecoolaroundthem,butthesweet,softsortofcoolthatcomesonperfectautumnnightsasopposedtotheunnaturalcoldofthelibrary.Walesgotthesenights,too,butearlierintheseasonandnotusuallyquitethismild.
Still,ashewanderedthecobblestonestreetswithVivienne,Rhysfeltanoddlongingforhomesettleintohisbones.Vivienne
belongedinthissetting,fittingasperfectlyasajewel.

Wheredidhebelong?
Notwantingtofollowthatparticularlymaudlintrainofthought,RhysnudgedViviennewithhiselbowandsaid,“Sohowexactly
doesitworkhere?Thesecretwitchthing.Especiallywiththecollege.Youcanspototherwitches,right?”

Shrugging,Viviennetuckedastraylockofhairbehindoneear.“Usually.Andhonestly,it’snotashardtokeepasecret
frompeopleasyou’dthink.Lotsofpeopledabbleinwitchcraftnow,soit’snotexactlyweirdtohaveaninterestinthat
kindofthing.”

“Orrunashop,”Rhyssaid,andshenodded.
“Orthat.”
“Buttheotherstudentsatthecollegestilldon’tknowthey’regoingtoschoolwithwitches,right?”
“Right,”Vivienneconfirmedastheycametothecoffeeshop.Likeeverystoreorrestaurantalongthisstripofmainstreet,
itwasdecoratedforHalloween,littlepumpkinsstucktothefrontwindow,andagarlandoflightsthatlookedliketinycauldrons
drapingthedoor.

Astheysteppedinside,Rhysheldthedooropenforafamilywithababyswaddledupinastroller,smilingdownatthebabblinginfantastheypassed,andwhenhelookedbackup,Viviennewaswatchinghimwithastrangelookonherface.
“What?”heasked,butsheonlyshookherheadandgesturedtowardthecounter.
“Tea?”
“Tea,”heconfirmed.
Oncetheyhadordered—basicEnglishbreakfastforRhys,somethingwithhoneyandlavenderforVivienne—theymadetheirway
toaboothneartheback,andRhyswassuddenlyveryawareofhowcozythissettingwas,how…intimate.

“So.”
“So.”
Theysattherewiththeirsteamingmugsofteaonthetable,butneitherofthemmadeamovetodrink.Instead,Rhyslooked
atVivienne,andViviennelookedeverywherebutathim,herfingerstwistingthefingerlessglovesshewaswearingnervously,pullingattheedgesuntilRhyswasafraid
theymightunravel.

Hereachedoutandcoveredoneofherhandswithhisown,anddammitall,eventhroughthewoolofhergloves,evenwithhis
palmonlybarelytouchingthebareskinofherknuckles,hefeltthetouchallthewaydowntothesolesofhisfeet,hisskinlightingupwithawarenessofher.

“Ithinkweneedtotalkaboutthelibrary.”
Shewasalreadyshakingherhead,goldenhairspillingoverhershoulders.“No.No,no,no,no.Wedon’t.That’sathingthat
innowayneedstalkingabout.”

“Vivienne.”
“Itwasstupid,anditwasjustakiss,”shewenton.
Heraisedhiseyebrows.“Justakiss?Really?”
AflushcreptupVivienne’sneck,butshedrewherhandoutfromunderneathhisandrepeated,“Justakiss.”
RhyshadnotknownVivienneallthatlonginthegrandschemeofthings,butherecognizedthelookonherfacenow.This
wasaclosedsubject,andpushingheronitwasn’tgoingtogethimanywhere.

Soheslidhisownhandsbackacrossthetable,restingthemontheedgeanddrumminghisfingersashelookedaroundhim.
“Busyplace.”
Clearlyrelievedatthechangeinsubject,Viviennenoddedandpickeduphermugoftea.“It’salwayspacked.We’relucky
wefoundatable.”

Leaningforward,Rhysgaveasubtlejerkofhisheadtothebarista,ashortgirlwithbrightturquoisehairandapairof
heavy-rimmedglasses.“Witch?”heaskedquietly,andViviennedidn’tevenglanceovertoseewhohewastalkingabout.

“Yup.Theyonlyemploywitcheshere.Usuallystudentsfromthecollege.It’spartofwhatkeepsthingsrunningsosmoothly
inhere.There’ssomekindoflightenchantment,meansordersnevergowrong,nooneeverdropsaglass,thatkindofthing.”

Herwordsseemedtodawnonthembothatthesametimeand,slowly,theybothlookeddownattheirteas.
“So.Magichelpsrunthisplace.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Andmagicis…badnow.”
“Maybeithasn’taffectedthisplace?”
HecouldseeViviennesteelingherselfasshepickeduphermug,andhealreadyhadahandout,hernameonhislipsasshe
closedhereyes,jerkilyliftedthemugtoherlipsandtookabiggulp.

Theybothsatthere,frozen,assheswallowedandthen,tohismassiverelief,smiled,herhazeleyesbright.“It’sfine,”
shesaid,settingthemugbackdown.“Totallynormaltea,nodisastermagicafoot.”

Rhystookasipofhisowntea,andshewasright—ittastedfine,andtherewasnohintofmagicinitatall.“Right,”he
said,andthenlightlytappedhermugwithhisown.“Somaybethisplaceescapedthecur—”

Theshatteringofglasswarecuthimoff,andRhyshadahorriblepricklingsensationonthebackofhisneckasheslowly
turnedtolooktowardthesourceofthenoise.

There,bythedoor,anentiretablehadbeenturnedover,glassesandmugslyinginpiecesonthefloor,andamidallthat
brokenglasswasabody.

Rhyswasonhisfeetalmostwithoutthinking,crossingovertowhereaman,anolderguyinkhakisandloafers,layonthe
floor,thefingersofonehandstillcurledlikehewasholdingamug,hisfacelockedinarictusofsurprise.

“He’sbreathing,”Viviennesaid,appearingbyRhys’sside,herfingerspressedagainsttheman’swrist.“Andhispulseis
fine.He’sjust…”

“Frozen,”Rhysfinishedgrimlyashetookinthewide,staringeyes,thehalf-openmouth.
Andthenhenoticedthemugtheguyhadbeenholdingwaslyingonthefloornexttohim,itscontentsspreadingslowlyacross
thehardwoodfloor.

TheremightnothavebeenanymagicinvolvedinRhysorVivienne’steaearlier,butthereclearlywasinwhateverthisman
hadbeendrinking.Rhyscouldpracticallyseethespell,hoveringlikeamiasmaoverthespilledliquid,andthenhelooked
backtowardthebar.

ThewomanViviennehadpointedoutastheownerwasonthephone,lookingbackandforthbetweenthemanandthecrowdof
onlookers,buttherewasnothinginherfaceexceptconcern.Noguilt,nofear.

Thenhiseyesslidtotheright,towherethegirlwiththeturquoisehairstood,armsfoldedtightlyaroundherbody,her
lowerlipcaughtbetweenherteeth.

AndwhenshesawRhyslookingather,shegavealittlejumpbeforeopeningthedoorbehindthebaranddisappearinginto
thestoreroom.

“Vivienne,”Rhyssaidinalowvoice,nudgingher,butshewasalreadystandingup,hereyesonthespotwherethegirlhad
vanished.

“Isaw.”
Outside,therewasthedistantwailingofsirens,butthemanwasalreadystartingtostiralittle,hiseyelidsfluttering,andRhysassumedwhateverthespellwas,itwasn’tstrongenoughtolastlong.
Smallmercy,that.
Ashestoodup,Viviennemovedclosertohimandthetwoofthemwereabletoslipbackintothecrowdofpeoplegathered
aroundtheguy.Astheambulancepulledupoutside,theowneroftheshopputherphonebackinherpocketandhurriedover,
leavingthecounteremptyandnoonepayingattentiontoanythingbuttheEMTscurrentlycomingin.

WhichmadeiteasyforRhysandViviennetoslipintothestoreroom.
UnlikethebackroomatSomethingWicked,therewasnothingmagicalaboutthisspace.Itwaslikethebackroomyou’dfind
inanycoffeeshopinanytown.Tallmetalshelvesstockedwithstacksofpapercups,bigsacksofcoffeebeansonthefloor
andseveralplasticcratesfullofmugs.

Rhyswas,honestly,alittledisappointed.
Thegirlwiththeturquoisehairwassittingononeofthosecrates,emptyandoverturned,herkneesdrawnupagainsther
chest,thetoesofherbootsturnedinandpressedtogether.

Assoonassheheardthedooropen,herheadshotup,andherdarkeyeslookedhugeinherpaleface.Anametagpinnedto
hershirtread,sam.
“Isheokay?”sheasked,andViviennenodded.
“It’salreadywearingoff,”Samsaid,andblewoutalongbreath,hershoulderssagging.“Okay,good.”
“Doyoumaybewanttotelluswhatyoudidtohisdrinktomakehimlikethat?”Rhysasked,andwhenshelookedupathimnow,someofhersardoniccoolhadreturned.
“It’sabespokespell,”Samsaid,sittingupstraighter.“Youwouldn’tknowit.”
“Hipstermagic,excellent,”Rhysmuttered,rubbingahandoverthebackofhisneck.Hadhebeenlikethisasayoungwitch?
Allarrogantandsosureofhisabilities?

Stupidtoevenwonderit,really.Heknewhehadbeen.
Nexttohim,Viviennedrewherselfupalittlebittaller.“Whatwasitsupposedtodo?”
“AreyoutwotheMagicPoliceorsomething?”Samasked,scowling,andRhysshovedhishandsintohispockets,rockingback
onhisheels.

“No,prettysurethatdoesn’texist.Ifithad,Iwouldsurelyhavebeenarrestedatsomepoint.Justafellowwitch,trying
tofigureoutwhathappenedinthere.”

Hejerkedhisthumbbacktowardtheshop,andsomeofthegirl’sconfidencefaded,hereyesdartingtowardthedoor.
“It’sstupid,”shemuttered,andRhysshrugged.
“Lotsofthingsinlifeare.Sowhatwasthespell?”
SamtuggedatthehemofherT-shirt,notmeetingRhys’seyes.“Hewantedapotiontomakehim,uh.Youknow.”Shemadea
weirdgesturewithherhands,liftingherpalmsupandthenflailingherhandsinthegeneraldirectionofRhys’slap.“Like
Viagra,”shefinallysaid.“Butmagic.”

Rhyswasveryproudofhimselffornotbetrayingtheslightestbitofsurpriseoramusementoverthis.Truly,hedeservedamedal.Possiblyaparade.
Asitwas,hejustclearedhisthroatandsaid,“Right.”
“Ifiguredouthowtomakethatkindofspellasajoke,”shewenton,“butthenIgaveittosomeonewhoaskedforit,and
hetoldafriend,Iguess,andhetoldsomeoneelse,andnowIgetthesedudescominginhereafewtimesaweekforit.But
it’sneverdonethat.”

“Sowait,”Viviennesaid,steppinginfrontofRhysandfoldingherarmsoverherchest.“You’vebeenwhat?Dealingpotions?”
Samrolledhereyes.“Okay,thatmakesitsoundsupershady.It’snotdealing,it’sgiving.”

Vivienne’seyebrowsrose.“Youjustgivethepotionsaway?”
Makingafrustratedsound,Samwavedonehand.“Duh,no.Ichargeforthem.Ahundredbucksapop,moreifthepotioniscomplicated
ortheingredientswereexpensivetoget.”

Hersmugexpressionwavered.“Oh,wait,Iguessthatisdealing.Huh.”Sheshrugged.“Anyway,yes,Ihaveaharmlesssidegigdealingpotionshere.”

ThensheglaredatVivienne.“Out-of-statetuitionisn’tcheap,lady.”
“Pointnoted,”Rhysreplied,movingalittleclosertoVivi’sside,“butyourealizethatwhatyouweredoingwasdangerous,
right?Potionsarenotsomethingtomessaroundwith.”

“Yeah,well,usuallytherearen’tanyissues,andI’dnevermakeanythingthatwouldhurtsomeone.We’retalkingthelightestmagichere.Apotiontomakeyoureyelinerlastallday.Onethatmakessureyou’realwaysontimefortwenty-fourhours.”ShelookedupatRhys,pushingherglassesupthebridgeofhernose.“Thatoneisgoodforfinalsweek.Makessureyoudon’toversleep,butdoesn’tdoanythingscarylikemakeyoustayawakefordaysorsomething.Tooksometweaking,but—”
“Sam,we’redefinitelyimpressedwithyourskills,butyoucan’tmakepotionsandsellthemtopeople.It’sdangerousand
ifthecollegefoundout,you’dbeinserioustrouble.”

AllofSam’sbravadopoppedlikeasoapbubble,andRhysrealizedjusthowyoungshewas.Nineteen,maybetwenty.Sameage
asheandViviennehadbeenthesummertheymet.

Christ,hehadn’trealizedjusthowyoungtheywereuntilthatagewassittingrightinfrontofhim,lookinglikeshe’dbeen
senttothebloodyheadmaster’soffice.

“You’renotgoingtotellthem,areyou?”sheasked,turningherbeseechinggazeonVivienne.“Iknowyouworkthere.With
thenormies,notus,but—”

“I’mnot,”Viviennesaid.“Solongasyoupromisemeyou’llneverdoitagain.”
“Ipromise,”Samsaidquickly,holdinguponehand,thesilverringsstackedonherfingersflashinginthefluorescentlights.
“Trustme,Idon’twantanythinglikethistoeverhappenagain.”

Shegotupthen,dustingherhandsonherapronbeforeadjustingherbeanie,onlytopause,chewingonherlowerlipagain.
“It’sjust…Ireallydon’tthinkitwasmypotion.Ididn’tdoanythingdifferent.EventhephaseofthemoonwasthesamewhenIbrewedit.”Sheflashedthemacheekygrin.“Alwaysmakethatoneonthewaxingmoon.Becauseofthewhole‘growing’—”
“Right,”Rhyssaid,cuttingheroff.“We’vegotthat,thanks.”
“Pointis,”Samwenton,“somethingwentwrong,butitwasn’tmymagic.”Sheshookherhead.“It’slikemagicisoffallovertheplace.Todaysomeofthenormiekidswanderedintooneof
myclassesonherbmagic,andthat’sforsurenotsupposedtohappen.”

Rhysfeltaheadachebuildingatthebaseofhisskull.Curse,ghosts,nowbadpotions.Hethoughtagainaboutthoselines
ofmagicsnakingoutofthecave,racingtowardthetown,andwishedhecouldgobackintimeandkickhimselfrepeatedly
inthehead.

He’dknownsomethingwasoff.He’dfeltit.
And,asusual,he’dignoredthingslike“self-preservation”and“commonsense,”anddecidedtojustdoitanyway.
Andnowlookwheretheywere.
“Maybeholdoffonthemagicforalittlewhile,”Viviennesuggested,comingforwardtotouchSam’sarm.Shelookedastired
asRhysfelt,andhehadtofighttheurgetoresthishandagainstherlowerback,topullherinclosertohimandlether
restherheadonhisshoulder.

Samscoffedatthat.“‘Holdoff’?”sheechoed.“That’slikeaskingmetoholdoffonbreathing.Iknowyoudon’tgetthat
sinceyou’renotawitch—”

“Iamawitch,”Viviennesaid,steppingback,andSam’sfacecreasedinconfusion.
“Wait,seriously?Butyouteachthenormalclasses.”
“Right,because—”
“And,like,obviouslythisdudeismagic,”Samwenton,pointingtoRhys,“youcantell,butyouare?Seriously?”
RhyssawVivienneswallowhard,andforatleastthethousandthtime,Rhyswishedthatmind-readingwereoneofhisabilities.
Ofcourse,thewaythingsweregoingrightnow,he’dprobablybeabletoheareverystraythoughtofapersonwithinahundred-mile
radiusandlosehisbloodymind,butitmightbeworththerisktoknowwhatwasgoingonbehindVivienne’sbrighthazeleyes.

Hershoulderswentbackalittle,chinlifting,andshesaid,“Anyway,stillawitch,stillthinkyouneedtobecarefulwith
yourmagicwhilethingsareoutofsorts.”

SamwasstilllookingatViviennelikeshecouldn’tbelievewhatshewashearing,hereyeswide,herlipsslightlyparted.
“Imean,IknewyouwererelatedtothepeoplewhorunSomethingWicked,butseriously,Ithoughtyouwerejust—”

“Soyou’vesaid.”RhyscutheroffasVivienne’seyesbegantonarrow.He’dbeenonthereceivingendofthatlook,andwanted
tosaveSamfromherself.

“Ms.Joneshereisright,”Rhyswenton.“Holdoffonthemagicuntilthingshavesettleddownabit.”
“Butwhyaretheyallfuckedupinthefirstplace?”thegirlasked,andVivienne’sfacegotthatslightlymurderyexpressionagainthathadRhyssteppinginfrontofher.
“Theyjustare,”hesaid.“Butwe’refixingthem.”
Hewishedthatwereactuallytrue.Sofar,they’dbeenatthisfornearlytwenty-fourhours,andalltheyhadtoshowfor
itwaseyestrainandpossiblystraybitsofectoplasminhishair.

Samscowledatthat,butallthesameshemuttered,“Fine,”beforeslippingpastthemandbackoutintothecafé.
Sighing,Rhysnearlyfloppedagainstatallmetalshelf,almostupsettingastackofpapercups,andViviennemovedacross
toleannexttohim.Foramoment,theyweresilent,bothoftheirmindswhirring.

“Hard,”Viviennemurmuredtoherself,andRhysblinkedather.
“Begpardon?”
Startled,Vivienneglancedoverathim.“Oh,um.Iwasjustthinking.That’s…that’swhereherpotionwentwrong.The
spellwassupposedtomakehim…youknow,anditdid,butitwas…anall-overeffectinsteadof…region-specific.”

“VivienneJones,areyoublushing?”
Shepushedoffoftheshelfwitharollofhereyes,buthesawthewayherhandsfidgetedwiththeendsofherglovesagain.
“Definitelycould’vebeenworse,”shesaid.

“DoyouseenowwhatIwassaying?”Rhysasked,steppingclosertoher,closeenoughthathecouldseethelittleconstellation
offrecklesonherrightcheek,closeenoughtotouchherifhewantedto.

Whichhedid.
Buthewouldn’t.
“Wecan’tkeepputtingouttheselittlefires,Vivienne.Wehavetofixthis.”
“Iknow,”shesaid,herheadsnappingup.
Andthensheloweredhervoice,duckingherhead.“Halloweenishugeinthistown.Thebiggestmoneymaker,too.Someofthe
businessesinGravesGlenaresetfortheyearafterHalloween.Andifwehaven’tfixedthisbythen,itmightnotbesafe.
Wecan’triskthat.”

“Alsoslightlyconcernedaboutmebeingsafe,”Rhyssaid,“butIseeyourpoint.Luckily,magictendstobeatitsstrongestaroundSamhain.Andthatmeans
thatifweworkquickly,anykindofcursereversalmightworkstronger.”

“Ilikewhereyourheadisat,Penhallow,”Viviennereplied,pointingathim,andRhysbrightened,smilingather.
“Didyoujustcallmebymylastname?Likewe’reonsomekindofsportsteamtogether?”
Tohissurprise,sheactuallysmiledalittleatthat.“Inawayweare,right?Breakingacursehasdefinitelyturnedout
tobealotmore…athleticthanI’danticipated.”

“Hikingacrosscampus,”Rhysnoted.
“Fightingghosts,”Vivienneadded.
“Snogginginlibraries…”
Atthat,hersmiledimmedandshestraightenedup,movingbackfromhim.
“Thatwasamistake,”shesaid,andRhysshovedhishandsinhispockets.
“Wasit,now?”
Sheturnedbacktohim,meetinghiseyes.Noblushnow,nofidgeting.“Youknowitwas.”
WhatRhysknewwasthatkissingherhadfeltlikewakingup.Likehe’dbeendriftingsleepilythrougheverythingforthepast
nineyearsuntilhetastedhermouthagainandrememberedwhatactuallybeingalivefeltlike.Betterthananymagic,Vivienne’s
kiss.

Andhedidn’twanttogowithoutitforanothernineyears.
“We’readults,”heremindedher.“Notkidsfurtivelysneakingintodormroomsanymore.”
“Whichiswhyweknowbetterthantocomplicatethingsrightnow,”Viviennesaid,eminentlysensibleand,muchasRhyshated
toadmitit,completelyright.

Hewasleavingwhenthiswasover.
Shewasstaying.
Whattheyhadwasnotthekindofthingthatworkedinalong-distancesense,andhell,forallheknew,alltheyhadwas
intensephysicalchemistrythatwouldburnitselfout.

Itdidn’tburnitselfoutovernineyears,thebastardpartofhisbrainremindedhim.Doyoureallythinkit’sgoingtonow?Chapter19
Thenextafternoon,Vivisatinheroffice,pretendingtomakelecturenotes.
Intruth,shewasstaringattheblinkingcursoronhercomputerandthinkingaboutkissingRhyswhilealsowishingshe’d
neverbroughthimtoheroffice.Thiswasherspace,averydecidedlyRhysPenhallow–freespace,andnoweverytimeshelookedatherbookshelf,shesawhimstandingthere,
studyingherbooks,askingherquestions,actuallyseeminginterestedinheranswers.

Whatabastard.
Buttheneverytimeshethoughtaboutkissinghim,sherememberedwhathadendedthatkiss,theghostinthelibrary,and
howshewassosureshe’dseenthatfacesomewherebefore.Howtheghosthadsoclearlybeenlookingforsomething,andhow
itallhadtoberelatedtothecursesomehow,buthow?

Soreally,itwasnowonderthatherlectureonthefunctionofthefeudalsystemconsistedofexactlytwobulletpoints,
oneofwhichjustsaid,“PEASANTS??”

Shakingherhead,Vivileanedoverherdeskandflippedtheswitchonherelectrickettle,hopingastrongcupofteamightgetherheadstraight.GwynandAuntElainehadgivenherthehot-pinkkettlelastYule,andshelovedit,butlovedtheteathey’dwrappedwithitevenmore.ItwasoneofAuntElaine’sownblends,andittastedlikemintandlicoriceandsomethingalittlesmokywhilealsohavingenoughcaffeinetopowerherthrougheventhemostheinousgradingsessions.
She’djustmadeherselfacupwhentherewasaknockatherofficedoor.
BrainstillfoggywiththoughtsofRhys,shealmostexpectedtoseehimstandingthere—orleaning,really.Rhysneverstood
whenhecouldlean.

ButthewomaninherdoorwaywasdefinitelynotRhys,andalsostandingstraighterthanVivihadeverseensomeonestand,
shewasprettysure.

Thewomanwasyoung,probablyVivi’sownage,andhaddarkhaircaughtbackfromherfacewithapairofcombs.
“VivienneJones?”thewomanasked,herexpressionfriendly,dimplesappearinginhercheeksasshesmiled.
“I’mAmandaCarter.”ShesteppedintoVivi’soffice,shuttingthedoorbehindher.“Fromthewitcherydepartment.”
Vivi’sspoonclangedagainstthesideofhermug.“Seriously?”sheasked.
Amandacouldn’thavebeenthirty,makinghereasilytheyoungestwitchVivihadeverheardofthewitcherydepartmenthiring.
Andshewaswearingjeans.
DidtheyletthemwearjeansontheWitcherysideofthings?Becauseifso,Viviwonderedifmaybesheshouldtransferafterall.
“DidDr.Arbuthnotsendyou?”sheasked,andAmandanodded.“Shedid,yeah.Aboutthewholeghostthing?”
Excellent
Gesturingatthechairinfrontofherdesk,Vivisaid,“Pleasehaveaseat.Tea?”
Raisingherchineversoslightly,Amandasniffedtheair.“Isthatoneofyouraunt’sblends?”
Surprised,Vivismiledalittle,movingtotheboxoftealeavesonthecornerofherdesk.“Itis.Shesellsitatthestore,
butthisoneisparticularlygood,Ithink.”

“Awesome,”Amandaenthused,andVivifelthermoodlift.SomeonefromtheWitchCollegewhosaid“awesome”andworejeans?
Whoknew?

ShemadeAmandaacupoftea,andhandeditoverastheotherwomanasked,“Howlonghaveyouworkedhere?”
Viviblewacrossthesurfaceofherteabeforeanswering.“Threeyears.You?”
“Afewmonths.”Amandagrinnedather.“Stillfindingmyfeet.”
“Ibet,”Vivisaid,andthenAmandareacheddowntowardthebagthatsatatherfeet.
“Soasyouknow,theghostofPiperMcBrideisrunningloose.”
“Right,”Vivisaid,rememberingtheghostinherflannelandConverse,pacingtheshelves.“Sorryaboutthat.”
Amandagaveheranothereasysmile,wavingahand.“Hey,shithappens.Andfromwhatthey’vetoldme,Piperwasarealmessbackintheday.Obsessedwithsomehistoryofthetown,tryingtosummonspirits…”
Vivifrowned.Dr.ArbuthnothadtoldherPiperhadbeeninvolvedindarkmagic,butshehadn’tknownitwasasummoning.That
wasawholedifferentballgame.Nowondershe’dendedupdead.

“Anyway,weboundher,butobviously,she’sunboundnow,sothetrickistocaptureheragain,”Amandacontinued.
“Howdowedothat?”
Sittingbackinherchair,Amandapulledacandlefromherbag.
“Howdoyoufeelabouthauntedhouses?”Chapter20
Rhyshadn’thadanyreallysolidplansforhisevening.Mostlyhe’dthoughtaboutsittingonthehorriblyuncomfortablecouch
hisfatherhadboughtforthisplaceanddrinkingabottleofredwine.Somewhereinthere,he’dplannedonmakingtimefor
bothsomehalf-heartedgooglingof“curseremoval,”andfeelingsorryforhimself,buthe’donlyjustopenedthebottleof
SyrahhecertainlyhopedSimonhadbeensavingforaspecialoccasionwhenhisphonebuzzed.

Vivienne.
Manythingswentthroughhisheadwhenhesawthatshewasaskinghimtomeethernearmidnight,givinghimjustanaddress,
andonly80percentofthemwerefilthy.

Clearly,hewasgrowingasahumanbeing.
Sohegrabbedhiscoat,pluggedtheaddressViviennehadgivenhimintohisphoneandhopedhisrentalcarwouldholdupthis
time.

Itdid,butwhenhecametoastoponadirtroadbarredbyametalgate,hekindofwishedhe’dblownatirenearthehouseandhadjustcalleditanight,gonebacktohisoriginalplans.
Viviennewasstandingbythegate,dressedallinblack,herhairpulledbackinatightFrenchbraid,andasRhysstepped
outofthecar,hetookinheroutfit,completewithblackleathergloves.

“Haveyoubroughtmeoutheretomurderme?”hecalled.“Becausethatprobablywouldsolveyourproblems,butIhavetosay,Iobjectonbothmoralandpersonalgrounds.”

Shakingherhead,shecamecloser,andRhyscaughtanotherwhiffofthatdamnablescent,sweetandheadyagainstthecrisp
andsmokyautumnevening.“We’regoingonakindof…quest.”

Forthefirsttime,Rhysnoticedthesatchelshehadstrappedacrossherchest,thetorch—flashlight,heremindedhimself—in
herhand.

“Acurse-breakingquest?”heasked,andshefrowned.
“It’scurse-related.”
Well,thatwaspromisingatleast.
Tappingtheflashlightsheheld,Rhysasked,“Don’ttrustyourlittleilluminationspell?”
Theflashlightblinkedon,andhecouldfinallyseeherfaceclearly.Herpupilswerehugeinthosehazeleyes,andshelooked
alittlepale.Nervous,too.

“Didn’tthinkitwasworththerisk.”
Reachingintohersatchel,shepulledanotherflashlightout,handingittohim.“Comeon.”
Withthat,sheturnedandheadedbacktowardthegate,vaultingherselfoverwithaneasethatshouldn’thaveturnedhimonnearlysomuch,butthen,hewasbecomingusedtofindingliterallyeverythingViviennediderotic.Walking,jumpingoverfences,likingpolkadots…allofitwasimmenselyappealing,andifRhystookabitofsatisfactionwhenhenoticedherowneyesglazeoveralittleasheplacedonehandonthegateandeasilyhoppedit,well…hewasonlyhuman.
Whichalsomeantthatthesecondhisfeetcrunchedonthedryleaveslitteringtheroad,ashiverofapprehensionracedup
hisspine.

Theywereinthemiddleofnowhere,inaforest,at—hecheckedhiswatch—11:47p.m.Thenightwassoblackitfeltlikeitwaspressinginonhim,andhestopped,catchingherelbowwithonehand.

“Allright,Ipridemyselfonbeingthesortofblokewhorollswiththepunches,butseriously.Wherearewegoing?”
Viviennenoddeduptheroad.“There’sahouseupthere.Well,acabin,really.SeveralofthewitchystudentsatPenhaven
haverenteditinthepast.”

Pausing,Viviennefiddledwithherflashlight,andRhysproddedherfootgentlywithhistoe.“Goon.”
Sheclearedherthroat.“IncludingPiperMcBride.Theghostwesawinthelibrary,andnowwehavetocatchher.”
Viviennewenttocontinuewalkingbackuptheroad,andRhyscaughtherelbowagain.
“I’msorry,didyousaywe’regoingtocatchaghost?”
Blowingoutabreath,Viviennethrewherhandsup.“Notcatch,exactly.Wejusthaveto—holdon.”
Shefishedinhersatchelagain,andRhyswonderedifitwassomesortofMaryPoppinsbag.Whatwasshegoingtopulloutofthatthingnext?Sword?Houseplant?
“Wejusthavetolightthis,”shesaid,andRhyssquintedatthesilvercandlesheheld.
“AEurydiceCandle?Wheredidyouevengetthat?”Rhyshadonlyseenoneoncebefore,inalockedcabinetinhisfather’s
library,andRhyswasprettysureSimonhadthreatenedhimwithbodilyharmifheevertouchedthething.Theywererareto
comeby,andthemagictheyusedwaspowerfulstuff.

“Amanda,”Viviennesaid,andwhenRhysjustkeptlookingather,sheshovedthecandlebackinherbag.“She’soneofthe
collegewitches.Dr.Arbuthnotsenthertomyofficewiththecandle.Apparently,allweneedtodoisgotoPiper’shouse,
findthespotwhereshekeptheraltarbackinthedayandlightthecandle.Thenthecandlewill—”

“Pullherspiritintoit,trappingitwithinthecandle,whichcanthenbelitsomewhereelse,releasinghermoresafely.”
“Right,”Viviennesaidwithanod.“Andthenthecollegewitchescanrebindher.”
Overhead,anowlhooted,andRhystiltedhisheadbacktostudythenightsky.Themoonwasnearlyfull,skeletaltreesreaching
upforthestars,theperfectnightforsummoningupevilghosts,andRhysknewdeepinhisgutthiswasaterribleidea.

“Whycan’ttheycomedoitthemselves?”heasked,andViviennesighed,pushingastraybitofhairoffherforehead.
“Ithastobeus.We’retheoneswhosetherfree,sowehavetocaptureher.Butthecandledoesallthework.Wejusthavetolightit,waitforherspiritto,youknow,get”—sheliftedahandandmadeakindofswoopingmotion—“suckedintoit,andthen,done!”
Shesmiledathim,possiblythefakestsmileRhyshadeverseeninhislife.“Easyaspie!”
“Youmeanoneofthosekindsofpiestheyusedtostufflivebirdsin,Itakeit?Becausenothingaboutthisstrikesmeas
particularlyeasy,Vivienne.”

“Amandasaiditwouldbe.”
“Oh,well,ifAmandasaiditwouldbe,thennoproblematall!Ouroldfriend,Amanda.”
Rollinghereyes,Vivienneturnedaway.“MaybeIshould’vecomeonmyown.”
“Maybeneitherofusshouldhavecome,andyoushouldhavetoldthatwitchtobuggeroff.Ithoughtyoudidn’tlikethecollege
witchesanyway.”

“Idon’t,”sheagreed,herbootscrunchingoverthedriedleavesastheymoveddeeperintotheforest,andRhysraisedhis
shoulders,tuggingatthecollarofhisjacket.Wasn’tthistheSouth?Wasn’ttheSouthsupposedtobewarm?

“ButAmandawasnice,andshewantedtohelp,andsinceit’smyfaultthisghostisout—”
“It’sourfault,”hesaid.“Thisentirethingisverymuchadisastercausedbytwo,Vivienne.”
Shestoppedthen,turningaroundagain.“Well,ifit’syourfault,too,thenmaybeyoushouldstopwhiningabouthelping.”
“I’mnotwhining,”heinsisted,butthenrealizedthatitwasalmostimpossibletosaythatsentencewithoutsoundinglikeyouwerewhining,soheclearedhisthroatandsaid,“Ijustthinkthatatatimewhen,ashasbeenestablished,
magicisonthefritz,maybelightingaEurydiceCandleisabadidea.”

“Ah!”Viviennepointedathim,butsinceshediditwiththehandholdingtheflashlight,Rhyswasmomentarilyblinded.
Hethrewahandupagainsttheglare,andVivienneimmediatelyloweredtheflashlight.
“Sorry.ButasIwassaying,ah!Ithoughtofthat,too.Butthereareloopholes.One,we’renotdoinganymagicourselves.
Nospells,norituals.Thecandleisdoingallthework,andtwo…”

Shecrookedafingerathim,andRhyswasdismayedbyhowquicklyhefeltthatgesturelikeatuginhischest.
Hefeltitlower,too,hiscockeagertofollowwherevershewanted,andRhysthoughtagainofthatkissinthelibrary,the
feelofherunderhishands,howquicklyshelitupforhim.

“Rhys,”Viviennesaid,andthendammitall,shecrookedthatfingeragain.“Comehere.”
Hewastrulyanidiot,justthemostbesottedwankerintheentireworld,becausetherewasthattugagain.
Keepinghishandsinhispocketsashewalkedovertoher,Rhysraisedhiseyebrows.“What?”
Placingonehandonhisshoulder,shelightlypushedhimafewstepstoherright,andthenlookedupathimwiththatsunshine
smile.

“Iforgottotellyou.AuntElainefiguredsomethingout.Thecurse?Itonlyexistswithinthetownlimits.ProbablybecausethemagiconlyfuelsGravesGlen.”
“Gryffudwasaveryspecificbastardfromallaccounts,sothatmakessense,”heacknowledged.
“Right,”Viviennesaid.“Andasofrightnow,weareofficiallytwo…no,threestepsoutsidethetownofGravesGlen.”

Withthat,sheliftedthehandonhisshoulderandwiggledherfingers.
Thatlittleballoflightshe’dconjureduphisfirstnightbackintownsprungtolife,andhoveredthere.Itdidn’timmediately
explodeintoaballofflamethattookhiseyebrowsoff,soRhysassumedshewasright.Thecursedidn’textendthisfar.

Thatwasareliefatleast.
“Now,comeon.Wehaveaghosttocatch.”
Aaaaandmomentofreliefover.
Theycontinueduptheroadforafewmoreminutes,thetreesgettingthicker,thepathnarrower,andwhileRhysdidn’thave
thesamesenseofforebodinghe’dfeltinthelibrary,hestillwishedhewereanywherebuthere.

Andthen,asthepathnarrowedevenfurther,Vivienne’sshoulderbrushedhis,andsuddenlybeingonaroadthroughthewoods,
headedtoahauntedhouse,wasnotreallythatbad.Maybehedidn’twanttobebackonhissofaalone.Maybehe—

“Oh,fuckmerunning.”
Rhyscametoasuddenstop,staringupatthehousethatsuddenlyroseupinfrontofhim.
Ifyoulookedup“hauntedhouse”online,hethought,thiswasthepictureyou’dget.Itlookedlikesomethingoutofeverybadhorrormoviehe’deverseen,andhewaslessafraidofghoststhanhewascatchingtetanusashetookinthecrookedsteps,theshutterslumpingfromonewindow,thefrontdoorhangingdrunkenlyonitshinges.
“Maybethelibraryneedsaghost,”Rhyssaid,studyingthehouse.“Maybewejustleaveitthere.Bitofcharacter,youknow?”
Nexttohim,Viviennesuckedinadeepbreath.“Wejusthavetogoinandlightacandle.Ibetwecanbeinandoutin,like,
threeminutes.”

“ThatisaboutfourminuteslongerthanIwanttobeinthathouse,”Rhysreplied,butthenhelookedather,sawhertug
herlowerlipbetweenherteeth,andknewtheyweren’tleavinguntilthiswasdone.

So,takingadeepbreathofhisown,Rhysheldouthishandtoher.“Let’sgocatchaghost.”Chapter21
Vivihadtoldherselfthattheinsideofthecabincouldnotpossiblybeanycreepierthantheoutside.Itwasprobablygoing
tobeoneofthosethingswhereallthecreepwasthereontheoutside,andinside,itwouldjustbeanempty,oldhouse.
Nothingallthatsinister.

InthefewmomentsshehadbeforeRhyspushedopenthefrontdoor,Viviletherselfreallybelievethat.
Andthentheysteppedintothefrontroom,and—
“Igrewupinanactualhauntedhouse,andthisisworse,”Rhyssaid.
“Wayworse.Imean,Ihaven’tseenyourhouse,butIbelieveit.”
Theinsideofthecabinhadbeenwallpaperedatonepointinwhathadprobablybeenaprettycharmingdamask,butnowitwas
fallingfromthewallsinsheets,revealingstainedandwarpedboardsbeneath.Mildewandmoldcreptalongtheceiling,and
inthecorner,therewasavelvetsetteethatappearedtoberotting,onelegmissing,aholeinthemiddlecushion.

Theotherfurniturewasinasimilarstateofdisrepair,mostofitcoveredinathickcoatingofdust,butthefloorwassurprisinglyclean,andViviglancedaround,wonderingifotherpeoplehadbeenherebefore.
Rhysseemedtobenoticingit,too,frowningashelookedaround,shininghisflashlightonaframedphotographtackedto
thewall.Piperwasinitwithacoupleofotherteenagers,allrockingaverymid-ninetieslook,standinginfrontofone
ofthebuildingsatPenhavenCollege.

“Well,atleastweknowwe’reintherightplace,”hesaid,andthenswungthebeamaroundtheroom.“Butwhyisthefloor
soclean?”

“Maybeshehadaspell,”Vivisuggested.“Somekindofcleaningspellthatsortofhungonaftershedied?”
Rhysshrugged.“Possible.Strangerthingshavehappened.”
Avoidingglassfromabrokenwindow,Vivimovedfartherintotheroom.Onefloorboardfeltmushyasshesteppedonit,creaking
ominously.

“So,”shesaid,swallowinghard.“Wejustneedtofigureoutwhereshehadheraltar,lightthecandle—”
“Andgetthefuckoutofhere.Withalacrity,”Rhysfinished,andVivinodded.
“Lotsofalacrity,yes.”
Luckily,thecabinwassmall.Therewasjustthefrontroomwithatinycloset,asmallroomthathadprobablybeenPiper’s
bedroomandakitchen,theappliancesoldandrustinginplaces.

Vivihadthoughtthebedroomwouldbetheirbestbet,buttheroomwascompletelyemptyand,unlikethefrontroom,coveredindust.Plustherewasnohintoflingeringmagicthere,noancientwaxstainsorsoot-markedwalls,allthethingsViviwould’veexpectedtofind.
Shecheckedthekitchennext,butlikethebedroom,itwasemptyexceptforanancienttableandchairsthathadhalfrotted,
thechairlittlemorethanapileofwood.

Rhyswasstillcheckingthelivingroom,squattingdownbythefireplaceandshininghisflashlightoverthecrackedbrick.
“I’mnotfeelinganything,”hesaid,andVivilookedathim,hisjeanstautoverhisthighs,hisshouldersbroadashepeered
upintothechimney,thebeamofherownflashlighthighlightingthesharpnessofhischeekbones,thelineofhisjaw.

“Um.Yeah.Me,neither,”shesaid,thenturnedawaybeforehecaughtherbasicallyoglinghim.
Shewasheretocatchaghost,prettymuchtheleastsexythingontheplanet.
Ofcourse,librarystudyroomsweresupposedtobeunsexy,too,andthey’dcertainlyproventhatwrong.
SheandRhysplusdimlylitsmallspacesclearlyequaledBadChoices,sothesoonershegotthisoverwith,thebetter.“There
hastobesomethingwe’remissing,”shesaid.“Maybe—”

Theyhearditatthesametime.
Footsteps.
Vivi’smouthwentdry,herkneessuddenlyfeelingalittlewateryasherstomachpitched.Seeingaghostinbroaddaylightinabuildingfullofpeoplehadbeenterrifyingenough.Havingoneappearhere,inthis,thesettingforoneofthosecheesyghosthuntershowsGwynlikedsomuch?
Vivishuddered.No,thankyou.
Rhysstoodup,clickinghisflashlightoff,andVivididthesame,alsoextinguishingherilluminationspell,andtheystood
thereinthedarkroom,onlylitbythemoon,listening.

Thefootstepswerecloser,butnowVivirealizedtheywereoutside.Shecouldheartheleavesandthepebblescrunchingon
thepathoutside,andaswhoeveritwasmovedcloser,sheheardthewhispersofwhatsoundedlikemorethanoneperson.

Breathingasighofrelief,VivilookedoveratRhys.Noghost,shemouthed,andhenodded,butthengesturedatthedoor.

Butwhoisit?hemouthedback,andVivimovedsilentlytowardthecrackedwindow,keepingintheshadowsasshepeeredintothedarkness.

Therewasjustoneflashlight,butitwasclearlytwopeoplemovinguptothehouse,leaningoneachother,theirheadsclose
together.Andthenasthemoonmovedoutfrombehindacloud,Vivigotagoodlookatoneoftheirfaces.

Youhavegottobekiddingme.
Shewhirledaround,hurryingawayfromthewindowasfastandasquietlyasshecould.
“It’soneofmystudents,”shehissedatRhys.“Hainsley.Who,bytheway,isfailingbecausehe’sacheater,and—”

“Maybefillmeinonthespecificslater?”Rhyswhisperedback.Henoddedatthefrontdoor.“That’stheonlywayout.Howdoyouwanttoplaythis?”
“Playthis?”Vivirepeated.ShecouldhearHainsleyandthegirlhewaswithgettingclosernow,thegirllaughing,Hainsley’s
voicealowmurmurinresponse.

“Look,thecleanfloormakessensenow,”Rhyssaid,hisvoicebarelyaudible.“Thisisobviouslyahookupspot,sodoyou
wanttopretendthat’swhywe’rehere,justbrazenitout?”

Viviblinkedathimevenassheheardthefrontgatecreakopen.“Theideaofmystudentsthinkingofmeasasexualbeing
isworsethanthemfindingoutI’mawitch.”

Rhysgaveafirmnod.“Fine.Thenwehide.”
Withthat,hegrabbedherhandandtuggedhertowardthelittleclosetoffthefrontroom,closingthedoorbehindthemjust
astheyheardfootstepsonthefrontsteps.

Vivi’sheartwaspoundinghard,herhandsshaking,andforasecond,shewassobusyfocusingonthefactthatthey’dalmost
gottencaughtskulkingaroundahauntedcabinbyHainsleyBarnesofallpeoplethatshedidn’trealizejusthowtinytheclosetwas.

AndhowcloseRhyswastoher.
Therewashardlyroomforthetwoofthem,Vivi’sbackagainstthewall,Rhyssoclosehe’dhadnochoicebuttoputhishands
onthewallbehindher.Itwaseitherthatorputthemonher,andherownhandswerepressedtightagainsthersidesbecause
she’dnearlygrabbedhiswaistasthedoorclosedbehindhim.

Rhysseemedtorealizeitatthesametime.Shecouldfeelhimsuckinabreath,hisbodyneatlypressedagainsthers,herbreastsagainsthischest,theirhipsaligned,eventheirkneestouching.
Andhismouth…
Rhysturnedhishead,soclosetoherthatVivi’slipsnearlybrushedhischeek,andthenshecouldfeelhislips,there,
nearhertemple.

“Sorry,”hebarelybreathed,andsheshookherhead.
“It’sfine.”Thewordswerelittlemorethanhermouthmoving,butheseemedtogetthemessageandrelaxedalittle,which
somehowbroughthimevencloser.

EventhoughVivicouldn’tseeanythinginsidethecloset,sheshuthereyes.
Okay.Okay,shecoulddothis.Maybetheywouldn’tstaylong.Maybeshewouldn’tbeputthroughthelivinghellofhearing
HainsleyBarneshavesexwithsomeone.

Thefrontdooropenedwithagroan,andViviheardbothHainsleyandthegirllaugh,thenshushoneanother,theirfeetloud
onthehardwoodfloor.

“Thisplaceiscertifiablygross,”thegirlsaid.
Soeverysoundfromoutsidetheclosetwascrystalclear.
Maybethecursedidworkouthere.

“IfyouthinkI’mgettingnakedinhere,you’reinsane,”thegirlcontinued,andVivifeltRhys’slipsquirkagainsthertemple.
Yes,Vivithought.It’ssogross.Don’tgetnakedinhere,pleasepleaseplease.
ButthenHainsleysaid,“Youdon’tthinkit’salittlehot?Doingitinahauntedhouse?”
RhysdroppedhisforeheadtothewallbehindViviwithwhatshewasprettysurewasasilentgroan.
“No,”thegirlsaid,butshewasgigglingagain,andthesilencethatfollowedwasthick.
WhenHainsleyspokeagain,hisvoicewaslower.“Comeon,Sara.It’llbeagoodtime,promise.”
Vivionlybarelymanagedtokeepfromsnorting,andshecouldtellRhysfeltitbecausehissmileagainsthertemplewidened.
“Youpromisedthatlasttime,anditlasted,like,twominutes,”Sarareplied,andRhysmovedhishandfrombehindVivito
brieflypressitagainsthischest,mimingafatalshot.

VivibitherliptokeepfromlaughingevenasshewassuddenlyveryawareofthebackofRhys’shandtherebetweenthem,
hisknucklesbrushinghercollarbone.Eventhoughshecouldn’tseehishand,hisfingers,shecouldpicturethemperfectly,
theelegantbonesofthem.

Youhavemusicianhands,she’dsaidtohimonce.They’dbeenlyinginthetinybedinherdormroom,Rhys’sfeethangingofftheendofthebed,the
sheetstickingtotheirsweatybodies.Vivihadbeendreamyinherpost-sexhaze,playingwithhisfingers,tanglinganduntangling
theirfingers,scratchinghernailsalongthebackofhishandashe’dstudieditinthecandlelight.

Pardonyou,madam,thesearesorcerer’shands,he’dreplied.Can’tplayasinglenote.
Andthenshe’dtakenthathandshe’dbeenplayingwithandurgeditunderthesheet,betweenherlegs,rightwhereshe’dwantedit,amovesoboldithadmadeherblush,butshe’ddoneitanyway.
Inthatcase,she’dsaid,Iknowaspellyoucouldcast.
Hehad.Overandoveragain.
Forahellofalotlongerthantwominutes.
HainsleyandSarawerestilltalking,butViviwasn’tlisteninganymore,andeventhoughRhyshadmadeitveryclearthat
hecouldn’treadhermind,shefeltlikehehadtoknowwhatshewasthinkingabout,whatshewasremembering.He’dgoneso
stillagainsther,hisbreathslowandeven,andwhenheduckedhishead,justtheslightestbit,hisnoseskimmedherjaw,
makinghershiver.

Justthat.Thelittlesttouch,andhernipplesstiffenedagainsthischest,herbreathcomingalittlefasteraseverynerve
inherbodycametolife.

Slowly,sheletherhandsunclenchfromhersides,restingthemtentativelyonhiships.
Rhystookitastheinvitationshe’dintendedhimto,pressinginevencloser.Noaccidentthistime,noawkwardness.This
wasdeliberate.Hewashardagainsther,andsheraisedonefootoffthefloor,wrappinghercalfaroundhis,tiltingher
hipsawayfromthewallasheloweredhishead,lipsdriftingovertheplacewhereneckmetshoulderandmakinghersqueeze
hereyesshuteventighter.

Onehandwasonherlowerback,theotherstillflatagainstthewallnexttoherhead,andtheystayedthatwayforalongmoment,thepressofhislipsnotfirmenoughtobeakiss,andVivihadtofighttokeepfromwhimperingashismouthslidupherneck,breathhotanddamp.
Herhandshadmovedupfromhishipstopressagainsthisback,theleatherofhisjacketcoolagainstherpalms,andhis
handwascuffedaroundthebackofhernecknow,buthestillhadn’tkissedher,andshewonderedifhe,likeher,wastelling
himselfthataslongasitwasjustthis,thesetouches,thisbarehintoflipsonskin,itwasn’tamistake.

Itwaseasytothinkthatinthedarkness,notabletoseehim,notbeingabletospeak.Easiertojusttouchandfeel.
Towant.
Then,fromoutsidethecloset,Viviheardathump.
Shewentstill,feltRhyslifthisheadfromherneckasHainsleysaid,“You’reright.Thisplaceprobablyistoofreakyto
getfreakyin.Wannaatleastexploreitorsomething?Seewhatothercreepystuffishere?”

VivicouldsuddenlyseeHainsley’sfaceashethrewopenthisclosetdoorandfoundhishistoryprofessor—thehistoryprofessor
whoseclasshewascurrentlyfailing—wrappedaroundsomerandomdude,herfaceflushed,herhairmussed.

No,thatwasnotabouttohappen.
ItwastimeforHainsleyandSaratogetoutofhere,andforhertogetonwiththisghostbusiness.
PushingatRhys’schestslightly,Viviindicatedthatheshouldmovebackasmuchashecould,andshewasgladhecouldsomehow
understandherwithoutseeingher.

Liftingherhand,Vivipressedherfingertipsagainstthesideofthecloset,herlipsmovingwithaverysimplespell.
ShereallyhopedAmandahadbeenrightaboutthembeingfarenoughfromthetownforthecursedmagicnottofuckeverything
up.

Therewasanotherthumpfromoutside,butthisonewaslouder,andViviheardSara’svoice,sharp.“Whatwasthat?”
Stillconcentratingonthespell,Vivienvisionedthatphotographonthewall,fixingherenergyonit,andthensheheard
thecrackoftheframehittingthefloor,glassbreaking,andSarashrieked.

“Iwannago!”shecried,andViviprayedthatHainsleywasn’tthekindofassholetotellheritwasnobigdeal,or,worse,
towanttoprovehismanhoodagainstaghost.

Justtobesafe,shesentanotherwaveofmagicouttothefrontdoorandhearditsnapbackonitshinge,slammingagainst
theoutsidewall.

Thistime,Sarawasn’ttheonlyonewhoshrieked,andViviinwardlypumpedherfistassheheardtwosetsoffootstepsthundering
outofthehouseanddownthepathbackintothewoods.

“Nicelydone,”Rhyssaid,hisvoicestilllow,andVivismiledinthedarkness.
“Ihavemymoments.”
“Youcertainlydo.”
Theywerealoneinthehousenow.Therewasnoreasonforthemtostillbeinthiscloset,closetogetherinthedarkness,
butneitherofthemwasmoving.

“Vivienne,”Rhyssaid,andVivicouldfeelhimsayhername,hisbreathmovingoverherlips.Hewasstillsoclose.Theywerestillsoclose.

Herotherhandreachedoutfortheoppositewalltosteadyherselfalittleasheloweredhishead.
Andthensheyelpedasherfingerstingled,almostlikeshe’dtouchedasocket.
“Whatisit?”Rhysasked,immediatelysteppingbackandturningonhisflashlight,pointingitatthewalltotheirright.
“Ithink,”Vivisaidasshelookedatthemarkingspaintedthere,“we’vefoundPiper’saltar.”Chapter22
Rhysknewheshouldbethrilledthey’dfoundwhattheywerelookingfor.Healsoknewitwasprobablystupidtofeelslightly
resentfulthat,yearsago,awitchhadmadeheraltarinasmallclosetwhere,decadeslater,Rhyshadcomeverycloseto
kissingagorgeouswomanbeforebeingthoroughlycock-blockedbysaidaltar,butitwasverylate,andhewasnotkissing
Vivienne,soPiperMcBridewasnowonhisshitlistformorethanjustthrowinghimacrossalibrary.

“Whywouldshekeepheraltarinhere?”Rhysaskednow,movingthebeamofhisflashlightovertherunesPiperhadpainted
allthoseyearsago.Someofthemherecognized,butotherswereunfamiliar.

“Guessingshehadpeopleinherlifewhodidn’tknowshewasawitch,”Viviennereplied,kneelingdownonthefloorandpressing
herfingerstothefloorboard.“Ormaybeitwasbecauseshewasdoingdarkmagic?”

Sittingbackonherheels,shefrowned.“Anyway,doesn’tmatter.Mainthingiswelightthecandle,trapher,thengetoutofhere.”
“Hear,hear,”Rhysmuttered,stilllookingattherunes.Therewassomethingsinisteraboutthem,especiallytheonesatthe
bottomofthewall,alldark,slashingmarksthathadn’tfadedafterallthistime.

Viviennehadpulledthecandleoutofherbag,andRhyswatchedassheaffixedittoasmallsilverholderbeforefishing
outapackofmatches.

Rhyswasn’tsureifshewasholdingherbreathasshelitthecandle,buthesureasfuckwas.Whyhadn’thetriedtotalk
heroutofthis?Heknewshefeltguiltyfortheghostinthefirstplace,butitwasn’therjobtodothis.Ifthecollege
witcheswantedthisghostcaught,theycouldbloodywelldoitthemselves.

Hewasleaningforwardtotellherthat—andpossiblyblowoutthedamncandle—whenthetemperatureintheclosetseemedto
dropbyagoodtendegrees.

Toolate,then.
“She’shere,”Viviennebreathed,thenlookedupathim.“Thatsoundedreallycreepy.Sorry.”
“Yes,itwasreallyyousayingatwo-wordphrasethatmadethisentiresituationunsettling.Before?Pleasantasadayin
thepark.”

Viviennelookedbacktothecandle,buthesawthecornerofhermouthquirkinsomethingclosetoasmile.
Butthen,astheywaitedandtheairjustkeptgettingcolder,Rhyswasawareofasortofhissingsound,likesomeonehadleftthegason,andasheturnedtolookbacktowardthefrontdoor,hesawwhatlookedlikemistsnakingunderneathit.
Itglowed,castingtheroominaneeriebluelightasitgatheredacrossthefloor,undulatingitswaytowardthem.
Thecoldwasalmostunbearablenow,andRhyscaughtVivi’selbow,helpinghertoherfeetastheybothsteppedoutsidethe
closet,watchingthemistgatherandcoalesce,spreadingupwarduntilthewaveringformofPiperMcBridefloatedinfront
ofthem.

Shelookedlesssubstantialthanshehadinthelibrary,and,goddessbepraised,shealsoseemedahellofalotlesspissed
off.

Instead,shejustseemedalittleconfused,hergazemovingrestlesslyoverwhathadbeenherhouse.
AsRhysandViviennewatched,littletendrilsofthemistthatmadeuptheghostofPiperMcBridebegantopeeloff,curling
towardthecandlelikesmoke,herformbecomingevenmoretransparent.

“Ithinkit’sworking,”Viviennebarelywhispered,andRhysnodded.
“Couldworkabitfaster,ifyouaskme.”
“I’msorrytheancientghost-summoningcandlemagicisnotimpressingyouenough,Rhys.”
“Ididn’tsaythat,Ijust—”
“Penhaaaaalllllllow.”
Hislastnamewaslittlemorethanasortofgarbledsigh,andrealfearraced,icyandpricklyhotallatonce,downRhys’s
spine.

Theghostcontinuedtoswayinplaceevenasmoreandmoreofherdriftedofftowardthecandle.Hereyeswerethesamepaleblueastherestofher,thepupilssolargetheynearlyabsorbedtheiris,andRhysfeltlikeshewaslookingthroughhim,notathim.
“CursedPenhallow,”Piperadded,herformbecomingevenwispier.“Cursedforwhatwastaken.”
“IthoughtIwascursedbecauseIwasafuckerneck,”RhysmutteredtoVivi,butshewasfrowningattheghost.
“Whatdoesthatmean?”sheasked.“Whatdidhetake?”
“Itwasneveryours,asshole,”theghosthissed.“Youtookit.”Shewascomingapartnow,herheadfloatingfarfromherneck,handsdriftingawayintospiralsofsmokethatdisappeared
intothecandle’sflame.

ItwasoneofthemostfrighteningthingsRhyshadeverseen,andViviennewassteppingclosertoit.
“Buthedidn’ttakeanything,”shesaid,herchinliftedasthespirit’sheadfloatedeverhigher.“Like,notevenmyV-card.”
“That’strue!”RhyssaidtoPiper.“AndI’mnotexactlyatakeranyway,moreofagiver,really.”
“She’snotinterestedinyoursexualprowess,Rhys,”Viviennesaid,nottakinghereyesofftheghost.“AndI’mnotsureshe’s
actuallytalkingaboutyou.”

ItwashardtoseewherePiperwaslookingnow,whatwithherheadnearlybrushingtheceiling,buttheghostopenedherjaw,
oneofthosebansheewailsspiralingoutevenasmoreandmoreofherwassuckedintothecandle,andRhysfoundhimselfmoving
closertoVivienne.

“Whatwaswrongmustberighted,whatwastakenmustberelinquished,”Piperhowled,andtheairsuddenlyfeltcharged,likelightningwasabouttostrike.

Andthen,withonemoreshriekandasounddisturbinglylikesomethinggoingdownadrain,therestofPiperwassuckedinto
theEurydiceCandle.

Theflamewaveredonce,twice,brieflyglowingblue.
Andthenwentout,leavingRhysandVivienneinthedarkness.
Alone.Chapter23
ItwasnearlytwointhemorningbythetimeViviusedhersparekeytounlockSomethingWicked.TheEurydiceCandlewastucked
inhersatchel,andeventhoughitjustlookedandfeltlikearegularcandle,shedidn’twanttoholdontoitanylonger
thanshehadto,andshedefinitelydidn’twantitinherapartmentovernight.

Thestorageroomatthestorehadseemedlikethebestplacetokeepit,andshemadeherwaytothatspacenow,Rhysclose
behindher.

Theyhadn’ttalkedmuchonthedriveover,andtheydefinitelyhadn’ttalkedaboutthatmomentinthecloset,muchlikehow
theyweren’ttalkingaboutthekissinthelibrary.

ViviandRhysweregettingreallygoodatNotTalkingAboutThings,which,shethought,washowitneededtostay.
And,shethoughtasshepushedbackthecurtainleadingtothestoreroom,sheneededtorememberthatwholethingaboutnot
beingalonewithhimindimlylitspacesanymore.

“Oh,forfuck’ssake,”shemutteredtoherselfasshesteppedintothestoreroom.
She’dforgottenthatAuntElaine’sspellmadetheroomshiftdependingontimeofday,evendependingontheweather.Ifit
wasrainingoutside,there’dbeafireinafireplace,candlesglowingcozilyonthewalls.Ifitwassunny,therewerewindows
lettinginsoftpoolsofsunlight.

Andifitwasthemiddleofthenight,yougotthefireinthefireplace,thecandlesandaskyfullofstarsoverhead.
“Isyourauntmeetingsomeoneinherelater?”Rhysasked,lookingaroundhim,andVivikepthereyesonthewardrobeahead
ofherasshesaid,“No,thisisjust…thevibe.”

“Thevibe,”Rhysrepeated,clearlypleased.“Ilikeit.”
Vivididn’tsayanythingtothat,justopenedthewardrobeandgingerlytookthecandleoutofherbag.Itwasstillalittle
cooltothetouch,colderthananormalcandlewouldbe,andViviwascarefulasshesetitamongapileofplainwhitecandles
andseveraljarsofdriedherbs.

Inthemorning,she’dtextGwynandElainetotellthemaboutthis,butfornow,shejustwantedtogouptoherapartment
andtakeaveryhotbath,followedbyseveralhoursofsleep.

“Christ,it’slate,”Rhyssaidonasigh,andVivinoddedasshefinishedsettlingthecandleinitsplace.
“Iknow.I’mgladIdon’thavemorningclassestomorrow.”
Frombehindher,sheheardRhysgivealowchuckle.“Schedulingteachingaroundwitchcraft.Orwitchcraftaroundteaching,
Isuppose.”

“That’smylife.”
ExceptthatVivihadn’tdonethismuchwitchystuffinages.Andeventhoughtonighthadnotexactlybeenajoy,therehad
beensomethingalittleexhilaratingaboutitall.Creepingthroughthewoodstoahauntedcabin,summoningupthespirit
ofalong-deadwitch…ItwasthekindofthingVivihadthoughtofwhenshe’dfirstlearnedaboutwho—aboutwhat—shewas.

Maybethat’swhyshedidn’tfeelallthattiredorwornoutorstressedaboutteachingherclassestomorrow.
She’dgoneintoahauntedhouse,litamagicalcandleandcapturedamotherfuckingwitchghost.
Andthatfeltprettyawesome.
“Thankyouforyourhelp,”shesaidtoRhysnow,shuttingthewardrobeandturningthekeyinthelock.“I’msurebeingterrorized
byaghostwasn’thighuponyourlistofthingstodotonight.”

Turningaround,sheleanedbackagainstthewardrobe,crossingherarmsoverherchest.Rhyswasstillstandingthereacross
theroom,thefirelightplayingacrosshishandsomeface,hishairdefinitelydoingTheThingandhisstubblereallyupping
hiswholerakishair.

WhichisprobablywhyVivisaid,“Andletmeaddaretroactivethank-youfornevertryingtohavesexwithmeinahaunted
housebackwhenwewereincollege.”

“YoungHainsleydoesneedtorethinkhisgame,”Rhysacknowledged,mimickingherpostureagainstthecabinetjustacrossfromher.“Buttobefair,hadtheoptionbeenavailablebackthen,Iprobablywould’vetriedit.Iwould’veattemptedtoshagyoumostanywhere.Hauntedhouse,abandonedasylum,DepartmentofMotorVehicles…”
“Ifyou’ddonethatlastone,wecould’vealsotriedtohavesexinjail,”Vivireplied,ignoringthewayherheartseemed
toflutterinherchestatbothhiswordsandthehalfsmilehewaswearing,wishingAuntElaineweren’tquitesocommitted
toheraestheticsbecausethisroomwithitswarmwoodandsoftlightingandplentyofavailablesoftsurfaceswasnothelping
matters.

“Would’vebeenworthit,”Rhyssaid,andthenhissmilefadedevenasthelookinhiseyesgrewwarmer.“Iwasmadaboutyou,
Vivienne,”hesaidsoftly.

Sincerely.
“Utterlymad.”
Viviswallowedhard,herarmstighteningaroundherself.Shewantedtofindajoketothrowathim,somethingthatwouldpuncture
thismomentlikeaballoon.

Instead,shetoldthetruth.“Thefeelingwasverymutual.”
“Was?”Rhyspushedhimselfoffthecabinet,movingclosertoher.Itwaslate,solatebynow,andVivihadbeenupfornearly
twentyhours,butshefeltlikeshehadwhenshe’dtouchedthoserunesinPiper’scabin.

Electrified.Alive.
“BecausethemoreIconsiderit,”hewenton,stillmovingtowardher,slowly,hishandsinhispockets,“thelessIthink
Ishould’veusedthepasttense.ShallItryitout?”

Hestopped,watchingher,andViviknewifshetoldhimnotto,ifshesaidtheyshouldleave,hewould,withoutquestion.Itwasoneofthethingsshe’dlovedabouthimsomuchallthoseyearsago,howeasilyheputthepowerinherhands.Shecouldstophiminhistracksrightnow.
Orshecouldlethimcomecloserandhearwhathehadtosay.
Notsureifshetrustedherselftospeak,Vivijustnodded,andonecornerofRhys’smouthhookedup.“Iammadaboutyou,VivienneJones.Again.OrmaybeIshouldsaystill,becauseI’mgonnaberealhonestwithyouhere,cariad.Idon’tthinkiteverwentaway.”

Cariad.He’dcalledherthat,thatsummer.Shecouldstillfeelit,growledagainstherear,whisperedintoherskin,murmuredbetween
herthighs.

Hestillstoodafewfeetawayfromher,stillgivinghertheopportunityandthespacetoputanendtothisifshewanted
to.

Shedidn’t.
Closingthespacebetweenthem,VivirestedherhandsonRhys’schest.Hisskinwaswarmthroughthematerialofhissweater,
hisheartthuddingsteadilyagainstherpalms,andasVivileanedin,shecouldsmelltheoutsideonhisskin,thewoodsmoke
fromtheforest,thescentofnightairclingingtohim,anditsuddenlyseemedsostupidtohavepretendedshedidn’twant
this.

Liftingherface,Vivibroughtherlipstohis.
Thekissinthelibraryhadbeenfrantic,amatchtouchedtogasoline,angerandfrustrationfuelingitasmuchaslust.
Thiswasdifferent.Slower.
Hishandscameuptocupherface,thumbsrubbingsoftcirclesagainstherjaw,andVivifoundherownhandsrestinglowonhiswaist,openinghermouthunderhis,sighingashistonguestrokedalonghers.
“Thetasteofyou,”hemutteredwhentheyparted,hismouthdroppingtoherneckasViviclosedhereyesandtiltedherhead
back.“Can’tgetenoughofit.Neverfuckingwellcould.”

Anothermemory.ThatfirstnightattheSolsticeRevel,tangledtogetherinhistent.Vivihadnevergonetobedwithanyone
sofast,hadalwaysgonethroughwhatfeltliketheappropriatenumberofdatesforeachstage.Kissonthesecond,little
furtheronthethirdandsoon.She’donlyhadsexwithoneotherguybeforeRhys,andthathadbeenafterasolidyearof
dating.

ButwithintwohoursofmeetingRhys,he’dhadhismouthonher,herthighdrapedoveroneshoulderashe’dkissedandlicked
andsuckedanddrivenhercompletelyoutofhermind,tellingheroverandoveragainhowgoodshetasted,howgorgeousshe
was,andshe’dfeltgorgeous.Powerful,even,unashamed,uninhibited.

Sometimesshethoughtwhatshe’dreallyfalleninlovewiththatsummerwastheversionofherselfshewaswhenshewaswith
him.

Butaslovelyasthatmemorywas,shedidn’twanttothinkaboutthepastwhenthepresentwasrighthereinfrontofher,
handsskatingoverhersides,fingertipsbrushingtheskinjustabovethewaistofherjeans.

“Vivienne,ifyou’llallowmetomakeyoucometonight,I’dconsidermyselfthemostfortunateofmen.”
Thewordsweremutteredagainsttheplacewhereherneckmethershoulder,andVivifeltherentirebodyclenchinresponse.
Suddenly,therewasnothingmoreshewantedintheworldthantoletRhysPenhallowmakehercomeinthebackroomofthis
store,andshedidn’twanttolooktoocloselyatit,didn’twanttothinkaboutallthereasonssheshouldn’t.

Ithadbeenalongnight,shewasfeelingpowerfulandgood,andahandsomemanwantedtogiveheranorgasm.

Whyshouldn’tshehavethat?
Herhandsclaspedaroundthebackofhisneck,Vivileanedintokisshimagain,lettinghertonguestrokealonghis,loving
thelowsoundthatcamefromhisthroatasshedid.

“Please,”shewhisperedagainsthismouth,andthentheywerestumblingbackagainsttheancientvelvetsetteebythefire.
SomedistantpartofVivi’sbrainremindedherthatithadbelongedtosomefamouswitch,thatAuntElainewasreallyfond
ofitasaresult,butshecouldn’tthinkaboutthatnow,couldn’tthinkaboutanythingexceptRhysandhishandsonher.

Theyfellbackontothecouch,Rhysreachingouttomakesurethefullweightofhisbodydidn’tlandonher,andVivicuffed
ahandaroundthebackofhisneckashenuzzledherjaw,herneck.

Rhyswastugginghershirtoutofherjeans,shovingitupoverherbreasts,andwhenhismouthclosedoverhernipplethrough
thelaceofherbra,Vivigasped,fingerstighteninginhishair.

Histonguemadelazycircles,thedragofthefabricplusthewetheatofhismouthmakingherwritheunderneathhim,needing,
pleading.

Theraspofherzippersoundedveryloudinthequietroom,andRhyslookedatheragain,hiseyesmeetinghers,pupilsblownwidewithdesire.“Allright?”heasked,andshenodded,almostfrantically,assheclutchedthebackofhisneck,bringinghismouthtohers.
“Betterthanallright,”shepanted,andthenhishandwasthere,slidingoverthecottonofherpanties,andshewaslifting
herhipsoffthecouchinasilententreaty.

Foramoment,hepaused,rearingoverher,hishairoverhisbrow,hislipspartedwiththeforceofhisbreath,anditcould’ve
beenthatfirstnightalloveragain.ThereinhistentattheSolsticeRevel,lookingdownather,thatsamependantwinking
againsthischest.

“ChristJesus,you’relovely,”hesaid,hisvoiceawreck,accentthicker,andVivialmostcould’vecomefromthatalone.
Fromthelookinhiseyes,asfondasitwasheated,andnotforthefirsttime,shethoughthowmucheasieritwould’vebeen
iftheyhadn’tlikedeachothersomuch.Ifithadjustbeensexandheatanddesire,andnotthiswarmth,too.

“Makemecome,Rhys,”sheheardherselfsay,hervoicefaintagainstthecrackleofthefireandtheroaringofherownblood
inherears.“Now.”

Sheneededtheheattoblotoutthewarmth.
Ifshecouldtellherselfthiswasjustaboutsex,justaboutgettingoff,itwouldbeeasiertowatchhimwalkawaythis
time.

Oratleastshehopeditwouldbe.
Forthespaceofafewbreaths,Rhysjustkeptlookingather,hiseyesnearlyblack,hischestrisingandfalling,andVivitensed,wonderingifhe’dputastoptoit,ortrytomakethismorethanitwas.
Andthenhisfingersfoundheragain,pressingandcircling,dippingintoherwetnessandusingittoslickhistouch,dragging
hisfingertipsbackoverher,andViviwasclosinghereyes,incoherentcriescomingfromherlipsashetouchedher,and
touchedherandtouchedher.

Theorgasmseemedtostartsomewheredeepinsideher,radiatingouttohertoes,thetipsofherfingers,hernipples,and
sheheldhimeventighterassparksexplodedbehindhereyes,asshelostherselftoeverythingexcepthim,thesamewayshe
hadthatveryfirstnight.

It’sdifferentthistime,shetoldherselfevenasshekissedhisneck,hisjaw,hismouth,anywhereshecouldreach.

Ithastobe.Chapter24
“Sothat’saEurydiceCandle.”
VivihidayawnbehindhercoffeemugasshenoddedatGwyn.“Mmm-hmm.”
TheyweresittingaroundthebigtableinthebackofthestorageroomatSomethingWicked,thethreeofthemtakinginthe
silvercandlelyingamongElaine’spilesofherbsandwicksforherowncandles.Inthedaylight,inthiscozyandcomfylittle
room,itdidn’tseemlikesomethingthathadaghostlurkinginsideit.

ButVivicouldstillrememberwatchingPiperMcBride’sghostvanishinginsideit,andshiveredalittle.ThesoonerAmanda
pickedthisthingupandtookitoffherhands,thebetter.ShewassupposedtocomebyVivi’sofficelaterthatafternoon,
butVivihadwantedtoshowthecandletoherauntandcousinfirst,hencetheimpromptumeetinginthestorageroom.

Astheystudiedthecandle,Vivifocusedveryhardonnotlettinghergazeslideovertothesofaagainstthefarwall.Eventhoughithadjustbeenhoursago,lastnight—well,earlythismorning—italmostfeltlikesomethingoutofadream.
Areallyfantastic,reallydirtydream.
Butithadbeenalltooreal,andatsomepointtoday,shewasgoingtohavetodealwithwhathadhappened.
Whatitmeant.
Itmeantthatyou’dhadaroughnightanddeservedthatorgasm,apartofherbrainthatsoundedsuspiciouslylikeGwynsaid,andViviwasinclinedtoagree.Forallthatshewasexhausted
andrunningonaboutthreehoursofsleep,shefelt…goodthismorning.Betterthangood.Betterthanshe’dfeltina
longtime,andevenasshesearchedherselfforthatsinkingsensationthatshe’dmadeahugemistake,sheknewshewouldn’t
findit.

Becauseithadn’tbeenamistake.Ithadbeenfun.Andwasn’tthatenough?

Frowning,AuntElaineleanedinevencloser,pushingherglassesbackupthebridgeofhernose.“It’snotlikethecollege
witchestousesomethinglikethis,”shemurmured.Onehandhoveredoverthecandlelikeshemightpickitup.

“Thewitchwhocametotalktomewasdifferent,”Vivisaidwithashrug.“Ithinktheymightactuallybemodernizingover
therealittlebit.”

Gwynmadearudenoiseatthat,drawinguponekneeandwrappinganarmaroundit.“That’llbetheday.Ithinktheyjust
wantedyoutodotheirdirtyworkforthem.”

“Maybe,”Viviacknowledged.“Buthonestly,itwasn’tthatbad.”
OffElaineandGwyn’slook,sheamended,“Okay,itwasveryscaryandIneverwanttogobacktothatcabinagain,butitcould’vebeenalotworse.”
“Ghostscanbedangerous,”Elainesaid,stillfrowning.“Youshould’vecometomefirst.”
“RhysandIhadithandled.”
Gwyn’seyessparked,andsheopenedhermouth,butbeforeshecouldsayanything,Viviheldupafinger.“No.No‘I’llbetRhyshandledit,’orwhateverfilthythingyouweregonnasay.”

“You’renofunatall,”Gwynreplied.“Andmyjokewasgoingtobealittlemoresophisticatedthanthat,Ipromise.”
“Sureitwas.”
Vivireachedacrossthetabletopickupthecandle,butbeforeshecould,AuntElainelaidahandonhers.
“Isthatallyouwantedtotellus?YoucaughtaghostinaEurydiceCandle?”
Foramoment,VivihadthehorrifyingideathatElaineknewwhathadhappenedbackherelastnight,thattherewas,like,
themagicalequivalentofsecuritycameras,andElainehadgottenquitetheshow,inwhichcase,Vivihopedtherewassome
kindof“disappearingintothefloor”spell.

ButAuntElainewasn’tgivingheranykindofknowinglook.Shewasgenuinelyasking,andVivirealizedtherewassomething
elsesheneededtotellthemboth.

“Theghostsaidsomestuffbeforethecandlegother,”Vivisaid,adjustingherbagonhershoulder.“About‘cursedPenhallow,’andtakingsomethingthatdidn’tbelongtohim.ButIdon’tthinkitwasaboutRhysspecifically.IthinkitmighthavebeenaboutGryffud,orsomeotherancestor.”
“Couldbeworthlookinginto,”Gwynmused,restingherchinonherknee.
“I’lldoalittleresearch,”AuntElainesaid,thennoddedatVivi’sbag.
“Andyougogivethatfoulthingtoitsrightfulowner.”
“Willdo,”Vivisaidwithalittlesalute.
AndthenAuntElainesmiledather,hereyesbrightbehindherglasses.“I’mproudofyou,Vivi.AEurydiceCandleisserious
magic.”

Viviwavedheroff.“Ididn’tdomuch,really.Ijustlitit.Notexactlynext-levelsorcery.”
“Still,”AuntElaineinsisted,coveringVivi’shandwithherown.“You’reawitchwhowon’tevenusemagictocleanherapartment,
andnowlookatyougo!”

“Okay,that’sjustbecauseIusethattimetocatchuponlisteningtopodcasts,plusIwatchedthatMickeyMousecartoon
withthedevilbroomsasakidanditfreakedmeout.”

“Ilovedthatcartoon,”Gwynsaid,proppingherchininherhand,hersilverearringswinking.
“Ofcourseyoudid.”
“ButMomisright,”Gwynwenton,nudgingVivi.“Veryballermagic.”
“Idon’treallyknowwhatthatmeans,”AuntElainereplied,“butIsuspectitmeans‘impressive,’anditwas.Yourmother
wouldhavebeenproud,too.”

Surprised,ViviglancedatElaine.“ExceptthatMomhatedmagic?”
AuntElaineshookherhead,leaningbackinherchair.“Itscaredher.Shefeltlikebeingawitchwas…Idon’tknow,
somethingthathappenedtoher,notsomethingshechose.Butshewasgood.Reallygoodwhenshewantedtobe.Shejustchoseanotherpath.”

VivihadspentsolongwiththisideaofhermomasfirmlyincampMagicIsBadthatshedidn’treallyknowwhattosayto
that.

Standingup,Vivimovedtothecurtainsectioningoffthestorageroomfromtherestofthestore,andcameupshortasshe
staredatthegirlstandingthere,hereyeswide.

“Oh,wow,”shebreathed.“I’veneverseenthispartofthestorebefore.”
GwynleaptupfromthetableasAuntElaineturnedaround.
“Hey,Ashley,”Gwynsaid,comingoverandputtinganarmaroundthegirl’sshouldersasshebeganleadingherbackintothe
store,andthrowingalookbackatViviandElaine.“That’sjustthebackroom,nothingthatinteresting,butwedohavesomereallycoolwandsinifyouwanttocheckthoseout…”

Gwyn’svoicefadedasshewalkeddeeperintothestore,andAuntElainestoodup,sighing,handsonherhips.
“Well,guessweknowthatspellisn’tworkingasitshouldrightnow,either.”
Itwasn’texactlyasurprise,butitwasareminderthatthisthinghadtogetsortedout,andfast.Andthat’swhereVivi’s
focusneededtobe.

Whichiswhysheonlyglancedatthecouchoncebeforeshehurriedoutofthestorageroom.
Thedrivetocampuswasuneventful,andViviwasjustlockinghercarwhensheheardsomeonecallinghername.
ItwasAmanda,joggingovertoher,abrightsmileonherface.“Howdiditgo?”
Relieved,Vivireachedintoherbagforthecandle.“Great!Butnowpleasetakethisbecausehavingaghostinmypurseis
creepingmeout.”

Amanda’ssmilebrightenedasshewrappedherfingersaroundtheEurydiceCandle.“Notaproblem.I’llgetthisbacktoour
sideofcampus,andyoucangoonaboutyourday.”

Sinceshehadaclasstoteachinfiveminutes,Viviwasgratefultodojustthat,andwithawave,sheturnedtowardChalmers
Hall,thebuildingwhereherclassmet.

Cloudswerethickintheskytoday,leavesskitteringacrossthebrickwalkways,andVivishiveredalittle,tuggingherscarf
abittighteraroundherneck.Asshedid,sheglancedbackoverhershoulderandspottedAmandawalkingacrosstheparking
lot.Sheturnedleft,disappearingbehindarowoftrees,andVivifrownedassheturnedbackaround.

That’snotthewaytogettothewitchsideofcampus
ButmaybeAmandaknewashortcut,orwasgettingsomethingoutofhercar.
Thathadtobeit.
Vivitaughtherfirstclass,thenhersecond,forgettingallaboutAmandaandtheEurydiceCandleassheenlightenedahundredfreshmenabouttheMagnaCarta,evenforgettingaboutRhysforalittlewhile,andbythetimeshegotbacktoherofficelatethatafternoon,shewasactuallystartingtofeelabit…okay,“normal”would’vebeentoostrongaword,butatleastmoresettled,moresureofherself.
Sure,theystillhadtodealwiththecurse,butthey’dfixedthepotionissueattheCoffeeCauldron,andnowtheynolonger
hadanangryghostroamingaroundcampus.

Shewasactuallyontopofallthis.
Smiling,pleasedwithherself,Vivisettledbehindherdeskandtuggedastackofgradingtoher,flippingonherkettleas
shedid.

She’djustgottenthroughthefirstthreeessayswhentherewasaknockatherdoor.“Comein,”shecalledwithoutlooking
up.

Assoonasthedooropened,magicrippledoverherskin,sothickandheavyshehadtotakeasecondtocatchherbreath,
andwhenshelookedup,Dr.Arbuthnotstoodinthedoorway.

“Ms.Jones?”sheintoned,hervoicelikethunder.“Ibelieveweneedtospeak.”
RhyshadbeenthinkingaboutVivienneallday,soinaway,hewasn’tsurprisedwhensheturneduponhisdoorstepthatevening.
Infact,whenhefirstopenedthedoor,hewonderedifhewashavingaparticularlyvividhallucination.

Butno,ifhewereconjuringupVivienne,hedefinitelywouldnothavemadeherlookthissad.
Notjustsad.Defeated.Hershoulderswereslumped,hairstragglingoutofherloosebun.Eventhelittlecherriesmarchingalongthehemofherskirtseemedtobedrooping.
“Youwereright,”shesaidassoonasheusheredherinside,andashelockedthedoorbehindthem,heraisedhiseyebrows.
“Firstoff,canIrecordyousayingthat?Secondly,rightaboutwhat?”
Sighing,Viviennethrewherhandsouttothesides.“Wecan’tjustkeepputtingoutthefiresthiscursecauses.Especially
sinceitturnsoutthatintryingtoputthemout,wemightjustbestartingmore,and…yourhouseisweird.”

She’dmovedintothelivingroom,andwaslookingaroundwithaconfusedexpression,nodoubttakingintheheavyironchandelier,
theoxbloodleatherfurniture,thegenuineGothicnightmareofthewholeplace.“Howdoyousleephere?”sheasked,thenpointed
atapaintingonthewall.“Imean,Imayneversleepagainjustfromseeingthat.”

“Thatismygreat-great-auntAgatha,butfairpoint.”

Movingintothekitchen,Rhyscalledoverhisshoulder,“Isthisaconversationthatrequireswine?”
HeheardViviennesighagain,thenthesqueakingoftheleatherasshefloppedontothecouch.“Yes.”
Whenheemergedwithabottleandtwoglasses,shewasleaningback,studyingtheceiling,anditwasthestrangestthing,
seeingherinthissetting,herandherpolkadotsinhisfather’slair.Andhedidn’tlikethewayitmadehimfeel…
better.

Happier.
Thosearelingeringsexhormonesfromlastnight,mate,hetoldhimself,butheknewitwasmorethanthat.

Problemwas,hedidn’tknowwhatthefucktoactuallydowithanyofthat.Whathadhappenedatthestorehadbeenaone-off,neededtobeaone-off,becauseallofthiswasentirelytoomadtoaddshaggingbackintotheequation.

Muchashe’dliketo.
Crossingtheroom,Rhyshandedheraglassofwine,andshetookitgratefully,takingadeepsipbeforesittingupalittle
andsaying,“Wefuckedup.”

Rhysperchedagainstthearmofthewingbackchairnexttothecouch,crossingoneankleovertheother.“Isthisaboutlast
night?”

“Obviously,”shesaidwithalittlescowl,andthenherexpressioncleared.“Oh.You’reaskingaboutthe…”
Cheekscoloring,shetookanothersipofwine.“No,Ididn’tmeanthat.That’sawholeotherfuckup.”
Thewordsshouldn’tsting.Lordknew,he’djustbeenthinkingtheexactsamething,soitwasridiculoustofeelhurt.
Buthe’dmadeahabitofbeingridiculouswhereViviennewasconcerned.
“RememberhowoneofthewitchesfromthecollegegaveustheEurydiceCandletocapturePiperMcBride’sspirit?”
“Giventhatthatwasliterallyyesterday,Idorecallit.Fairlyvividly,actually.”

Viviennerolledhereyesanddrankmoreofherwine.“Well,turnsout‘AmandaCarter’doesn’tworkforthecollege.Infact,she’snotevenawitch,whichIshould’vebeenabletopickupon,butIwassorelievedtohavehelpwithallofthisthatIignoredit.”
Shakingherhead,shelookeddarklyintoherglass.“Thejeansshould’vegivenitaway.”
Bracingonehandonthechair’sarm,Rhyslookedather,sittingtherenearlyswallowedupbyhisfather’sinsanecouch.“What
doyoumeanshewasn’tawitch?HowonearthdidshehaveaEurydiceCandle,then?”

Vivienneraisedherhead,softblueshadowsunderherprettyhazeleyes.“She’saconartist.Afamousone,apparently.Her
realnameisTamsynBligh.Shedealsinmagicalartifacts,andhadbeensniffingaroundGravesGlenforawhile.Thecollege
witcheswerekeepinganeyeonher,butshesomehowslippedpastthemandmadeabeelinestraightforme.”

Flatteningherpalm,Viviennethrustherhandoutinfrontofher,thenshookherhead.“Anyway,wecapturedtheghostof
averypowerful,veryscarywitch,andthengaveittosomeonewho’llsellittothehighestbidderallbecauseIamatrusting
dumbass.”

“You’renot,”Rhysautomaticallyobjected,andwhensheonlylookedathim,herolledhisshoulders.“Well,you’retrusting,
butyou’renotadumbass.Notbyamile.”

Groaning,Viviennesetherglassonthecoffeetableandburiedherheadinherhands.“It’slikeitalljustkeepsgetting
worse.JustwhenIthinkIhaveahandleonit,oramactuallydoingsomethinggood,Idosomethinglikethis.”

Liftingherheadagain,sherestedherhandsonthebackofherneckandtookadeepbreath.“Sonowthecollegewitchesarepissed,plustheyknowaboutthecurse,andthey’realsopissedoffaboutthis,andIjust…”

Breakingoff,shelookedathim,beseeching.“WhyamIsuchagoddamndisaster,Rhys?I’veneverdoneanyseriousmagicin
mylife,buttheonetimeIdid,itcursedanentiretown.”

“Ididthat,Vivienne,”Rhyssaid,standingupandsettinghisglassdownonthetablenexttohersbeforesittingatthe
otherendofthecouch,slouchingagainstthecorner,hislegsstretchedoutinfrontofhim.

“Okay,butthat’smypoint,”shereplied,turningsothatshecouldfacehim.Moreofherhairhadcomedown,framingher
face,andRhys’shandsitchedtopushthosestrandsbehindherears,tocupherfacebetweenhishands,rubhisthumbover
thosesoftpinklips.“Weareadisaster.Apart,ourlivesrunsmoothly.Perfectly,even.”

“That’sabitofanoverstatement,”Rhysobjected,butViviennewasclearlyonarollnow.
“Andthenassoonaswe’retogether,itallgoestoshit.Eventhatsummer.Thatreallybeautiful,perfectsummer.Wheredid
itendup?Demonplasticskulls.”Shetickeditoffononefinger.“Poisonedpotions.”Anothertick.“Libraryghost.”Tick.
“Andnowthis,which…”

Viviennestaredatthefingershe’dhelduptotickoffandscowled.“Idon’tevenknowhowtodefinethis.Exceptdisaster.”

“Soyou’vesaid.Repeatedly.”
Pickingupherwine,shedrainedtherestoftheglassbeforesettingitdownandfloppingbackagainstthecouch.
WhenRhysdidn’tsayanything,sheraisedherchinslightly.“What,notgonnatrytoarguewithme?”
Rhysshrugged.“WhyshouldI?You’reright.”
“Iam?”Thensheclearedherthroat,sittingup.“Imean,Iam,yes.I’mright,we’readisaster.”
“Completely,”Rhyssaid,liftingonehandoffthebackofthecouch.“Theproofisinthepossessedcandle,asthesaying
goes.”

Viviennesmiledalittleatthat.“Noonesaysthat.”
“Maybetheyshould.”
Theywerebothquietforamoment,watchingeachother,andRhyswaitedtoseeifshe’dleavenow.Sheprobablyshould,but
ashelookedatherthere,relaxedandrumpled,heverymuchhopedshe’dstay.

Glancingaroundthelivingroomagain,Viviennereacheduptotuckherhairbehindherears.“Ican’tbelieveyoulivehere.”
“Idon’tlivehere,”hesaid,tiltinghisheadbacktolookatthechandelier.“I…amtemporarilyresidinghere,moreorlessagainst
mywill.Hugedifference.”

“Hmph,”shesniffed,thenpickeduponeofthepillowsonthecouch.Itwasblack,embroideredwiththefamilycrest,and
Rhyswasn’tsureanyliteralcushionhadeverlookedlesswelcomingthanthatthing.

Vivienneturnedthepillowoverinherhands,andthenlookedupathimthroughherlashes.
“Okay,ifthisblowsupinmyface,knowmyintentionsweregood.”
Holdingherhandsoverthecushion,Vivienneclosedhereyesandtookadeepbreath.
Asgoldenlightbegantogatherbetweenherfingertips,Rhys’seyeswidened.“Okay,Vivienne,maybedon’t—”
Butthenthepillowsortofshimmered,thefamilycrestbleedingouttobereplacedwithareddragon.
SpecificallythereddragonofWales,butonethatwasgrinning,clawsextendedintheairandpaintedthesamebrightpurple
asVivienne’sownnails.

Liftingthepillowtriumphantly,shegrinned.“Muchbetter.”
Andfuck.
Fuck.
Shemightaswellhavehithimwithahammer.Itwaslikethatsummereveningalloveragain,andRhyssethisglassdown
onthecoffeetablewithadecisivethunkbeforeslidingacrossthesofatoher.

Thepillowhitthefloor,andshereachedoutforhimjustashisfingersbrushedoverherjaw,tiltingherfacesothathe
couldlookather.

“Youbloodygorgeousgirl.”Hesighed,andherownhandscameuptohiswrists,nottopushhimaway,assheprobablyshould
have,buttopullhimcloser.

“I’verunoutofwaystosaythisisabadidea,”Viviennemurmuredagainsthislips,andRhyssmiled,nudginghernosewith
his.

“We’vemadealotofmistakes,”heagreed.“ButIdon’tthinkthisisoneofthem.”
Andhedidn’t.Forwhateverelsehadgonewrongwiththem—andChrist,hecouldfillupaledgerbookatthispoint—this,her,
hereinhisarms,wasnotoneofthem.Heknewthataswellasheknewanything.

Sheleanedincloser,hernailslightlyscratchingthebacksofhishands,andifRhyshadn’talreadybeensohardheached,
thatwould’vedoneit.Sowouldthewayshejustbarelybrushedherlipsagainsthisasshemurmured,“Areyougoingtoask
tokissme?”

Rhysgrinned.“I’mgonnaasktodoafuckloadmorethanthatifyou’llletme.”Chapter25
Mine,Rhys’sbloodhummedashekissedVivi,pullingherupthestairs,hermouthwarmandsoftandwet,herbodypliantbeneath
hishands.Finally,fuckingfinallymine.
Theytrippedandstumbled,laughedagainsteachother’smouths,untiltheywereonthesecondfloor.
Rhysstoppedinfrontofthebedroomdoor,andVivi,stilltwiningaroundhimlikeavine,pushedevencloser,herlipsagainst
hisneck.“Whatisit?”

“Ah.Right.”
Gentlyreachinguptopullherhandfromhishair,helookeddownather,atthoseswollen,damplipsandhazyeyes.“Before
wegoinhere,there’ssomethingyoushouldknow.”

Someofthehazefaded.“Kindofanalarmingthingtohearrightbeforeyougetnakedwithsomeone.”
“It’snothingserious,Ipromise,”hetoldher,leaningintobrushhislipsagainstherforeheadonlytogetdistractedbyhowclosehermouthwas,andthenhewaskissingheragain,turningsothatshewasupagainstthedoor,herthighsopeningforhiships,asoftsoundofneedescapingherlipsasherockedagainsther.
“It’sthebedroom,”hemurmuredbetweenkisses.
“Whataboutit?”
“Well,youknowhowtherestofthehouseis—”
“AGothicnightmare,yes.”
Rhyshuffedoutalaughthatquicklyturnedintoagroanasshewrappedalegaroundhis,pullinghiminevencloser.“Right,
well…thebedroomisprobablythepinnacleofthataesthetic,asitwere.Andasimpressiveasyourskillsweredownstairs,
IhavenointentionofwaitingforyoutomagicallyredecoratetheentireroombeforeIshagyou,so…”

Viviennepulledbackslightly,lookingupathimwithasortofunholylightinhereyesthatshould’vemadehimvery,very
afraid.

“Rhys,”shesaidasagrinslowlyspreadacrossherface,“areyoutellingmewe’regoingtohavesexinDracula’sbedroom?”
“Itis…alittleDracula,yes,”headmitted,andshelaughed,tippingherheadbackagainstthedoor.“Doesithaveacanopybed?Pleasetellmeit
hasacanopybed.”

Itnotonlyhadacanopybed,butsaidbedwasuponaplatform.
NotthatRhyswasgoingtotellherthat.Shewasjustmomentsawayfromfindingitoutforherself,afterall.
Soreachingbehindher,keepingagriponherwaistsoshewouldn’tstumble,heturnedthedoorknob.
Rhys’skissesweresodrugging,sodistracting,thatforaminute,Vivididn’tevennoticetheroomtheywerein.Theycould’vebeenanywhere,insomeblankspacewhereonlytheyexisted.That’showhemadeherfeel.Howhe’dalwaysmadeherfeel.
Andthenshesawalltheredsatin.
“Ohhhhhhmygod,”shebreathed,andRhysgroaned,hiskneesbendingsothathisforeheadwasagainsthercollarbone.
“Youweresupposedtosaythatbecauseofme.”
Giggling,Vivipulledoutofhisembracetofullyexplorethechamberinwhichshefoundherself.
And“chamber”reallywastherightwordbecausethisroomwasbananas.
Therewasachandelieroverheadthatappearedtobemadeofsomekindofblackcrystal,sparklingdarklyinthelowlight,
andthebed…

“Rhys,”Vivisaid,pressingonehandtohermouth.“Haveyoubeensleepinginthiseverynight?”

Sighing,Rhyssteppedback,leaningagainstthewall.“I’vespentafewnightsonthecouchjustbecauseIcannotdealwith
thisroom,”headmitted,andVivicouldnotblamehim.

Thecarpetunderfootwasthickandheavy,andtherewasafireplaceagainstthefarwall,afurrugslumpedonthefloor,
plusmoresconcesthananyoneroomshouldcontainandaparticularlygraphicpaintingofCirceseducingOdysseusoverthe
bed.

Thebedinquestionwassethighuponaplatform,sohighthattheedgehitherrightatherwaist,andthickblack-and-red
curtainsdrapedthemassivemattress,whichwascoveredin…

Vivipeekedunderneaththedamaskbedspread.
“Blacksatin?”sheasked,hervoicegoinghighonthelastsyllable,andRhystippedhisheadback,hisAdam’sapplebobbing.
“Iwarnedyou.”
Stillsmiling,Viviturnedtofacehim,herhandsreachingupforthebuttonsofherblouse.
“Whydidn’tyoubringmeherebefore?”
“Whydidn’tIbringyoutotheterrifyinglycreepysexdungeonIsleepin?”heasked,hishandsbehindhisbackevenashis
eyeswanderedoverherinawaythatmadeherbloodfeelhotter.“Can’timagine.”

“MaybeIwould’velikedit,”Vivisaid,shuckingherblouseandlovingthewayhisgazedarkenedashetookinherabsolutely
leastsexybra,thefadedpinkonewiththesaggingbowinthemiddle,theonesheneverwould’vewornifshe’dthoughtshe’d
enduphere,strippingdowninfrontofhim.

Rhys’sgazesomehowgotevenmoremolten.“HowdidIevergiveyouup?”hemurmured.Vivitookadeepbreathunzippingher
skirtandlettingitfalltothefloor,givingexactlyzerofucksthatherunderwearwasoneofherolderpairs,theonewith
lemonsandorangesdancingacrossthefabric,notevenremotelymatchingherbra.

Hewasacrosstheroominafewstrides,pullingheruphardagainsthim,kissingherbreathless.“Tellmewhatyouwant,”
hebreathedagainstherlips,oneofthemostappealingoffersVivihadeverheard.

“YouknowwhatIlike,”sheanswered,desirepoolingbetweenherthighs,andhesmiledather,shakinghishead.
“Iknowwhatyouliked,”hesaid.“Iwanttohearwhatyouwantnow.”

Shefeltalmostdizzywithwant,overwhelmed,anditmadeherbrave.Madeherbold.
“Tasteme,”shewhispered,andhispupilssomehowgotevenwider,evendarker.
“Ah,cariad,thereisnothingIwantmore.”

Shelethimpushherbackagainstthemattress,hoppingupbecauseitwassohigh,andwhensheliftedherhips,heeased
herpantiesdownherlegs,kissingherthigh,herknee,herankle.

Shefellbackagainstthebed,eyesfixedonthecanopyoverhead,andsuddenlyitdidn’tseemsosilly,soover-the-top.It
seemed…romantic.

Butmaybethat’sjustbecauseRhys’slipswerethere,exactlywhereshewantedthem,andherbodywasbowingupunderneath
him,fingerstightinhishairashecompletelyunraveledherwithhismouth.

Theorgasmsnuckuponher,andsheclutchedhishair,herbodycurlinguponitselfasshepantedhisname,shakingandsweating.
Hepulledback,hismouthwet,andthenhefumbledinthenightstand.
“More?”
Sheknewwhathewasasking,andnoddedashegavearelievedsigh,pullingacondomoutofthedrawer.
Therewerespells,Viviknew,thatweresupposedtoactasprotection,butElainehaddrilleditintobothViviandGwynthatwhenitcametotheirbodies,theyshouldalwaystrustscienceovermagic,andshewasgratefulRhyswasprepared.
Sittingupalittle,Vivireachedbehindher,unhookingherbra,andRhysgroaned,surgingupherbodytocuponebreastin
hishand,hislipsclosingoverhernippleasVivigasped,leaningbackonherhands.

“I’vedreamedaboutthis,”hemurmuredagainstherskin.“Howsoftyouare.Howbeautiful.”Hemutteredsomethingelse,something
inWelsh,andeventhoughVivididn’tunderstandit,herbodydid.Whateverhe’dsaid,itwasfilthy,andeventhoughshe’d
justcome,shefoundherselfreachingforhim,herhandsgreedy.

Therewassomethingdecadentaboutbeingnaked,splayedoutbeforehimwhilehewasfullydressed,butnowsheneededmore.
Neededtoseehim,feelhim.

Rhysclearlyunderstoodbecausehestoodup,hishandspullinghissweateroverhishead,thenfallingtothebuttonofhis
jeans.

Viviproppedherselfuponherelbows,watchinghimwithavideyes.Thehaironhischestwasn’tthick,curlingaroundhis
nipples,narrowingasitreachedhiswaistband.

Shesatupsothatshecouldtracethatlineofhairwithherfingernail,lovingthewayhiseyesbrieflyclosed,theshuddery
breathhegaveasshepulledhiszipperdown,slidingherhandinsidetopalmhiscock.

Hewashard,thickagainstherhand,andVivithoughtshemightdieifshedidn’tfeelhiminsideher.
“Now,Rhys,now,please.”

Hedidn’tneedtohearittwice.Viviheardthefoilwrappertear,felthishandbetweenthem,andthenhewasthere,pushing
insideher.

Ithadbeenawhile,andshetensedbriefly,buthetookhistimewithshallowthrusts,hisbreathhotagainstherear.“Make
itgoodforyou,Vivienne.”

Rhysonlyneededthebarestpushtohisshouldertorolltohisback,andViviwenteasilywithhim,bracingherhandson
hischestassheroseabovehim,adjustingtheangle,feelinghimdeepwithinher,herheadfallingback,hairbrushingher
back.

Andthenhishandwasthere,attheplacewheretheirbodiesmet,fingersworkingcleverly,andVivicouldfeelherselfcoming
again,herinnerwallsgraspinghimashegroanedandthrustup,meetingeveryrollofherhips.

Shefellovertheedgealmostinaninstant,hermouthopeninginasilentcry,andRhyssatupbeneathher,clutchingher
back,fingersflexingonherskin,hernamespillingfromhislipsashecame.

Shecollapsedagainsthimashefellbacktothemattress,stillholdinghertight,stillburiedinsideher,andasshetried
tocatchherbreath,Vivirealizedshehadn’tcomparedthistotheothertimesthey’dhadsex,notevenonce.

Therehadbeennomemories,nopast.Justthis.Justthepresent.
Justhim.
Groaning,Rhystippedhertotheside,slidingoutofherevenashispalmskimmedherthigh,likehecouldn’tstoptouchingher,andViviknewitwasprobablystupidtofeelthishappywhenthingsweregoingthiswrong,butthatwastheperilofmultipleorgasms.
Shelaughedalittletoherself,staringupatthecanopyofRhys’strulyridiculousbed,andnexttoher,hefloppedonto
hisback,turninghisheadtolookather.

“Thatgigglehadbetternotbeaboutmyprowess,”hesaid,stilloutofbreath.
“Never,”sheassuredhimwithasolidheadshake.“It’sallforyourfurniture.”
“Ah,”hereplied,turninghisattentionbacktothecanopy.“Inthatcase,haveatit.Thisisaprofoundlysillybedroom
foragrownmantohave.”

“Doallofthebedroomsinyourdad’shouseslooklikethis?”Viviasked,rollingonhersidenow,andRhyslookedoverat
her,narrowinghiseyesslightly.

“IsthisyoutryingtofigureoutifIgrewupwithacanopybed?”
Viviheldherthumbandfingeratinydistanceapart.“Littlebit.”
Hesmiledthen,theexpression,asalways,makinghimlookyoungerandsofter,andViviwishedshedidn’tlikehimsomuch,
wishednineteen-year-oldVivihadn’tseenhimstandingthereinthatfieldandgivenherwholeheartawaywithbothhands.

Butthatwasn’ttrue.
Andsheknewit.Chapter26
“Isitalittletooobvious?”
RhystwistedaroundfromhisspotonVivienne’scouchtoseeherstandinginthedoorwaytoherbedroom,onehandonherhip.
Nopolkadotsorcherriestonight;shewaswearingablackdressthatemphasizedeverycurve,herpurple-and-black-striped
tightspeekingoutfromtallblackbootsandawitch’shatperchedonherhair,whichfellloosetohershoulders.

Inthepastweek,Rhyshadseenhernakedmultipletimes,hadhadheroverhimandunderhim,inhisbed,inhersand,in
oneverymemorableencounter,onthestairsathishouse,buthestillsuckedinabreathlookingatherthere,sobloody
beautifuland,evenmoredeadly,adorablethathewasverytemptedtosuggesttheyjuststayintonightandnotgototheFallFair,whateverthefuckthatwas.

“Ithinkyoushouldwearthateveryday,”hesaidnow,risingfromthecouchtostandinfrontofher,bracinghishandson
thedoorframeaboveherhead.“Oratleasteverynight.”

“Icouldmaybebetalkedintothat,”Viviennereplied,liftingherfacetokisshim.“WhatwouldIgetinreturn?”
“Icouldgiveyouapreview,”Rhyssuggested,lettinggoofthedoorandmovinghishandstoherdress,slowlydraggingit
upherthighsasshelaughed.

“Ifwe’relatetothefair,Gwynwillkillus,”shesaid,butshewasalreadyunbuttoningthetopfewbuttonsofhisshirt,
hernailsdraggingalongthechainheworearoundhisneck.

“Canyoukindlyexplainyetagainwhatthisactuallyentails?AmIgoingtohavetobobforapplesorsomething?”
“That’scertainlyontheagenda,”Viviennesaid,“alongwithdrinkingciderandhelpingmeandGwynsellwitchythingsat
thebooth.SheandAuntElainemakeakillingatthisthingeveryyear.AndwegettoeatMrs.Michaelson’scaramel-applehandpies,whicharesogood,Ithinkshemightactuallybeawitch,eventhough
Elaineswearsshe’snot,andit’sjustallthebuttersheuses,and—oh!”

Rhyshadslidherdressuphighenoughtodiphisthumbbetweenherlegs,barelybrushingagainstthedampsilkofherunderwear,
andashemovedhishand,hebrushedwarm,bareskin.

Groaning,Rhysdroppedhisheadtohershoulder.
“Iwould’vebeenbobbingforappleswithoutknowingthesestockingsweren’ttightsafterall?Youareatrulycruelwoman,
Vivienne.”

“Nah,Iwasgonnaletyoufeelmeuponthehayride.”
“I’mnotevencompletelysurewhatahayrideis,butIthinkitmightbemyfavoritepartofthisFallFairalready.”
Leaningin,Rhyskissedheragain,capturingherlowerlipbetweenhisownlipsandsuckinggently,makinghersighagainst
hismouthandpresscloser.

Thehighneckofherdresspreventedhimfromtouchingasmuchofherashewantedto,buthesettledonbrushingthebacks
ofhisfingersagainstthecurveofherbreast,anddimly,hewonderedhowlonghe’dhavetotouchhertogethisfillof
it.He’dhadherforthreemonthsthatsummer,andhadn’tevenbeguntoslakehisthirstforher,hadstillfeltasinher
thrallthatlastdayashehadthefirst.

Andheknewthatwhenheleftthistime,itwouldbethesame.Theycouldtalkabout“gettingitoutoftheirsystems”all
theywanted—thiswasn’tthekindofthingonegotover.

Youdiditbefore,you’llfigureitoutagain.
Becausehewouldhaveto.They’dagreedtherewasnofutureforthem,thattheygottojustenjoythepresentfornow,but
everytimehetouchedher,everytimehekissedher,itwashardtorememberthat.

Viviennedrewbackfromthekissnow,andeyesbright,sheurgedhimtohisknees.
Rhyswentmorethanwillingly,pushingherdresshigher,takinginthelacybordersofherstockingsjustthereatthemostbitablepartofherthighs.Andbiteithedid,gently,lovingtheraggedsoundofherbreathingasshereachedouttosteadyherselfthereinthedoorway,thealmostpainfultugofherfingersinhishair.
Helookedupherbodyather,grinningashepressedakisstothespothe’djustbitten.“Stillcareaboutbeinglate?”
“Notevenalittlebit.”
Viviennemaynothavecared—andRhyssureasfuckdidnot—butshewasrightaboutGwyn.Whentheyeventuallyarrivedatthe
FallFair,nearlyanhourlaterthanthey’dsaidtheywould,Vivienne’scousinwaswaitingforthemintheparkinglot,her
armsfoldedoverherchest.LikeVivienne,shewasdeckedoutinfullwitchregalia,althoughshewaswearingabrightorange
pairofankleboots,andhertightsweregreen.

“We’reintrouble,”Viviennesaid,andRhysshruggedasheunbuckledhisseatbelt.
“I’mblamingitonyou.TellingGwynyoudemandedIserviceyoubeforeweleft.”
“Youarelaaaaate!”GwynsangoutwhenViviennesteppedoutofthecar,andViviennewavedherhand.
“Yes,Iknow,we—”
“Vivi,you’reglowingbrighterthanajack-o’-lantern,soIthinkIknowwhatyouweredoing.”
RhyshadtofightveryhardnottolooksmugasViviennethrewhimanalmostshysmile,butheclearlydidn’tsucceedbecause
Gwynrolledhereyesatbothofthem,turningaway.

“Y’allaregross,”shegrumbled,butRhyssawthewayshegrinnedatVivienneasshehookedherarmthroughhercousin’s,tugginghercloseastheymadetheirwaytowardthefieldwherethefestivalwasbeingheld,theirhipsbumping.
Rhyswatchedthem,theirheadsclosetogether,andthereitwasagain,thatsortoftuginhischest,remindinghimthatthis
wasVivienne’splace.She’dmadeahomeinthesmalltownherfamilyhadlivedinforages,madealifehere,whilehisown
hometownhadnearlysuffocatedhim.

Anotherreminderofhowverydifferenttheywere.
Butwhenshelookedbackoverhershoulderandsmiled,thatwarm,sunshinesmilethatmadehishearttripinsidehischest,
hewasn’tsurehecared.

TheFallFairhadalwaysbeenoneofVivi’sfavoritethingsinthedaysleadinguptoHalloweeninGravesGlen.Itwasalways
heldinthesamefield,nestledinavalleybetweenthehills,thewholethingringedinfairylightsandpaperlanterns,
theairsmellinglikefriedfood,popcornandcinnamon.Andwhilepeopledefinitelybroughttheirkids,itdidn’thavequite
thesamefamilyvibeasFounder’sDayalwaysdid.Therewassomethingalittlewildaboutit,somethingmorethanalittle
pagan.

Tonight,theskywasmostlyclear,justafewcloudsscutteringoverthemoon,andasViviwrappedasetoftarotcardsin
silkforawomanatGwyn’sbooth,shehummedhappilytoherself.

“Youhavetheannoyinglycheerfulmannerofawomanhavinganabsurdamountofawesomesex,”Gwynsaidasthewomanwalkedaway.Therewasnooneelseinline,soshehoppeduponthecounterofthebooth,longlegsdangling.
“Iam,”Vivisaidhappily.“Bothannoyinglycheerfulandhavingtheabsurdamountofawesomesex.”

“Yes,I’maware,”Gwynreplied,butshewassmiling,andshereachedout,kickingVivigentlywithoneorangeboot.“Youdeserve
it.”

“Ikindofdo,actually,”Viviagreed,hereyesalreadyscanningthecrowdforRhys.Andassoonasshesawhim,makinghis
waytowardherwithseveralwaxpaperbagsinhand,grinningthesecondtheireyesmet…

Ohgod,shefeltthatgrineverywhere.SheandRhyshadspentthelastfewdaysindulginginanythingtheycouldthinkof,
anythingtheywanted,theirbodiespickinguprightwherethey’dleftoffnineyearsago.

Butatmomentslikethis,herstomachfullofbutterflies,hercheeksachingwithhersmileasshewatchedhimamblehisway
towardher,sheworriedthatmaybeherhearthadpickeduprightwhereitleft,too.

“Ihopethisiswhatyouwanted,cariad,”hesaid,handingheroneofthebags.“Youwould’vethoughttheyweremadeofsolidgoldfromthelineforthem.”

“Thankyou,”Vivisaid,givingthebagthekindoflooksheusuallyreservedforRhys.“Idreamoftheseallyear.”
“Andforyou,”Rhyssaid,handingonetoGwyn,whotookitwithonlyslightlynarrowedeyes.
“You’remakingmycousinveryhappyandbringingmecaramel-applepie?Clearlyworkinghardatgettinganothernicknamebesides‘dickbag,’dickbag.”
“Iliveinhope,”Rhyssaid,leaningagainstthecounterashefoldeddownthewaxpaperandbitintohisownpie.
Viviwaited,watchinghim,andsmiledsmuglyashisownexpressionwentalittledreamy.“Allright,Iunderstandtheline
now,”hesaid,thentookanotherbite.“Vivienne,I’msosorry,butI’mleavingyouforthewomanwhomakesthesepies.”

“She’sninety.”
“Evenso.”
Giggling,Vivifinallytookabiteherself,hereyesflutteringshutatthemixofsaltedcaramel,butterpastryandcinnamon
apples.“Okay,yes,marryMrs.Michaelson.Justmakesureyouinvitemetotheweddingandservethese,okay?”

“Adeal,”hesaid,thenreachedouttoshakeherhand.WhenVivitookit,hetugged,pullingheruptothecountersohecould
kissher,andVivilaughedagainsthismouth,tastingsugarandsalt.

Whenshepulledback,Gwynwaswatchingthem,astrangeexpressiononherface,andsuddenlyalittleself-conscious,Vivi
wipedastraycrumbofpastryfromthecornerofhermouth.“What?”

“Nothing!”Gwynsaid,raisingbothherhands,butshewassmilinginawaythatViviknewfromexperiencemeantthey’dbe
talkinglater.

Finishinghispie,Rhysdustedoffhishands,andtappedoneofthesetsoftarotcardssittingonthecounterofthebooth.“Aretheseyourcreation?”
Hoppingdownfromherperch,GwynnoddedandwenttostandacrossfromRhys.“Weselllotsofdecksinthestore,butmyhandmade
onesareourbiggestseller.”

“Shesaysmodestly,”Viviteased,elbowingGwyn,whoelbowedherrightback.
“Canyoureadthecards?”sheaskedRhys.
Heshookhishead,bothelbowsonthecounter.“Ihaveasortofrudimentaryunderstandingofsomeofthem,butno,notmy
magicalstrongsuit.”

Theirareaofthefestivalwasstillkindofdead,sowhenGwynglancedatViviandsaid,“MindifIreadforhim?Mighthelp
withthewhole,”sheloweredhervoice,“cursething.”

“Goforit,”Vivisaid,lookingupatRhys.“Ifyouwantto?”
“Mightaswell,”hesaid,cheerfullyenough.“VivienneandIhaven’tmadeanybreakthroughsonthatfront.”
Notthattheyhadn’tbeentrying.Ithadn’tallbeensex.
Okay,ithadbeenalotofsex,butinbetween,they’dbeendeepinresearchmode,mostlyonVivi’slaptopsinceshedidn’ttrusttheminthestudy
roomatthelibraryagain.AndgivenhowpissedoffDr.ArbuthnothadbeenabouttheEurydiceCandle,theyprobablywouldn’t
havebeenallowedinanyway.

Sofar,Viviknewmoreaboutcursesthanshe’deverthoughtpossible.Sheknewthebestmoonphasesforcastingthem,knewthatwormwoodmadethemstronger,knewthatin1509,awitchhadmanagedtocursenotjustatown,butsixdifferentGermanprincipalitiesatonce.
Whatshedidn’tknowwashowtoliftacurse.
Typicalthatthatwasthebitwitcheswantedtobevagueabout.

Distracted,shemovedtotheotherendofthebooth,rearrangingthedisplayofcandles,makingsurethesomethingwicked—comevisitusintown!signwasstraight,andonlywhenRhyscalledhernamedidshelookbackoveratthem.

HewasholdingTheStar,hercard,andsmiling.“Thisseemslikeagoodsign.”
Viviwanderedbackover,leaningagainstthecounterasshepluckedthecardfromRhys’shand.“Dependsonwhereitisin
thespread,”shesaid,andGwyntappedthespotwherethecardhadbeenlying.

“We’regoingsimplepast,present,future.You’rethepresent,obviously.”
“Obviously,”sheechoed,andhereyesmetRhys’sagain.Hewassmilingatherinthatwayhehadthatwasbothsweetandfond,
andalsosomehowletherknoweveryfilthythinghewasthinkingofdoingtoher.

Itwasreallyoneofherfavoritesmilesontheplanet.
Gwynwasturningoverthethirdcard,thefuturespot,asVivilookedatthepast.RhyshadpulledTheLoversthere,also
notasurprise,butwhenGwynlaidthethirdcarddown,shescowledatit.

“Ugh,TheEmperor.”
“He’snotbad,”Viviobjected,butasshelookedattheversionGwynhaddrawn,shehadtoadmit,helookedalittleforeboding.Itshowedamaninadarksuitsittingonawoodenthronethatlookedlikeithadbeencarvedoutofanancienttree.Therewassilverinhisbeard,andhewasfrowningoutfromthecard,aheavyebonycaneinonehand.
“It’snotbad,”Gwynagreed,tappingthecard.“It’sjust,youknow.Authority.Rules,structure…”

“Myfather,”Rhyssaid,andGwynnodded,pickingthecardup.
“Exactly,hetotallyrepresents—”
“No,”Rhyssaid,andsomethinginhisvoicemadeVivilookupathim.
Hehadturnedaroundandwaslookingoutintothecrowd,hisexpressiongrim,asadark-hairedmaninblackmadehiswayacross
thefairgroundtothem,AuntElaineseveralstepsbehind.

RhysturnedtoVivi,hiseyesserious.“It’smyfather.He’shere.”Chapter27
RhyshadthoughtitwasoddseeingViviinhisfather’shouse,butthathadbeennothingcomparedtoseeinghisfatherin
Vivi’shouse.

Well,heraunt’shouse,technically,butitmightaswellhavebeenVivi’sforasmuchtimeshespentthere,hownaturalshe
lookedsittingatheraunt’skitchentable,amugofsteamingteaatherelbow.

Simonlookedalittlelessnatural,butthen,tobefair,hewasstaringatatalkingcat.
“Treats?”SirPurrcivalaskedasheattemptedtoheadbuttSimon’sarm.“Treeeaaats?”
“Whatonearthisthisabomination?”Simonasked,drawinghisarmbackevenasGwynrosefromherseatandheavedthecat
upoffthetable.

“He’snotanabomination,heisapreciousbaby.Althoughwedoneedtoworkonhistablemanners.”
“Mama,”SirPurrcivalpurred,lookingupadorablyatGwynasshecarriedhimoutoftheroom,andRhyssawhisfathergiveashudderbeforereachingforthemugofteaElainehadbroughthim.Itgotabouthalfwaytohismouthbeforeheseemedtothinkbetterofit,settingitbackdownsoharditsloshedovertheside.
“It’snotpoisoned,”Elainesaid,comingtositnexttoVivi,brieflypattingherniece’sshoulderasshedid.
Sniffing,Simonpulledahandkerchiefoutofhispocketanddabbedatthespilledtea.“Giventhisfamily’spredilectionfor
harmingmembersofmyfamily,youunderstandmyconcern.”

“Da,”Rhyssaid,hisvoicelow,andSimonflashedhimalookRhyshadseenathousandtimesbefore:thatmixofirritation
andwarning,plusjusttheslightesthintofbafflement,asifSimoncouldnotbelievethiswashisson.

“AmIwrong?”heaskedRhysnow.“Doyouordoyounotfindyourselfunderacurseplacedbythisverycoven?”
“Oh,forheaven’ssake,”Elainesaid,stirringaspoonfulofhoneyintohertea.“We’renotacoven.We’reafamily.Andthis
curseisverymuchaccidental,asbothViviandRhyshaveexplained.”

Simonsniffedatthat,sittingupstraighterinhischair.“There’snosuchthingasanaccidentalcurse.Andnow,thanks
tothisfoolishness,thisentiretown,myfamily’slegacy,isapparentlycursedaswell.Now,fromwhatIcangather,this
hasresultedinseveralaccidents,plusaghostbeingloosed,andalsothatlivingnightmareyoucallacat.”

Gwynhadjustwalkedbackintotheroom,andnowsheleanedagainstthedoorframebetweenthekitchenandthehall,foldingherarmsoverherchest.“Seriously,dude,don’tcarewhosedadyouareorhowfancyawitchyouare,keeptalkingshitaboutmycat,andIwillpersonallykickyoudownthismountain.”
Simonstartedtogoalittlepurpleinthefaceatthat,soRhyssteppedforwardfromhisownspotnearthestove,handslifted.
“Allright,let’salljustcalmdownandfocusonthematterathand.”

OhChrist,hesoundedlikeWells.Whatanightmare.

Clearingherthroat,ViviennetuckedonelegunderneathherandlookedacrossthetableatSimon.“We’vebeendoingallwe
cantogetthecursereversed,Mr.Penhallow.Allofus,evenGwyn.We’retryingtomakethisright.”

“Andwhatexactlyhaveyoubeendoing?”Simonasked.Histonewasstillfrosty,butatleasthewasn’tshootingdaggersfrom
hiseyesatVivienne.Smallmercies.

Viviennepressedherlipstogether,tuckingastrandofhairbehindherearbeforesaying,“Well,we’vebeenresearching.”
“Books?”Simonasked,hisbrowsdrawingtogether,andRhysfrowned.
“Whyareyousaying‘books’likethat?Youlovebooks.IfyoucouldlegallymakebooksyourchildreninsteadofmeandBowen,
Ithinkyouwould.You’dkeepWells,obviously—”

“Becausetheanswertothissortofmagiccannotbefoundinbooks,”Simonreplied,shootingRhysaglare.“Cursesarecomplicated,complexmagic.Thereisnouniversalsolution.Thecureisintimatelywoundupinthecurseitself.Themotivationsbehindcastingit,thepowerused.Allofwhich,Ishouldadd,Icouldhavetoldyouifyou’dalertedmetowhatwashappeninghere.”
“Itriedto,remember?”Rhyssaid,shovinghishandsinhispockets.“AndyoutoldmeitwasridiculoustoeventhinkI’d
beencursed.”

“Yes,well.”
Simonlookeddown,flickedanimaginarypieceoflintoffhisjacket,andRhyswonderedifhewasalwaysgoingtoendupwanting
toscreamintheselittletête-à-têteswithhisfather.

“Thepointremains,onceyouknewwhatwasafoot,Ishould’vebeeninformed.”
“Howdidyoufindout?”Vivienneasked,leaningforwardabit.“Ifyoudon’tmindmeasking.”
“Mybrother,”Rhysanswered,thenlookedoveratSimonwithraisedeyebrows.“Iassumethat’sit,isn’tit?ItoldWells,
sohetoldyou?”

“Lewellynwasworriedaboutyou,”Simonreplied,andRhysgroaned,throwinguphishands,promisinghimselfthatthenext
timehesawhisbigbrother,fratricidewasonthemenu.

“Should’vecalledBowen,Iknewit.”
“Youwerenotkiddingaboutthedysfunctionalfamilystuff,”heheardGwynmuttertoVivienne,whoshushedher.
Risingfromherseat,Elaineheldherpalmsout,ringswinkinginthelowlight.“Whoshould’vetoldwhowhatwhenisnot
theissuerightnow.Thisisactuallygoodtoknowaboutthecursemagic.Givesussomethingtoworkoffof.”

“Somethingmorethanbooks,yes,”Simonsaid,thenlookedupatRhys,hisexpressiongrim.“You’vebeenherefornearlytwoweeks,boy,whatelsehaveyoubeendoingbesidesporingthroughuselesstomes?”
RhyskepthiseyesoffViviennebecauseheknewifheevenglancedherway,hisfatherwouldunderstandimmediatelyjustwhat
Rhyshadbeendoing.

“We’vealsobeenworkingtoreversesomeoftheeffectsofthecurse,”hesaidevenly,andevenGwynmanagednottosnort
atthat.Anditwastrue,heandViviennehadspentsometimeputtingoutvariouscurse-causedfires.

Butheknewitwasn’tenough.Heknewtheyshould’vebeentakingthismoreseriously.Itwasjustthatitwassoeasytoget
distractedbyher,soeasytogetcaughtupinhowtheyweretogether,andRhyshasmissedittoomuchtoletitgonow.

Evenifheshould.
TurningtoElaine,Simonleanedforward,bracinghishandsonthetable.“Isthereanyextrapowersourceamemberofyour
familycould’vedrawnfrom?Anancestorburiedhere,somethinglikethat.”

Elainenodded,pushingherglassesuphernose.“One,yes.AnAelwydJones.Shecameoveratthesametimeasyourvaunted
GryffudPenhallow.Butasfaraswe’vealwaysknown,therewasnothingspecialabouther.Justanotherwitchwhoemigrated
here,anddiedofsomerandomsickness,likesomanyofthemdid.”

SomethingflickeredinSimon’sface,butitwasthereandgonetooquicklyforRhystoknowwhatitwas.
“Verywell,”hesaid.
Simonstoodthen,pushingbackhisshoulders.“Ineedtoreturnhomeandconsultmyownsourcesonthis.Rhys,Ithinkyou
shouldcomewithme.”

Startled,Rhysrockedbackonhisheels.“What?”
“Ifyou’rehome,Iwillbeabletokeepaneyeonanythingthecursemightdotoyou.Itwillbenefitmyresearch.”
Thewordswerestony,detached,andhedidn’tevenlookatRhysashefishedinhispocketfortheTravelingStone,andeven
thoughRhysknew—heknew—whatafuckingcoldfishhisfatherwas,itstillhurt,evennow.Evenafterallthistime.HewantedRhystocomehomebecause
Rhyswouldbeanintriguingexperimentincursework,notbecausehewashisson;hecaredaboutitbecauseitfueledhis
interestintherealthingheloved—magicitself.

“Iwanttoseethisthroughhere,Da,”hereplied,hisvoicesurprisinglyeven,andwhenhisfatheronlygavea“Sobeit,”
inresponse,Rhystoldhimselfhe’dgottenofflightly.Afterall,SimonhadcomeallthewayfromWalesmoreorlessjust
tochidehim,andnowhe’ddonethatandwasleaving.Ithadcertainlybeenworseinthepast.

ButthenSimonpaused,hisfingertipslightlyrestingonthetable.“Hopefullymyson’spresencewillnotdistractyouladies
fromtheimportantbusinessofsellingcrystalsandnoveltyT-shirts.”

“Da,”Rhysstarted,butViviennewasalreadyrisingtoherfeet.
“WedosellanawfullotofcrystalsandnoveltyT-shirts,”shesaid,herownhandsbracedonthetable.“Wealsosellfakegrimoiresandplasticpumpkinsandpointyhats.Thewholeshebang,really.”
ThelinesaroundSimon’smouthdeepened,buthedidn’tsayanything,notevenwhenViviennesmiledandsaid,“Andyetwe’re
stillthewitcheswhomanagedtocurseyourson,andyouhadnoideaithadevenhappened.Somaybebackoffalittle.”

Shekeptsmiling,hereyeshard,hercheeksalittleflushed,andtruly,howcouldanymannotbewildlyinlovewithher?
Vivienneglancedoverathim,andsinceRhyswasfairlycertainhehadcartoonheartsliterallypouringoutofhiseyes,he
stoodup,noddingathisfather.

“I’llseeyouonyourway,shallI?”
SimonwasstilllookingatVivienne,butafteramoment,henodded,headingforthedoor.Walkinghisfatherout,Rhyspaused
atthetopoftheporchsteps.“Sorryforthewastedtrip.”

Simonturnedandlookedathim,andRhyssawthelinesaroundhismouth,carveddeep,thehollowsbeneathhischeekbones.
“Rhys,”Simonsaid,andthenheshookhishead,theTravelingStonealreadyinhishand.“Takecareofyourself.”

“Ialwayshave,”hereplied,butthewordswerebarelyoutofhismouthbeforehisfatherwasgone,blinkingoutlikealight,
leavingRhysaloneontheporch.

“Wantmetofollowyouhome?”
Ah.Notalone.
Viviennestoodinthedoorway,stillinherwitch’sdress,thehatlongsincediscarded,andRhysnodded.“I’dlikethat,
yeah.”

Ittookthemonlyaboutthreeminutestomakethedrivefromheraunt’shousetohis,andRhystoldhimselfheshouldbenothingbutrelievedthathisfatherhadcomeandgonesoquickly.Thathewasn’tstayinghereinthehousetonight
Hedroppedhiskeysonthetablebythedoor,Viviennejustbehindhim.
“Thankyou,”hesaid,turningtolookather.“Bothforseeingmehomelikealady,andalsoforputtingupwithmyfather.”
“Hereallywasn’tsobad,”shesaidwithashrug.“WaylessscarythanI’dthoughthe’dbe.”
“Vivienne,yougorgeousgirl,youareawomanofmanytalents,butlyingisnotoneofthem.”
Shesmiledalittleatthat,andthencrossedtheroomtostandinfrontofhim.“Doyouwantmetogo?”sheasked,reaching
uptobrushhishairbackfromhisface.“Getsometimetoyourself?”

“Stay,”hesaid,takingherhandandkissingherpalm,thenherwrist.Andthenhewaskissinghermouth,suddenly,desperately
needingher,wantingher,andherhandswerealreadyatthebuttononhisjeans.

“Stay,”Rhysmurmuredagain,andheknewhedidn’tjustmeantonight,butratherthansaythat,hepulledherdownontothe
sofawithhim.

“Youknow,theoneplacewherethisdecoratingschemereallyworksisinhere,”Vivisaid,leaningbackagainstRhys’schestinthegiantclaw-foottubthatdominatedthemasterbathroom.Liketherestofthehouse,itwasdoneinshadesofblackanddeepburgundy,butRhyshadtoagreewithher:inhere,themoodwasdefinitelymoreromanticthanterrifying.Ofcourse,thatmighthavebeenallthecandlesthey’dlitandthefactthathecurrentlyhadVivi,nakedandwet,pressedupagainsthim,butinanycase,Rhyswassuddenlyveryfondofthisspotinthehouse.
“Thankyou,”hemurmuredagainsthertemple,kissingthedamphairthere,andshetiltedherheadbacktolookathim.
“Forcomplimentingyourbathroom?”
“Forallofit.Forholdingyourownagainstmyfather.”
“Helovesyou,”shesaidsoftly,reachingdowntotangleherfingerswithhisunderthewater.“Yes,he’soverbearingand
kindofalot,buthe’sscared.Worried.Andyoucan’tblamehimforthat.”

Rhysdidn’twanttothinkabouthisfatherrightnow,andhedidn’twanttoexplaintoViviennethatfamilydidn’tnecessarily
meanpeoplewhocaredaboutyou.ShehadElaineandGwyn,shehadwarmthandloveandhomeandallthethingsRhyshadalways
hopedSimonmightbe,butneverhadbeen
Shewaslucky.
Andhewasluckytohaveher,evenifitwasn’tformuchlonger.Chapter28
Viviwokeupthenextmorningandhadthebrief,disorientingsensationofnotknowingwhereshewas.
Rollingover,shepushedherhairoutofherfaceandtookintheheavyvelvetdrapesandflockedwallpaper.
Rhys’shouse.
Rhys’sfather’shouse.
Rhys’sfather.
Sighing,Vivifloppedontoherbackaslastnightcamerushingback.Simonhadn’tbeenwrongaboutthemignoringthecurse,
oratleastnotpayingitasmuchattentionastheyshouldhave.They’dcursedherentiretown,andwhathadtheyspentthe
lastweekdoing?

SheglancedatRhys’ssideofthebed,alreadyempty,andherbodywentwarmwiththememoriesofthispastweek.Itfelt
sillytocallitmagic,butithadbeen.JustspendingtimewithRhysagain,showinghimaroundGravesGlen,havingdinner
withhiminherapartment,orhereinthisbizarremausoleumofahousethathad,somehow,startedtofeelalittlehomier.

Sheevenkindoflikedthecanopyifshewashonest.
ButSimonhadbeenright—Halloweenwasjustadayaway,andtheyneededtogetseriousaboutthis.
EasiersaidthandonewhenitcomestoRhys,shethought,pushingthesheetsback.

WhichiswhyitwassomethingofashocktocomedownstairsandseeRhysfullydressedinthekitchen,apairofsunglasses
caughtinthedeepVofhisshirt,twotravelmugsofcoffeeinhishands.

“Morning,mydarling,”hesaid,entirelytoochipperfor—Vivicheckedthegrandfatherclockinthehallway—barelysevenin
themorning.

“Whoareyou,andwhathaveyoudonewithRhysPenhallow?”sheasked,narrowinghereyesathimevenasshetookoneofthe
mugsfromhim.

“Idorunabusiness,youknow.Ioccasionallygetupearly,andhaveevenbeenknowntomakeaspreadsheetortwo.”
“Entirelytooearlyfordirtytalk.”
Rhyssmirkedatthat,leaningovertokissthetipofhernose.“Gogetdressed,andinthecar,I’lltellyouallaboutmy
spreadsheetsandthecolor-codedfoldersIkeepinmyoffice.”

“Thecar?”Viviasked,wishingthecoffeewouldmakeitswaytoherbrainalready.
“Wehaveanerrandtorun,”Rhysreplied,andsomethingaboutthesuddenlyfirmlineofhismouth,thesetofhisshoulders,
toldherthiswasaboutthecurse.

TwentyminutesandaphonecalltoGwynlater,Viviwasshowered,dressedinapairofjeansshe’dleftatElaine’sandastripedsweaterthatactuallybelongedtoGwyn,plusherownblackbootsfromthenightbefore,andsheandRhyswereinhisrentalcar,headingnorthoutofGravesGlen.
“Iguessaboutnowwouldbeafabuloustimetotellmewhatthiserrandactuallyentails,”Vivisaid,reachinguptotwist
herhairintoamessybun.

Rhysglancedoverather.Hehadhissunglasseson,thesleevesofhisdarkgraybutton-downrolledup,andViviwondered
whyitwasthatshecould’vehadsomuchsexwiththisman,andstillbesoturnedonbysomethingasbasicashisforearms
whiledriving.Wasthatsomekindofheretoforeunknownfetishofhers,orwasitjustthateverythingaboutRhysturnedher
on?

Thenhesaid,“We’regoingtoletthatghostoutofthecandle,”andherlibidogotahealthysplashofcoldwater.
“I’msorry,what?”sheasked,herhandsstillfrozenontopofherhead,theponytailholderstretchedbetweentwofingers
asshestaredathim.

“PiperMcBride,”heanswered,ascalmandcollectedasever,andViviscowledathimassheletherhandsdrop,herhairfalling
backtohershoulders.

“Thatwouldbethewho,Rhys.WhatImeantwas,‘Whatthehelldoyoumean,we’relettingheroutofthatcandle?’Wedon’tevenknowwherethat
candleisrightnow.”

“Actually,”Rhyssaid,reachingovertopickuphistravelmug,“wedo.”
HecasuallysippedhiscoffeeandVivigrumbledasshewentbacktofixingherhair.
“Thisispunishmentfornottellingyouabouttheghostinthefirstplace,isn’tit?”
“Littlebit,yes,”hesaid,thengaveherthathalfsmilethatalwayshithersomewheresquarelyinthechest.“Allright,
cardsonthetable.Icouldn’tsleeplastnight,andwhilestaringatyouwhileyousleepisatreasuredpastime—”

“Creeper.”
Thatgrinagain,andaquicksqueezetoherthigh.“Idecidedtoputmyinsomniatouse.Myfatherwasright,muchassaying
thatmakesmewanttodie.It’salmostSamhain,andweneedtobefocusedonthecurse.SoIthoughttomyself,‘Rhys,you
devilishlyhandsomebastard,whatwasthelasttrulysolidleadyougotonthecurse?’AndthenIrememberedol’Piperwith
her‘cursedPenhallow’bit,anditstruckmethatshemightknowmorethanweletherrevealbeforethecandlesuckedher
in.”

VivinoddedslowlyevenasherstomachwenticyatthethoughtofdealingwithPiperagain.“Okay,Icanseeallthat,”she
agreed.“ButTamsynBlighhasthecandleifshehasn’talreadysoldit.Andgodknowswheresheis.”

“She’stwotownsover,”Rhyssaid,turningleftoffthehighway.“InaplacecalledCade’sHollow.”
Viviblinkedathim.“Howdoyouknowthat?”
Rhystappedthesideofhisnosewithonelongfinger.“Can’ttrustdoingmagicinGravesGlen,butthatdoesn’tmeanIcan’tgetotherpeopletodomagicforme.Specifically,inthiscase,mybrotherLlewellyn.Wankerowesmeone.SoIcalledhim,hadhimrunalittletrackingspellforme.Now,hadMissBlighalreadybeenontheothersideofthecountry,wemighthaveneededaplanB,butturnsout,shedidn’tgofar.”
“Butshemightnotstillhavethecandle,”Vivisaid,notwantingtogetherhopesup,andRhysnodded.
“Shemightnot,”heagreed.“Butwe’llburnthatbridgewhenwecometoit.”
“Cross.Thesayingis‘crossthatbridgewhenwecometoit.’”
“Huh,”wasRhys’sonlyreply,andVivisettledbackintoherseat,watchingtheearlymorningsunplayoverthepurplish-blue
mountains,watchedasthefieldsslowlybecamehouses,andasthehousesgavewaytoatownevensmallerthanGravesGlen.

Oncethedowntownwasbehindthem,Rhystookanotherseriesofturns,eventuallypullingupinfrontofaVictorianmansion
thatlookedlikeaweddingcake,allgingerbreadtrimandpeakedroofs,awreathofautumnleavesadorningthefrontdoor.

Shuttingoffthecar,Rhysduckedhisheaddowntostudythebuildingthroughthewindshield.
“She’sataB-and-B?”Viviasked.
“ThiswasdefinitelytheaddressWellsgaveme,”Rhyssaid,then,afterapause,added,“Youknow,whenwe’redonehere,we
couldgetaroom,and—”

“Rhys.”Vivigavehimalook.“Focus,please.”
“Sorry,you’reright.Curseworknow,sexlater.”
Theygotoutofthecar,themorningchillyandstillalittledamp,dewsparklingonthethickbushesoutsidethebed-and-breakfastastheymadetheirwayupthesteps,andVivismiledatthelittlejack-o’-lanternsittingonawickertablejustoutsidethefrontdoor.
Bellschimedoverheadastheyopenedthefrontdoor,andacheerfulblondwomanbehindalargeoakcounterbeamedatthetwo
ofthem.“Goodmorning!HowcanIhelpyou?”

Vivirealizedshehadn’taskedRhysifhehadaplanforhowtheyweregoingtotalktoTamsyn.Anyhotelworthitssaltwasn’t
justgoingtoofferuptheroomnumberofaguest,andViviwasn’tsurehowlongtheycouldjusthangoutinthelobby,hoping
Tamsyncamedown.

Rhyssmiledatthewomanbehindthecounter.“We’reactuallyhopingtosayhellotoafriend,”hesaid,hisaccentthicker
thanusual,andVivifoughttheurgetoelbowhimintheribs.

Charm.Thatwashisentireplan.Smile,dropafewWelshwordsin,dothatLeaningThingagainstthecounterwhilehishair
didthatOtherThing,andhopeforthebest,akatheRhysPenhallowSpecial.

ButbeforeRhyscouldevendotheLeaningThing,footstepswerepoundingdownthemassivestaircasetotheirright,andAmanda—no,
TamsynBligh—wassuddenlythere,practicallyleaningoverthebannister.“Hi,youtwo!”shesaid,hervoicesobrightand
cheerythatViviwassurprisedcartoonbirdsdidn’tappearbyherhead.

AndthenVivinoticedhowpaleshewas,thedeepshadowsunderhereyesandthathersmilehadakindofrictusqualityto
it.

ShewavedatbothRhysandVivi.“Comeonupstairs!Sogladyou’rehere!”
RhysshotVivithemosteloquentWhatthefuck?lookshe’deverseen,andthenthesmilewasback,theeasycharm,andheslippedanarmaroundVivi’swaist,pullingher
towardthestairsastheblondwomanbehindthecounterwentbacktohercomputer.

“Goodtoseeyou,too,”Rhyssaidastheyclimbedthesteps,followingTamsyn,whonearlysprintedtoherroom.
ThisB-and-Bstillusedbigold-fashionedkeys,andVivisawTamsyn’shandstremblealittleassheunlockedthedoor.
RhysandVivifollowedherinside,andViviimmediatelygaspedatthecoldintheroomdespitethefirecracklinginthefireplace,
tuggingthesleevesofhersweaterdownoverherhandsassheglancedaround.Theroomwasdark,curtainsdrawn,andthere,
inthemiddleofthefloor,wastheEurydiceCandle.

Tamsynclosedthedoor,andwhirledaroundtofacethem.
“Youguyshavegottohelpme.”Chapter29
“Andwhyexactlywouldwedothat?”Viviasked,foldingherarmsoverherchest.“Youliedtome.”
“Idid,”Tamsynreplied,notsoundingallthatsorryaboutit.Thensheschooledherexpressionintosomethingalittlemore
contrite.“Andthatwaswrongofme,butIhadaverygoodreason.”

“Whichwas?”Rhysasked,walkingovertothefireplacetobraceahandagainstthemantel.
TamsynlookedbetweenhimandVivi,andthensighed.“Okay,IwasgonnasaysomethingabouthowIneededatrappedghostto
savemygrandmaorsomething,butreally,Ijustwantedtomakeawholebunchofmoney.PeoplewillpaythousandsforaEurydice
Candlethathasaghostinit,andonewithawitchghost?Please.IwasgoingtospendthesummerinPortugalfromthisonesalealone.But”—sheglaredatthecandlewhereitsat—“turns
out,Ican’toff-loadthatthingafterall.Something’swrongwithit.”

Shegesturedaroundtheroom.“Seehowcolditis?Howdark?It’sbeendoingthateverydaysinceIgothere,andit’sjustgettingworse.”
Vivislowlymadeherwayovertothecandle,andimmediatelysawwhatTamsynmeant.Thewholethingwasradiatingakindof
darkenergythatletherknowPiper’sghostmightstillbetrapped,butitwasveryunhappyaboutit.

“EurydiceCandlesaren’tsupposedtodothat,”Rhyssaidinalowvoice,comingtostandbesideVivi.
“Yeah,noshit,”Tamsynreplied,placingonehandonherhip.“I’veboughtandsoldtonsofthethingsbutthatone?It’s
completelybusted.AndIcan’tjustdumpitsomewhere,andIdefinitelydidnotwanttotakeittothewitchesatyourcollege,
soI’vebeenstuckhere,tryingtofigureoutwhattodo,andthenyoutwoshoweduplikesomekindofwitchyangels.”

“You’renotawitch,then?”Viviasked,lookingbackoverhershoulderatTamsyn.
“Definitelynot,”sherepliedwithalittleshudder.“Justmakemoneyofftheirstuff.”
“Andlietopeopletoobtainsaidstuff,”Rhyssaid,towhichTamsynshrugged.
“Noonegothurt.”
“Yet,”Vivisaid,reachingdowntopickupthecandle.Itwassocoldtothetouch,italmostburned,andshewincedasshe
tuggedathersweater,coveringherhandsoshecouldcarryit.

“WhyareyoustillsoclosetoGravesGlen?”Viviaskedassheturnedaround,thecandlestillfreezinginherhand.“Iwould’ve
thoughtyouwould’vegottenasfarfromthereasyoucould’ve.”

“Thatwastheplan,”shesaidonasigh,thennoddedatthecandle.“Butdoyouwannatakethatthingonaplane?”
“Fairpoint,”Rhysmuttered,glancingaroundtheobviouslyhauntedroom.
“Iguesswecandoyouthefavoroftakingthisoffyourhands,”Vivisaid,makingherselfsoundirritatedandnotrelieved.
“Atgreatpersonalcosttoourselves,”Rhysadded,hisvoicesolemn,expressionsoseriousVivihadtobitebackagrin.
“Ohgod,thankyou,”Tamsynsaid,hershoulderssagging.“Andseriously,I’msorryabouttrickingyouintotrappingtheghost
forme.Really.Youseemnice.AndIlikedyouroffice.”

“Thanks?”Vivireplied,andthenRhyshadhishandonherlowerback,steeringhertowardthedoor.
“Christ,thatwaseasy,”hemutteredoncetheywereoutinthehall,andthenhelookedaroundattheheavywoodendoors.
“Youknow,wehavesomeextratimenow.Iexpectedthistotakeupmuchmoreoftheday.Soifyouwanted…”

“No,”Vivireplied,pokinghiminthechest.“We’renotgettingaroom.We’retakingthisthingstraighttoAuntElaine.”
Givingaheavysigh,Rhyscuppedherfacewithonehand,leaningintobrushakissagainsthermouth.“Ibothloveandhate
whenyou’resensible,Vivienne.”

Okay,weprobablyshould’vegottenaroom,VivithoughtseveralhourslaterasshesatshiveringinthewoodsbeyondElaine’scabin.They’dgottenbacktoGravesGlenbeforenoon,butElainewasinsistentthatthiskindofmagicneededtobedoneatnight,underthemoon,althoughnow,asVivihuddledalittleclosertoRhys,shewonderedifthiswasmoreofAuntElainejustleaningintoaesthetics.
Acrossfromher,Gwynsatwithherkneesdrawnuptoherchest,watchingAuntElainepourasaltcircleontheforestfloor,
theEurydiceCandleinthemiddle,stillradiatingcold.“Thisisextremelymetalofus,”Gwynobserved,thenglanceddown
atherself.“ProbablywouldbemoremetalifIweren’twearingmypumpkinjammies,butwhatcanyoudo?”

Snorting,RhyswrappedanarmaroundVivi’sshoulders,tugginghercloser.“Trustme,havingseenthisghostinthe…
well,inthefleshisn’tappropriate,buthavingseenit…inpersonisn’tgoodeither,isit?Inanycase,”hefinally
said,shrugging.“Theghostismetalenoughforallofus.”

“Andthisghosthatesyou,yes?”AuntElaineasked,thebellsonherskirtjinglingsoftlyasshecompletedthecircle.
“Seemsto,yes.”
“Hmmm.”Shepushedherglassesupthebridgeofhernose.“Thenmaybemovealittlefartherback.”
RhyslookeddownatVivi,andshenodded,rememberinghimflyingthroughtheairatthelibrary,theangerintheghost’s
eyeswhenithadseenhim.Elaine’stheorywasthatbecausePiperMcBridehadbeenawitch,shemightbealittlemorereceptive
totalkingtofellowwitches,especiallyoneswhoweresettingherfree.VivihadremindedElainethatshehadalsobeentheonetocapturePiper,butElainewashopingPiperwouldn’trememberthatbit.

“Ghostsdon’talwayshaveagoodsenseofwhat’sgoingon,”she’dsaid.“Timedoesn’texactlyhaveanymeaningforthem.”
Vivihopedshewasright.
Rhyshadstoodupandmovedbackintothedarkness,leaningagainstatreeasViviandGwynbothrosetotheirfeet,standing
onoppositesidesofthesaltcircle.

“Vivi?”AuntElaineasked,handingheracardboardtubeoflongmatches.“Wouldyouliketodothehonors?”
Andso,forthesecondtimeinherlife,VivilitaEurydiceCandle.
Itwasdifferentthistime.Therewasnoslowcreepingfeelingasaspiritwasdrawnin.Instead,thecandlesparked,flamed,
andsuddenlyPiperMcBridewasthere,inallherfloaty,seriouslypissedoffglory.

Shewasemittingenoughlighttocastthemallinablue-greenglow,andacrossthecircle,Gwyn’seyeswenthugeinherface.
“Oh,shit,aghost,”shebreathed,thenflutteredherhands.“Imean,Iknewweweregonnaseeone,butthere’sknowingand
thenthere’sactuallyseeingit.”

Piperfloatedaroundtofaceher,andeveninthedimlight,VivicouldseeGwynswallowhard.“Um.Niceshirt,bytheway.
IlikeNirvana,too.”

Theghostturnedslowly,takinginViviandElaine,andwhileherexpressiondidn’tchangeallthatmuch,Vivididn’tget
thesenseshewasasangrythistime.

MaybeElainehadbeenright.
“Areyouacoven?”Piperasked,hervoicesoundinglikeitwascomingfromfaraway,aneerieeffectgivenhowcloseshewastothem.
“Yes,”Vivisaid,eventhoughitwasn’ttechnicallytrue,andtheghostturnedbacktoher.
“You,”shesaid,upperlipcurlingslightly.“I’veseenyou.”
Hermouthsuddenlydry,Vivilickedherlips.“Right.Inthelibrary.”
Piperwasfullysnarlingnow.“WithaPenhallow.”
“Right.Whichiswhatwewanttotalktoyouabout,actually.YouknewRhys,thePenhallow,wascursed.Andyouwereright.
I’mtheonewhocursedhim,so—”

“Itwasn’tyou.”
Thewordswereflat,almostbored,andViviwonderedifshe’dmisheard.
“What?”
“IknowthemagicsurroundingthatPenhallow,”Pipersaid,stillhoveringovertheground,butstartingtoseemmorelikeateenagegirl,lesslikeaterrifyingsupernatural
being.“Anditwasnotyours.Ornotonlyyours.”
“Whosewasit,then?”Elaineasked,andPipertwistedagaintofaceher.
“Thereisothermagicrunninginthebloodofthistown,”Pipersaid,“magicthatwasstolenbythePenhallows.Hidden.AelwydJonesdeservesherrevenge.”
AelwydJones
Vivi’sancestor,theoneburiedhereinthetowncemetery.
ShelookedatElaine,whosefacewascreasedinconfusion.“Ourancestordidn’thavepowerfulmagic,”shetoldPiper.“Shewasaregularwitch,likeallthewomeninourfamily.”
“Shewasmorepowerfulthananyoneknew,”Piperretorted,“butGryffudPenhallowstolefromher,usedher,erasedhername.”
“How?”
ViviwhirledaroundtoseeRhysstepforwardjustasPiper’sgazefixedonhim,andanytraceoftheregulargirlvanished.
Hereyeswentblack,hairstreamingback,andwiththatsameunearthlyhowlVivihadheardinthelibrary,shelaunchedherself
atRhys.

Withoutthinking,Vivisteppedforward,puttingherselfbetweenPiperandRhys,herfootsteppingintothesaltcircle,breaking
it,andfeltsomethingicycoldwashoverher,pushingintoher,hervisionwhitingoutassuddenlyPiper’sownthoughts,
ownmemories,swirledthroughhermind.

PiperinthelibraryresearchingGravesGlen’shistory,herblackhairhangingdownoveranotebook,AelwydJoneswritteninpurpleink,Piperinthecabinatheraltar,candleslit,runesglowingandaspell,aspelltoraiseAelwyd’s
spirit,butit’stoomuch,themagicistoomuchandPipercanfeelitpullingather,suckingherdown,andthenit’sdark,
it’ssodark,andit’scold…

Vivigasped,leavescrunchingunderherfingersasthecoldrushedoutofher,herheartracing,hervisionstillblurryas
shetriedtomakesenseofwhatshe’djustseen.

“Vivienne.”
Rhyswaskneelingdownnexttoher—howhadsheendedupontheground?—hishandsonhershoulders,hisfacepale,andVivilookedbeyondhimtoseePiperstillhoveringoverthecandle,thesaltcirclerepaired,Elainelookingfrazzled.
“I’mfine,”shemanagedtocroak,eventhoughshewasn’tsureshewas.“Really.”
SheletRhyshelphertoherfeet,leaningheavilyagainsthimasshestaredupatPiper.
“TryingtocontactAelwydkilledyou,”shesaid,hervoicestillraspy,andPipernoddedevenasshecontinuedtoglareat
Rhys.

“Itwasn’therfault.Itwasmine.Mymagicwasn’tstrongenoughtobreakthebondsthatheldher.”
HergazeswungtoVivi.“Butyourswas.Youcalledherforthwithyourcurse,andshegaveyoupowerbecauseyou’reherblood.”
“Abloodcurse,”Elainesaid,frowning.“Ididn’teventhinkofthat.”
“Isthatbad?”Gwynasked,andthenshookherhead.“Okay,stupidquestion,anythingcalleda‘bloodcurse’isclearlybad.”
“Sohowdoweliftit?”ViviaskedPipernow,andPipersmiled.
“Youcan’t.OnlyAelwydcandothat.”
“Butshe’sdead,”Gwynsaid,handsonherhips.“Becauseshegotanearinfectionorwhateveritwasthatkilledpeopleback
then.”

“Gryffudkilledher,”Piperretorted.“Whenhedrainedhermagicfromhertofuelthistown.Hecovereditup,saidshe’ddiedfrominfluenza.”
Gwynblinkedatthat,andVivithoughtagainofthatcave,themagicpulsingthroughtheleylines.Notjustmagic,butAelwyd’s
verylifeforce,takenfromher.

“Still,”Gwynwenton.“Youdiedtryingtocontacther,soitseemslikeaskinghertoliftthiscurseiskindofoutofthequestion.”
“Shewouldn’tliftitevenifshecould,”Piperreplied.“I’veseenwhatit’sdonetothistown.Thistown,GryffudPenhallow’slegacy,suffers.SodoesGryffudPenhallow’sheir.”
ThosemalevolenteyesfixedonRhysagain,whostaredbackather,nonplussed.
“Me?”hesaid,layingahandonhischest.“I’mnotreallyhis‘heir.’Thereareloadsofus.”
“Butyou’retheonewho’shere.”Pipersmirked.“AndtomorrowisSamhain,whentheveilisthethinnest,andAelwyd’smagicwillbeatitsmostpowerful.”
Halloween.Tomorrow.
Vivilookedattheghost,herbloodsuddenlyicecold,herstomachclenched.“Soyou’resaying—”
“Thecursereachesitszenithtomorrownightatmidnight,”Pipersaid,andthatsmileturnedpoisonous.“Tomorrownight,boththistownandthePenhallowdie.”Chapter30
Vivi’swholebodyachedassheandRhysmadethedriveuptohishouse,andshewasmoretiredthanshe’deverbeeninher
life.Akindofbone-deeptiredthatmadethingslikeunbucklingherseatbeltandopeningthecardoorseemimpossible.

Rhysmust’veseenitbecausehereachedoverandpushedthebuttonforher,thenwalkedaroundtohersideofthecarand
openedthedoor,helpingherout.

“Wantmetocarryyou?”heasked,andshelookedupathishouse.
“Nooffense,butgettingbridal-carriedintothishousemightmakemefeelliketheswooningheroineinahorrormovie.”
“Understood,”Rhyssaidwithalittlesmile,buthestillputhisarmaroundherastheymadetheirwayuptheporchsteps.
“Whoknewgettingmomentarilypossessedwassodraining?”sheasked,andasRhysunlockedthedoor,helookedoverather
again,eyessearchingherface.

“You’resureyou’reallright?”
Shewas,technically.Okayinbodyatleast,justtired.
Itwasherheartthatached.
Tomorrownight,boththistownandthePenhallowdie.
Piper’svoicewassoclearinhermind,thewayhereyeshadburnedasshe’dglaredatRhys.
Rhys,whowas…whistlingastheywalkedintothehouse.
Vivifollowedhim,watchingashetossedhiskeysontothetable,thenwentintothekitchen,emergingwithacoupleofbottles
ofwater.

“AtleastnowthatPiperhassaidherpiece,shecanstophauntingthelibrary,”Rhyssaid,andthatwasonegoodthingthat
hadcomeoutofthisnight.Onceshe’ddeliveredherpronouncement,she’dvanished,theEurydiceCandlecrumblingintodust,
andVivihadthesenseshewasgoneforgoodthistime,nobindingspellsnecessary.Butitstillmadehersad,thethought
ofthatbright,talentedwitchfeelingherpowerslowlydrainawayassheattemptedmagicthatwasentirelytoomuchforher.
Itfeltlikesuchawaste.

RhyshandedViviabottleofwater,flippinghisowninhishandacoupleoftimesbeforeopeningit.“Still,missionaccomplished
andallthat.”Hemovedtowardher,butVivisteppedbackfromhim,suddenlynotquiteasexhausted.

“Rhys,didyoumissthepartwhereifwedon’tfixthistomorrownight,you’regoingtodie?”

Hestoodthereinthelivingroom,nonchalant,sippinghiswater.“Soshesays.”
Vivigapedathim.“No,notsoshesays.Seriously.You’lldieunlesswecanraiseAelwyd’sspiritandsomehowconvincehertoforgiveyouforthesinsofyourfamily.Which,letmeremindyou,isaverytallorder.”
“Neverknowuntilwetry,sodon’treallyseemuchpointworryingaboutit,”hesaid,andthensethisbottleonthetable,
walkingovertotakeherhands.

“Now,shouldIdie,IwasthinkingsomekindofVikingfuneral.Launchmeinafieryboat,youknow?Dotheyhavelakesaround
here?”

Jerkingherhandsoutofhis,Vivistaredintothoseblueeyes,thathandsomeface,andonceagain,shecouldseeGwyn’scard
forhimclearasday.TheFool,cheerfullywalkingoffmountains.

“Canyounotmakejokesaboutthis?”shesnapped,andRhysrockedbackonhisheels,atrioofcreasesappearingonhisforehead.
“Sorry,”hesaid.“Iforgotwhatanightyou’vehad.Notagoodtimeforquips,you’reright.”
“Don’tdothat.”
“Dowhat?”
Crossingherarms,Vivifacedhimtherebythefrontdoor,herheadpounding,hermouthdry.
“ActlikeIdon’tthinkit’sfunnyjustbecauseI’mtired.Idon’tthinkit’sfunnybecausethere’snothingamusingtome
aboutyoupossiblydying,especiallysinceit’smyfault.”

Hervoicecrackedonthelastword,andshefelttearsstinghereyes.
Pleasedon’tletmecryinfrontofhim,pleasedon’tletmecryinfrontofhim…
Butitwastoolate,andhemadeapainedsoundashereachedforheragain.
Backingaway,Viviliftedherhands.“No.I’m…okay,I’mnotfine,butIjust…”
Shelookedathimandsaidthewordsinherheart,thewordsthatwerescaringhersomuch.“Whatifwecan’tfixit,Rhys?”
“Butwhatifwecan?”

Hereachedforheragain,andthistime,Vivilethim,lethimpullheragainsthim,hisarmswrappedtightaroundheras
sherestedherheadonhisshoulder,closinghereyes,andfeelingherheartsinksomewheresouthofhernavel.

ThiswasRhys.Thiswaswhohewas.Andshelovedthatabouthim,thekindofcheerfuloptimismthatitwouldallgohisway
because,honestly,italwayskindofhad.

Hewouldalwaysbelikethis.
Andhewouldalwaysbreakherheart.Hewouldn’tmeanto,hedefinitelywouldn’twantto,buthewould.
Andwhoknewwhatwouldhappenthen?Vivihadn’tmeantforanyofthistohappen,butithad,allbecauseshe’dlovedhim
toomuch,felttoomanybigfeelingsforhim.Andmaybeawomanwhodidn’thavewitchcraftrunningthroughherveinscould
riskthatkindofthing,butVivicouldn’t.

Notagain.
Swallowinghard,shepulledaway.“I’mgoingtogobacktoElaine’stonight,”shesaid,andhefrowned.
“Vivienne—”
“I’llseeyoutomorrow,”shesaid,makingherselfsmileevenasshewipedhertearsawaywiththeflatofherhand.“Andyou’reright,we’llfixthis,andit’llbefine,andyoucangobacktoWaleswithoutmecallingyouafuckerneckagain.”
Hestillwasn’tsmiling,buthenoddedandlethergo.“Icandriveyouback,”hesaid,handsinhispockets,eyesserious.
“I’llwalk,”shesaid.“It’snotfar.”
Anditwasn’t,thefresheveningairdoinghersomegoodasshemadeherwaybacktoElaine’s.Shewasn’tevencryinganymore
asshewalkedinthefrontdoor.

“Vivi,”SirPurrcivalsaidfromhisbasket,andshesmiledasshecroucheddowntopethim.
“Learningnewwordseveryday!Lookatyougo.”
“Treats?”heasked,blinkingthosebiggreeneyes,andfromthekitchen,Gwyncalled,“Don’tgivehimany!He’seatenhis
weightinthemalready.”

Vivifollowedthesoundofhercousin’svoice,proppingahipagainstthekitchentablewhileGwynstirredsomethingonthe
stove.

“NotstayingwithRhystonight?”
“Nope.Neededabreather.”
Gwyndidn’treplytothatforalongtime,andthensheturnedawayfromwhateveritwasshewasboilingandsaid,“Youcan
sayyou’reinlovewithhim,youknow.”

“I’mnot,”Viviargued,butsheturnedawaysothatshedidn’tactuallyhavetolietoGwyn’sface.“It’sjust…like
itwasbefore.Aninfatuation.Reallygoodsex.Adistraction.”

“Vivi.”
GwynhadcrossedthekitchenandhadherhandsonVivi’sshouldersasshegentlyturnedheraround.“Ilovegoodsexanddistractionsmorethanjustaboutanything.ButIalsocanrecognizewhensomethingistherealdeal.Andthisis,isn’tit?”
Vivicould’vewithstoodalotofthings.Sarcasm,prying,possiblyeventorture.HadGwynattemptedanyofthose,shewould’ve
beenabletobreezilyinsistthatshewasnotinlovewithRhysPenhallow,andthatshewasjustatwenty-first-centurywoman
havingagoodtimeinthemidstofwhatwasotherwiseatotalmess.

ButGwynwaslookingathersosincerelywiththosebigblueeyesthathadalwaysseenrightintohersoul,andoh,goddammit,
nowshewascrying.Again.

Justalittle,butthatwasenoughforGwyn.
Herfacecreasinginexaggeratedsympathy,GwynpulledViviin,smotheringherinorangewoolandthescentoflavender.
“Babygirl.”Gwynsighed,andVivihuggedherback,lettingherselfcry.
“It’ssostupid!”
“Soislove,tobehonest.”
“We’recompletelywrongforeachother!”
“Whichiswhyit’shot.”
“Icursedhim,Gwynnevere.”

“Whoamongushasn’t.”
Pullingback,VivistaredatGwynbeforeswipingatherwetcheeks.“Evenyouhavetoadmitthisisverybadtiming.”
ButGwynonlyshrugged.“There’snoreallygoodtimingforthiskindofthing,isthere?Findingyourperson?Itjustkindofhappenswhenithappens.Orsotheysay.”
Withthat,sheturnedbacktothestove,andforthefirsttime,Vivinoticedwhatshewasmaking—theparticularlysweetand,
inVivi’sopinion,grosshotteathatGwynhadalwaysloved,amixoftrulyobsceneamountsofsugar,blacktea,abunchof
spicesandorange-flavoredKool-Aid.

ItwasGwyn’sgo-tocomfortdrink,evenabovevodka,anditalwayssignaledsomethingbad.
“Jane?”Viviventured,andGwyndidn’tturnaround.
“Talkaboutpeoplewhowerecompletelywrongforeachother.”
Withoutsayinganythingelse,ViviwalkedoverandputherarmsaroundGwyn’swaist,restinghercheekagainstGwyn’sback.
Then,afterapause,sheasked,“Wannacurseher?”

Gwynburstintolaughter,droppingherhandstocoverVivi’s,andsqueezed.“Youknow,let’swaittoseehowyoursitchturns
outbeforeweattemptcursingagain,okay?”

“Fair,”Vivianswered,givingGwynonemorehugbeforegoingovertothecabinettogetthembothmugs.
Tonight,she’dsitatthekitchentableanddrinkGwyn’sBreakupTea.
Andtomorrow,she’dmakeadealwiththedevil.
Maybeliterally.Chapter31
Rhyswokeuponwhatmightbethelastdayofhislifeinanunsurprisinglybadmood.
Forone,hewasalone.
He’dsleptononesideofthemassivebedlastnight,likesomekindofheartsickidiot,andnow,asherolledoverandstretched
hishandouttotheplacewhereVivienneshouldbe,hefeltverymuchlikesomekindofheartsickidiot.

He’dfuckeduplastnight.Badly.
Andhewasn’tsureexactlywhere.Heknewshe’dbeenupsetaboutthecurseandwhatitmeant,buthebelievedinher.Believed
inthem,thattheycouldfixthis,andithadstungthatsheclearlydidn’thavethesamefaith.

Butthen,sheneverhadhadahugeamountoffaithinhim.Rhysmighthavebungledthatsummerprettybadly,butshehadn’t
evengivenhimachancetoexplain,hadimmediatelyassumedtheabsoluteworstinterpretationofwhathe’dsaid,anduntil
thismoment,hehadn’trealizedthatthathadstung,too.

Viviennehadlovedhim,butshedidn’ttrusthim.
Shedidn’ttrusthimnow.
Andnowhewaslyinginblacksatinsheetsandbrooding,whichwasfranklyhumiliating.
Rhyssighedandheavedhimselfupinthebedjustashisphonewentoffonthenightstand,andhisstupid,treacherousheart
immediatelyleapt,thinkingitmightbeVivienne.

Butno,itwasBowenonavideocall,andasRhysanswered,theybothstaredateachotherinhorror.
“What’shappenedtoyourface?”RhysaskedjustasBowenscowledandsaid,“You’renaked.”
Sittinguphigherinthebed,Rhysdugtheheelofhisfreehandintooneeye.“No,I’mnot,Ijustwokeup,and—”
“Whywouldyouansweravideocallnaked?”
“Whywouldyouattachabadgertoyourface?”
Foramoment,thetwobrothersglaredateachotherthroughtheirrespectivephones,andthenasmilecrackedthroughall
thatbeard.“Itiskindofoutofcontrol,isn’tit?”heasked,rubbinghisjaw.

“Itneedsitsownpostcode,mate,”Rhysreplied,buthewassmiling,too.Bowen,was,likeWells,arightpaininthearse
alotofthetime,butitwasalsogoodtoseehim,evenifhehadgrowntheworld’smostterrifyingbeard.

“Wellstoldmeyoufuckedup,”Bowensaid,tothepointasalways.“Gotyourselfcursed.”
“It’salongstory,”Rhyswarned,butBowenonlygrunted,pullingthephonebacktoshowRhysthedesolatemountainsidehe
wassittingon.

“Icouldusetheentertainment.”
SoRhystoldhim,allofit,startingwiththesummernineyearsago,endingwithViviennewalkingoutofhishouseintears
lastnight.

Whenhewasdone,Bowenwasfrowning,butsincethatwasoneofBowen’sdefaultexpressions,Rhyswasn’tthatconcerned.
“She’sright,”hefinallysaid.“Aboutyounevertakingshiteseriously.”
“That’snottrue,”Rhysobjected.“Itakelotsofshiteseriously.Mybusiness.Her.Iwouldtakeyouseriously,butIcan’t
becauseofthatbeard.”

“See,that’swhatImean,”Bowensaid,pointingatthephonewithonefinger.“Alwaystakingthepiss,makingjokes.Yousay
shedoesn’ttrustyou,buthowcanshewhenyouactlikenothingmatterstoyou?Likeit’sallabigfuckinglark?”

Rhysblinked.“Haveyoustartedgivingfreetherapytosheepupthere,Bowen?”
Bowen’sscowldeepened,andRhysheldupahandinsurrender.“Right,right,Igetit,I’mdoingitagain.”
Hedidn’tknowhowtoexplaintoBowen,amanwhohadalwayssaidexactlywhathewasthinkinginthebluntestwaypossible,
thatitwaseasierforhimtododgeandweave,nottoletanyoneknowthingsevergottohim.Toliveliferightonthesurface
andnotworryaboutgettingtoodeep.

Butthethingwas,hewasalreadyintoodeep.HewasinlovewithVivienne.Had,hewasbeginningtorealize,neverstoppedlovingher.Thatsummerhadn’tjustbeenafling—ithadbeentherealdeal.
Andhe’dfuckeditup.Justlikehewasfuckingitupnow.
“Tellherhowyoufeel,”Bowensaidnow.“Behonest.Oh,andalsodon’tdietonight.”
“Thanks,”Rhyssaidwitharuefulsmile.“Takecareofyourselfupthere.Andshave.”
Bowenflippedhimoff,buthewasgrinningastheyhungup,andRhysgotoutofbedfeelingalittlebitbetter.
HejustneededtoseeVivienneandtellherthetruth.Tellherhewasheadoverheelsforher,andthatyes,tonightscared
himshitless,buthetrustedher.

Theissuewashowtotellher.Itwasn’texactlythesortofthingonedeclaredovertext.He’dgotoheraunt’s,tellher
there.

ButwhenhedrovedownthemountainandknockedonElaine’sdoor,shewastheonlyonethere.
Well,herandthecat.
AssoonasElaineopenedthedoor,thelittlefurrybastardlookedupatRhysandverysuccinctlysaid,“Dickbag.”
“Idefendedyoutheothernight,mate,”Rhyssaid,shakingafingeratSirPurrcival.“Don’tmakemeregretit.”
Elainechuckledatthat,leaningdowntoscoopupthecat,butshedidn’tinviteRhysin,andwhenshelookedhimover,he
feltlikeshecouldseeintohissoul.

“You’reheretotellViviyouloveher,”shefinallysaid,andhenodded.
“Alongwithsomeotherthings,yes,butthat’sthemainone.Butsinceshedoesn’tappeartobehere,I’lljustpopoverto—”
“Rhys.”
Elainelaidahandonhisarm,andforthefirsttime,henoticedthatshehadthesamehazeleyesasVivienne.Thoseeyes
werekindnow,butRhysknewhewasn’tgoingtolikewhatshewasabouttosay.

“She’salreadyhome,gettingreadyfortonight.Themagicsheneedstodois…it’smorethanshe’severdonebefore.
Honestly,it’smorethanI’veeverdonebefore,andittakespreparation.Youcan’tdisturbthat.”

Rhysfeltlikesomeonehadjustpunchedhiminthestomach.
Hewastoolate.
Itseemedlikehewasalwaystoofuckinglate.
“Right,”hesaid,makinghimselfsmileatElaine.“Definitelynot.”
Elainesqueezedhisarm.“Tellherafter.”
“Iwill,”hereplied,evenasuneasecrawledalonghisspine.
AssumingI’mstillaroundafter,Iwill.
Thebathwasn’thelping.
Again.
Atleastthistime,asVivisatinthetub,uptoherchininhotwater,surroundedbycandles,therewasnovodkainsight.
Andshewasn’tconjuringupRhys’sfaceorthescentofhiscologne.Shewasn’tevensniffling.

Really,abigimprovementoverherlastHeartbreakBath.
Sowhydidshefeelsomuchworse?
Sheknewtheanswertothat—becausethistime,theheartbreakfeltsomuchbigger,andthetaskthatloomedaheadofherwas
terrifying.AuntElainewasthebest,strongestwitchViviknew,andevenshehadneverattemptedsomethinglikethis.And
nowVivi,whosemost-usedspellwasreheatingherteawithoutamicrowave,wasgoingtosummonupalong-deadspiritanddemand
itreverseacurse.

Somehow.
Thewatersloshedasshestoodupandreachedforatowel,dimlywonderingwhatkindofthingsheshouldweartoaritual
summoningonagraveyardonHalloweennight.Probablysomethingsuitablyimpressive,allblack,maybe,somesilverjewelry.

ButasVivilookedthroughhercloset,hereyefellonthedressshe’dbeenwearingthenightRhyshadfirstcomebackinto
town,theblackonewiththelittleorangepolkadotsandtheorangepatentleatherbelt.

Shefuckinglovedthatdress.Butitdidn’texactlyscreamPowerfulSorceress.
Shereachedpastit,goingfortheblackdressshe’dworntotheFallFair,butthenshepaused.
Thiswasherspell.Nomatterthatherancestorhadgivenitthenecessaryboost,shewastheonewho’dcasttheoriginal
curse,andshewouldbetheonetryingtoremoveittonight.Shewasapowerfulsorceress,polkadotsorno,andifwearingherfavoritedresswouldmakeherfeelbetter,whynot?

Andshedidfeelalittlebitbetterasshemadethewalkfromherapartmenttothecemetery.Thesunhadjustset,andthe
townwasinfullswing,Halloween-wise.Allthestreetlampswereilluminated,creepymusicblaringfromthespeakersplaced
allalongthemaindrag,andVivismiledasshepassedCoffeeCauldron.They’dplacedarealcauldronoutsidefullofdry
ice,andacoupleofkidsdressedaswitcheswerelaughingandshriekingastheyranthroughthefog.

GravesGlenwasagoodplace.Ahappyplace.
Andshewasgoingtosaveit.
ThesoundsoftheHalloweenrevelrygotmoredistantthecloserVivigottothecemetery,andbythetimesheopenedthecreaking
irongate,allshecouldhearwasthewindintheleavesoverheadandtheoccasionalcryofabird.

Aelwyd’sgravewasattheverybackcorner,andasViviwalkedtowardit,shecouldalreadyseeGwynandElainestandingthere,
waitingforher.

Theybothheldcandles,andthewarmthinboththeirfaceshadVivi’sthroatsuddenlyfeelingtight.
“We’realmostready,”Elainesaid,handingViviablackcandle.“AssoonasRhysgetshere.”
“AndhereRhysis,”Viviheardhimsaybehindher.Sheturnedtoseehimsaunteringdownthepathlikehewasstrollingtoward
adateinthepark,notpotentiallyhisowndeath,andherheartthumpedpainfullyinherchest.

Hewasdressedallinblack,thependantwinkingagainsthisthroat,andashetookthecandlefromElaine,hethrewViviawink.“Readytogetmeuncursed,cariad?”

Vivitookadeepbreath,andtherewasasharpsoundandthesuddenscentofsulfurintheairasGwynlitamatch,touching
ittothewickofVivi’scandle.

“AsI’lleverbe.”Chapter32
Rhyswasn’tsurehe’deverbeensonervousinhislifeashewatchedViviennesituateherselfatthefootofAelwyd’sgrave,
herblondhairpulledbackfromherface,standingthereinherpolkadots,clutchinghercandle.

Shewassobeautiful,sobrave,andeventhoughheknewheshouldprobablybealittleworriedforhimself,itwastheidea
ofanythinghappeningtoherthathadhisstomachinknots,hishandsclenchedintofistsathissides.

Ishouldhavetoldherbefore,hethought,butitwastoolatenow.Shewasalreadymurmuringunderherbreath,kneelingdownatthefootofAelwyd’sgrave.
Rhyswasn’tsureexactlywhatwentintothisritual,butheknewitwasmorethansummoningaghost.Ghostswereentirely
separatebeings,madeofenergythatcouldn’tgetfree.

Aspirit,stilltrappedinitsgrave,wasamuchharderbeasttosummon.
PiperMcBridehadlearnedthatthehardway,andnow,watchingVivienne,Rhyshadtofighttheurgetorushforwardandpullheroutofhere.Tohellwiththetown,tohellwithhim,justdon’tletVivienneriskherownlifetosaveeither,hethought.

Butshewantedtodothis.Believedshecoulddothis.
Andhehadtobelieveinher.
GwynandElainekneltdownaswell,andwhenElainepulledasmallsilverknifefromherbelt,Rhysgrittedhisteeth.It
wasabloodcurse,andViviwasAelwyd’sbloodrelative,soitshouldn’tsurprisehimthatbloodwasinvolved,buthestill
wincedasthatbladeflashedoverthemeatypartofVivienne’spalm,aquick,tinycut,butacutnonetheless.

Viviennedidn’tflinch,though,pressingherpalmagainsttheearth,loweringherhead.
GwynandElainewerewhisperingalongwithVivienne,theflamesoftheircandlesflickeringinthenightwind,andRhysfelt
coldraceuphisspineasthegroundtrembledslightlyunderfoot.

Hecouldn’tpinpointexactlywhenhefeltithappen.TherewasnothingdramaticliketherehadbeenwithPiper,nosudden
formleapingupfromthegrave.

ButwhenVivienneturnedherheadandlookedathim,heknewitwasnotherbehindthoseeyes.
“Penhallow,”shesaid,anditwashervoice,butanotheroneunderneathit,Welshaccentlilting,anditwasinWelshthat
Rhysanswered.

“That’sme.”
Vivienne’slipstiltedupwardatthecorners.“Youlooklikehim.LikeGryffud.”
Touchingthebridgeofhisnose,Rhysfrowned.“Dammitall.”
“Areyouasfecklessashewas?Ascruel?”shewenton,risingtoherfeet.Itwasthestrangestthing,seeingVivienne’s
body,abodyheknewaswellashisownnow,butwithoutherfamiliargestures,herposturecompletelydifferent.Andshe
waswatchinghimsocoldly.He’dneverseenthatlookonVivienne’sfacebefore,notevenwhenshehatedhim.

“Feckless,possibly,”heanswerednow.“Cruel?Icertainlyhopenot.”
Movingtowardhim,Viviennespreadherarmswideasbehindher,GwynandElainewatched,ashen.
“Gryffudwantedhismagictobuildthistown,”shesaid.“Wantedittobehislegacy.Hisownprivatekingdom.”
“Thatdoessoundlikethemeninmyfamily.”
“Buttherewasn’tenough.Hewasnotenough,”Viviennewenton,soclosenowthathecaughtawhiffofozoneandearth,nothinglikeVivienne’sownsugary
sweetscent.“Andsoheaskedformyhelp.”

TheeyesfixedsomewhereoverRhys’sshoulder,andhesomehowknewshewasseeingthecaves,theleylines.“Imeanttoblend
mymagicwithhis,buthetookallofit.”

Hergazefastenedonhim.“Allofme.Hedrainedmedrytobuildhistown,andthenerasedmynamefromit.Builtshrines
inhisownimage.Nothanksformysacrifice,notevenacknowledgment.ItwasasifIneverwas.”

Rhyscouldhearthehurtunderneathallofthat,andeventhoughheknewitwasn’tViviennespeakingtohim,thewordsstilllodgedsomewhereinhischestlikeastone.“Ifit’sanyconsolation,”hesaid,“GryffuddiddieofsmallpoxwhichIhearisprettyawful,so—”
“Therecanbenoconsolation!”Hervoicerose,thewindwhippinghigher,Vivienne’shairblowingbackfromherfaceasoverhead,
thetreesswayedandgroaned.

“Mydescendantcalledonmetocurseyou,andsoIdid.Andyouinturnhavecursedthistown.Myrevengewouldbecomplete,
watchingyoubothturntoash.”

Shetiltedherhead,watchinghim,andRhysbracedhimselffor…hewasn’tsurewhat,exactly.Asmiting?Thatseemed
likely.

Butthen,shesaid,“Exceptthatthiswoman,thissisterofmyblood,asksmetospareboth.Toliftthiscursefromyouand
thetown.”

Rhystookaslow,deepbreath.“Shedoes.”
“AndwhyshouldI?”
Rhysthoughtforsomereason,somecompletelyunimpeachableargumenttosavebothhislifeandGravesGlen,butallhecould
saywas,“Iloveher.”

Thoseeyesdidn’tblink.“Youloveher,”Vivienne/Aelwydrepeated,andRhysnodded.
“Iloveher,andIhurther,andIdeservedtobecursed.ButGravesGlenisherhome.Herfamily’shome.Ican’tletitbe
destroyedbecauseofme.”

Themoonlightspilleddownintothegraveyard,andforthefirsttime,RhysnoticedasortofshimmeringveilaroundVivienne,couldseeherheartpoundinginherthroat.Wasshestillinthere,hisVivienne?Couldshehearhim?
“AndifIweretosparethetownbuttakeyou,whatthen?”
Gazedark,thewitchpressedevencloser,andRhysmadehimselfstandhisground.“Thentakeme,”hesaid.“It’safairprice
forwhatwasdonetoyou.”

“Rhys,”heheardGwyncry,butElainestilledherwithahandonherwrist,andRhysgaveherawobblygrin.
“Ah,finally,I’mnot‘dickbag’anymore.”
AelwydwasstillstudyinghimthroughVivienne’seyes,andRhyswasvery,veryawarethathislifewashanginginthebalance.
Andthenshebackedawayfromhim,someofthewinddyingdown,thatsmelllikelightningstrikingtheearthfading.
“Youmustloveher,then,”shesaid.
“Ido,”heanswered.“Madly.”
Shegaveasigh,Vivienne’schestrisingandfalling,andthensheclosedhereyes.“Icanseeherheart,”Aelwydsaid.“Feel
itinsideherchest.Shelovesyou,too,andwouldnotseeyouharmed,andassheisofmyblood,I’vedecidedtogranther
request.”

Rhystriednottoactuallyfalltothegroundwithrelief,butitwasastruggle.“Thankyou,”hebreathed,andhesawGwyn
andElaineclutchhands.

“Thankyou,”Rhysrepeated.“AndIpromise,I’llsetthisrightaboutthatbastardGryffud.Nomorestatue,definitelyno
Founder’sDay.ImightevenseeifIcangetmybrotherWellstochangehismiddlename.”

Aelwydfrowned,andforasecond,Rhyswonderedifmentioningthefamilyconnectionhadbeenabadidea,butitwasn’tthat.Shewasn’tevenlookingathim,butbackuptowardthegrave,herhandsopeningandclosingathersides.
“It’s…thecurse.Icannotliftit.”
“Begpardon?”
Shewenttoherknees,headtiltingbacktolookupatthesky.“I’mnotstrongenough.”Andhervoicewassoundingweaker,
fainter,Vivienne’svoicestronger.

Hereyesfoundhisagain,andthistime,itfeltmorelikeViviennewaslookingbackathim.“I’msorry,RhysPenhallow,”
Aelwydsaid.“It’stoolate.”

AndthentherewasasoundlikethecrackofthunderandVivienneslumpedtotheground.Chapter33
Viviwasgettingalittletiredofdoingmagicandsomehowendingupontheground.
SheopenedhereyestoseeGwyn,RhysandElaineallstandingoverher,andfromtheexpressionsontheirfaces,shewasguessing
theritualhadn’tworked.Orhadsheevenmanagedtodoit?ThelastthingsherememberedwasherhandonAelwyd’sgrave,
askingherancestortoliftthecurse,andthenitwasallabigblankuntilnow.

“Isitover?”sheaskedRhys,andhetriedtosmileatherashehelpedhertoherfeet.
“Youweremagnificent.Honestly.”
“That’snotananswer,”sherepliedasshedustedoffherskirt,lookingoveratGwynandElaine,bothofwhomwereasgrave
asshe’deverseenthem.

“Youdidit,Vivs,”Gwynsaid,comingforwardtotakeVivi’shand.“YoupulledAelwyd’sspiritrightintoyou,itwasthe
coolestmagicI’veeverseen.Youwereallgoddess-y,andyourhairwasblowinginthewindlikeBeyoncé…”

Vivistaredather.“Anditdidn’twork,”shesaid.“Icanseeitinyourface.”
Gwyn’sbravadocollapsed,andshepressedahandtoVivi’scheek.“Itwasn’tyourfault.”
Panicked,VivilookedtoRhys,standingtheresohandsome,socasual,handsinhispockets,buttherewerelinesaroundhis
mouth,hisshoulderstense.“ApparentlyAelwyddidn’thavethejuice,Samhainorno.”Heshrugged.“Winsome,losesome.”

“No,”Vivisaid,shakingherhead.Shestillfeltwobblyfromthespellshe’djustdone,couldstilltasteastrangemetallic
flavorinhermouth,andshewasshivering,butshewasalsoreally,reallyfuckingsureshewasn’tabouttoletanything
happentoRhys.

OrGravesGlen.
“No,thisisn’tover,”shesaid,andElainesteppedforward,takingVivi’shand.
“Mylove,we’vedoneourbest.Doyouknowhowmanywitchescouldsurvivewhatyoujustdid?EvenonSamhain,callingupa
spiritiswork.Themagicinvolvedcankill,andlookatyou.I’msoproudofyou.”

“Thankyou,AuntElaine,”Vivisaid,andshemeantit.“ButI’mserious.Wecan’tjustquit.”
“Vivienne,”Rhyssaidsoftly.“There’snothingelsetodo.”
Closinghereyes,Vivishookherhead.“No,therehastobe.Ifwejustthink…”
Thinkingmighthavebeeneasierhadshenotjusthadathree-hundred-year-oldspiritinsideher,andwerehermindnotchanting,
Rhyswilldie,Rhyswilldie,Rhyswilldie,overandoveragain,butshetriedtostillherthoughtsalittle,triedtotakeadeepbreathandwillherselftocalmdown,tofindthesolution.
Rhyswascursed,sothetownwascursed.Rhysandthetown,bounduptogether,becauseoftheleylines.Themagicallines
thatRhys’sancestorhadlaid.

Butno.
Hereyesflewopen.
Ithadn’tbeenRhys’sancestor.Notjusthisancestor.Aelwydhadbeenthere,too.Aelwyd’smagicwasinthoseleylines,andAelwyd’smagicwasinVivi’sblood.
InGwyn’s,inElaine’s.

Itmightnotwork.Itprobablywouldn’twork.
Butshehadtotry.
“Theleylines,”shesaidtoRhysnow,alreadyheadingforthecemeterygate.“Wehavetogettotheleylines.”
AndRhys,goddesslovehim,didn’tevenquestionit.“Ihavemycar,andwehave,”hecheckedhiswatch,“aboutanhouruntil
midnight.”

“Youtwo,too,”shesaidtoGwynandElaine.“Ineedbothofyou.”
“We’llberightbehindyou,”Elainesaid,andagain,Vivifeltarushofgratitudeforthesepeople,thesepeoplewholoved
herandtrustedher.

Thedrivetothecavewasablur,neitherRhysnorVivisayingmuch,andwhentheyarrived,GwynandElainehadactuallybeaten
themthere.

“Rhys,”Vivisaidastheysteppedintothefirstcave,thelargerchamberleadingtotherestofthesystem,“Ineedyoutowaithere,okay?Thishastobejustthethreeofus.”
Hedidn’tquestionit,justnodded.“Ofcourse.”
AsVivimadeherwaytotheopeningleadingtotheleylines,though,hecouldn’thelpbutcallout,“Goodluckmakingme
notdead!”

Thistime,whenViviwalkedintothechamberwheretheleylineswere,shedidn’tfeelthatrushofheatshe’dfeltwithRhys.
Ifanything,shejustfeltalittlenauseous,disoriented,likeshe’dspuninacircletoomanytimes.Themagicwasstill
inhere,stilljustaspowerful,butnowitwasalsopowerfully,horriblywrong.
“Holyshit,”sheheardGwynwhisper,andthethreeofthemlookedatthemagic,pulsingonthefloorofthecave.Whathad
oncebeencleanpurplelightwasmurkywithcorruption,thickandsluggish,sparksofreddishlightoccasionallyflashing
offit.

“It’sgottenworse,”Vivisaid.“Itlookedbadthatfirstnight,butthis…”
Forthefirsttimesinceshe’dcomeupwiththisplan,shestartedtoworrythatmaybeitwasastupidideaafterall.Maybe
shewasn’tgoingtobeabletopullthisoff.

Butshehadtotry.ForGravesGlen.ForRhys.EvenforAelwyd,whodeservedsomuchbetterthanwhathadhappenedtoher.
“Holdhands,”Vivisaid,andshe,ElaineandGwynformedacircle,claspingtheirpalmstogether.
“Wemadethismagic,”Vivisaid,closinghereyes.“Ourfamilydid.Maybenobodybuiltastatuetoher,ornamedacollegeafterher,butshewasreal,andshewashereandshehelpedmakethistownwhatitis.Shegaveherlifeforit.Andwe’reherdescendants.”
ShefeltbothGwynandElainesqueezeherhands,anditgaveherthecouragetotakeadeepbreathandsay,“SofuckGryffud
Penhallow.TheJonesWitchesaretakingthisback.”

VivicouldfeelthepowersurgebeneathherfeetandbothGwyn’sandElaine’shandsweresuddenlysohottheyalmostburned,
butVivikeptholdingtight,keptsendingeverybitofmagicshecouldmusterintothecirclemadeofthethreeofthem,and
thendownintotheleylinesthemselves.

Itwasliketryingtopushaboulderuphill,andtherewassomethingpushingback.WhetheritwastheremainsofthePenhallow
magicorthecurseitself,Vivididn’tknow,butshepushedjustashardrightback,feelingsweatbreakoutonherbrowas
sheconcentrated.

AndthensheheardGwyncry,“It’sworking!”
Openinghereyes,Vivilookeddownattheleylines,watchingaspurplelightsparked,strengthened,theblacksludgereceding,
andsheheldontightertoherauntandhercousin,thinkingofAelwyd,thinkingofPiperMcBride,eventhinkingofthecollege
witches,allofwhomhadpowerandjustasmuchofaclaimtothemagicofGravesGlenasanyone.

Therewasasuddenflashoflight,sobrightthatVivigasped,droppingGwyn’sandElaine’shandstocoverhereyes,andthen,
justasquicklyasithadappeared,itwasgone,leavinghervisionalittledistortedanddazzled
Butinfrontofheronthecavefloor,thelinesranstraightandclearandpurple,hummingnow.
“Rhiannon’stits,”Gwynbreathed,andthenturnedtoViviwithablindingsmile.“Youdidit!”
“Wedidit,”Vivicorrected,andthenthrewherarmsaroundbothGwynandElaine,laughingevenastearssprangtohereyes.
“Iloveyougirls,”Elainesaid,dabbingatherowneyes.“Andnowpromisemeyouwillnever,evermixvodkawithwitchcraft
again.”

“Solemnlyswear,”Gwynsaidimmediately,andVivinodded.
“Lessonmorethanlearned,trustme.”
“So…itseemslikeIwon’tdie?”
TheyturnedtoseeRhyspokinghisheadinthecave,andGwynpointedathim.
“HairstilldoesTheThing.”
“Itdoes,”Viviagreed,earningherawinkfromRhysbeforehejerkedhisthumbattheentranceofthecave.
“Inthatcase,canwegetoutofhere?Uncursedornot,thisisnotwhereI’dliketospendwhat’sleftofHalloween.”Chapter34
Viviennewasglowingastheydrovebackintotown,andRhyshadtroublekeepinghiseyesontheroadandnotonher.
“Itwasjustlike…liketherewasariverinsideme,onlytheriverwasmagic,andIcouldfeelit,actuallyfeelitasitleftmyhands,likewhoosh,”sheenthused,gesturingwithbothhands,hercheekspink,hereyesbright,andRhyslaughed.

“Soyou’vesaid,cariad,soyou’vesaid.”

Droppingherhands,Viviennegrinnedathim.“Sorry.I’mgettingalittleoverexcited,aren’tI?”
“Imean,yousavedanentiretownandmylifewithyourmagic,”heremindedher.“You’reallowed.”
Tippingherheadbackagainsttheseat,Viviennelaughedagain.“Idid.Ididthat.Iamacertifiedbadasswitch.”
“Thebaddestofasses,”Rhysagreed,drumminghisfingersonthesteeringwheel,“andalsopossiblyalittleMagicDrunk.”
“Thatisadistinctpossibility,yes,”sheagreed,andthensmiledathimagain,asmileRhysfeltwarmeveryinchofhim.
Hewasmorethanalittleeuphorichimself.Cheatingdeathhadthateffectonaman,andeventhoughhewasn’tsurehowhisfatherwasgoingtotakethenewsthatGravesGlenwasnolongerPenhallowterritory,hedidn’treallycarerightnow.ThatwasaproblemforFutureRhys,andsurelythatcheekybuggerwouldbeabletoworkitout.
Vivisuddenlyreachedover,grabbinghisarm.
“Pullover.”
Rhyseyedhersuspiciously.“You’renotgoingtovomit,areyou?”
“Ew,no,”shesaid,pullingaface,thenpointingoutthewindshield.“Rightthere.”
Rhysfollowedherinstructions,bringingthecartoastoponadirtpull-inattheedgeofahillside,lookingdowninto
avalley.Themoonwasbrightenoughthathecouldjustmakeoutthefieldbelowthem,thesurroundinghillsdarkshapesagainst
thenavy-bluesky.

“Thisiswherewemet,”shesaidsoftly.“Thesummersolstice.Rightdownthereinthatfield.”
Rhyshadknownthatfromthemomenthe’dparkedthecar.Herememberedthosehills,rememberedsittingwithherandlooking
upatthem,rememberedthatflowercrownthatsatcrookedonherhair,andhersweetsmile.

“CanItellyouasecret?”sheasked,hervoicequiet,hermoodalittlemoresubdued.
“It’snotthatyoudidn’tactuallyreversethecurse,andyou’vebroughtmeheretokickmeoffthishillside,isit?”
Shelaughed,lowerthistime,herhairbrushinghershouldersassheshookherhead.“Ilovedthatsummer,”shesaid.“Ihelditupasthisperfect,wonderfulmoment,andtoldmyselfit’sonlybecauseitwasafirst,youknow?FirstmagicalriteIeverwentto,firstsummerofcollege,firstboyIeverfellinlovewith.”
Whensheturnedtohim,hereyeswerefilledwithsomethingRhyscouldn’tname,butwhateveritwas,itwarmedhischest,
hisheart.

God,helovedher.
“Butthistimewasevenbetter,”shesaid,leaninginclose.Andthenshesmiled.
“MayIkissyou?”
Rhys’sheartjerkedalmostpainfullyagainsthisribs.“Now?”
“I’mopentowhateveryourscheduleallows.”
“Well,luckyforyou,Iamcurrentlyfreeasfuck,”hereplied,andshelaughedashepulledherin,clamberingovertheseat
sothatshecouldstraddlehislap.

IthadbeenawhilesinceRhyshadshaggedsomeoneinacar,butsomehow,theymanaged,herdresspusheduptoherwaist,
hisflyundone,andtheyonlyhitthecarhorntwice.

Andwhenhewasinsideher,herarmsaroundhim,herhairinhisface,thisgorgeous,magicalwomanhe’dfalleninlovewith
twicenow,heknewhehadtotellherhowhefelt.

After,he’dpromisedhimself,andthiswasafter.

Butfirst,hewantedtofeelhercomeapartaroundhim,wantedtohearhermakethosesoftlittlecriesandfeelherteeth
niphisearlobe.

Hedidallofthatandmore,andwhenshelaypantingagainsthischest,hepushedherhairback,kissingthesweatyskinofherneck.
“Vivienne,”hestarted,andshesighed,sinkingevendeeperagainsthim.
“I’mgoingtomissyou,Rhys,”shesaid,hervoicesoftanddreamy.
That’swhenheunderstoodwhatthiswas.Bringinghimheretothisplacewheretheymet,makinglovetohim.
Shewassayinggood-bye.
ItwaspastmidnightbythetimetheymadeitbackupthemountaintoElaine’s,andassheandRhyswalkeduptheporchsteps,
fingerslooselyclasped,Vivinoddedupatthesky.“Samhainisover.OfficiallyAllSoulsDaynow.”

“AndIamofficiallyuncursed,andyouareofficiallythemostimpressivewitchIknow.”
Giggling,Vivigavealittlecurtsy,stillslightlyhighfrommagicandsexandsomemysticalcombinationofthetwo.
Infact,shethought,astheystoppedinfrontofElaine’sdoor,shecouldmaybegoforalittlemoreofboth.
“Comeinside?”sheasked.“Idon’thavemuchpracticesneakingboysintomyroomhere,buthonestly,Idon’tthinkElaine
wouldmind.”

Rhyssmiledatthat,butitwasabriefone,andwhenhereacheduptosmoothherhairbackfromherface,Vivifeltlike
sheknewwhathewasabouttosay.

“MuchasIwouldlovethat,cariad,I’mafraidIneedtogetbacktomorrow.”

Vivirockedbackslightly,herhandsfallingfromhiswaist.“Backasin…toWales?”
“Theveryplace,”hesaid.“Myfatherneedstobetoldaboutallthis,andthat’sreallyaconversationbesthadinperson.
Andworkwillgetbusierwiththeholidays…”

Vivifeltlikesomeonehaddunkedherincoldwater,allthatsilly,magicalhappinessdrainingoffherasshestoodthere
ontheporch,lookingupintoRhys’sblueeyes.

“Right,ofcourse,”shesaid,andmadeherselfsmile.“Imean,webothknewthiswastemporary.Yourlifethere,minehere.”
“Exactly,”hesaid,andhissmileseemedalittleforced,too.“Ofcourse,”headded,pullingherin,“Icouldbegyouto
comewithme.Downonmyknees,thewholebit,verydramatic,quiteascene.”

Shelaughedalittleatthatevenassheclosedhereyesagainstthesuddenstingingoftears.“Iwouldreallyliketosee
that.”Andshewould,wasthething.WantedRhystoseriouslyaskhertocome,wantedtoknowwhatthismeanttohim.

Buthe’dshowedher,hadn’the?Hecaredabouther,healwayswould.Buthewasn’texactlythekindofguywhocouldstay
inoneplace.He’dbuiltawholelifearoundthat.

AndnowthathermagicwasinextricablyboundupinGravesGlen,shedidn’twanttoleave.Thiswasherhome.
“Youdoenjoymedownonmyknees.”
Viviclosedthespacebetweenthem,wrappingherarmsaroundhim,breathinginthesmellofautumnthatclungtohisclothes,thefaintscentofsmokestillhangingaroundthemboth.“Trulywhereyoudoyourbestwork.”
Hisgriponhertightenedevenashechuckled,andViviwishedtheycouldputoffthisbitjustforalittlebitlonger.Just
letherhavehimalittlelonger,onemorenight,maybetwo.

Butthatwouldn’tmakethisanyeasier.Ifanything,itwouldjustmakeitharder.BecauseRhyscouldn’tstay.
Andshecouldn’tgo.
“Lookonthebrightside,”shesaid,asshepulledback.“AtleastthistimeIwon’tbecursingyou.Mightevensetupalittle
mini–RhysPenhallowshrineonmydeskatwork.”

“Canopybedincluded,Ihope.”
Vivicouldfeelthesmilewobbleonherface.Shewasmakingtherightdecision.Theybothwere.Thisthingbetweenthemhad
alwaysbeenbuiltnottolast.Theyweretoodifferent,wanteddifferentlives,haddifferentdreams.

Thatdidn’tmakelettinghimgoanyeasier.
Butshedid.
“Good-bye,Rhys,”shesaid,brushingherlipsagainsthisonemoretime.
“Good-bye,Vivienne,”hemurmured,buthedidn’tkissheragain.Hejustturnedandwalkedbackdowntheporchstepsand,
forthesecondtime,outofherlife.
Chapter35
Wintersemesterwasalwaysalittlebleak.
IfGravesGlenwasatitsabsolutebestinOctober,Januarywastheflipsideofthatcoin,thetimeofyearwhenVivistarted
wonderingifsheshouldmovetoabeachorsomething.Thesnowwasneverthatbad,anditcouldevenbereallyprettywhen
youwerewatchingitfromaporchupinthemountains,thesnowflakesfloatingthroughthebaretrees.

Itwaslessprettywhenyouweresludgingthroughacoupleofinchesofthestuffmixedwithmudasyoumadeyourwaytowork.
Grimacing,shescrapedoffherbootsbeforewalkingintothehistorydepartment.
“Januarysuuuuucks,”sheheardEzichicallfromherofficeasshepassed,andVividuckedherheadin.
“Agreed.ButIhearyoufinallygotthetenuretrackgig,congratulations!”
UnlikeVivi,EzihadherPh.D.,andhadbeenstuckinthelecturertrenchesforages,soViviwasgenuinelythrilledforher,
andEziwas,too,ifhersmilewasanythingtogoby.

“Andcongratulationstoyou,too,”Ezisaid,comingupfrombehindherdesk.“Hearyou’retakingonsomeextraclassesinthefolkloredepartment?”
Vivinodded,alreadyfeelingalittleflutterinherstomachattheidea.AfterHalloween,she’dgonetohaveatalkwith
Dr.Arbuthnotaboutwhathadhappened,thechangetoGravesGlen’smagic.

She’dassumedthewomanwouldbeangry,oratleastsnottyaboutallofit.
Tohersurprise,she’dbeenofferedajob.
Asofthissemester,shewasteachingtwoclassesoverontheWitcherysideofthings,aHistoryofMagiccoursefocusing
onGravesGlen’spast,andaclassonRitualMagic.

Andshe’devenboughtanewscarf.
Butjustone.
Sayinggood-byetoEzi,Viviheadedtoheroffice,flickingontheteakettleassoonasshegotin,andsettingherbagdown
onherdesk.Reachinginside,shepulledoutaheavybook,itscoverbloodredleather,thetitlestampedinaginggoldfoil
onthecover.ItwasahistoryofWalesaswrittenbyaWelshwitchoverahundredyearsago.She’dgottenitinthemail
atYule,noreturnaddress,justanotescrawledinRhys’shandwriting:

Foryouroffice.Xx
Nocariad,noImissyou,buthewasthinkingofher,andthatwasenough.

Oratleastshetoldherselfitwas.
Shakingherhead,Vivimadeherselfacupoftea,andfireduphercomputer.
Bythetimeshewasdonetypingupnotesforherafternoonhistorylecture,sherealizedshewasdueoverattheWitchery
sideofthingstomeetwithDr.Arbuthnot,andsighing,sheshovedherarmsbackintohercoatandtwistedherscarfaround
herneck.

Itwasquieteronthatsideofcampus,andthesnowwasalittlelesstrampledasshewalkedintothemainbuilding,hernose
wrinklingslightlyatthescentofpatchouli—seriously,wastheresomeoneshecouldtalktoaboutthat?—butshemadeherway
downthehall,glancingatdoorsasshewent.

Otherthantheclassierfurnishings,itwasn’tallthatdifferentfromthehistorybuilding.Samerowsofdoors,samefrosted
windowswithnamesstenciledinblack.

A.Parsons.
J.Brown.
C.Acevedo.
R.Penhallow.
Viviwasalreadypastthedoorbeforeitregistered,andsheslowlyturnedandlookedbackatit,herhearthammering.
Itcouldn’tbe.
Ithadtobesomeoneelse,someotherPenhallow,firstnamestartingwithR.Rhysprobablyhadacousin,RichardPenhallow,orRebeccaPenhallow.

Butshefoundherselfreachingforthedoorknobanyway.
Viviknewitwashorriblyrudetojustwalkintosomeone’sofficewithoutknocking,butshehadtosee,hadtoshutdownthis
stupidlittleflutterofhopeinherchestbeforeittookflight.

Thedooropened,revealinganofficethatdidn’tseemallthatdifferentfromVivi’sown.Small,onewindow,deskandalamp,
afilingcabinet,abookshelf.Theonlydifferencewasthattheshelfwasempty,andtherewasnothingonthewalls,andthere,
sittingbehindthedesk,grinningupather,wasRhys.

Shealmostwonderedifshe’dwalkedthroughsomekindofspellwhenshecameinhere,orifthiswasatrickthewitcheswere
playingonher,somekindoffacultyhazingthing.

Butthenhestoodupandwalkedovertoher,aswarmandrealasanythingashegentlyshutthedoorbehindherandsaid,
“Hello,cariad.”

Therewereamillionthingsshewantedtosaytohim,toaskhim.
Butallthatcameoutwas,“Youhave…anoffice.”
“Ido.”
“Andadesk.”
“Evenso.”
“Andyou’re…here.”
“Noticedthat,didyou?”
“Why?”
Blowingoutabreath,Rhysputhishandsinhispocketsandshrugged.“Well,yousee,IwentbacktoWales,businessasusual,onlythethingwas,Iwascompletelyfuckingmiserable.Justthesaddestbastardyou’veeverseeninyourlife.Sosad,infact,thatWells—Wells!—toldmeIwasasadbastard,andasheispresidentoftheSadBastardsClub,Ifoundthisverydistressing.”

Vivi’sfacewasaching,andsherealizeditwasbecauseshewassmiling.
Rhyswassmiling,too,ashecontinued.“AndsoIthoughtwhatIcoulddotomakemyselflessofasadbastard,andIrealized
theonlythingforitwastobewithyou.Orattheveryleast,nearyou.Anditturnsoutthatwhenacollegeisnamedafter
yourfamilyhome,they’refairlywillingtoletyouteachtheoddclass,sohereIam.”

“Whataboutyourbusiness?”Viviasked,stillfeelingalittledazed,andRhysnodded.
“Stillgotit.Canrunitfromhere,noproblem,butBowensaidthismomentneededabiggesture…Imean,Idecidedthis
momentneededabiggestureandreceivedzerohelpfrommybrotheratall.

“Besides,”hewenton,“IwantedtoprovetoyouthatIwasseriousaboutthis,aboutstayinghere.Puttingdownroots.This
isn’talark,Vivienne.”

Hesteppedcloser,andVivibreathedhimin,herhandsalreadygoingtohischest,wherehisheartbeatasteadytattoounder
herpalms.“IrealizethatuprootingmylifeandmovingtoGeorgiaforawomanmightfallintotherecklessandill-thought-out
category,butthethingis,I’mverymuchinlovewiththatwoman.”

Heleanedinalittlecloser,loweringhisvoice.“Thatwomanisyou,bytheway.Wantedtomakesurethatwasclear.”
Vivilaughedevenasshefeltsuddentearsstinghereyes.“Okay,good,becauseIreallycan’tcompetewithAuntElaineforyourheart.Mybakingisatrocious.”
“Youronlyfault.”
Rhystookadeepbreath,reachingouttocupherface,hisfingersrestingonthebackofherheadashelookedintohereyes.
“Iloveyou.Sovery,verymuch.AndIknowthatI’mflippantsometimes,ormakeajokeratherthansaythetruth,butIwant
youtoknowthatyou’reeverythingtome,Vivienne.Everything.”

Leaningin,herestedhisforeheadagainsthers,eyesclosingasVivireachedupandputherhandsonhiswrists.“You’ve
hadmyheartfromthemomentIsawyouonthatbloodyhillside,andIhatethatIwastednineyearswithoutyou,butI’mnot
wastingasinglesecondmore.Ifyouneedtobehere,thenIneedtobehere.Simpleasthat.”

Steppingback,Vivilookedintothoseblueeyes.RhysmighthavebeenTheFool,butmaybeshewas,too,becausesherealized
thattheimage,apersonwalkingmerrilyoffacliff,wasn’tnecessarilyaboutbeingreckless.

Itwasabouttakingaleapandtrustingsomething—someone—wouldcatchyou.
“IwanttogotoWaleswithyou,”sheblurtedout,andRhys’sbrowfurrowedinconfusion.
“DidyoumissthepartabouthowI’vemovedhere?”
Laughing,crying,Vivishookherhead.“No,Imean…itdoesn’thavetobeeither-or.YouhereormeinWales.Wecandoboth.Wecanhaveboth.Andit’sgoingtobemessyandhardsometimes,butitwillbeworthit.BecauseIloveyou,too.You’vehadmyheartjustaslong,andItrustyouwithit.”
Andassoonasshesaidit,sheknewitwastrue.
ShetrustedRhyswithherheart.Reckless,capriciousRhys,whoglidedthroughlife,butwholovedherandhadproveditover
andoveragain.

TheFoolandTheStar,justlikeGwyn’scardshadshown.Leapingoffcliffsandshiningsteadily,oppositeswhocouldn’tlive
withouteachother.

Whodidn’thaveto.
Andthat,VivihadtoadmitasRhysleanedintokissher,mightbethemostmagicalthingofall.Acknowledgments
Asisfittingforastoryaboutwitches,thisismythirteenthpublishednovel,andIhavebeenluckyenoughtohaveHolly
Rootasmyagentforeachandeveryoneofthosethirteenbooks.Themagicagoodagentcanwieldisatrulypowerfulforce,
andIamsoluckytohaveHollyspinningherspellsforme.

TessaWoodwardunderstoodthisbookfromtheveryfirst,andthankstoherparticularbrandofmagic,itissomuchstronger
thanI’deverdreameditcouldbe.

TheentireteamatWilliamMorrowis,I’mfairlycertain,comprisedofwizards,andIamsograteful!
Tomyowncoven,especiallymyOrlandoLadies(theAntiGo-Getters),thankyouforlisteningtomewhenthisbookwasstill
initssoftestandsquishieststage.Nextroundofbrieisonme!

Thisis,atitsheart,abookaboutfamilies,andIhavebeensoblessedwithmine,boththeoneIcamefromandtheoneI
made.Lovey’all.
AbouttheAuthor
ERINSTERLINGalsowritesasRachelHawkins,theNewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofmultiplebooksforyoungreaders.Herworkhasbeensoldinmorethanadozencountries.Shestudied
genderandsexualityinVictorianliteratureatAuburnUniversityandcurrentlylivesinAlabama.

Discovergreatauthors,exclusiveoffers,andmoreathc.comCopyright
Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously
andarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,organizations,orpersons,livingordead,
isentirelycoincidental.

theexhex.Copyright?2021byRachelHawkins.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypayment
oftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-book
on-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinor
introducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,
nowknownorhereafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.

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DigitalEditionSEPTEMBER2021ISBN:978-0-06-302748-0
PrintISBN:978-0-06-302747-3AboutthePublisher
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