The Kiss Curse An Ex Hex Novel

Dedication
ForMerlinandBosworth.I’mglady’alldon’ttalk.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
Chapter36
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
PraiseforTheExHex
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
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Guide
Cover
Contents
ProloguePrologue
ThirteenYearsAgo,PenhavenCollege…
Giventhatthespellhadbeen“Turnthisleafintosomethingelse,”andGwynnevereJoneshadindeedturnedthatleafintosomethingelse,itseemedextremelyunfairthateveryonewasnowscreamingather.

Okay,soitwaslessthattheywerescreamingather,moretheywerejustscreamingingeneral,andyes,allright,maybetheleafnowresembledsomekindofsmalldinosaurwithverypointyteethcurrentlyclampedaroundthetoeofherprofessor’s
pointyboot,buthadthespellbeenspecific?

Ithadnot!
Hadeveryoneelsemadecompletelyboringshitlikeapenoraslightlybiggerleaf?
Yes!
WasGwyn’stheonlyspellthathadthisdeeplycoollocomotioneffect,andthereforetheyshouldallbethankingherandtellingherwhatabadasswitchshewasinsteadofsayingthingslike“Makeitstop!”and“Whatthefuck?”
Honestly,Gwynthoughtso!
This,shethoughtassheonceagaintriedtogatherenoughpowertoturnherbiteycreaturebackintoanoakleaf,iswhyIdidn’tevenwanttocomehere.
PenhavenCollegeinGravesGlen,Georgia,taughtbothregularstudentsandwitches,thewitchcraftclassessecretiveandhidden
fromeveryoneelsewhojustthoughtthekidswhowenttothoseweirderbuildingsoncampuswerepursuingesotericdegrees
inFolkloreorsomething.AdvancedHedgeMaking,maybe.

GwynhadgrownupinGravesGlen,butithadneveroccurredtohershe’dactuallybesenttoPenhaven.Hermomwascooler
thanthat,she’dthought,waylesstraditionalthanmostwitches—ormomsforthatmatter—andGwynhadassumedshe’dendup
atsomenormieschool,drinkingbeerinredSolocupsandpracticingmagiconherown.

Butno.Onthisonething,hermomhaddecidedtogetsupertraditionalandinsistedshegotoPenhaven.

Gwyn’smom,Elaine,wasprettymuchtheleasttraditionalpersonGwynknew.She’draisedGwynallonherown,makingaliving
sellingbathsaltsandspecialteasatvariousfestivalsandRenFaires,readingtarotcardsinthecozykitchenoftheir
cabin.Gwynhadlovedthatlife,hadassumedshe’dgettofollowinhermom’sfootsteps,doingherownthing,andthen,as
highschoolhadwounddown,Penhavenhadreareditsuglyhead.

“It’llbegoodforyou,”ElainehadtoldGwyn,herblondhairglowinginthesunlightintheirkitchen,hereyeskind,lookinglikeasaint,or,evenworse,likeStevieNicks,becausehowwereyoueversupposedtosaynotoStevieNicks?
That’showGwynhadendedupatPenhaven,takingclasseslikeRitualCandlesandPhasesoftheMoon.
AndSimpleFormConversion,aclassshehadalreadybeensuspiciousofduetohowmath-yitsounded.
“Miss!Jones!”herprofessorshouted,andGwynshookherhead,stilltryingtopulltogetherasmuchmagicasshecould.It
washard,though,seeingashowshe’dreallyputherbackintoit,magicallyspeaking,toturntheleafintotheverything
nowchompingDr.Arbuthnot’sadmittedlyfierceboot.

Youdon’talwayshavetobeashow-off,youknow.
Gwyn’scousin,Vivi,wasn’tthereintheclassroomwithher—shestillhadtwomoreyearsofhighschooltogobeforeElaine,
nodoubt,sentherofftodothissamething.ButGwynknewthat’sexactlywhatshewould’vesaid,andatthethought,she
screwedupherface,tryingtoconcentrateharder.

Herhandswereplacedflatonthetableinfrontofher,thesurfacetremblingslightly,theendsofherlongpurplehair
poolingnexttoherpalms
Thedyehadbeenaflashofrebellionbeforeshe’dstartedclasses,hernormallyredhairturneddeepamethyst,butofcourse
hermomhadonlysmiledandsmoothedahandoverthebackofherhead,tellingheritsuitedher.

ThatwastheproblemwithhavingaCoolMom.
“Haveyougotit?”
Gwyn’sconcentrationbrokeforthebarestofsecondsasherlabpartner,aprettybrunettenamedMorgan,edgedcloser,darkeyeswide.
“Yeah,”Gwynsaid,makingherselfsmileeventhoughsheveryassuredlydidnothaveit.“Almostthere!”

Thethinghad,thanktheGoddess,letgoofDr.Arbuthnot’sboot.
Exceptthatnowitseemedtobelookingkindofhungrilyatherdanglingscarf,andGwyngrittedherteeth,hersparklyblue
nailsdiggingharderintothetable’ssurface.ShewasnotgoingdownasthefirststudentinPenhavenCollegehistorytoaccidentallygetateachereaten.

Allright,sowhenshe’ddonethespell,she’dplacedherhandsontheleafandjustthoughtveryhardthatitneededtochange.Shehadn’tgivenitanymoredirectinstructionsthanthat.Maybethatwastheissue?

Liftingherhead,Gwynfocusedonthesceneatthefrontoftheclassroom.
Therewerenowindowshere,everythinglitwithsconcesagainstthewall,theheavywoodentablesthestudentssatbehind
allonaslightlyraisedplatform,almostliketheywereinaVictorianoperatingtheaterorsomething.

Atthefrontoftheroom,Dr.Arbuthnotstoodbehindanold-fashionedwoodenlectern.Well,shenormallydid.Rightnow,she
wasinfrontofit,holdingontotheedgeasshesentblueburstsoflightfromherfingertipstowardthethingcurrently
crouchingandgrowlingatherfeet.

ButGwyn’slittleleafmonsterwasclever,dartingoutoftheway,andifGwynhadn’tbeenworriedthiswholethingwasgoingtogetherexpelledorburnedatthestake—iftheystilldidthat—shealmostwould’vefelt…proudofthelittleguy.
LikeGwyn,hewasscrappy.
Dr.Arbuthnotcould,Gwynknew,decimatethethingwithasimplespell,butshewantedGwyntobeabletocontrolitor,better
yet,turnitbackintoaleaf.Thatwasthepointoftheclass,afterall,andGwynwasdeterminedtogetthisright.

ShemightnothavewantedtocometoPenhavenCollege,butshe’dbedamnedifshebecametheClassScrew-Up.
Determined,shefocusedonthecreature,liftingherhands,andshecouldfeelitstarttoshift.
Starttochange.
Almostthere.
Herfingersflexedjustastheleafcreaturejerkeditsheadtowardher.
Atthesametime,theclassroomdoorflewopen,bangingagainstthewall.
Gwyndidn’tpaythatanyattention,hergazelockedonthefrontoftheroom,herpowerbuilding,andthen—
Therewasasuddenflashoflight,andasmellthatremindedGwynofcampfiresandautumnnightsfilledtheroom.
Atthelectern,Dr.Arbuthnotsuddenlystoodupstraight,andGwynwatchedaslittlebitsofsmokeandflamingdebris—fiery
bitsofleaf—drifteduptowardtheceiling.

Gwyn’shandsdropped,hermouthfallingopen.Shit.
Shit.
She’doverdoneitsomehow.She’dputtoomuchpowerbehindthespellandinsteadoftransformingthethingbackintoaleaf,
she’djust…obliteratedit.

AndthensheheardMorgansighjustasDr.Arbuthnotlookedtowardthedoor.
Gwynfollowedhergaze.
Aboystoodthere.
No,aman.OlderthanGwyn,butnotbymuch,hisdarkhairshaggy,hisblueeyesbrightevenfromadistance.Hewasdressed
allinblack,hishandsstillraisedtowardthefrontoftheroom,andGwynhadnodoubtthatwhoeverhewas,hisancestors
hadabsolutelyoncestareddownthebusinessendofaguillotine.

Youdidn’tgetcheekboneslikethatwithoutoppressingsomepeasants.
“Penhallow,”Dr.Arbuthnotsaid,adjustingherscarf,andGwyn’sgazesharpened.
She’dcalledit,allright.ThePenhallowfamilybasicallyranthistowneventhoughtheydidn’tevenlivehere.Butoneof
theirancestorsfoundedGravesGlen—andthecollegeitself—soeveryonceinawhile,aPenhallowdeignedtojointhelowly
citizensofGwyn’shometownforasummerorso.

“Iseveryoneallright?”heasked,hiseyessweepingtheclassroomashereacheduptopushhishairbackfromhisface.
Gwynopenedhermouthtotellhimthattheyweremorethanallright,thatshe’dbeensecondsawayfromhavingthewholethinginhand,anddoingaverybasicspellthatjustblewshitupwasn’tallthatimpressive,really,butDr.Arbuthnotbeathertothepunch.
“Finenow,yes.Thankyou,Penhallow.”
“Iwaspassingby,”heexplained,“andheardthecommotion.IthoughtIcouldhelp,so—”
“We’refreshoutofbothmedalsandcookies,”Gwyninterrupted,flexingherfingers.“Andyoudidn’tactuallyhelp.Youjust
blewthethingupIcould’veblownthethingup.”

ThePenhallowguylookedoverather,onebrowcrooked.“Thenwhydidn’tyou?”heasked,andbeforeshecouldreplytothat,
hewasgone,thedoorclosingbehindhim.

Atthefrontoftheroom,Dr.Arbuthnotbrushedlittlebitsofleafashoffthefrontofherlongskirtandreadjustedher
glasses.“We’llspeakafterclass,Ms.Jones,”shesaid,andGwynrolledhereyesevenasshenodded.

SheandDr.Arbuthnotspokeafterclassatleastonceaweek.Bytheendofthesemester,Gwynwasprobablygoingtohave
tostartpayingrentonherofficeorsomething.

Nexttoher,Morganwasstilllookingwistfullyatthedoor.“ThatwasLlewellynPenhallow,”shesaidonadreamysigh,and
Gwynsnorted,gatheringupherthings.

“Llewellyn,”sherepeated,becausewhenaguyhadanamelikethat,youdidn’tevenhavetomakefunofit.Justrepeatingitwasenough.

Morganelbowedher,tuckingherhairbehindherearwithherotherhand.“Youhavetoadmithewascute,”shepressed,and
Gwynslungherbagoverhershoulder,glancingbackatthedoor.

“Cute,maybe,”shesaidwithashrug.“Asshole,definitely.Probablyhastheword‘Esquire’afterhisname.”
“Well,youwon’tgetthechancetofindout,”Morgansaidasshestartedpickingupherbooks.“Someonetoldmehe’snoteven
finishingthesummersemester.HisdadisapparentlycallinghimbacktoWalesforsomefamilything.”

GiventhatthePenhallowswereaverypowerful,veryancientlineofwitches,Gwynfigured“familything”couldmeanalot
ofdifferentstuff,probablynoneofitgood.

Notthatshereallycared.
No,rightnowthemainthingGwyncaredaboutwasthatshehadtotalktoDr.Arbuthnot,somehowmakeitontimeforhernext
class,whichwasallthewayacrosscampus,andalsogohelphermomoutatSomethingWicked,thestoretheyranindowntown
GravesGlen.

LlewellynPenhallow,Esquire,gotexactlyonemorethoughtfromGwynasshemadeherwaytowardthefrontoftheclassroom
andDr.Arbuthnot’sdisapprovingface.

ThanktheGoddessI’llneverhavetoseethatassholeagain.Chapter1
“IfIyell‘boo-yah’whenwecatchtheghost,you’llgetit’smeanttobeironic,right?”
Gwynwhisperedthewordsasshecreptbehindhercousin,Vivi,throughthedarkwoods,asliverofmoonbrightinthenavy-blue
sky,thesmallballoflightVivihadconjuredupbobbingcheerfullyrightabovetheirheads.TheearlySeptemberairwas
surprisinglycoolandsmelledcrisp,ahintofsmoketicklingGwyn’snose.

Definitelyagoodnightforghosthunting.
Maybealessperfectnightforjoking,though,becauseVivilookedoverhershoulder,hazeleyesnarrowed.“Gwynnevere.”
“What?”Gwynprotested.“It’sthatorsomekindof‘ain’tscaredofnoghost’thingthatIfranklythinkisalittledated.”
“WhydoIgetthefeelingyou’renottakingthisseriously?”
Gwyn,whowascurrentlywearingablacksweaterdottedwithlittlewhiteghosts,gaveVivihermostseriousface.“Ihave
noideawhyyouwouldthinkthat.”

Asshe’dexpected,Vivi’ssternexpressiongavewaytoafondsmileandarollofhereyes.
“Fine.Iacceptyourironic‘boo-yah.’”
“Thankyou,”Gwynsaid,readjustingtheleatherbagslungacrossherchest.Sincethiswasherfirstghosthunt,she’draided
SomethingWickedforanythingthatseemedlikeitmightbeuseful,butthestoremainlycateredtotourists,notactualwitches.

ThatmeantthatGwyncurrentlyhadabagfullofcrystals,acoupleofjarredcandles,andavelvetpouchofthebathsalts
hermothermadeespeciallyforthestore.

Vivilookedbackatheragainasthecandlesclinkedagainstthecrystals.“Itoldyou,youdidn’tneedtobringanything,”
shesaid.“Thisismoreofafact-findingmission.”

“AndIgetthat,Vivi,butI’veseenexactlyoneghostinmylife,anditwassuperscary,soexcusemeforwantingtobe
prepared.”

“Withchamomileandlavenderbathsalts?”
“Theimportantpartisthesalt.”
WhenVivipausedagain,hereyebrowsraised,Gwynwavedahand.“Youknow.Likeintheshows.”
“Theshows?”
“Theoneswherehandsomeguyshuntghosts,andthey’realwayslike”—sheloweredhervoicetoagruffgrowl—“‘We’regonnaneed
tomakearingofsaltaroundtheperimeter’orsomething.So.”Gwynpattedherbag.“Salt.”

“We’rewitches,Gwyn,”Viviremindedher.“Maybeweshouldn’ttakeourcuesfromTV?”
“We’renotghost-huntingwitches,”Gwynargued,dodgingaroundalargebranchastheypusheddeeperintothewoods.“Andthatshowranfor,like,
twentyyears.Ibettheygotsomethingright.”

Viviconsideredthat,thenfinallygaveashrug.“Probablycan’thurt.”
Thewindrattledtheleavesoverhead,whippingGwyn’slongredhairbackfromherfaceasshetookbiggersteps,tryingto
keepupwithhercousin.“Youknow,ifIhadahothusband,Iwoulddefinitelyfindmorereasonstobehome,lessreasonstoscuttlethroughhauntedforests.”

Vivilaughedalittleatthat.“IinvitedRhystocomewithus,buthe’sswampedwithworkandtryingtowrapeverythingup
beforeourtrip.”

Gwynmadeanagreeingnoiseatthat,ignoringthelittlepanginherchestatthethoughtofVivibeinggone.Itwasstupid—she
wasonlygoingtobegoneforafewweeks,makingatriptoseesomemagicalritualViviwasinterestedinbackinRhys’s
homecountryofWales—butitwouldbethelongestGwynhadbeenapartfromhercousininages.AndsinceGwyn’smom,Elaine,
wasalsooffatawitchyretreatinArizona,itwouldmeanGwynwastotallyonherown.

Whichwasfine.Shewasanadult,afterall,shecouldhandlerunningtheshowwithout—
Overhead,anowlhooted,andGwyngavealittleshriek,movingclosertoVivi.
Clearingherthroat,shepushedbackhershouldersandmovedon.“Sofirstbigtriptothehomeland,howarewefeelingaboutit?”
Vivi’ssmilewasalmostbrighterthanherlightspell.“It’sgoingtobeamazing.RhysistakingmetoSnowdonia,upnearwherehisbrotherlives,and—”

“DickheadBrotherorWerewolfBrother?”
VivishotGwynanotherlook.“TheyactuallygobyWellsandBowen,andforthelasttime,Bowenisnotawerewolf,hejust…
doesn’tshaveveryoften.”

“Idon’tknow,Vivi,soundslikeanexcuseawerewolfwouldmake,”Gwynsaidassheskirtedaroundapileofleaves.
Vivilaughedatthat,shakingherhead.“Inanycase,yes,Bowen.Wellsstilllivesinthevillagewheretheygrewup,so
I’msurewe’llpassbyandvisithim,too.”

“Cool.Maybeyoucanaskhimwhatwasmoreimportantthancomingtohisbrother’swedding.”
Vivigroaned.“Okay,Gwyn,seriously.Itdidn’tbotherme!Itdidn’tevenbotherRhys.”
“Well,itbotheredme,”Gwynreplied,irritatedalloveragain.Vivihadgottenmarriedbackinthesummer,asmallwedding
inGravesGleninthesamemeadowwhereshe’dmetRhysyearsago.Ithadbeenbeautifulandsimple,andevenGwynhadgotten
alittleteary-eyed,notthatshewouldeveradmitthat,andwhileGwynreallyhadbeenalarmedbyBowen’sfacialhairand
thefactthathelookedlikehemightactuallydieifheeverhadtosmile,atleasthe’dshownup.

Rhys’sfatherandotherbrother,however,hadn’tcome.
Gwyncouldn’timaginenotbeingthereforVivionherweddingday,anditwasn’tlikeWellshadn’tbeeninvited.Hehad.Rhys
hadeventalkedtohimacoupleofdaysbeforethewedding,butwhentheactualdayarrived,hehadn’tbeenthere.

Noexcuse,nothing.Justatotalno-show.
Whatkindofbrotherwasthat?
Butthen,fromwhatGwynrememberedoftheoneverybriefinteractionshe’deverhadwithLlewellynPenhallow,sheshouldn’t
havebeenthatsurprised.

“Rhyssaysthat’sjusthowheis,”Viviwentonnow.“Hisfatherwouldn’tcome,sohewouldn’t,either.He’s…Idon’t
know,loyal,Iguess.AndIthinkthatpubkeepshimbusy.”

ItwasstillbizarretoGwynthatLlewellynPenhallow,who’dpracticallybeenfamousforwhatapowerfulwitchhewasthat
onesemesteratPenhaven,ranabarbackinWalesinsteadofdoingsomekindofImpressiveWitchShit,butGwynhadneverreallycaredenoughtoaskjustwhy
thatwas.

“Myjobkeepsmebusy,too!”shesaidnow,crossingherarmsoverherchest.“Theotherday,Iwasorganizinggrimoiresin
thebackroomatSomethingWicked,andthenIwas,like,‘Youknow,“grimoire”isaweirdname,wheredidthatevencomefrom?’
andthenextthingIknew,Ihad,like,twelveWikipediatabsopen,anditwasdarkoutside.”

Vivismiledatthat,shakingherheadasshecontinuedtrudginguphill,andGwynfollowed.
“ButIstillcametoyourweddingisthething,”sheadded,andVivireachedout,brushingGwyn’shandwithhers.
“AndIappreciateit.JustlikeIappreciateyoucheckingthisoutwithme.”
Gwynhadbeensocaughtupinrighteousindignationthatshealmostforgotwhereshewasandwhattheyweredoing.
Right.Ghosthunt.Spookywoods.
“Maybetherewon’tbeaghost?”Gwynoffered,really,reallyhopingthatwasthecase.She’dhadplansfortonight,plans
thatinvolvedtryingoutanewteashe’dorderedandtakinganobscenelylongbath.Plansthatinnowayinvolvedhikingthrough
thewoodslateatnightallbecauseVivihadoverheardsomeofherstudentsatthecollegetalkingaboutstrangelightsand
noisesinthispartoftheforest.

“It’sprobablyjustkidswithflashlights,drinkingbeerandmakingpoorromanticchoices,”Gwynsaidnow,hermouthalittle
dryasshelookedaroundher.EvenwiththehelpofVivi’slightspell,thedarknessfeltintense,heavy.Shegotthesense
thattherecouldbeanythingwatchingherjustoutsideofthiswarmcircleoflight,athousandeyesinthetrees,andshe
shivered,pullingthesleevesofhersweateroverherhands.

“Maybe,”Viviacknowledged,toeingapileofleaveswithonebootedfoot.“Butwehavearesponsibilitytothetowntomake
sureit’snothingmorethanthat.”

“Responsibility”wasnotawordGwynwasahugefanof,butshehadtoadmithercousinwasright:ItwastheJoneswomen’smagicthatfueledGravesGlen,andthatmeantiftherewasmagicalfuckeryhappening,itwasuptoGwynandVivitostopit.
Linkingherarmwithhercousin’s,GwyntuggedViviclose.“Ireallyhatewhenyou’reright.It’soneofyourmostobnoxious
qualities.”

Vivigrinnedather.“Rhyssaysthesamething.”
“TheraresubjectonwhichyourhusbandandIagree,”Gwynsaidonasigh,andVivibumpedherhip,stillsmiling,thelight
floatingoverthemglowingbrightlyonherface.

Toobrightly,Gwynsuddenlyrealized.
Becauseitwasn’ttheonlylightaroundthemnow.
Gwynturnedherheadslowly,herarmstilllockedwithVivi’sasshetookinthe…thingdriftingthroughtheforesttoward
them.

TheoneghostGwynhadseenhaddefinitelylookedlikeaperson.Glowyandfloatylikewhateverthiswas,butdefinitelyperson-like.
Thiswasn’tthat.Itwasalmostlikeacloud,shiftingandundulating,emittingthisweirdgreenlight,andthemagiccoming
offofit…

Gwynshiveredevenhardernow,herteethnearlychattering.She’dalwaysbeenmoresensitivetomagicthanViviorElaine,
abletofeelitspresencesoonerthantheycould.Thisthinghadsneakeduponher,butnowthatitwashere,shecouldtell
thatwhateverhadmadeit,therewassomethingwrong.

Big-timewrong.
ShereachedintoherbagjustasVivimovedcloser,herbrowsdrawntogether.“I’veneverseenanythinglikethisbefore,”shesaid,raisingonearmouttowardthething.
“Vivi,maybedon’ttouchthescaryblob?”Gwynoffered,pushingawaythecandlesandthecrystals,herfingersbrushingthe
velvetpouchholdingthebathsalts.

Vivikeptwalkingtowardit,thathandstilloutstretched.“RhysandIspentallthattimeresearchingcurseslastyear,and
wedidn’tcomeacrossanythingthatevenremotelylookedlikethis,”shewenton.“Ican’teventellwhatit’smadeof.”

“Mynightmaresandabitofhairgel?”Gwynsuggested,finallymanagingtogetahandfulofsalt.“Anyway,it’sbadandI
hateit,soduck.”Chapter2
“Wait!”
Gwynwhirledaroundtoseethreefiguresstandingjustattheedgeofthebubble’sglow,theirfacesasicklygreen.Salt
wasstillclutchedinherfist,readyforlaunch,whenVivisaid,“Sam?”

Ayoungwomansteppedforward,herhairbrightturquoise,thebubblereflectedinherglasses.Gwynrecognizedhernow.She
wasawitchatthecollegewhoalsoworkedattheCoffeeCauldron,thecaféjustdownthestreetfromGwyn’sshop.Thegirl
nexttoher,shorterwithlongblackhaircaughtbackinabraid,workedthere,too,Gwynrealized.Thethirdkidwasunfamiliar,
butlookedjustasfreakedoutastheothertwo,darkeyeswide.

Viviclearlyknewthem,though,andasshemovedcloser,theyallquailedalittlebit.
“Whatareyouthreedoingouthere?”sheaskedbeforeturningtoGwynandsaying,“ThisisSam,Cait,andParker.They’re
inmyHistoryofMagicclassatPenhaven.Andthey’reusuallygoodstudentswhocertainlywouldn’tbeinthewoods,messingaroundwithdangerousmagic.”

“Okay,soIknowthislooksbad,”Samsaid.“Andadmittedly,thingsare…notgoingtoplan,butthisspellisharmless,
Ipromise.”

“Itwasmyidea,actually,Dr.Jones,”Caitoffered.“We’reallinDr.Arbuthnot’sSimpleFormConversionclassthissemester,
andshewasteachingusabouthowtoturnonethingintoanother,like,youknow,aleafintosomethingelse.”

Gwynbarelymanagedtokeepfromrollinghereyes.Thecollegewitchesneverstrayedfromtheirclassics,didthey?Whybother
figuringoutanythingnewandinnovativeinwitchcraftwhenyoucoulddothesameboringlessonsyearafteryear?

“Andanyway,”Caitcontinued,“itmademethinkaboutHalloweencomingup,andwecouldmaybeusemagicto,youknow,level
upalittlebit.Forthetourists.”

“Soyoudecidedtomagickupaghost?”Viviasked,frowningasshecrossedherarmsoverherchest.
Gwynwentforasimilarpose,hopingshelookedassternandauthoritativeasVividid,butknowingthatherghostsweater
wasprobablyunderminingit.

“Itisn’taghost!”Saminsisted.“Seriously,it’sjustalittlebitofglitter,glue,andwaterthatwemagickedupinto
lookinglikeaghost.”Shenoddedatthethirdmemberoftheirlittleparty.“ItwasactuallyParker’sidea.They’rereallygood
atthiskindofstuff.”

Parkerpreenedalittle,flickingtheirbrowncurlsback.“It’sreallynotthathard,”theysaid.“Youjust—”
“Nope!”Viviliftedahand,cuttingthemoff.“Thismightseemharmless,butthisisexactlywhywedon’tdorealmagicforthetourists.Thekidsinmynon-witchclasseshavebeentalkingallweekaboutthisglowingthinginthe
woods.We’resupposedtobealittlemorediscreetthanthat.”

Thethreewitcheslookedalittlecrestfallenatthat,andGwyncouldtellCaitwasabouttoargue.Andhonestly,shegot
it.Whatwasthepointofhavingmagicifyoucouldn’thavesomefunwithit?

ButGwynknewsheneededtohavehercousin’sbackhere,soshesteppedclosertoViviandsaid,“Vivi’sright,y’all.Trust
me,magicthatseemslikealittlebitoffunandnotallthatseriouscanveryeasilyblowupinyourfaces.Andifyouwanttotrysomething
likethis,youneedtohaveamoreexperiencedwitchsupervisingattheveryleast.”

SheandVivihadhadElaine,afterall.
ButSamonlylookedglum,shakingherhead.“Dr.Jones,youknowhowstrictthecollegeis.Therearealltheserulesabout
whenandwherewe’resupposedtodomagic.Wenevergetthechancetojust…improvise.Trynewthings.”

“Yeah,thoserulesareactuallythereforgoodreasons,andIsaythatassomeonewhohatesrulesonprinciple,”Gwynreplied,
thenglancedoveratVivi.

Vivilovedrules.Ruleswereherfavorite.

Butinstead,Viviwaswatchingthetrioofwitcheswithathoughtfulexpression.“Iguessthecollegeisalittleformalon
thatkindofthing,”shesaidslowly.“Andpartofdevelopingyourskillsdoescomefrompractice…”

NowsheturnedtoGwyn,whofrowned.“Don’tdothinkyfaceatme,”shesaid,andVivi’sbrowfurrowed.
“Idon’thaveathinkyface.”
“Youdo!You’rethinkyfacingatmerightnow,andIdon’tlikeit!”
“Iwasjustthinking—”Vivistarted,andGwynpointedather.
“See?”
Ignoringthat,Viviwenton,“—thatmaybethisisalsopartofourresponsibilitynow.Tothetown.Tomentoryoungwitches.
Givethemasafespacetotryoutmagicthatisn’tconnectedtothecollege.”

Therewasthatwordagain,andGwynwasgoingtoremindVivithattheyhadplentyofresponsibilitiesasitwas—Gwynhadthe
store,Vivihadtwojobs,andHalloweenwasnextmonth,whichmeantthingswouldgetevenmorehectic.NowshewantedthemtosetupsomekindofGirl
ScouttroopforBabyWitches?

ButthenGwynlookedoverVivi’sshoulderandsawthatSam,Cait,andParker’sfaceswerepracticallyglowingatthethought,
theireyesgoingthefullpuppydog,andwhensheglancedbackatthe“ghost,”shehadtoadmit,itwasaprettyimpressive
bitofmagic.Theluminescenteffectalonewastoughtocreate,eventoughertomaintain,andthey’ddoneit.

And,ifshewashonest,shecouldadmitthattherewassomethingkindoffunabouttheideaofbeinganElaineforanewgeneration
ofwitches.

“Fine,”shesaidonasigh.“ButonlybecauseIthinkitwouldreallypissoffyourbossesatthecollege.”
Vivishookherhead,smiling,andthenturnedbacktoherstudents.
“Allright,soGwynandIwillworkwithyouifyouwanttostarttryingoutspells.But.Nomoreskulkingaroundinthewoodsatnight,andabsolutelyno‘improvising’withouttalkingtooneofusfirst,okay?”

Thethreeofthemnoddedsofastitwasawondertheirheadsdidn’tsnapoff,andVividustedherhandstogether,clearly
pleasedwithherself.

“Sonowtheonlythingtodoisgetridofthis,”shesaid,gesturingbacktothehoveringblob,andParkerfrowned.
“Yeah.That’s…kindofwhywewereouthere.We’renotreallysurehowtounmakeit?”

Gwynturnedbacktotheshimmeringmass,nowsignificantlylessscarysincesheknewwhatitwasmadeoutofandwhohadmade
it.

Withoutgivingittoomuchthought,shereachedbackintoherbag,grabbingthathandfulofsaltagain.
Vivifrowned.“Gwyn,Idon’tknow—”
“Oh,comeon,”Gwynsaid.“Couldn’thurt!”
Andwiththatextremelyill-fatedpronouncement,shethrewthesalt.
“Hasanyonetoldyouyou’reaweebitimpulsive,Gwynnevere?”
GwynglaredacrossthetableatRhys,Vivi’shusband,asshescrubbedherwethairwithatowel.She’dtakenatwenty-minuteshowerwhenshe’dgottenbacktohercabin,butshestillfeltlikeshewascoveredinghostgoop.Howcouldsomethingtechnicallymadeoutofglue,glitter,andmagicbesodisgustingwhenitexploded?
Thereprobablywasn’tashowerstrongenoughtomakehereverfeelcleanagain,asentimentViviclearlysharedbecauseshe
stillhadn’temergedfromtheupstairsbathroom.

“Asamatteroffact,theyhave,”GwynansweredRhysnow.“Teachers,severalexes,andoneparticularlymeantrafficcourt
judge.Andnowyou.”

“WhatgloriouscompanyIkeep,”Rhysreplied,movingtothecounterwhereanelectrickettlewasbubblingaway.
Viviappeared,wrappedinoneofElaine’srobes,herdamphairleavingspotsonthepeacock-bluesilk.“Ifeellikethatwas
thefirstofmanyshowersI’mgoingtotaketonight,”shesaid,andRhyssmiledather,handingheramugoftea.

“AslongasIgettojoininonatleastone,Iseenoproblemsthere,mylove.”
Vivismiledatthat,steppingcloser,andastheywrappedtheirarmsaroundeachother,Gwynrolledhereyes.Shewashappy
forthem,really,andGoddessknewthetwoofthemhadbeenthroughitbeforefindingthishappilyeverafter,buthonestly,
therehadtobelimits.
“Iamsittingrighthere,”shesaid.“Zerodesiretobeprivytoanyofthis!”
“Hey,”Vivisaid,pointingafingeratGwyn.“DoyouknowhowmanytimesIhadtositonthecouchandwatchyoufull-onmakeoutwithsomeonewhileIpretendedtolookatmyphone?Thisispayback.”
“Fair,”Gwynadmitted,evenassherealizedjusthowlongithadbeensinceshe’dmadeoutwithanyone.Months,really.
Thatwasdepressing.
Rhyschuckled,pressingaquickkisstoVivi’sforeheadbeforepullingawayandturningbacktothetea,Vivicomingtosit
acrossfromGwynatthetable.ThistendedtobetheplacetheyallgatheredthesedayseventhoughVivihadherownapartment
overthestoredowntown,wheresheandRhyscurrentlylived.TechnicallyRhyshadhisfamily’splacehigherupthemountain,
butgiventhatthehousewaslikesomethingoutofaTimBurtonmovie,itusuallysatempty.

Rhyswalkedbacktothetable,handingGwynamug,andsincehe’dusedherfavoriteteablend,shedecidedtoforgivehim
formakingherthinkaboutshowersex.

“Ihavetosay,Ilikethispartwherewegoouttodowitchthingsandyoustayhereandmaketea,”Gwynsaid,blowingover
thetopofhermugashercat,SirPurrcival,leaptupontothetable.Gwynhadtriedshooinghimdownovertheyears,but
thefactthathenowhadaverycozycatbedrightinthecenterofthingswasproofofwho’dwonthatfight.

Heblinkedather,hiseyesabrightyellowgreenagainsthisblackfurasRhyssnorted,pouringhotwaterintohisownmug.
“Iknowmystrengths,”hetoldherbeforecomingtositdownnexttohiswife.

“And,spellexplosionaside,itseemslikeyouhadaproductivenight,”hecontinued.“Foundoutthesourceoftheghostrumors,steeredsomelocalyouthsbackontothecorrectpath…”
“ThatwasallVivi,”Gwynassuredhim.“Shemadethinkyfaceatme,andIwashelplesstoresist.”
“Idonothaveathinkyface,”Viviobjected,butRhyssmiled,shakinghishead.
“Youabsolutelydo,mylove.It’soneofmytopfavoritefacesofyours.Somethingsortoflikethis.”
Rhysfurrowedhisbrowjusttheslightestbit,hiseyestakingonafarawayexpression,andGwynslappedthetablewithher
freehand.

“That’sit!God,that’suncanny.”
Viviscowledassheglancedbackandforthbetweenthem.“Youknow,itwasmuchbetterformewhenyoutwodidn’tlikeeach
other.”

“I’vealwayslikedGwyn,”Rhysprotested,andGwynshrugged.
“Ididn’tlikeyou.”
“Dickbag,”SirPurrcivalsaidsleepilyfromhisspotinthemiddleofthetable,andRhysscowledatthecat.

“Stillnoluckonreversingthewholetalkingspellthing,Itakeit?”heaskedGwyn,andsheshrugged.
“Notreallyapriority.”Thankstosomewitcheryfuckerylastyear,SirPurrcivalcouldspeak.Itturnedoutacat’sthoughts
weremostlyaboutfoodandinsults,butGwynhadgottenusedtoit.

Sheleanedforward,pettingPurrcival,andheliveduptohisname,purringhappilyasshestrokedhisback.Acrossthetable,Rhys’shandwenttothebackofVivi’sneck,andsheleanedintohistouchjustthelittlestbit,probablyunconsciously.
Gwynfeltitagain,thatweirdlittlefeelinginthepitofherstomachthatcouldnotbejealousyorlongingoranythinglikethat,becausethosewerefeelingsGwynverymuchdidnothave.

Butitwas…something,andshedidn’tlikeit.
Todistractherselffrompossiblyfeelingfeelings,Gwynreachedacrossthetableforthelittlejaroflavenderhoney,adding
somemoretoherteaassheasked,“Sobigtriprapidlyapproaching?”

“Yes,itis,”Rhyssaid,“anditwillshockyounotatalltolearnthatViviennealreadyhasaverythoroughpackinglist.
I,ontheotherhand—”

“Maybeweshouldn’tgo.”
Vivisaidthewordshesitantly,glancingbackandforthbetweenRhysandGwyn.“Just…tonightremindedmethatnowthat
ourmagicisfuelingthetown,wehave—”

“Vivi,ifyousay‘responsibilities’onemoretimetonight,Iamgoingtocreateanotherghostblobjusttoexplodeonyou
alloveragain.”

“Well,wedo,”Vivisaid.“AndHalloweeniscomingup.”

“Inoveramonth,”Gwynremindedher,andRhystookhiswife’shand,nodding.
“Andwe’llbebackintime.”
“Andyoudeservealong-delayedhoneymoon.”

“Andthat,”Rhysagreed,pointingatGwyn.“Plusyou’vewantedtotakethistripforages.”
Vivibitherlowerlip,thinking.“Itwouldbereallyhelpfulwithmyresearch.”
“Go,”Gwynurgedhernow.“Everythingherewillbefine.Thestoreisdoinggreat.Itpracticallyrunsitselfthistimeof
yearanyway,andtobehonest,I’vebeencravingsomealonetime.”

Bothofthosewerelies—thestorewasn’tdoingsohotrightnowdespitetheirbeingsoclosetoHalloween.AndGwynwasactually
slightlyallergictobeingalone,butshegavehercousinherbrightestsmile.

“Besides,Iwantsouvenirs.LittleWelshflags,maybesomekindofstuffeddragonsituation…ooh,andifyouseeRhys’s
brother,youcankickhiminthenadsforme!”

“Whichbrother?”Rhysasked,thenheldupahand.“Imean,I’llhappilykickeitherone,IjustneedtomakesureI’vecalculated
theappropriatedefensestrategyoncethey’vegottenup.”

“ShemeansWells,”Vivisaid,smilingalittleatlast.“She’sstillholdingagrudgeaboutthewedding.”
Rhyspulledaface.“I’mnotholdingagrudgeaboutthewedding,anditwasmywedding.Andmybrother,forthatmatter.”

Gwynshrugged.“Don’tseektoquestionmygrudge-holdingways,Rhys.I’maTaurus.”
Shedidn’tbothertoaddthathergrudgeagainstWellsPenhallowhadexistedsincelongbeforethewedding,thatithadits
rootsinhercollegedays,butifagirlcouldholdagrudge,shecouldalsokeepsomesecrets.

“Fairenough,”Rhysreplied.“Welshflag,stuffeddragon,emasculatedbrother,allforyouuponourreturn.”
Vivifinallylaughed,leaningherheadbrieflyagainstRhys’sshoulder.
“Okay,Ican’tbeatyouwhenyouteamup,”shesaid.“You’reright.Everything’sfine,thetownwillbefine,andwewill
totallygotoWalesasplanned.”

“ThanksweetChrist,”Rhyssaidonasigh,floppingbackinhischair,andGwynsmiled,reachingacrossthetabletosqueeze
Vivi’shand.

“Look,we’vealreadydealtwithanentirecursedtown,atalkingcat,andnowanexplodingghost,andwe’vehandledallof
it.Whatcouldpossiblyhappenthatwouldbeworsethananyofthat?”
Chapter3
WhenthedooropenedtoTheRavenandCrown,Wellsactuallylethimselfbelieve—foolishly—thathemighthaveacustomercoming
in.

Itwasarainyeveningafterall,themid-SeptemberweathertypicallycoolandblusteryforthistinycornerofWales,and
thepubwaswarm.Cozy,even.Therewasafirecracklingmerrilyawayinthehearth,therewasancientdarkwoodeverywhere,
and,mostimportant,ifyou’dbeenoutintherainonacoldautumnnight,therewasalcohol.

Lotsofit,givenhowrarelyWellsactuallygottopouradrinkinthisplace.
Sowhenheheardthecreakingofthedoor,heardtherainslappingagainstthesideofthebuildingassomeonepushedtheir
wayin,hesituatedhimselfatthetaps,readytopullapintorpouradram,whateverwasneeded.

Thefigureatthedoormutteredtohimself,pullingoffahoodedgreatcoat,andanolderversionofWells’sownfacestared
backathim.

Bollocks.
Notacustomerafterall,merelyhisownfather.
SimonPenhallowdidn’toftenmakehiswaydownintothevillageofDweniniaid,preferringtheconfinesoftheirslightlyghastly
manoronahillsidejustoutsideoftown.Infact,WellsknewforafactthathisfatherhadonlybeeninTheRavenandCrown
twiceinthethirteenyearssinceWellshadtakenitover.

OncehadbeenWells’sfirstdayincharge,andhisfatherhadonlystayedlongenoughtogrunt,glancearound,giveanod
thatpassedforapprovalinthePenhallowfamily,andstompbackout.

Thesecondtimehadbeenlastyear,afterWells’syoungestbrother,Rhys,hadinformedhisfatherthatthePenhallowmagic
thathadoncefueledthetownofGravesGlen,Georgia,wasnolongerpresent,drivenoutbyapowerfulcovenofwitches.

OneofthosewitcheswasnowRhys’swife,somethingSimonhadnottakenparticularlywell.Privately,Wellsthoughtitwas
thebestthingforhisbrother,settlingdownwithawomanwhoseemedtobesensibleenoughasidefromfallinginlovewith
hisidiotbrother,butthatwassomethingbestkepttohimself.

Sonow,asWellswatchedhisfatherunwindhisscarf,hangingitalongsidehiscoat,hisdisappointmentthatthiswasn’tan
actualpayingcustomerslowlybegantobleedintosomethingelse.

Suspicion.
WhatonearthwouldbringSimonfromhisbooksandhisspellsandhisvariousplotsonanightlikethis?
“Evening,”Wellscalledout,alreadysearchingbehindthebarfortheonebrandofwhiskyhisfatherwoulddeigntodrink.Hekeptitonhandjustincaseamomentlikethisshouldeverarrive,andgiventhatithadn’tinnearlyayear,whenhedidlocateit,thebottlewasdustyenoughthathehadtosurreptitiouslywipeitwiththedamptowelhangingfromhisbeltloop.
“Notmuchofoneinhere,”Simoncommented,glancingaroundashetookaseatatthebar.
“Rainisprobablykeepingeveryoneathometonight,”Wellssaid,andeventohisears,itsoundedabsolutelyridiculous.Since
whenhadrainkeptanyonefromapubinWales?InalloftheUnitedKingdom,forthatmatter?

Buthisfatherlethimhavethelie,noddingabsentlytohimselfasheacceptedtheglassWellshadpouredforhim,andthen,
toWells’sabsoluteshock,turningtheglassupanddrainingitdryinonego.

Whenhethunkeditbacktothebarwithanodandagruff“Another,”Wellscomplied,thengrabbedhimselfaglassandsloshed
ameasureinaswell.Whateveritwasthathadhisfatherinthismood,itwouldsoonbecomeWells’sproblem,too.

Suchwaslifeastheeldestson.
Rhys,hisyoungestbrother,wouldtellhimhesecretlylovedthis,beingtheirfather’sright-handman,andwhileWellstried
nevertogiveRhyscreditforanythingifhecouldhelpit,hehadtoadmittherewasatimeinhislifewhenthathadbeen…
notentirelyuntrue.

Ithadbeeneasy,afterall,beingtheFavoredChild.Rhyshadmadeithismissioninlifetoirktheirfather,andBowen,themiddlebrother,hadalwaysseemedtooperateseparatelyfromallofthem,anislanduntohimself.Soyes,Wellshadenjoyedthewayhisfather’ssterngazenaturallyfellonhimwhentherewassomethingtodo,someresponsibilitytoshoulder.
Butafterthirty-fouryearsofit,thepastthirteenspentrunningthisdismallyunsuccessfulpub,Wellshadtoadmithewas
abittiredofthewholedutifulsonthing.

Andyet…
Herehewas,pouringhisfatherwhisky,waitingtohearwhathadtobedone.
Christ,hewashopeless.
Simonsippedthesecondwhiskymoreslowly,lookingoveratthefirebeforeturninghisfacebacktoWells.Shadowsplayed
alonghisseverebonestructure,makinghimlookmoresinisterthanhewas.

“It’salwayslikethis,”Simonsaid,thengesturedaroundthepubincaseWellshadn’tcaughthismeaning.“Dead.Isn’tit?”
Foramoment,Wellsthoughtaboutlyingagain,insistingthatitwasthestormormaybetherewassomeimportantgameonthe
telly—Goddessknewhisfatherwouldhavenoideaifthatwastrueornot—andthat’swhytherewasnoonebellieduptoWells’sbar.

Instead,hedroppedthetowelontothebarwithawetslap,bracingbothhandsoneithersideofit.“Actually,giventhat
you’veshownup,thisisabusynight.”

Hisfathermadethatsoundsomewherebetweenagruntandahuff,thenoisethatpassedforalaughforhim.WellshadheardhimselfmakeitjusttheotherdayonthephonetoRhys,andhewasn’tsurewhichoneofthemhadbeenthemorehorrified.
“Sothepubmygreat-great-grandfatheropenedisafailure,andthetownthatmygreat-great-unclefoundednolongercarries
adropofPenhallowmagic.”

Simonliftedhisglassinasortofironictoast,butgiventhatWellshadnotuntilthismomentknownthathisfathereven
understoodtheconceptofirony,thatwasabitalarming.

“Thepointofthepubwasnevertomakemoney,”heremindedhisfathernow.TheRavenandCrownhadbeenbuiltonthesite
ofthefirstsettlementofPenhallowwitchesinDweniniaid,andtherewasstillaflickerofthatancientmagicthere,magic
Wellstendedtoratherlikeagardenerwithadwindlingpotatopatch.

Ithadbeenhisancestors’hopethatbuildingapubinthespotwouldkeepthatmagicstrong,thelandfeedingofftheenergy
ofallthepeoplewhodrankandlaughedandfoughtandsanginavillagepub,andintheearlydays,ithad.

Butnow,nomatterthedailyspellsWellsdid,hecouldfeelthatlittleflameofmagicslowlyflickeringout,acandlein
agale.

“Iknowthat,”Simonsaidonasigh,sittingupalittleassomeofthemelancholyfadedfromhisface.“It’ssimplythat…
it’sasifit’sallslippingaway.Weanchoredourselveshere,andwedidthesameinAmerica,andwhathavewecometo?An
emptypuband…andthis.”

Withaflickofhishand,Simonconjuredupanovalofgraysmokethatgraduallygrewbiggerandclearer,resolvingitselfintosomethingresemblingamirror.
WellsknewimmediatelyhewaslookingatGravesGlen.He’donlybeenthereonce,thesummerhe’dtakenthetraditionalclasses
atPenhavenCollege,butwhilethathadbeenthirteenyearsago,notmuchhadchanged.Itwasstillaquaintlittlepocket
ofserenitytuckedintothegentlebluemountainsofGeorgiawithanold-fashionedmainstreetrunningthroughitsdowntown,
streetlightscastingasoftglowovereverything.

SomethinginWells’schestgavearatherpainfulkicklookingatit.He’donlystayedinGravesGlenforasemester,just
ahandfulofmonths,buttheplacehadalwaysstuckwithhim.He’dlikeditthere.Moreover,he’dlikedhimselfthere.InGravesGlen,thePenhallownamewasasourceofaweandinterest,notfear.There,he’dactuallybeenactively
practicinghismagicinsteadofjustpassivelychannelingitthroughthisplace.ButhisuncleColin,theguardianofthe
pubupuntilthen,haddied,anditwasimportantthataPenhallowwitchbethekeeperoftheflame,asitwere,andsomehow
yearshadgonebywithhimstuckinoneplace.

Wellsshookoffthosemelancholythoughts,focusingonthepictureinfrontofhim.
ItwaslateafternooninGravesGlennow,sothosestreetswererelativelybusy,peopleenjoyingtheperfect,goldenautumn
day,andinthemiddleofitall,Wellsspottedaboldshopwindow,agiantpapier-machéwitchgrinningathimasbrightpurple
lightsoverherheadspelledout…

“‘Practice…safe…hex,’”hereadoutcarefully,andhisfather’sglarenearlyignitedthelittlebitofwhiskyleftinhisglass.
“Thisiswhat’sbecomeofGryffud’sdream,”Simonsaiddarkly.“Thisplace,onceahavenforourkind,aseatof…of
learningand,anderudition,andtheperfectingofourcraftisnowrunbythesewomenhawkingtheircheapHalloweensouvenirs
andmakingridiculouspuns.”

AnotherflickofSimon’shand,andtheentirepicturedisappeared.
Asfaraspunswent,Wellsdidn’tthinkthatonewasparticularlyodious,butsincehisfatherwasalreadyreachingforthebottleofwhisky,pouringhisownglassthistime,Wellsthought
itmightbebestnottomentionthat.

Instead,hestartedtosay,“GravesGlen—”butoffofSimon’slook,quicklyamendedtotheWelsh.
“GlynnBedd,”hecorrected,“isn’tcompletelyfreeofPenhallows.Rhysisstillthere.”

SimongaveWellsalookthatsaidexactlywhathethoughtaboutthat,andWellsraisedhishandsindefense.“I’mjustsaying.Wehaven’tbeendrivenoutaltogether.”

Snorting,Simonpushedhishalf-fullglassaside.“OnceyourbrothermarriedthatJoneswoman,hebecameoneofthem.Make
nomistake,boy,hehaschosentheirfamilyoverours.ThePenhallowsarefinishedinGlynnBeddjustasweseemtobefinished
inDweniniaid.”

Heheavedanothersigh,asoutsidethunderrumbledthroughthesky.Ifhisfatherstayedinthismood,thewholebloodyvillagewouldfloodbeforetoolong.
Itwasalmostunbearable,allofasudden,thinkingofspendingdaysbehindthisbarwhilerainpouredfromtheskyandno
onewalkedinthatdoor.Wellskilledhistimewithreadinguponspellcraft,strengtheningtherunesandspellsputinto
thisplacetopreservetheoriginalsparkofPenhallowmagic,buttherewasonlysomuchofthatamancoulddo,really.

Wellsthoughtagainaboutthatfeelinghe’dhadwhenSimonhadconjuredupGravesGlen.
Notquitelonging,butnotfaroff,andsuddenly,hisheartbegantobeatharder,hismindracing,andthewordsseemedto
slipoutofhismouthbeforeheevenhadtimetothinkaboutthem.

“WhatifIwenttoGlynnBedd?”Chapter4
Wellswascarefultokeephisexpressionneutral,hisvoicecalm,butthesecondhesaidit,heknewthat’sexactlywhathe
wantedtodo,wherehewantedtobe.

Finallyachancetobeofuseandgetoutofthisdrearyplace.

Simonwatchedhimfromunderneathheavysilverbrows,hisfacegivingnothingaway,andWellscouldn’thelpbutrushin,leaning
acrossthebar.

“Iknowthepubisafamilytradition,butmaybeit’stimeforsomethingnew,eh?Icould…Icouldsetupsomekindof
shopthereintown.Somethingforseriouswitches,notthissillytouristynonsense.Icanmakesureournameisremembered
thereevenifourmagicisgone.”

Simontookthatin,turningtheglassinhishands.“There’sbeenaPenhallowrunningTheRavenandCrownforoverahundred
years,”hesaid,gruff.“Toseeitclosed…”

“Da,lookaround.It’sclosedinspiritifnotinname.Andallthespellsintheworldaren’tgoingtokeepthatlastlittle
bitofmagichangingonforever.Notwiththeplacethisempty.”

Wellsreachedforward,grabbinghisfather’sarmandgivingittheslightestshake.“Letmedothis.Letmehelp.”
“GlynnBeddisthemoreimportantfamilylegacy,true,”Simonadmittedbegrudgingly.“AndIcan’ttrustyourbrotherthere.”
HelookedupatWells,andforthefirsttime,therewasactuallyahintofsoftnessintheoldman’sface.“I’vealwaysbeen
abletotrustyoutodowhat’sbestforthisfamily.”

“AndIwill,”Wellspromised.ThatwasthethingabouttheirfatherthatRhysandBowenhadneverunderstood.Yes,hewas
strictandemotionallydistant,buthedidlovetheminhisway.Theywerehissons,andfamilymatteredmoretoSimonthan
anythingelse.WhyelsewouldhecaresomuchaboutthisgodforsakenpuborsomelittletowninthemountainsofGeorgia?

Becausethey’dbeenbuiltbyfamily,andthatmeantSimonsawitashisdutytosafeguardthem.
Wellshadwatchedoverthispubforoveradecade,andnowhewoulddothesameforGravesGlen.
Heavinganothersigh,SimonpulledhisarmfrombeneathWells’shand.
“You’reagoodlad,Llewellyn,”hesaid,andthenhereacheddown,tuggingaheavysilverringfromhisfinger.
Wellshadneverseenhisfatherwithoutthisparticularring,thestoneinthecenteradeeppurplethatalmostlookedblack,
Penhallowdragonsetchedoneithersideofit.

HepressedtheringintoWells’spalmnow,placinghisotherhandonWells’sshoulderashepulledhimin.
“Allright.GotoGlynnBedd.Protectourlegacythere.”
Andthen,shockingWellsevenmore,hegavehimabriefhug.“I’llmissyou,son,”hesaid,andWellswassurprisedtofeelhisthroattighteningupabit.
“I’llmissyou,too,Da.”
Hisfathergavehisbackaroughpat,thenstraightenedupwithahuffed,“Well.”
“Well,”Wellsechoed,andthen,withanod,hisfatherwaswalkingbackoutintothenight.Asthedooropened,Wellsnoticed
therainhadstopped.

Thepubwasstilltechnicallyopenforanotherhour,buthelockedthedoorbehindSimon,turningoffthemainlights.
He’dleavetomorrow,firstthing,butfornow,hespentalittleextratimewipingdowntables,stackingthechairsevenas
hethought,Goodfuckingriddance.
Hismindwasalreadychurningwithideas,noneofwhichinvolvedeverpullingapintagain.Inthatbriefglimpsehe’dgotten
ofthetown,he’dseenwhatappearedtobeanemptystorefront,andhewasalreadyimaginingwhathemightdowithsucha
space.

TheoppositeofwhateveritwasRhys’sin-lawsdid,clearly.Toeachtheirown,ofcourse,butsurelytherewasamarketfor
somethingalittlemoretasteful,somethingalittlemorereal.Aplacewherewitchesfromthecollegecouldgather,discussspellsandtechniques.AplacethatwouldensurethePenhallow
namewasstillassociatedwithmagicinthetown,nomatterwhosepowernowflowedthroughit.

Openingasmalldoorbehindthebar,Wellswassocaughtupinthisfantasyofhisnewlifethathewashalfwaydownthestairstothecellarhe’dconvertedintoaflatbeforeherealizedhewasn’talone.
Thehaironthebackofhisneckrose,andhecouldfeelmagicheavyintheair.Whoeveritwasdownhere,theywereawitch
aswell.

Apowerfulone.
“Who’sthere?”hecalled,evenashebeganmovinghisfingersathisside.Ithadbeenalongtimesincehe’dhadtodoany
kindofspelllikethis,butluckily,thememoryhadn’tlefthim.“Whatthehellareyoudoinginmypub?”

Hewasjustabouttolifthishand,letthestunspellhe’dworkedupfly,whensuddenly,alightflaredon,makinghimsquint,
thespellsputteringoutasafamiliarfacegrinnedathimfromthefarsideoftheroom.

“Notthewarmestwelcome,bigbrother.”
BowenwasstretchedoutonWells’sbed,onehandstillliftedfromthelightspellhe’dconjured,andwhatappearedtobe
ametrictonofhaironhisface.Wellsfelt,asheoftendidwithbothhisbrothers,thatfamiliarsurgeofirritationand
affection.

“Icould’vekilledyou,”hesaidtoBowen,flippingonthelightsasBowen’sspellwinkedout.
“Couldhave,”Bowenagreedwithashrug.“Didn’t.”
IthadbeenoverayearsinceWellshadseenhisbrother,andclearlyBowenhadbeenusingthattimetogetbothhairierandmoreannoying.ThehairierpartWellscouldatleastunderstand—Bowenhadspentthepastfewyearsdoingsomekindofmagicalresearchupinthemountains.Facialhairwasprobablyarequirementforthatkindofthing.
“HowdidyougetdownherewithoutmeorDaseeingyou?”Wellsasked,crossinghisarmsoverhischest.
Bowengrunted.“Magic.”
“Hmm,”wasWells’sonlyreply,andthenheglanceddownandfrowned.
“Getyourbloodybootsoffmybed,”hesaid,smackingatBowen’sfeet,andhisyoungerbrothersmirked,swinginghislegs
downandsittingontheedgeofthebed.

Helookedtired,Wellsnoticednow,andalittleonthepaleside.WellshadnoideawhatexactlyitwasBowendidoutthere
inthewilderness,butwhateveritwas,itwastakingatoll,clearly.

“Doyouwantsomethingtodrink?”heasked,andBowenwavedhimoff.
“Nah,I’mnotstickingaroundlong.Ihavetomakemywayuptothehouseeventually,Ijust…”Hepausedandblewout
alongbreath.“Wasn’tquiteuptoityet.”

WellsknewbothhisbrothershadaverydifferentrelationshipwithSimonthanhedid,butitwas,inhisopinion,slightly
ridiculousthattheyactedasthoughtalkingtotheirfatherweresomesortofmonumentalfeat.Hediditnearlyeveryday,
afterall,butthenmaybeitwasoneofthosethingswhereyouhadtobuildupatolerance.

Likeexercise.Orpoison.
“How’veyoubeen?”heaskedBowenashecrossedtheroomtothesmallbarcarthe’dsetupandpouredhimselfafingerofwhisky.Notnearlyasfineabrandashisfatherpreferred,butthesmokywarmthhelpedeasethetensioninhisshoulders,chasedawaysomeofthelingeringchill.
“Fine,”wasBowen’sonlyreply.Wellssometimeswonderedhowitwasthathewastheonlyoneofthemwhoknewtheappropriate
amountofwordstouseinasentence.Rhystalkedentirelytoomuch,Bowentoolittle.

ThenBowenjerkedhisheadinthedirectionofthestairs.“Heardyou’regoingtoGlynnBedd.”
“Ah,sosneakinginandeavesdropping.Lovely,”Wellssaid,andthen,whenBowenjustkeptwatchinghim,relentedwithanod.

“Yes.Someonefromthefamilyneedstobetherenowthatwe’vebeenmagicallydrivenout,sotospeak.”
“Rhysisthere.”
“Rhys’sloyaltiesare…conflicted.OrsoDathinks.”
Bowenrubbedhischin,thennodded.“Makessense.He’sarseovertitforher.”
“Seeingashowthey’remarried,onewouldhopeso.”
Tiltinghishead,BowenstudiedWellsforabeat,thenasked,“Whydidn’tyoucome?Tothewedding?”
GuiltstilltuggedatWellsforthat.He’dwantedtogo,hadplannedtogo,butintheend,he’dfollowedSimon’slead.Rhys
hadn’ttakenitbadly,soithadprobablybeenforthebest.

Stillmadehimfeellikeabitofashit,though.
“Couldn’tgetaway,”wasallhesaidnow,andBowengaveanotheroneofthoselaconicshrugs.
“Well,nowyou’llbelivinginthesametown,soIguessyou’llgettoseeplentyofeachother.”
Right.
Wellshadn’treallythoughtofthatyet,howRhysmighttaketohiminGravesGlen.Theygotalongwellenough,butRhysdidn’t
trusttheirfather,andWellsdoubtedhe’dbelieveWellswascomingtotownofhisownvolition.Hehadatendencytoalways
thinktheworstofbothofthem.

SomethingWellswoulddealwithlater.Fornow,hejustsmiledatBowen,leaningbackagainstthewall.“Exactly.Plentyof
timeforfraternalbonding.”

“AndDa’sjustlettingyougo?”Bowenasked,hisbrowwrinkled.
Wellssnortedashethrewbackthelastofhiswhisky.
“Youmakeitsoundlikehe’sbeenkeepingmeprisonerhere.”
Bowendidn’tsayanythingtothat,buttheexpressiononhisfaceasheglancedaroundWells’ssmallroom—which,allright,
hecouldadmitwasperhapsabitcell-ish—waseloquentenough.

“Ichosetostayhere,”WellsremindedBowennow,pointingathimwiththehandholdinghisglass.“Justasyouchosetodo
whateveritishehasyoudoingupthereinthemountains,andRhyschosetodo…well,Rhyschosetofuckoff,mostly,
butpointis,IstayedbecauseIwantedto.AndnowIwanttogotoGravesGlen.”

Rhyswould’vepressedhimonthat,butBowen,Goddesslovehim,acceptedit,noddingasherosefromthebed,slappinghis
handsonhisthighs.

“Fairenough.Wasteofagoodwitch,keepingyouhereanyway.”
“Thankyou,”Wellsreplied,becauseheknewthat,comingfromhisbrother,thatwaspracticallyafawningcompliment.
“I’llleaveyoutoit,then,”Bowensaid,movingtowardthestairs.
“Thoughtyou’dneverleave,”Wellsreplied,wry,andhethoughthesawthehintofasmilebeneathallthatbeard.
ThenBowenpaused,turningtostudyWellsbeforesaying,“Watchyourself.InGlynnBedd.”
Wellsraisedhiseyebrows.“Why?AmIindangerfrombeingsmotheredbeneathapileofHalloweencandyandtackymasks?”
Bowenmadeagrumblingsoundthatmighthavebeenalaugh.“Alwaysapossibility.Butno,it’sjust…wheneverthere’s
amagicaltransferenceofpower,likewhathappenedtherelastyear,shitcangetweird.”

Wellswaited,andwhennothingmorewasforthcoming,asked,“Wouldyoucaretoelaborateonthat,oristhisnewcrypticthing
somethingyou’vepickedupfromthesheep?”

Bowengruntedagain,rollinghisshoulders.“I’mjustsaying.Placeslikethat,they’revulnerableforawhile.Startacting
likemagnetsforsomefucked-upmagic.AndwithSamhainontheway,it’ssomethingtothinkabout.”

“I—”Wellsstarted,butbeforehecouldevenfinishhissentence,Bowenhadvanished.Chapter5
ThePenhallowhouse,justupthemountainfromGwyn’sowncozycabin,was,ifyouwerebeingcharitable,kindofweird.
Ifyouweren’tbeingcharitable—andGwynveryrarelywas—itlookedlikesomeonehadbeenamassivefanoftheHauntedMansion
rideatDisneyWorldanddecidedtore-createthatintheirownhouse.Therewasvelvet,therewasdamask,therewereheavy
chandeliersmadeofironandantlers,andtherewerepaintingsoflong-deadancestorsscowlingbeneathcenturiesofgrime.

Completenightmareofaplace,andGwyndidn’tblameViviandRhysforchoosingtoliveinVivi’sapartmentdowntowneven
thoughiteasilycould’vefitinthekitchenofthishouse.

However,shehadtoadmitthatifyouwerethrowingawitchy-themedbacheloretteparty,thePenhallowhousewasprettyfreaking
perfect.

“DidIusetoomuchlavender?”
Gwynlookedupfromherownmixofbathsaltstoseethebride,Amanda,holdingupanetbagthatdidlookawfullypurple,butshejustsmiledandshookherhead.“Nosuchthingastoomuch,”shesaidbrightly,addinganotherscoopofrosemarytohersalts.“That’sthefunofthesekindsofprojects.”
“Right,andisn’tlavendersupposedtobecalming?”Thatwasthemaidofhonor,Leigh,currentlysittingtoGwyn’sleft,sparkly
witch’shatslightlyaskewasshepointedatAmanda.“Girl,youcouldusethat.”

TheotherwomenlaughedandAmandagaveacheerfulshrugbeforegulpingthelastofherwineandsettinghergobletdownon
themassiveoakdiningroomtable.Shehadherownglitterywitch’shat,butGwynhadaddedablacktulleveiltohersas
wellasasashproclaimingAmandaHEADWITCHINCHARGE.
NotthatAmandawasactuallyawitch.ThesixwomencurrentlygatheredaroundthePenhallowdiningroomtablewereallthoroughly
normalandassumedGwynwas,too.ButwheninGravesGlen…

Thebacheloretteparties—andthebirthdayparties,andtheholidayparties,andonekindofweirdretirementthing—hadbeen
oneofGwyn’smorebrilliantideastomakealittleextramoneyforthestore.Itmadesensetoreallyleanintothewhole
Halloweenvibeofthetown,avibethatseemedtobelastinglongerandlongerthesedays,sowhynottakeadvantage?

“Sowhatarewedoingafterthis?”Amandaasked,leaningherchinonherhand.“Ouijaboard?”
Gwynsuppressedashudderasshetiedoffherbathsaltbagwithalittlepieceofribbon.“Iwasthinkingatarotreading,”
shesaid.“Ouija’svibeisalittledarker.”

“That’strue,”oneofthebridesmaids,Mel,said,nodding.“Noone’smakinghorrormoviesabouttarotcards,Amanda.”
TheothersallhummedinagreementasGwyngotupfromthetable,movingtothesideboardwhereshe’dsetupsnacksand,as
acenterpiece,agiantcauldronfilledwithabrightgreenliquidthatlookeddangerousandslightlynoxiousbutwasreally
justamixoffruitjuice,champagne,alittlevodka,andalotoffoodcoloring.Sofar,ithadbeenabighit,somuchof
ahitthatGwynwasgladshe’dalreadyarrangedforthewomentogetrideshometonight.

Infact,asshelookedbackatthem,gigglingovertheirplasticgoblets,theirfacesalittlepink,theirvoicesgetting
louder,shewonderedifsheshouldskipthetarotaltogetherandjustletthemchat.Thecardswereneverasclearwhenyou
werereadingforsomeonewhowasdrunk,andthelastthingGwynwantedtodowasaccidentallykillthevibebecauseshepulled
Deathforsomeonegettingmarriedintwoweeks.

Tarotwasout,then,shedecidedassheturnedbacktothepunch,givingitastir.
“Ladies,whatareourfeelingsaboutcrystals?”sheasked,butwhensheturnedbackaround,noneofthepartywaslooking
ather.

Theywereallstaringatthedoortothediningroomor,morespecifically,atthemanstandinginthedoorway.
Gwyncouldn’tblamethem.
Hewastall,darkhaircurlingoverthecollarofanavywoolpeacoat,aneatlytrimmedbeardaccentuatingthesharpanglesofhisface.Hewasholdingalargeleatherbag,hisexpressionsomewherebetweenwaryandbaffledashetookinthescenebeforehim,andGwyn’seyesnarrowed.Hewasolder,andthebeardhadthrownherforasecond,butsheknewexactlywhoshewaslookingat.
“Ishe…astripper?”oneofthewomentriedtowhisper,butsinceherbloodstreamwasprobablyabout60percentalcohol,
itmightaswellhavebeenashout.

“Hedoesn’tlookverystrippery,”someoneelsereplied,andthemankeptstaringaroundthetable,hisgazefinallysettling
onMel,theonebridesmaidwhohaddecidedtogothetraditionalroutewhenitcametoheadgearand,insteadofawitch’s
hat,waswearingabrightpinkheadband,twoplasticpenisesbobbinglikeantennaeoverherblondhair.

Gwynwatchedhiseyesfollowthosepenisesforabeatbeforehefinallylookedupandseemedtonoticeherforthefirsttime.
Thescowldeepened.“MayIaskwhatisgoingonhere?”
Hisvoicewasrough,hisaccentaslightlythickerversionofRhys’sliltingtones,deeperthanithadbeenthirteenyears
ago.

Gwynfoldedherarmsoverherchest.“Party,”shesaidsuccinctly,andjustasshe’danticipated—justasshe’dhoped—hisposturesomehowwentevenmorerigid.

“ThisisthePenhallowhouse,”hesaid,shouldersgoingbackevenashiseyesonceagaindroppedtoMel’sheadband.
“Itis,yeah,”shesaid.“Butwe’reusingittonight.”
Themanliftedhisgazetohersagain,browsdrawingtogether.“Withwhoseauthority?”heasked,andGwynsmirked,leaning
backagainstthesideboard.

“Well,firstofall,‘authority’isnotoneofmyfavoritewords,andsecondly,I’mnotsurethatit’sreallyyourbusiness,butRhysislettingususeittonight.”
Hisexpressionclearedatthementionofhisbrother,butbeforehecouldsayanythingelse,Gwynpointedathim.“Ladies,
thisisLlewellynPenhallow,”shetoldthebridesmaids.“Rhys’sbrother.Whodidn’tcometoRhysandVivi’swedding,Ishould
add.”

Sheheardaslightgaspfromthebridesmaidsbutdidn’tlookoveratthemasshemovedclosertoLlewellyn.
Hewasscowlingnow.
“Notthatit’sanyofyourbusiness,buttherewerereasonsIwasunabletoattendthewedding.”
“AsIwasthemaidofhonor,itwasextremelymybusiness,”Gwyncountered,andLlewellyn’sbrowfurrowed.

“You’reVivienne’scousin.Gwyn.”
“Theoneandonly,”shereplied,wonderingifherememberedherfromPenhaven.They’donlyeverseeneachotherthatonetime,
andherhairhadbeenpurplebackthen,plushe’dseemedmoreinterestedinshowingherupthananythingelse.

“Arewetrespassing?”ThatwasAmanda,lookingalittlemoresoberandalotlesshappythanshehadjustafewminutesago.
GwynthrewadirtylookatWells.

“No,”shesaid,makingherselfsmile,theperfecthostessagain.“No,wehavetheowner’spermissiontobehere,thisisjust
a…afamilymix-up.Youknowhowthatgoes.Llewellynhereisleaving,aren’tyou?”

“Iamnot,actually,giventhatthisismyhouse.”
Okay,thiswasgettingridiculous.Thehappy,sillymoodofthebachelorettepartywasquicklydissipating,thewomenmutteringtoeachotherandlookingbetweenGwynandWells,andshewasprettysureshecouldforgetaboutanyfuturebachelorettepartiesifshedidn’tnipthisinthebudrightnow.

“Let’schatintheotherroom!”shesaidwithforcedbrightnessandthen,wrappingherhandaroundWells’sarm,practically
draggedhimout.

Thatwasn’teasytodo,either,giventhathewassurprisinglysolid,butGwynwasdetermined,anunstoppableforcethathad
nevergivenwaytoanimmovableobject.

“Look,”shesaidinalowvoiceoncetheywereinthelivingroom,atrulyhorrifyingchandelierofantlersoverhead.“Ifyoudon’t
wantusbeinghere,takeitupwithRhyslater.Butfornow,letmetalkalittleastrologywiththeseladies,maybeteach
themaboutmoonphases,andsendthemontheirhappyandwell-payingway,okay?”

Wellswasstaringdownhisnoseather,probablybecausethatwashisdefaultexpression,andnowhiseyesflickedpasther,
backtowardtheparty.“Isthissomethingyoudooften?”heasked.“Throw…thesekindsofparties?”

Hesaidthatlikehe’dcaughtherrunningsomekindofbrothel/casinooutofhisfamilydiningroom,andGwyngrittedher
teeth.

“Trustme,therewon’tbeanymoreifyoudon’tfindsomewhereelseinthiseldritchhorroryoucallahousetohangoutwhile
Ifinishuphere.”

Nowitwashisturntoclenchhisjaw.“Myfatherbuiltthishouse.EverythinginitwaseithercreatedwithhismagicorbroughtfromourhomeinWales.”
“Ifeellikeyouthinkthat’saflex?Itisdefinitelynotaflex.”
Atrioofgroovesdeepenedonhisforehead,andthenhepinchedthebridgeofhisnose,closinghiseyesandtakingadeep
breath.

“IwaspreparedforRhys,”hemutteredtohimself.“Howisthisactuallyworse?”
Then,liftinghishead,hefixedherwithasteelygaze.“Fine,”hesaid.“Finishyourparty,andI’llstayoutofyourway.
Butletthisbethelastonethrowninthishouse.”

Withthat,heturnedaway,headingforthestairs,andGwyncouldn’thelpbutcallout,“Imean,therewon’tbeanotherone
whileyou’revisiting,butonceyou’rebackinWales,allbetsareoff!”

Pausing,Wellsturnedbacktoher.Inthedimlight,sherealizedhelookedalmostexactlyliketheportraitonthewallbehind
him.Takeawaythepowderedwig,tradethebreechesforapairofdarkjeans,anditcouldbasicallybethesameman.

“I’mnotvisiting,Ms.Jones,”hesaid,andGwyndoubtedhisaristocraticancestortherebehindhimcould’vesoundedfrostier
orthatanythinginthishousewasscarierthanthatpronouncement.

“I’mstayinginGravesGlen.Forgood.”Chapter6
“SoIcanonlyassumeyou’vecomeheretoruinmylife.”
ItwaslaterinthemorningthanWellsnormallywokeup,theeffectsofmagicaltravelnotasroughasjetlagbutstillnoticeable,
andhehadjustpouredhimselfaveryneededmugoftea,whichhewasnowquitegratefulfor.

Takingafortifyingsip,heturnedtofaceRhys.
Hisyoungestbrotherstoodinthedoorwaybetweenthekitchenandthelivingroom,handsinthepocketsofaverynicecoat,
hiscustomaryhalfgrinonhisfacebuthiseyeswary.

IthadbeenalmostayearsinceWellshadlastseenRhys,andtherewerechangesthere,butsubtleones.Heseemedalittle
morecomfortableinhisskin,alittlesteadier.NodoubttheworkofVivienneJones,andWellswasgratefulforthateven
ifitwasslightlysurrealthatRhysmightnowbethemostsettledofallofthem.

Bracingonehandonthecounterbehindhim,Wellsliftedthemuganddrankagainbeforeanswering.“LifeRuinationofYoungestBrotherisontheagenda,yes,butit’satleasttenstepsdown.Youhavetimetoprepareaccordingly.”

Rhyssnortedatthat,movingmorefullyintothekitchenandleaningagainsttherefrigerator.“WasstepnumberoneAnnoy
theLivingPissoutofGwynJones?Becauseyoucandefinitelytickthatoneoff,mate.”

Wellsfrowned,glancingbacktowardthediningroom.
Thathadbeen…unexpected.Shehadbeenunexpected.HeknewaboutGwynvaguelyfromRhys,buthe’dbeenunpreparedforatornadodisguisedasabeautiful
woman,especiallywhenhisheadwasstillmuddledfromtravel.

Therewasnotraceofherorherpartyinthehousenow.She’dcleanedupwellbeforeshe’dleftlastnight,buthehada
feelinghe’dstillbefindingstraybitsofglitterandlavenderintherugsforquitesometime.“No,thatwasanunfortunate
sideeffectoftheactualstepone,whichwasComeIntoMyFamily’sFuckingHouseandNotFindItFilledWithStrangers.”

Rhysliftedoneshoulder.“Funnythingis,ifyou’dmademaybeapre-stepthatinvolved,oh,Idon’tknow,givingmeanysortofbloodyheads-upthatyouwerecomingtotown,allofthiscould
havebeenavoided.Youcould’vecomeincompletelyunbotheredandlitacandletoDa’spictureorwhateveritisyoudowhen
youarriveinanewplace,andIwouldnothavehadmydelightfulwifewokenupbyaphonecallthatseemedtoinvolvethewords‘high-handed’and‘complete
asshole.’”

HethrewWellsawink.“That’showIknewshewastalkingaboutyou.”
Wellswasthirty-fouryearsold,soitwasprobablybadformtowonderiftherewasanythinghandyhecouldthrowathisbrother,butoldhabitsdiedhard.Hesettledforflippinghimatwo-fingeredsalutewithhisfreehand,andRhyssmirkedbeforepushinghimselfoffthefridgetostandinfrontofWells,hisarmsfolded.
“Seriously,Wells,”hesaid,andwhileRhyswasveryrarelyanythingremotelyresemblingserious,Wellshadtoadmithelooked
itnow.“GwyntoldViviyousaidyouwerestayingforgood.Why?”

“Thepubwasdying,andtheredidn’tseemmuchpointinrunningitanymore.Iwanted…Idon’tknow,achangeofscenery,
Isuppose.Madesensetocomebackhere.”

Itwasn’talieevenifitwasn’tthefulltruthofit,andforalongbeat,Rhysjustwatchedhim.
Wellswasalarmedtorealizehehadnoideawhathisbrotherwasthinking.HewasusedtoRhys’squipsandcomebacks,his
jokesanddeflections,butclearlythelastyearhadchangedhimifhewasactuallyweighingwhathewantedtosay.

Andthenwhathesaidwas,“Youutterbastard.”
Wellsblinked.“Begpardon?”
“Dasentyouhere,”Rhyssaidnow,pointing.“Becausehecouldn’tstanditthatwenolongerrunthistown.Sonowhehas
tomakesurehehasafootholdhere,andGoddessknowsitcan’tbeme.Sohesendsyou,thefavorite,tosavetheday.”

ItstungalittleevenasWellshadtoadmittohimselfthathecouldseewhyRhyswouldjumptothatconclusion.Hewasthe
loyalone,afterall.Theobedientone.

“Actually,itwasmyidea,”hetoldRhysnow,keepinghisvoicecalmashetookanothersipoftea.
Rhystiltedhishead,hislipspressedtogether.“Youridea,”herepeated.“ToleaveWalesandcomeliveinasmalltownin
Georgia.”

“Yes,”Wellssaid,settingthemugbackonthecounter.“Believeitornot,Idooccasionallythinkformyself,andIwastiredofrunningapubnooneeverbotheredtocomeinto.Believeitornot,Ialsohappentobeafairlytalentedwitch,andperhapsIwantedtousethoseskills.PerhapsIwantedtodoalittlebitmoreinmylife.Perhaps—”

“Christ,areyougoingtostartsingingnow?”
Thistime,Wellsdidthrowsomethingathisbrother,butsinceitwasonlyateaspoon,itclatteredharmlesslyoffthefridge
asRhyslaughed,holdinghishandsup.

“Fairenough,”hesaid,andherewastheRhysWellsknew—slowtoanger,quicktodropit.“Butseriously,ifyou’regoing
tolivehere,canyoutrynottomakemynewfamilylongforyourheadonaplatter?IonlyjustgotGwyntostartcalling
mebymynameandnotaninsult.”

“Well,IwishthatI’dknownthatlastnight.Ms.JonesandIcould’vebondedovertheonethingweapparentlyhaveincommon.”
NotthatWellsactuallythoughtthatwould’veworked.Maybehehadbeen…well,notaprickbutnotathisbestlastnight.Butthenthatwomanhadseemedtoradiatedislikeforhimthesecondhe’dwalkedinthedoor,andhe’dfeltabitback-footedaboutthewholething.Strangewomeninhishouse,thecloyingsmelloflavenderandrosemarymixedwithvodkaandfruitjuice,thelittlepointyhats…ithadbeenquitealottotakein.
Areminderthatthiswasnothisfamily’stownanymore.
Butthatwouldchange,andsoon.GwynJonescouldhavehersillyHalloweenthings,herAmericanmallversionofwitchcraft.
Therewasaspaceforhimhere,too,andhewasgoingtocarveitout.

Rhysfrownednow,tiltinghisheadtooneside.“Ididnotrealizeyoualsohadathinkyface,Wells,”hesaid,andWells
scowled.

“Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”
Rhysshookhishead,wavingitoff.“Nevermind.SoItakeityou’replanningonlivinguphere?”
“Isthataproblem?”
“No,”Rhyssaid,thengavealittleshudder.“Isureasfuckdon’twantto,andifIaskedVivito,I’mprettysureshe’d
divorceme.TheHauntedMansionisallyours.”

Wellswantedtoobjecttothatdescription,buthehadtoadmitthehousewasabitmore…Gothicthanheremembered.
Eldritchhorror,Gwynhadcalleditlastnight,whichWellsthoughtwasoverlyharsh.

Still,hemightwanttodoabitofredecoratingifhewasgoingtomaketheplacehis.
“Good,”Wellssaid,thenturnedandplacedhismuginthesink.“Youlivedowntown,right?AboveGwyn’sshop?”
WhenRhysnodded,Wellssmiledandfoughttheurgetorubhishandstogether.“Excellent.Ineedarideinthatdirection.”
Halfanhourlater,hefoundhimselfonMainStreet,staringatthebuildinghehadseenthereinthepub.Itwasindeedempty
and,accordingtoasigninthewindow,availabletorent.

Itwasalittledownattheheel,theglassdirty,theawningsagging,buttherewaspotentialthere.Wellscouldseeit.
Andunlikemostbusinessowners,heliterallyhadtricksuphissleeves.

Therewereplentyofpeoplemillingabout,andtheskyoverheadwasabrightbluewithjustafewpuffycloudsdriftingslowly
across.Abreezeruffledthelittleorangeandblackflagsalreadyhungabovethestreet,andinthedistance,themountains
werejustbeginningtoshowhintsoforangeandredamongstallthegreen.
Wellsfelthisspiritsliftjuststandingthere.
Thiswasit.Wherehewassupposedtobe.
Onhislefthand,hisfather’sringsatheavily,andheabsentmindedlyrubbedthesilverbandwithhisthumbbeforereaching
intohispocketforhismobiletodialthenumberonthesign.

He’djustpunchedinthefirstnumberwhentherewasacacklefromacrossthestreet.
Turning,hewatchedaswhatappearedtobealargemechanicalwitch,itsheadmovingbackandforthinjerkymotions,emerged
fromthefrontdoorofSomethingWicked.

Itbumpedandslidoverthesidewalk,stillcackling,andWellsspottedthreepeople,oneofwhomhadviolentlyturquoisehair,attemptingtonavigateitintoplace.
Justbehindthem,herredhairblowinginthebreeze,wasGwyn.
Shewassofocusedondirectingtheotherthreewheretoputthewitchthatshedidn’tnoticehim,whichgavehimachance
tostudyher.

Lookingatherlikethis,withoutthefilmofirritation,magic-drunkenness,andexhaustionthathadbeencloudinghismind
lastnight,herealizedjusthowprettyshewas.Oh,he’dnoticeditlastnight,butinasortofdistantway,asimpleclassification,
really.Thisbeautifulwomandoesnotlikeme.
Now,though,shewassmiling,laughingastheturquoise-hairedgirllaunchedintoherownimpressionofthewitch,robotic
movementsandall,andWellsfoundhimselfsmiling,too.

Which,ofcourse,wasthemomentGwynsawhim.
Thatsmiledroppedoffherfacealmostimmediatelyassheshadedhereyeswithonehand,clearlywonderingwhatthehellhe
wasdoinginfrontofthisbuilding.

Well,Wellsthought,turningawayandcontinuingtodial,she’llsoonfindout.Chapter7
LlewellynPenhallow,Esquire,wasuptosomething.
Ithadbeennearlyaweeksincehe’darrivedintown,andwhileGwynhadn’tspokentohim,she’dseenhimseveraltimes,coming
inandoutofthebuildingacrossthestreetfromSomethingWicked.Sometimeshewascarryingboxes,andonce,shewaspretty
sureshe’dcaughtaglimpseofhimdragginginasuitofarmorjustbeforethefrontdoorclosed,butthewindowswerecovered
withpaper,andtherewasnooutsidesignofwhatmightbegoingoninside.

Rhyssworehehadnoideawhathisbrotherwasupto.“He’sbeingsecretiveaboutit,”he’dtoldGwynjusttheothernight
whenshe’dstoppedbyRhysandVivi’sfordinner.“Probablybuildingsomesortofmuseumtoourdeadancestorsorsomething.
Iwouldn’tworryaboutit.”

AndGwynwasnotworried.

Shewasjust…curious.
Afterall,Wellswasalreadyherneighbor.She’dpassedhimontheroadupthemountainjusttheotherday,herinherredtruck,lovinglyrestoredovertheyears,himinacompletelyridiculousnewBMWhe’dapparentlypurchased.
Goodluckwiththatthiswinter,she’dthoughtasshe’dgivenhimthebarestofwavesandhe’dgrimacedatherfrombehindthewheel,almostlikeheknew
whatshewasthinking.

Butifhehadrentedthespaceacrossthestreet,thatmeanttheywouldalsobeworkneighbors,andthatwas,frankly,waymoreneighborlythanshewantedtobewithWells.

And!Asoneoftheheadwitchesofthistown,wasn’titimportantthatshehaveagoodsenseofwhatotherwitchesweredoing
onherturf?Wasn’tthat,touseVivi’sfavoriteword,herresponsibility?

Now,GwynknewshecouldusemagictofigureoutexactlywhatWellswasdoing,butthethingis,awitchhadtohavestandards,andforGwyn,usingmagictospyonsomeonewasalittleonthesketchysideofthings.

Whichmeantthatshewasjustgoingtohavetowait,andgiventhatshehatedwaiting,Gwynhadbeeninacrankymoodallweek.AndhavingtostopbyPenhavenCollegeonaSaturday?

Well,thatincreasedTheCranktotrulynuclearlevels.
“Thisreallyfeelslikeathingyoucould’vedoneonyourown,”shetoldVivinowasthetwoofthemwalkedtowardthelibrary.
Itwasasunnyday,theskyclearblue,andtheleaveswerejustbeginningtoturn.HadGwynnotbeenbasicallyallergicto
Penhaven,shemight’veadmittedthatitwas…kindofpretty.Idyllic,even,alltheredbrickandgreengrass.

“Ineedyourhelp,”Viviinsisted.“I’llenduppickingsomethingtooacademicortoodry.You’llunderstandwhatkindsofstoriesvisitorsmightactuallybeinterestedin.”
ThetwoofthemwereonamissionfortheGravesGlenTourismBoard.Whenyourtown’smainindustryisHalloween,youmilk
itforallit’sworth,andthatmeanttherewerethreeofficialeventsduringOctober,startingwithwhathadoncebeenFounder’s
Day.

ThathadbeenacelebrationallaboutGryffudPenhallow,themanwho’dfoundedthetownand—notthatthenon-witchyresidents
ofGravesGlenknewthis—setupthemagicalleylinesthatgaveGravesGlenitspower.Butlastyear,ViviandRhyshaddiscovered
thatGryffudhadactuallystolenmagicfromViviandGwyn’sancestor,AelwydJones,killingherintheprocess.Needlessto
say,noneofthemwerebigfansofGryffudafterthat,soViviandRhyshadmanagedtotalkthetown’smayorintosomething
a“littlelesspatriarchal.”

ThisyearwouldmarkthefirstannualGravesGlenGathering.Thatwasonthethirteenth,anditwasallaboutthetown’shistory
(andsellingstufftotourists).Thenaweekafterthat,therewasFallFestival,whichwasmoreofacarnivalthingwith
costumesandfood(andsellingstufftotourists).

Andthenofcourse,justelevendaysafterthat,itwasHalloweenproper,whichwashauntedhousesandcornmazesandcandy(andsellingthemoststufftotourists).

They’dalwaysspentOctoberbusy,butthisyear,sheandViviwereactuallyontheplanningcommitteeheadedupbythemayor,JaneEllis.JanewasalsoGwyn’sex,butsincetheirbreakuphadn’tbeenallthatbad,GwynhadletVivitalkherintojoiningthecommittee,too.Gwynhadthoughtthatwouldmeantheoccasionaleveningmeeting,though,notdiggingthroughadustylibraryonaSaturday.
“Youdon’tevenhavetofindareal,officialstoryaboutthetown,”GwynremindedVivi.“Youcanliterallymakesomething
up.‘OneinterestingfactaboutGravesGlenisthatitwasbrieflytakenoverbybatsin1976.’‘GravesGlenistheworld’s
leadingproducerofgrapegumdrops.’‘EveryMarch,citizensofGravesGlenfighteachotherintheHungerGames.’”

Vivilaughed,swattingatGwyn’sarm.“No.JanespecificallyaskedmetofindsomeinterestingrealfactsinthePenhavenarchiveswecansharenowthatwe’renottalkingaboutGryffudanymore.AndI’mhopingtofindsome
greatoldpicturesofthecollegebackwhenitwasfirstfounded.ThisisthefirstGravesGlenGathering,sowewanttogo
allin.”

Sighing,Gwyntossedherhairbackoverhershoulders.“Andyoufeelguiltyyouwon’tevenbehereforTripleG,soyou’re
goingextrahard.”

“YouknowJanereallywantseveryonetostopcallingitthat,butyes.”
Grinning,GwynbumpedVivi’sshoulderwithherown.“Fine.Butoncewe’redonehere,you’rebuyingmelunch.”
“Deal.”
TheyhadnearlyreachedthestepsofthelibrarywhenGwynsawaflashofturquoiseoutofthecornerofhereye.
Samwascomingaroundthesideofthelibrary,CaitandParkerinherwake,andGwynnoticedthethreeofthemwerepracticallychasingafterDr.Arbuthnot.
“What’sshedoinghereonaSaturday?”Gwynasked,andVivisighed,foldingherarmsoverherchest.
“Shepracticallylivesinheroffice.”
ThewomanneveragedasfarasGwyncouldtell,everybitasbeautifulandcommandingandterrifyingasshe’dbeenthirteen
yearsago,andasshewatched,Dr.Arbuthnotcametoastop,scarvesflutteringaroundherassheturnedtofacethethree
witches.

“Forthelasttime,”shesaid,hervoicecarryingtothelibrarysteps.“Theassignmentwasverystraightforward.Thethree
ofyouhaveundoubtedlychosentomakeitmoredifficultthanitneedstobe,whichiswhyyou’renowaskingformoretime.”

“We’renotmakingitmorecomplicated,”Samsaid,hervoiceslightlypleading.“Wejustwantittobe…sophisticated.”

“Evolved,”Parkeradded,andCaitnodded.
“Right,withjustalittlemoretime,wecangiveyousomethingreally—”

“Whatyouwillgiveme,”Dr.Arbuthnotinterrupted,“iswhatIaskedfor.OnMonday,nolater.”
Withthat,sheturnedandwalkedaway,sparingthebriefestglanceinGwynandVivi’sdirection.
“Vivienne,”shesaid,noddingatVivi,whowavedback.
“Gwynnevere.”
Gwynmighthavebeenimaginingit,butshewasprettysurethetemperaturedroppedatleasttendegreesasDr.Arbuthnotlookedather,butshemadeherselfgiveanodofacknowledgmentanyway.
Afewfeetaway,Sam,Cait,andParkerlookeddecidedlyglum,theirheadsclosetogetherastheymurmuredandwhispered,and
Vivigaveanothersigh
“They’retalented,”shesaid.“I’veworkedwiththemacoupleoftimesinmyofficeoverthepastfewweeks.ButDr.Arbuthnot
isright.Theymakeeverythingharderthanitneedstobesothattheycanshowoff.”

“Or,”Gwyncountered,“thespellsDr.Arbuthnotassignsareboringandtoobythebook,andtheywanttobealittlemore
creative.”

ShootingGwynawrylook,Viviquirkedaneyebrow.“Orrrr,”shedrawled,“someone’sprojectingalittlebit?”

Gwynscowledathercousin,butshedidn’targue.She’dspentallheryearsatPenhavenchafingagainsttherules,therequirements,
thewhole“wedoitthiswaybecausethisisthewaywedoit”styleofthinkingthatdrovehercrazy.Andyes,maybethat
meantshe’doccasionallyscrewedup,butatleastshe’dbeentrying.
Justlikethesekidsweretrying.
Ugh,shewasgoingtohavetoberesponsible,clearly.
“Ithinkyou’reonyourownwiththearchivesthisafternoon,”shetoldVivi,andthen,grumblingtoherself,Gwynmadeher
wayovertothethreewitches.

Allthreeofthemlookedupassheapproached,theirfaceshopeful,andokay,thatwaskindofadorable.Theyweregoodkids.Talentedwitcheswhojustneededalittleguidancefromtherightwitch,awitchwho’dscrewedupjustasoftenastheyhad,awitchwhogotthemandwhattheyweretryingtodo.
“So,”shesaid,placingherhandsonherhips.“What’sthespelly’allaresupposedtobedoing?”
Threehourslater,GwynhadanewfoundandgrudgingrespectforDr.Arbuthnot.
ThespellSam,Cait,andParkerhadbeenassignedwasindeedaprettystraightforwardandsimpleone.Itinvolvedcreating
abasicglamourthatwouldchangetheirappearances,butsubtly.Brownhairinsteadofblond,afewinchestaller,thatkind
ofthing.

Gwynagreedthatwasfairlyboring,andshe’dthoughttheiridea—combiningitwithabiggerjoltofmagicformuchbigger
results—wasagreatone.

Thatwasbeforeshe’dhadtofigureouthowtorightanosethathadbeenturnedupsidedown,howexactlyyougotridoffive
extraelbows,whythespellhadcreatedfiveextraelbowsinthefirstplace,andifherhairwasgoingtobegreenforever.

SmokewasstillhangingintheairasGwyntookadeepbreathandlookedatherselfinthemirrorhangingovertheliving
roomcouchinhercabin.

Herhairwasonceagainred,thanktheGoddess,andwhensheturnedbacktoParker,theironce-brownhairwasasandyblond,
buttheirnosewasverymuchinplace.

Likewise,Sam’selbowswerebackdowntohernormaltwo,herturquoisehairblack,hereyesslightlyrounder,nosethinner.
Caitwasfrowningatherfingernails,butthatwasonlybecauseshe’dbeentryingforredpolish,andhernailswerepurpleinstead.
“Okay,”Gwynsaidslowly,risingtoherfeet.“Thatwas…well,I’mnotgonnalie,thatwasawfulandtookatleastfive
yearsoffmylife,butIthinkwe’venaileditandgotteny’allreadyforMonday.Andwelearnedavaluablelessonaboutmagicwefindontheinternet,
haven’twe?”

Dustingherhandsoffonthebackofherjeans,Gwynlookedaroundthelivingroom.Thatscorchmarkontherugwasunfortunate,
andSirPurrcivalwasprobablynevercomingbackdownstairs,butatleastthefirehadbeenfairlycontained?

Wasthatsomethingtobeproudof?
“Whencanyouhelpusagain?”Samasked,gettingtoherfeetasnexttoherParkerandCaitstoodaswell,andGwynlaughed,
shakingherhead.

“Honestly,BabyWitches,y’allareprobablybetterofflisteningtoViviandDr.Arbuthnot.Ifeelliketheirhelpwilllead
togoodgradesandsafespellsandjust…farfewerelbows,really.”

Butallthreeofthemshooktheirheadsatthat.
“Noway,”Parkerinsisted.“Youactuallylistenedtous.Youletustrytodosomethingcool”

“Andthenwhenwefuckeditup,like,somuch,youhelpedusfixit!”Caitadded,bouncingontheballsofherfeet.“You’retotallyGlindatheGoodWitch,andwe
needyou.”

“Yes!”Samsaid,comingforwardtograbGwyn’sarmandgiveheralittleshake.“BeourGlinda!”
“Idon’tlookgoodinpink,andIhaven’ttraveledbybubbleinatleastsixmonths,”Gwynsaid,buttheyweregivingherthepuppydogeyesagain,andifGwynwashonest,evenwiththesmokeand
thefireandtheelbowsandallofit,ithadfeltgood,helpingthemout.Lettingthempracticemagicwithouttellingthem
itwastoomuchortooweirdortooadvanced.

Whichwasprobablywhysheheardherselfsaysomethingstupidlike“Okay,fine.Wecantryagainnextweek.”Chapter8
“IjustkeeppullingtheFiveofSwords.”
GwynwassittingatabackboothatTheCiderShack,anewrestaurantinGravesGlenthathadopenedlastsummer.Ithadquickly
becomeoneofherfavoritehauntsandhadseemedlikeasafespottotaketheBabyWitchesfortheirsecondmagiclesson.

Theywerealittledisappointed,shesuspected,nodoubthopingforsomethingalittlemoremysticalthanaplacethatserved
pumpkinchiliandsomethingcalledMacbethMash,butafterSaturday,Gwynhaddecidedtheymightneedtostartalittleslower
andwithmagicthatcouldsafelybedoneinpublic.

Henceatarotlesson.
Andifshe’dmadethefocusofthatlesson“Seeifyoucangetareadon,oh,Idon’tknow,whatWellsPenhallowisbuilding
acrossthestreet,”sobeit.

She’dswornshewouldn’tusemagictogettothebottomofWells’sproject,buthe’dbeenatitforoveraweeknow,andthe
curiositywasfinallygettingtobetoomuch.

Besides,usingsomeoneelse’smagicwasn’tallthatbad,right?

Now,GwynputdownherBroomstickBurgerandtappedthecardinfrontofParker.
“Andwhatdoesthatmeantoyou?”
Parkersighed,tiltingtheirheadbackevenasCaitscootedclosertothemandsaid,“Youknowthisone.”Shelookedupat
Gwyn.“Theytotallyknowthisone,Glinda.”

“There’snorightorwronganswer,”GwynremindedParkernow.“It’sintuitionbased.”
Screwinguptheirface,Parkerthought.“Swordsareair.Airisthought,intellect.”
“Good,”Gwynsaid,nodding.“And?”
“Fivesareinthemiddleofthesuit,soconflict…”
Samstartedsinging“BadBlood,”makingCaitlaugh,andGwynrolledhereyesevenasshesmiledatthem.Theyreallywere
goodkids.Allthreeofthemhadbeenhelpingoutatthestoreasakindofexchangeforthesesortsoflessons,andGwyn
sawwhatVivimeantaboutthembeingtalentedwitches.

“Youkeepworkingonit,”Gwynsaid,wipingherhandsonhernapkin,“whileIgograbacider.”
SamscootedoutsothatGwyncouldleave,andasshewalkedtowardthebarintheback,shecouldalreadyhearthemarguing
overwhichcardwasworse,theTowerorDeath.

TheCiderShackwascrowdedforaWednesdaynight,andGwynsawseveralfamiliarfaces.Oneofherregularcustomersatthe
shop,Sally,wasatthebarwithherhusband,andtherewasElaine’sfriendNathan.

Overatatableinthecorner,GwynspottedJane.Shewastherewithherfiancée,Lorna,andsheandGwyndidthesamelittleawkwardwavetheydideverytimetheybumpedintoeachother.Which,giventhatGravesGlenwasn’taverybigtown,wasfairlyoften.
Thebreakuphadn’tbeenbad,andGwyngenuinelylikedLornaandwashappyforJane,butitwasareminderthatherromantic
lifehadbeenfairlydeadforalmostayearnow.

She’ddatedalittleafterJane,goneoutafewtimeswithDaniel,theguywhorantheCoffeeCauldron,andVivihadsether
upwithoneofherhistoryteacherfriends,Beth,butthathadn’treallygoneanywhere,either.

Honestly,sheblamedViviandRhys.Seeinghercousinthathappy,that..rightwithsomeonehadmadeherpickier.Shedidn’tjustwantsomeonetohaveacasualconversationandsomehotsexwith.She
wanted…well,shedidn’tknow.

Tocatchsomeone’seyeandknowwhattheywerethinking.Tobeinaroomfullofpeopleandknowthatthatpersonwasyours.Tonotjustenjoysomeone,butenjoythepersonshewaswiththem.

Gwynshookherheadslightly.
Yeah,allViviandRhys’sfault,makingherthismushyoutofnowhere.
Whatsheneededwassomeobnoxiouslynamedciderandtogetbacktoherstudents,soshemovedforwardandplacedanorder
forsomethingcalledTheWickedQueen’sPoisonedApple.

Gwynhadjustgottenherglasswhenshespottedafamiliarfiguremovingtowardher.
Wellswasholdingabottleofplainlagerratherthanoneofthebespokeciders,andinaseaofT-shirtsandjeans,themanwaswearingneatlypressedtrousers,abutton-down,and,Goddesshelpher,avest.
No,thiswasn’tavest,sheamendedashegotcloser.Thiswasawaistcoat.Surelythat’swhathecalledit.

Hedidn’tseemtoseeheruntilhewasalmostontopofher,hismindclearlyamillionmilesaway,andwhenhedid,hevisibly
startled.

“Ms.Jones.”
“LlewellynPenhallow,Esquire,”shereplied,andhislipsdrewtogetherinathinline.
See,thatwasthething.Hewastooeasytotease,anditwastoofuntostop.
“WhatbringsyoutoTheCiderShack?”sheaskedhim.“Youseemmorelikea…Idon’tknow,aChampagneChateaukindof
guy.”

Gwynthoughthemighthaveconsideredsmilingatthat,butifhehad,theimpulsewasgoneprettyquickly.“Youcertainly
havealotofopinionsaboutmegiventhatweonlymettwoweeksago,andyou’vespentmaybefiveminutesinmycompany.”

Smirking,Gwynfoldedherarmsoverherchest.“Wedidn’tmeettwoweeksago,”shesaid,andhefrownedather,confused.
“What?No,I’mcertainwenevermetbefore.Iwouldhave…”
Hiseyesmovedoverherfacebriefly,andGwynfeltasuddenprickleofawareness,aslightbitofheatslidingupherspine.
Okay,no,shetoldhertreacherousbody.IknowIwasjustthinkingabouthowI’veneglectedyoulately,butpleasegetagrip.
Hewashandsome,shecouldadmitthat.Andhehadveryniceeyes,andshe’dalwayslikedamanwithabeard,buthewasstill
LlewellynPenhallow,totalsnobandNon-AttenderofWeddings.

Nowhetookasipofhisbeerandshookhishead.“Ifyousaywe’vemetbefore,maybewehave,butIcertainlydon’tremember
it.”

“Maybeyou’llfigureitout,”shesuggestedwithaone-shoulderedshrug,andthereitwasagain,thosepressedlips,those
hardeyes,thatbarelyperceptiblestiffeningofhisspine.

“Indeed.Nicetohaveseenyouagain,”hesaid,eventhoughitwasveryclearithadbeenanythingbut.“Now,ifyou’llexcuse
me,Ionlypoppedinforaquickdrink.Istillhaveworktodotonight.”

“Oh,right,”Gwynsaid,casualaspossibleashemovedpasther.“IthoughtIsawyouinthatdingybuildingacrossthestreet.
Whatareyouworkingon?”

Shethoughtshe’dbeensubtle,butthen,Gwynhadneverbeengreatatsubtle,anditwasveryclearfromthesmugsmilespreadingacrossWells’sfacenowthatshe’dfailedonthatscoreyet
again.

“Maybeyou’llfigureitout,”hesaid,andifGwynhadn’tbeensoinfuriated,shemighthavebeenalittleimpressed.
Thenheturnedandlookedacrosstherestaurant,frowning.“Arethoseyouremployees?Irecognizetheonewiththebluehair.”
“Notemployees,mentees,”shecorrectedhim.“NowthattheJonesfamilymagicrunsthistown,we’vestartedworkingwithsomeoftheyoungerwitches,teachingspellcraft,guidingtheirpractices.
Iassumeyouthinkit’sallsillinessandplasticwitchhats,butbelieveitornot,weareactuallydoingseriousthings
withmagichere.”

“Hmm.Well,rightnow,they’reseriouslyputtingtarotcardsontheirforeheads,”hesaid,andGwynwhippedaround.
Yes,CaitwaslickingthebackofatarotcardandstickingittoherheadasParkerandSamtriedtoguesswhichoneitwas.
Great.
“That’sactuallyanewtechniqueforreadingsthatthey’retryingout,”shereplied,holdingherheadhigh.“Iguessithasn’t
reachedWalesyet.”

“Hmm,”hesaidagain,andthen,asheturnedaway,shecaughtthebaresthintofthatsmile.
“Goodnight,Ms.Jones.”
Gwyndidn’tbotherwithapartingshot,makingherwaybacktothetableandpluckingtheEmpressoffCait’sforehead.
“Seriously?”sheaskedthegroup,andCaitgaveanunapologeticshrug.
“Youweretakingforeverandwegotbored.”Twistinginthebooth,shelookedafterWells.
“Ihaven’tseenhimupclosebefore.He’shot.”
“He’snot,”GwynliedevenasParkermurmured,“Superhot,”andSamsaid,“Imean,thatfamilyhasgoodgenes,itmustbesaid.”
“Hishotness,”Gwynremindedthethree,“isneitherherenorthere.Whatyouweresupposedtobedoingwasfiguringoutwhat
he’sdoing.”

Shelookedatthecardsstillspreadoutonthetable.TheFiveofSwordswasstillthere.SowastheSixofSwords.Nosurprise,
sincethatcardusuallymeantsomekindofsneakinesswasafoot.

AthirdcardwasslightlycoveredbyParker’snapkin,andGwynpushedthepieceofpaperoutoftheway.
TheLoversstaredbackather.
“Ipulledthatone,like,ninetimesinarow,”Parkersaid,noddingatit.“Weevenreshuffledthedeckbetweenpulls,and
still,everytime!”

Gwynpickedupthecardalongwiththeothers,shovingthembackintothedeckquickly,tryingveryhardnottothinkabout
thatweirdmomentearlierwhenWellshadlookedather—reallylookedather—andshe’dfelt…whateverthatwas.

“Clearlythislessonwasabust,”shetoldthewitchesnow.“SoIguesswe’lljusthavetowaitandfindoutwhathe’sup
toovertheretheold-fashionedway.”

Shewouldn’thavetowaitlong.Chapter9
Gwyngottothestoreearlythenextmorning.Shewasexpectinganewshipmentofteas,andshewantedtogetitallunpacked
assoonasitcamein,mostlysoshecoulddecidewhichonesshewantedtotakehometosample.Infact,herheadwassofull
ofTeaThoughtsthatatfirst,shedidn’tnoticeit.

Itwasn’tuntilshehadunlockedthedoorofSomethingWickedandaglintflashedinherperipheralvisionthatsheturned
aroundandsawit.

Andwhenshedid,shestillwasn’tquitesureshebelievedwhatshewasseeing.
Infact,evenwhenshe’dcrossedthestreetandwasstandinginfrontofthebuilding,lookingupatit,itdidn’tseemreal.
Yesterday,thestorefrontacrossfromSomethingWickedhadbeencompletelyempty,thewindowcoveredwithbrownpaper,the
deepbluepaintaroundthedoorpeeling.

Today,thepaintwasfreshandcrisp,agreensodarkitwasnearlyblack,andthewindowshowcasedadisplayofcrystals
andamuletsonrichvelvetinthesameshade.

Overthedoor,therewasatastefulwoodensignfeaturingaravenwearingacrown,andpaintedindiscreetcursive,threewords.
Penhallow’sMagicalGoods
“Oh,Ithinkthefucknot,”Gwynmutteredunderherbreathandyankedopenthedoor.
Therewasnocawingsoundhere,justthelightringingofabrassbell,andwhenGwynsteppedintotheshop—becausethat’s
clearlywhatitwas,WellsPenhallowhadsetupashoprightacrossfromhershop—shewaswelcomedwithawaveofsage,bay,andoldleather.

Dimlightsencasedinstainedglassshadescastawarmglowovereverything,andeventhoughithadbeenbrightandsunny
onthesidewalk,Gwynsuddenlyfeltlikeifsheweretoopenthedoorrightnow,she’dseeagrayandblusteryday.Thatwas
theimmediatefeel,likeyou’djuststeppedintothecoziestspotintheentireworld,andweren’tyouluckytobesafeand
warminside?

Shestoodthereforamoment,tryingtogetherbearings.
Itwasaspell.Ithadtobeaspell,makingwhoevercameintotheshopsuddenlygratefultobeinthere,wantingtolose
themselvesamongtheshelvesofbooksandknickknacks,sinkintooneoftheleatherarmchairsnearthe…fireplace?

Thatbastardliterallyhadacracklingfire
“WelcometoPenhallow’s,howmayI—oh.”
Gwynturnedtoseethebastardinquestion,hishandsomefacealreadygoingfromCharmingShopkeepertoGrumpyWitch.Itwasreallyunfairthatbothweregoodlooksonhim,butthat,Gwynfigured,wasboththeblessingandthecurseofreallygoodbonestructure.
Helookedlessintimidatingtoday,too,thatstuffywaistcoattradedforasoft-lookinggraysweater,hisjeanstheperfect
amountofbrokenin,andifhishairwasn’tquiteasfloppyasRhys’s,itwasstillswoopingnicelyoverthoseblueeyes.

Notthatshewasnoticinganyofthat.
“Whatisthis?”sheaskedhimnow,andheleanedagainstthecounter,linkinghisfingerswithasigh.
“IstheresomenewAmericanwordI’munfamiliarwiththatmeans‘ashop’?BecauseIwasfairlycertainthatparticularterm
meantthesamethinginbothourhomelands.”

Hisbrotherwouldhavedeliveredthatlinewithaknowingsortofgrin,butWellsjustlookedatherlikehewasalreadybored
withthisentireconversation,andgiventhatGwynknewgoodanddamnwellthatshewastheleastboringpersonintheworld,thatwasparticularlyirritating.

Whichhadprobablybeenhisintent.
“Oh,Igetthewhole‘it’sashop’thing.Theissueis,it’sashoprightacrossthestreetfrommyshop,andit’sclearlysellingthesamekindofthing.”

Wells’seyebrowsshotupatthat,andhemadeashowoflookingaround.“Isit?DidIpurchasesomeplasticpumpkinssomewhere
andforgetaboutit?”

Gwynrolledhereyes,stalkingclosertothecounter,theheelsofherbootsrappingsharplyonthehardwoodfloors.“YouknowwhatImean.Thisisawitchyshop.Irunawitchyshop.Youaresteppingonmyturf.”
“Isthiswherewebeginsnappingourfingersandlaunchintoadancebattle?”
Dammit,that’sactuallykindofagoodjoke.
ButGwynrefusedtogivehimthesatisfactionofeventheteeniesthintofasmile,placingherhandsonherhipsandlifting
herchin.“I’mjustsaying,it’skindofadickmovetocomeintotownandimmediatelybecomethecompetition.”

Especiallywhenshewasbarelygettingbyasitwasthesedays.Notthatshewasgoingtotellhimthat.ButSomethingWicked’s
booksweredefinitelytrendingalittlemoreredthanblack,andaplacelikethis—cozy,posh,vaguelymysterious—wasnot
goingtohelpmatters.

Straighteningup,Wellscrossedhisarmsoverhischest.“Ithinkthistowncanhandlehavingmorethanone‘witchy’shop,
Ms.Jones.Especiallygiventhatwe’regoingtobesellingverydifferentitemstoverydifferentcustomers.”

“Therearenodifferentcustomers,”Gwynargued.“Trustme.Wegettouristsandtheoccasionallocallookingforfancybath
salts.That’sit.”

“Bathsalts,yousay?”Wellscockedaneyebrow,thenpattedathispockets.“Ishouldwritethatdown.”
Gwynhadneverthoughtofherselfasaviolentwoman,butmaybe,justmaaaaybe,thismanneededagoodcrackupsidetheheadwithoneoftheveryfancyleathergrimoiresonthecounterbehindhim.
“Also,”sheadded,pointingonegreen-tippedfingerathim,“Idon’tsellactualmagicshitinmystorebecauseit’sdangerous.
NoonecomingforHalloweenneedstoaccidentallypickupa…aTravelingStoneoragrimoirethatactuallyworks.That’s
howyouendupwithzombies,Esquire.Youwantzombies?”

Hisbrowwrinkled,thecornersofhismouthturningdown.“Firstoff,donotcallmethat,andsecondly,nothinginhereis
actualmagic,either.I’mnotacompleteidiot,youknow.”

Gwynlookedaroundher.Thebooksliningtheshelvesnearthedoorcertainlylookedold,butwhensheputoutsomemental
feelers,shedidn’tgetanysenseofpowercomingoffthem.Likewisethejewelryinthefrontwindowandthewandslyingin
woodenboxesbehindglassatthefrontcounter.

“Justbecausethesethingsaren’tmadeofplasticdoesn’tmeanthey’rerealartifacts,”hetoldher,movingbackbehindthe
countertotheold-fashionedblackregister.“I’msimplyprovidingaslightlymore…upscaleexperience.”

“Iwillupscaleyourexperience,”Gwynfiredback,beforefrowning.“Okay,thatdidn’tmakeanysense,andwhileIslightly
regretthewords,Idonotregrettheemotionbehindthem.Youcouldhaveopened…Idon’tknow.Atweedstore.Someshopwheretheyonlyselloverpriced
pocketwatches.CravatsRUs.Hell,didn’tyourunapubbackinWales?Youcouldhavedonethat!Butno,youopenedthis,andyoudiditonpurposetobeanasshole.”

“Hasiteveroccurredtoyouthatnoteverythingonedoesisindirectrelationtoyou,Ms.Jones?”
WhenGwyndidn’tbothertoreplytothat,Wellsrolledhiseyes,liftingoneeleganthand.“One,”hesaid,tickingitoff
onhisindexfinger,“Idonotactuallyownanytweed.Orapocketwatchforthatmatter.Two,Ihavewornacravatexactly
onetimeinmylife,andbelievemewhenIsaythatisanexperiencene’ertoberepeated.Andthree,yes,Ididrunapubanddidnotactuallyenjoyitverymuch.”

“Wasitbecauseyouhadtotalktopeopleandthereforepretendtobeapersonyourselfratherthananandroidwhorunson
teaanddisdain?”

Hescowled,whichGwyntookasawin.
“Inanycase,”Wellscontinued,“I’mrunningthisshopbecauseIthinkit’ssomethingthistownneeds.Regardlessofwhat
it’sturnedinto,GravesGlenstartedoutasahavenforwitchesandmagicusers,anditmightbenicetopreservesomeof
thathistoryratherthancoveritallincaramelandcinnamonandcartoondrawingsofblackcats.”

Gwynhootedwithlaughteratthat,slappingthecounterhardenoughtorattleaglassjarfilledwithblackquills.“Okay.
Sothisisaboutsnobbery.Gotit.”

“It’sabouttradition,”hecountered,andsheturnedaway,givinghimalittlewaveoveroneshoulder.
“Keeptellingyourselfthat,Esquire.Andletmeknowhowmanypeoplewanttospend…”Shepausedbythedoor,checkingthepriceonthebackofoneofthegrimoires.“AhundredbucksonsomethingtheycangetatSomethingWickedfortwenty.”
Shetossedthegrimoirebackontothetable,alreadyfeelingalittle…allright,maybeitwasn’tnicetosaysmug,butdefinitelyalittlebetter.Thisstorewasbeautiful,yes,anditwasfancyandsortofspooky,andhewas
suretogetlotsofpeoplein,buttherewasnowayhewasgoingtomakethatmanysales.Notforthiskindofthing.

GlancingbackoverhershoulderatWells,Gwynwasalreadysmiling.
Butthen…
Hewas,too.
“We’llsee,Ms.Jones,”hereplied,andthatsmilewidenedjustasGwyn’sslippedoffherface.“We’llsee.”Chapter10
Wellswasn’tsuretherehadeverbeenanythinghe’dlovedmorethanthesoundofthebellringingoverthedoorofhisshop.
Andoverthenextfewdays,hegottohearhisfavoritesoundmany,manytimes
Hewasn’tsureifitwastheambienceoftheplacebringingpeoplein—bringingthemback—orifitwasOctoberapproaching,butwhateverthecase,Penhallow’sMagicalGoodstookoffrightoutofthegate.

ItwastheprofessorsfromPenhavenwhostartedcomingbyfirst,nodoubtcuriousaboutthenewestPenhallowintown.Then,
ontheweekend,touristsdroppedin,ooh-ingandaah-ingoverthefireplace,theleatherchairs,theWelshlandscapepaintings
hangingonthewalls.Buttheyweren’tjustadmiring;theywerebuying.

Wellshadalreadyhadtoorderanewshipmentofleathergrimoires,andhewasnearlyoutofcrystalorbs.Candles,too,he’d
realized,werepopular,aswastea.

Learningthat,Wellsstartedbrewinghisownpotsintheshop,offeringthemfreeofcharge,happytobringthemovertoanyonesittingnearthefireastheychatted.Themorerelaxedpeoplewere,themoretheyfeltalittlepampered,themorelikelytheyweretostaylonger,andthatmeantsomethingusuallycaughttheireyetopurchase.
Itwas,Wellsquicklyrealized,muchlikewhathe’dhopedrunningapubwouldbelike.Friendlysmilesthrownhisway,heartyhandshakesonthewayout.

Anddammitall,hewasgoodatit.

Heknewhewasbecauseafterthefirstweek,Gwynhadappearedinhisshopagain,glaringathim.“Areyouservingteain
here?”she’dasked.“Andnotchargingforit?”

She’dbeenwearinghotpinkthatday,aspinkasthestripeofcolorshe’daddedtoherredhair,andWellshadspententirely
toomuchtimethinkingaboutthatpinkstripelater,wonderingwhyhehadtheurgetotwirlitaroundonefinger.

Atthetime,however,he’dsimplysaid,“IrealizeAmericansarenaturallysuspiciousofteafromusBrits,butIwasn’taware
thatservingitforfreewasanissue?”

She’dmutteredsomethingdireatthatbeforestormingoutagain,andWellshaddecidedtoordersomemoreteapots.
NowitwasaSaturday,whichmeantthathisshopwaspleasantlyfull,peoplechattingandbrowsing,andhewasfeelingmore
thanalittlesmugwhenthebellrangoverthedooryetagain.

HeputonhismostgracioussmileasheturnedaroundonlytoseethatitwasoneofthoseyoungpeoplewhohungaroundGwyn’sshop.Oneofher“mentees,”hesupposed,thegirlwhoalwaysworeherhairinadarkbraid.
Today,shewaswearingawhiteT-shirtwithablackcatdrawnonitandthewords“StayWicked,Witches!”curlingbeneath.
Whensheturned,hesawSOMETHINGWICKED,GRAVESGLEN,GAemblazonedontheback.

Clever.Ratherobvious,butnotabadsouveniritem.
Thegirlmadeashowofbrowsing,andWellsfoldedhisarms,rockingbackslightlyonhisheelsashewatchedherdriftthrough
thestore,pickingupadeckoftarotcards,givingitaboredlook,andputtingitback.

Shethenmoseyedovertothegrimoiresandliterallyyawned,pattingheropenmouthwithherhand.
Wellsquirkedaneyebrow.
He’dexpectedafight,butifthiswasthebestGwyncoulddo,hewashonestlyalittledisappointed.
Thedooropenedagain,andnowherecognizedanotherofthecollegestudents,theonewithbrowncurlyhairandanosering
thatglintedinthedimlightsofPenhallow’s.

“Findanything?”heheardonesay,overlyloud,andthegirlgaveanexaggeratedsigh.
“No,everythinginherejustseems…”
ShefixedWellswithalook.“Boring.”
Healmostsmiled,hereallydid.
Andthentheotherpersonsaid,“Imean,wesawaTALKINGCATatSOMETHINGWICKED.Everythingwouldseemboringafterthat!”
Thewordsboomedthroughthestore,andthistime,Wellscouldn’tholdbackasnortofdisdain.
Honestly.
SoallGwynhadwereteenagerstocomeintohisstore,pretendtobebored,andthenannounceanobviouslie.Asthoughhis
customerswouldbesoeasily—

“Wait,seriously?”
Wellsturned.
Ayoungwitchwasmovingtowardthepair,awomanWellshadbeguntothinkofasoneofhisregulars.Shewasagraduatestudent
atPenhavenandcameinnearlyeveryafternoonforteaandchatand,moreoftenthannot,topickupanewcrystal.Wells
hadevensoldheroneoftheteapotswhenshe’dasked.

NowshewasstandingwithGwyn’s…minionsandlookingatsomethingononeoftheirphones.Givingastartledlaugh,sheglancedoutthedoorandacrossthestreet
towardSomethingWicked.

“Okay,thisIneedtosee.”
Thebellrangagain,butthistime,Wellsreally,reallydidnotenjoythatsound.

Orthemanytimeshehearditafterwardas,slowly,everyoneinPenhallow’sbegantogetupandmovefirsttowardthepair
atthedoorandthatblastedphoneandthen,inevitably,acrossthestreet.

Untilatlast,itwasonlythethreeofthemleftinthestore,twolookingverysmug.
“Shecan’tpossiblyhaveatalkingcat,”Wellssaid.“That’snotaspellapersoncando.”
Althoughevenashesaidit,Wellswasn’tsurethatwasactuallythecase.Itwassimplyaspellhe’dneverseenanyonedo.ButafterthatlectureGwynhadgivenhimaboutNoRealMagicforthetourists,surelyshewouldn’tbreakthat
ruleforherself.

Wouldyou?Ifyouthoughtshewaswinning?
ThenextthingWellsknew,hewasoutthedoorandstaringatacrowdgatheredoutsideSomethingWicked.Therewasliterally
alineoutthedoor,andhehadtomakehiswayaroundit,apologizingprofuselyuntilhewasinsideSomethingWickedand
lookingat…

Afuckingtalkingcat.
“HappyHalloWEEEEEEEN!”
ThereweregaspsandsighsandlaughsfromthecrowdasGwynJones,fullydeckedoutinwitchregalia,hatandall,cuddled
aratherchubbyblackcatwearinghisownlittlehatandaratherdashingorangebandanna.

Acatthatonceagainopeneditsmouthandcried,“HappyHalloWEEEEEEEEEN!”
ItthenturneditsheadtoGwynandasked,“Treats?”
Thecrowdlovedthat,too,andasGwynpetteditandwhisperedsomething,someonecalledout,“Howdidyoutrainittodo
that?”

Gwyngrinned,chuckingthecatunderthechin.“Awitchneverrevealsherspells!”shecalledout,andthen,winking,added,
“Orwhereshebuysridiculouslyexpensiveprops.”

Everyonelaughed,andWellslookedaroundhim,amazed.
Therewasnodoubtinhismindthecatwasreal,thatthemagicwasreal,butputsomethinglikethatinfrontofpeople,tellthemit’snot,andthey’dbelieveit.
Thealternativewastoobizarre.
Incasehewasn’tbegrudginglyimpressedenough,shethencalledout,“Everypurchaseincludesacomplimentarypictureor
videowithSirPurrcival!Besuretousethehashtag‘SomethingWicked’!”

Diabolical.
Absolutelyfiendish.
Andwhenhereyesbrieflymethis,hercheekdimplingwithaGofuckyourselfsmile,Wellsrealizedhehadneverbeenattractedtoanywomanmoreinhislife.

Well,thatwasbloodyinconvenient.Chapter11
“Exactlyhowmuchlongeristhiswarbetweenyouandmybrothergoingtogoon?”
GwynwassittingatthekitchentablewithRhysandVivi,havingtheirtraditionalweeklydinner.Sometimestheydiditat
theirplace,sometimesarestaurant,butmostly,itwasbackatthecabin,andtonightwasnoexception.

AndifGwynfeltalittleguiltythinkingaboutWellseatingaloneinthatbighousejustuptheroad,sheremindedherselfthatjustyesterday,she’d
foundouthe’dappliedforaliquorlicense,whichmeantthatsoonthatstupid,fancystoreofhiswouldstartservingdrinks,
probablyforfree,andshewasn’tsureevenSirPurrcivalcouldcompetewithfreebooze.

“UntilIwin,”shetoldRhysnow,reachingformoresalt.
Rhysgroaned,tippinghisheadback.“Fuckmerunning.”
“What?”Viviasked,andherhusbandsighed,sittingupstraightagain.
“That’sexactlywhatWellssaidwhenIaskedhimthesamequestion.”
Sippingherwine,Gwynhidasmilebehindherglass.
BusinesshadneverbeenbetteratSomethingWicked.SirPurrcivalonlymadeSaturdayappearances,butthatwasenough.Videos
ofhimwerespreadingonsocialmedia,andpeoplewhostoppedinjusttoseehiminevitablyboughtafewthings,too.The
websitebusinesshadpickedupaswell,andshe’dgoneaheadandofficiallyhiredCaitandParkertohelpwiththat.

WellsPenhallowwasapaininherass,butshecouldn’tdenythatcompetingwithhimhadbeengoodforbusiness.
“Hemightaswellpackitin,then,”Vivisaid,refillingherownglass.“Gwynwon’tlose.”
Rhyslookedoverather,surprised.“Ithoughtwewereconscientiousobjectorsinthis.”
“Youcanconscientiouslyobject,”Viviretorted,thenliftedherglass,clinkingitagainstGwyn’s.“I’mTeamGwynforlife.”
“Hear,hear,”Gwynreplied,andRhyslookedbetweenthembeforepullinghisownglasscloser.
“IthinkWellsisaprickninetypercentofthetime,butIfindIcannottoasttohisfailure.”Hescreweduphisface.“Is
thiswhatfamiliallovefeelslike?”

Ignoringthat,ViviturnedtoGwyn.“Weleavereallysoon.Youtwoaregoingtobeallrightwhilewe’regone,right?Imean,
thisisjustsomefriendlycompetition.It’snotgoingtoleadto…Idon’tknow,cursesandvengefulghosts?”

“Justforexample,”Rhysaddeddryly,andGwynshookherhead.
“Youcanleaveusunsupervised,Ipromise.Besides,I’llbetoofocusedonteachingSirPurrcivalsomenewappropriateholidaycatchphrases.Ittookforevertogethimtosay‘HappyHalloween,’butnowthatheknowshegetstreatsafterit,hewon’tstopsayingit.”

Asiftoproveherpoint,SirPurrcivalsaunteredupjustthen.“Halloweeeeeenhappyhappyhalloweeeeeentreatstreatsdickbag?”
“Well,that’sworthatleastathousandlikes,”Rhysoffered,andGwynsighedasshereacheddowntofeedSirPurrcivala
bitfromherplate.

“We’reworkingonit.”
Nexttoherglass,herphonebegantobuzz,andGwynpickedituptoseehermomwascalling.“It’sElaine,”shetoldRhys
andVivi,thenpointedatbothofthem.

“Don’ttellherIexploitedhergrandchildforfinancialgain.”

ThenextdaywasafairlyslowoneatSomethingWicked(andifGwynpeekedoutthewindowafewtimestonoteitwasalsoprettydeadatPenhallow’s,whatofit?).

ThatwasfinewithGwyn,though.They’dmademoreinthelastweekendthantheyhadinthelastmonth,andsheneededtorestock,
plustheBabyWitcheshadwantedmoretarotpractice,sobythetimeacustomercameinnearclosing,Gwynwasalmostsurprised.

Thegirllookedvaguelyfamiliar,whichmeantshewasprobablyalocalbutdefinitelynotawitch.Gwynwould’vebeenable
tosensethat.

“Hi!”shesaidbrightly.“AnythingIcanhelpyouwith?”
Thegirlmovedtowardthecounter,herlongblondhairbrushingtheglass.“Iwasinterestedintarot?”
Ah.Gwyn’sbreadandbutter.
“Well,youareinluckbecausewehaveatonofdecks.Whatkindofvibeareyoulookingfor?ClassicRider-Waite,something
morecontemporary…”

Gwynreachedunderneaththecountertopulloutoneofherfavoritedeckstoselltohumans,andjustasshedid,shefelt
it.

Therewasasortofelectricfeelingintheair,aslightsizzlethatmadeherhairfeellikeitwasstandingonend.
Shestraightenedup,thecardsstillinherhand,andtriedtofocusinonthatfeeling.Itwasn’tcomingfromthegirl.Or
notexactlyfromher,but…

“Areyouokay?”
Gwynlookedbacktothegirl,whowaswaitingforthetarotdeck,andhereyeszeroedinonherneck.
There,swingingfromit,wasastoneonaleathercord.Justahunkofquartz,nothingparticularlyspecial,butsomething
musthavebeendonetothestonebecauseitwaspracticallypulsingwithmagic,settingGwyn’steethonedge.

Shemadeherselfsmileassheplacedthedeckofcardsontheglasscountertop.“Thatissuchacoolnecklace!”
Thegirlsmiledback,herfingersgoingtothecrystal.“Thanks.Iboughtitoverthere.”
Shegesturedtowardthewindow.
Penhallow’s.
NowGwyndidn’thavetofakeasmile.
Oh,I’vegotyounow,Esquire.
Makingfunofherplasticpumpkinsandcartooncatswhilehewassellingpoweredupartifactstonormalpeople.Shewasgoing
torubthisinhisfacesohard,hemightnotevenhaveafacebythetimeshewasdone.

Butfirst,shehadtodoherWitchyDuty.
Glancingaround,sheleanedforwardandloweredhervoice.“Okay,Idon’tnormallydothisforamuletsthataren’tpurchased
here,butthatoneissopretty,Ihavetoatleastoffer.”

Thegirl’seyeslitupasGwynrattledoffabunchofwordssheknewwoulddothetrick—“fullmoon,”“salt,”“cleansing,”
“poweredup”—andthenextthingsheknew,shehadthestonebackinthestorageroom,sittingonasmallsilverplate.

Sheplacedthepalmofherhandontopofthecrystal,breathingdeepandconcentrating.
Afteramoment,shefeltthequartzstirunderherhand,andthen,withthefaintesthissingsound,aruneroseupinfront
ofher,waveringlikesmoke.

Shebreathedasighofrelief.Nothingmajororscary,justasimpleclarityspell.Holdthis,focusonaproblem,andyou’dknowwhattodo,thepathopeningupbeforeyou.
Forasecond,sheconsideredjustleavingthecrystalenchanted.Didn’tnormiesdeservesomeclarity?
Butno,therewererulesaboutthiskindofthing,andwhileGwynreally,reallyhatedfollowingrules,shebroketheenchantmentwithsomemutteredwordsandasprinkleofwatercollectedfromaflowingstreamunderafullmoon.
Whenshewasfinished,thethingsatinthepalmofherhand,justasprettyasithadbeenbutnolongerradiatinganykind
ofmagic.

Satisfied,Gwynreturnedittothegirlwithabrightgrinandacouponfor10percentoffthenexttimeshecameintoSomething
Wicked.

Sincethatwasherlastcustomeranditwasalreadyclosingtime,Gwynfollowedhertothedoor,lockingitbehindher.She
onlytookafewminutestostraightenuptheshop,clearingtheregisterandsecuringcashbackinthestoreroom,andthen
shewasoutonthecoolmoonlitstreet,windwhippingherhairasshehurriedacrosstoPenhallow’s.

GwynhadspentthelastfifteenminutesplottingexactlyhowshewasgoingtoconfrontWellsaboutsellingrealmagic,and
hadthoughtshewouldprobablystartwithsomethingfittinglydramatic.Flingopenthedoor,pointafinger,maybeanice
J’accuse!forsomeflair.

She’dbeenwaitingtohaveoneuponLlewellynPenhallowforthirteenyears,afterall;thiswasnotimetobesubtle.
Butwhenshegrabbedthehandleofthedoor,itdidn’tflingatall.Infact,itwasstubbornlylocked,whichmeantthatinstead
ofstormingininaglorious,righteouswhirlwindofjustice,shesortofpatheticallyrattledthedoor,thentappedherfingernails
ontheglasswhilehescowledatherfrombehindthecounter.

“We’reclosed!”hecalledout,andsheputherfaceclosertotheglass,foggingitupjusttoannoyhim.
“Ineedtotalktoyou!”shecalledback,andhestoodthereforabeat,drumminghisfingersonthecounterbeforefinally
comingoverandunlockingthedoor.

“Yes?”
Ofcoursehedidn’tletherin.
Ofcoursehejuststoodthereinthedoorway,looming,lookingdownthatlongnoseather.
AndofcourseGwynshovedrightpasthim,steppingintothedimstore,onehandinthepocketofhercoat.
“You,”shesaid,pointingathimwithherfreehand,“screwedup.”
Gwynhadn’tmeanttosoundquitethatgleeful,butshecouldn’thelpit.Thiswastoogoodnottoenjoy.

Wells’sbrowsdrewtogether,andhefoldedhisarmstightlyoverhischest.“What?”
“Yousoldahumanamagickedcrystal.”
“ThehellIdid.”
“Thehellyoudid,too,”Gwyncountered.“Aquartzblessedwithaclarityrune.Notabadspell,thanktheGoddess,butit
couldhavebeen.That’swhywehavetobesocarefulwithwhatwesell.”

Wellscrossedovertothecounterandpulledoutalargeblackleatherbook,thecoverfloppingopenashescannedthrough
thepages.

Gwynwatchedhim,herownbrowwrinklednow.“Whatisthat?”
“Everyiteminthisstorethatgetssoldappearsinthisledger,”Wellstoldher,notlookingup.“SoifIdidindeedsellaquartztoday,itwillbeinhere.”
“Youknowwehavecomputersforthatkindofthing,right?Inventoryappsonourphones?I’mallforusingmagic,butyou
havetoadmittechnologybeatsusoccasionally.”

Wellsignoredthat,hisfingerrunningdownoneofthecreamyvellumpages.
Itwas,Gwynhadtoadmit,averynicefingerattachedtoaverygoodhand.Long,elegant,butstillmasculine,asignetring
winkingdullyinthedimlightoftheshop.

Andshealsohadtoadmit,yetagain,thatWellswasdefinitelypullingoffthiswhole…thinghehadgoingon.Proprietor
ofaclassywitchstore,hiswhitebutton-downneatlypressed,thedeepnavywaistcoatheworeaccentuatinghistrimwaist
andbroadshoulders.

YouarecheckingoutLlewellynPenhallow,girl,pleasegripyourself.
Thiswaswhysheneededtogoonmoredates.Toomuchtimeonherown,andshestartedadmiringwaistcoats,forfuck’ssake.

Clearingherthroat,Gwynmovedawayfromthecounter,lookingbackouttowardthefrontwindow.Herownlittleshopglowed
happilyinthenight,thedisplaymaybenotquiteastastefulasPenhallow’s—thegiantbroomwasmaybeabitmuch—butcute
initsownway.Unique.

Hers.
“Hereitis.”
Wells’svoicewassurprisinglyflat,andGwynwhirledaround,marchingbehindthecountertoleanoverhisshoulderandseeforherself.
“Aha!”sheexclaimed,triumphantasherfingerlandedonthewords“Quartz(ClarityRune).”
“Idon’tunderstandit,”Wellsmutteredtohimself,flippingbackthroughthepages.“EverythingelseI’vesoldhasbeenperfectly
harmless;howdidthisonethinggetthrough?”

“Maybeyoudidn’tcheckwellenough,”Gwynsaid,andthenleanedcloser,ignoringhownicehesmelled.“Maybeyouwere…
irresponsible.”

Shegavethewordalittlespookyshudder,wigglinghereyebrows,andWellsclosedthebooksohardherhairactuallypuffed
backfromherface.

“Igotanewshipmentintwodaysago,”hesaid,turningawayandheadingforadoorbehindthecounter.“Ihadn’tthought
I’dputanythingontheshelves,butImusthavemissedsomething.Oritgotputoutbyaccident.”

“Thisiswhyyouneedsomeoneelseworkinginhere,”Gwyntoldhimasheopenedthedoor.“YoumockedmyBabyWitches,but—”
“Idofineonmyown,”hereplied,andwiththat,hedisappeareddownthedarkstairwell.Chapter12
Wellswasn’tsurewhyhe’dexpectedGwyntoleavequietly,butwhenheheardherbootsthumpingafterhimdownthebasement
stairs,hebarelyrepressedasigh.

“Idon’trequireyourassistance,”hecalledouttoherasheflippedonthelights.
Suchastheywere.Thewholeplacehadmaybefourmetalsconcesattachedtothewalls,keepingtheroominasortofperpetual
twilight.

“Youobviouslydo,”sheretorted.Heheardasmallhissandpop,andthenaglobeoflightfloatedoverhisshoulder,slowly
climbingtheshelvesinfrontofhim.

Gwynappearedathiselbow,herheadtiltedupasshelookedattheassortmentofboxesontheshelves.Thelightshe’dconjured
upcastawarmglowoverherfeatures,herlongredhairspillingdownherback,andheforcedhimselftolookaway.

Itwouldbeslightlyeasiertostayannoyedwithherifsheweren’tsodamnedbeautiful.
Eversincethatmomentwithhercatandhersmileandherbloodyfuckingcheek—hadhealwayslikedcheekywomen?Wasthisnew?HadsomeonecursedhimlikeRhyshadbeencursed?—he’dbeenthinkingabout
her,andnow,havingherthisclosefeltlikeaspecialformoftorture.

Madealltheworsebythefactthathe’dclearlybuggeredsomethinguproyallyhere.
God,he’dbeencareful.Therewereafewmagicalitemsintheshop,yes.He’dwantedtokeepsomeonhandshouldPenhallow’s
eventuallybecomethesortofplacewhereonecould—discreetlyandsafely,ofcourse—purchasethatkindofthing.

Butnowhe’dsoldamagickedstonetoahuman,andthatwasacock-upandahalf.
“Howhardisittofindonebox?”Gwynasked,andWellsturnedaround,gesturingtothesheerplethoraofboxesstackedon
theseshelves.

Rollinghereyes,Gwynsteppedforward,thosedamnedbootsclackingandsettinghisteethonedge.
Fromirritation,clearly.
Nothingelse.
“Thisoneisstickingoutalittle,”shesaid,stretchinguponhertiptoes.“Maybeit’stheone?”
Shetugged,buttheboxwasjustslightlyoutofreach,andWellsmadeafrustratednoise,comingcloser.“Letmegetthat.”
“I’vegotit,”sheinsisted,tuggingattheedgeofthebox,andWellssnorted,hisownhandcomingupnexttohers.Shewas
tall,buthewastallerandabletogetafirmerhandleonthethingthanshehad.

“Youdemonstrablydonot‘gotit,’”hetoldherasheyanked,andshefrownedupathim,curlingherfingersintighter,pullingharder.

“Well,ifyoudidn’thavedangerousmagicalshithangingoutinboxesdownhere—”
“Onecrystalwithaverybasicruneonithardlyqualifiesas—”
“Magicismagic,Esquire.”
“I’vetoldyounottocallmethat.Idon’tevenunderstandwhyyoucallmethat.”

Theywereclosetogethernow,boththeirhandsontheedgeofthebox,theircheststouching,thehemofherskirtbrushing
againsthisknees.Hercheekswereslightlyflushed,herlipsparted,andheremindedhimselfthatitwasangercausingthat
blush,andherlipswereopeningtoinsulthim,nodoubt,butthatseemedhardtorememberrightnowforsomereason.

Neitherofthemwaspullingontheboxanymore.
Theywerejuststandingthere,staringateachother.
Astupid,basichumanreaction.Shewaspretty,theywereclosetogether,theywerebreathinghardandlookingintoeachother’s
eyes.Ofcoursehe’dsuddenlyfindhimselfthinkingofotherreasonstheymightbethisclose,otherthingstheycouldbe
doingbesidesarguing.

It’sjustthat…thiswasasideofhimselfhe’dmoreorlessshutdownoverthepastfewyears,andfeelingitroarback
tolifeforthelastwomanheshouldbeinterestedinwasmorethanalittledisconcerting.

“Gwyn,”hesaid,andhereyesmethisagain.Hadtheybeenonhismouth?HadGwynnevereJonesbeenlookingathismouthandthinkingthesamefilthythingshehad?
WellssawthesameconfusionhewasfeelingflashacrossGwyn’sface,andsheshookherhead,almostlikeshewastryingto
clearit.

Andthenherhandtightenedaroundthebox,andsheyanked.
Itstilldidn’tcomefree,butonecornerofthecarboardtore,somethingflyingoutoftheboxandhittingWellssquarely
inthechest.

Apinkandshimmerycloudseemedtoenvelopbothofthem,thebakery-sweetscentofvanillafillingtheair.FillingWells’s
mouthandlungsasheblinkedagainstallthefloatingbitsofglitterintheair.

ItwasalloverGwyn,too,apaledustingofroseandglitter,hereyesavividgreenasshelookedupathim,andifWells
hadthoughthe’dwantedtokissherbefore,itwasnothingcomparedtohowhefeltnow.

Now,itwaslikehemightactuallydieifhedidn’t.Suddenly,kissingGwynJoneswastheonlythingthatmatteredinthe
entireworld,andwhenshetookaswayingsteptowardhim,herpupilshuge,hertonguedartingouttowetherlowerlip,Wells
chasedthemovementwithhungryeyes.

Herhandwasonhischest,fingerscurlinginhisshirt,andthensomehowhishandwasonherface,lookingdownatheras
hisheartnearlybeatitselfoutofhischest.

It’salovespell,youidiot,hisonelastsensiblebraincellcried.He’dneverhadexperiencewithone,onlyheardtheymightexist,buttherewasnodoubtinhismindthat’swhatthiswas.Thatwasclearlytheboxthecrystalhadcomefrom,theoneboxinthewholebloodyshopthatactuallycontainedmagic,andnowhewaspayingthepriceforhisarrogance.
Notthathecaredwhenshewaslookingathimlikethat.
“Wells,”shemurmured,andherealizedshe’dnevercalledhimbyhisnamebefore.AlwaysthedreadedEsquire.NeverWells.

Helikedthesoundofhisnameinhermouth.Hewantedtotasteitthereonhertongue.Hewantedtoslidehishandsinto
allthatgorgeousredhair,andfeelherbodyagainsthis.Hewanted…

Fuck,hejustwanted.
“Thisisaverybadthing,”hetoldherasheloweredhisfacetohers.
“Justtheabsoluteworst,”sheagreed,andthenshewasonhertiptoes,herlipsonhis.
Gwynwasnostrangertolust.Itwasoneofherfavoritefeelings,infact.Thatheadyrushwhenyoulookedatapersonand
sawdesireintheireyes,howyourowndesireroseuptomatchit.Theswoopinginthestomach,thepoundingoftheheart,
thatshiverthatracedupanddownyourspine…allofitwasprettyamazing,andshehadchaseditwhenevertheopportunity
presenteditself.

ButkissingWellsPenhallowinthecellarofhisshopwasonanentirelynewlevel.
It’sbecauseyou’rebothsex-magickedup,shetriedtoremindherselfevenasshepressedherselfclosertohim,armswindingaroundhisneckashishandsslidoverherback,herribs,pullingherineventighter.
Itdidn’tfeellikeafirstkiss.Itwastoogood,toosureofitself,andonceagain,Gwyntriedtotellherselfthathad
tobethemagicbecausesurelyamannamedLlewellyndidn’tkisslikethiswithoutsomekindofmagicalintervention.

Hishandwasonherfaceagain,thatgorgeoushandshe’dbeenwatchingearlier,thumbmovingalongherjawandraisingshivery
sparkseverywhereittouched.Whenthattouchmovedhigher,brushingaspotjustbeneathherear,Gwynwasprettysureshe
actuallywhimpered.

Thatwasafirst.
Wellsmetthatsoundwithanoiselowinhisthroat,andshefeltthatgrowleverywhere,herkneesactuallygoingalittle
weak.

Withoutbreakingthekiss,sheturnedsothathisbackwasagainsttheshelf,pushinghimupagainstithardenoughtorattle
somethingabovetheirheads,buthonestly,theentirethingcould’vecomedownonbothofthem,andGwynwasn’tsureshewould’ve
noticed.

Notwhenhishandwasonthebackofherneck,thesilverofhissignetringcoolagainstherheatedskin,notwhenhistongue
wasslidingagainsthers,hismouthtastinglikecitrusandsugarfromtheteahe’dbeendrinking.Notwhenshecouldfeel
himthroughthefabricofhistrousers,hardforher.

Wantingher.
Becauseofaspell.
Finally,thatvoicestartedtocutthroughsomeofthehaze.
Aspell.
Astupidlovespellthathadraineddownonthembecausethey’dbeenarguing,whichisalltheyeverdid,soitwasclearlythemostpowerfullovespellinexistence,andRhiannon’stits,shewasclimbingalloveramanshedidn’tevenlikebecauseofashowerofcottoncandysexdust.
Headclearing,Gwynbrokethekiss,steppingbacksoquicklythatshebumpedintotheshelfjustbehindher.Thistime,something
fromthetopdidfall,alittlevotive-candleholder,andtheglassshatteringattheirfeetseemedtobringbothofthem
fullybacktothemselves.

Wellswasstillbreathinghard,hisfacestreakedwiththepinkdust,hiseyeswideandhishairawreck.
Ididthat,Gwynthoughtalmostwonderingly,andthensheshookherhead,pullingatthehemofherdresstostraightenit.

“This,”shepanted,reachinguptopushherhairbackfromherface.
Shedidn’tevenhavetofinishthesentence.Wellswasalreadystandingupstraightagain,jerkingatthelapelsofhiswaistcoat.
“Tooright,”heagreedtosomethingshehadn’tsaid.

“Andthat,”sheadded,pointingupattheboxstillteeteringontheshelf.
“Burningit,”hereplied.“Saltingtheearth.”
Gwyngaveabrisknod,thenspunonherheel,hopingherlegsweren’ttooshakytocarryherbackupthestairs.
Shedidn’tlookback.Chapter13
ThecoldnightairwasareliefasGwynsteppedbackoutontothestreet.Shewasstilloverheated,stillfeltlikeshewas
burningupfromtheinsideout,afireathousandcoldshowerscouldn’tputout.

HertruckwasparkedinitsusualspotinfrontofSomethingWicked,butGwynbypassedit,headinginsteadforthesmallalley
besidethestore,herfingersstilltremblingasshedidaquickspellonthesidedoorthatleduptoVivi’sapartment.

Whenhercousinopenedthedoor,GwynknewshemustlookascompletelybonkersasshecurrentlyfeltbecauseVivi,whohad
reallyseensomeshitwhenitcametoGwyn,mutteredaterminWelshGwynhadneverheardherusebefore,hereyeswide.

“Goodlord,whatprovokedthatreac—oh.”

Rhysappearedoverhiswife’sshoulder,andGwynpointedathim.“Out,”shesaid.“ViviandIhave…covenbusiness.”
“Usuallycodeforthetwoofyouwantingtodrinkwineandtalkaboutthingsyoudon’twantmetohear,andgiventhestate
ofyourightnow,Gwynnevere,thatseemsfair.”

PressingaquickkisstoVivi’stemple,Rhysreachedforhisjacketwhereithungbythedoor,squeezingpastGwynwithanotherquizzicallook,but,mercifully,noquestions.
Ashisfootstepsfadeddownthestairs,ViviusheredGwyninside.“Whatisalloveryou?”sheasked,closingthedoorbehind
her.

Oh.Right.
Gwynhadbeensobusyfocusingontheeffectsofthelovespellthatshe’dalmostforgottenshewasstillliterallywearing
it.

“Spell,”shesaid,hervoicestilldazedasshesatheavilyonVivi’ssofa.TheapartmentwasGwyn’shomeawayfromhome,
andshereachedforherfavoritethrownow,thesoftpurpleoneshe’dboughtforViviyearsagoandthatalwayshadaplace
ofhonoronthebackofthecouch.

“Whatkindofspell?”Viviasked,herbrowwrinkled,andGwynlookedupather,blinking.
“Lovespell.”
Vivistoodverystillforalongmoment,thenwithoutaword,disappearedintothekitchen.Whenshereturned,shewascarrying
hertwobiggestwineglassesandafullbottleofPinotGrigio.

VivireallyhadalwaysbeenGwyn’sfavoritepersoninthewholeworld.
Shegratefullyacceptedaglassnow,takingalongsip.
Okay,agulp.
ShecouldstilltasteWells’skiss,herlipstinglingandrawfromthescrapeofhisbeard,andsheshiveredalittleasshe
setherwineglassbackonthetable.

Vivi,patientasalways,wascurledupinthearmchairoppositeher,herfeetcladinblacksockscoveredinbrightgreenspookyeyes.ItwaseasiertolookatthoseeyesthanitwastolookintoVivi’sasGwyntoldhercousinwhathadhappenedthatnight.Aboutthecrystal,aboutgoingovertoWells’sforsomewell-earnedgloating,aboutwantingtoseewhatelsehemighthaveinstorage,andthen,finally—humiliatingly—aboutthepartwhereashowerofpinkglitterthatsmelledlikeacupcakemadeherputherentirefaceonWells’sentireface
andkisshimlikekissingwasindangerofgoingextinct.

Bythetimeshe’dfinished,herglasswasemptyandVivi’smouthwashangingopen,neitherofwhichmadeGwynfeelthatgreat
aboutherlifechoicestonight.

“Wells,”Vivifinallysaid.“Youkissed…Wells.Becauseofalovespell.”
Itsoundedsoinnocentputlikethat.Justakissbetweentwoadultsthankstoalittlelightmagic,nobigdeal!
Butthatdidn’tgetacrossjusthowdevastatingthekisshadbeen,howitseemedtohaverattledeverythinginsideGwyn.

“Itwasn’tjustakiss,”shesaidnow,rubbingherfaceandgrimacingwhenherhandcameawaystillstreakedwithglitter.
“Itwasamagickedkiss.Lovespellmagic,Vivi!JusthangingoutinsomeboxinWells’sstore.Anyonecould’veboughtthatandthenendedup
makingoutwithsomeonetheyhate.”

That’swhatsheneededtodo—turnthisaroundtohowirresponsiblethiswas,howdangerousthatWellshadcometotownand
openedamagicstoreanddidn’tevenknowwhathewasdoing.

Sheopenedhermouthtosayjustthat,butViviwasfrowning,leaningforwardslightly,herthinkyfaceverymuchinevidence.
“Lovespellsdon’tworkthatway,”shesaid,andGwynblinked.
“What?”
Gettingupfromherchair,Viviwenttooneofthemanybookshelvesliningherwalls,herfingersdancingalongthespines
untilshefoundwhatshewaslookingfor.“Magiccan’tmakepeopleactagainsttheirbasicwill,”shesaid,pagingthrough
thebookasGwyn’sstomachbeganaslowdescenttosomewheresouthofherknees.“Itviolatesthe…thebasictenetsof
magic.Youcandobadspellsonpeople,obviously,andthosecandoharm,butyoucan’tmakeapersondosomethingtheydon’twanttodo.Ourspiritsareinherentlytoostrongtobebent,
evenwithmagic.Right,hereitis!”Sheplantedherfingeronapageandbegantoread.

“‘Whiletheideaofalovespellhasloomedlargeinpopularculture,suchmagicisnearlyimpossibletopulloffunlessboth
subjectsfeelamutualpulltowardoneanother.’”

DidGwynjustthinkViviwasherfavoritepersonintheentireworld?Thatcouldn’tpossiblyberight.Herfavoriteperson
intheentireworldwouldnotbealyingliar.
“Letmeseethat.”
Gwyngotupfromthesofa,trailingthepurpleblanketasshetookthebookfromVivi,hereyesskatingoverthepageand,
toherhorror,readingtheexactthingVivihadjustread.

Slammingthebookshut,GwynpusheditbacktowardVivi.“Thisisobviouslyastupidbook.AstupidbookofextremewrongnessthatIcan’tbelieveyouhaveonyourshelf.ItmustbeoneofRhys’sbooks.”
Vivionlylaughed,shakingherheadassheslidthebookbackintoitsspaceonthebookcase.
“Sorry,girl.Thebooksdon’tlie,andthespelldidn’tmakeyoudoanything.YoukissedWellsPenhallowbecauseyouwantedtokissWellsPenhallow.”

WhenWellsheardfootstepsonthestairsleadingdowntothebasement,hisheartgaveaquickleapinhischest.
She’sback.
ButthetreadwastooheavytobeGwyn’s,theshoesnotclackingthewayherbootsalwaysseemedto,andafteramoment,Rhys
cameintoview,handsinhispocketsashesauntereddownthestairs.

WellstoldhimselfhewasonlydisappointedbecausehewasalwaysdisappointedtoseeRhys.IthadnothingtodowiththefeelofGwyn’smouthlingeringonhislipsorthewayhishandswere
practicallyachingtobebackonherbody.

Notthetimenorplaceforthosekindsofthoughts,butluckily,hisyoungerbrother’svoicewasbetterthananycoldshower.
“Youdownhere?”hecalled,andWells,whohadnotmovedfromthespotwhereGwynhadlefthim,whowas,infact,notsure
hewouldeverbecapableofmovingagain,managedaratherfeeble,“Yes.”

Rhysappearedaroundthecorner,abobbingballoflighthoveringjustabovehisleftshoulder.“ThoughtI’d—”hestarted,butthenhefroze,hiseyesgoingslightlywideashetookWellsin.
Wellsscowled,thenglanceddownathimself.Thespellwasstillshimmeringalloverhim,streakinghisdarkclothingpink,
andherolledhiseyes,readyforwhateverquiphisbrotherundoubtedlyhadtodeliver.

ButRhysdidn’tsayaword,onlystoodtherestock-still,hisfacegoingaratheralarmingshadeofredbeforeheburstinto
laughter.

Notjustanylaughter,either,butthefull-throatedcackleofayoungerbrothergettingtomakefunoftheeldest,andthat,
finally,gaveWellsthestrengthheneededtostopstandingaroundlikeafuckingnumpty.

“Allright,yes,”hesaid,attemptingtodusthimselfoff.“IlookasthoughIjustraidedathirteen-year-oldgirl’smakeup,
butthat’sreallynoreasontogetquitethisamused,Rhys.”

ButRhysonlyshookhishead,leaningagainstthenearestshelfashewipedtearsofmirthfromhiseyes.“Oh,mate,”hesaid,
andthenhecollapsedintolaughteralloveragain.

Scowling,Wellsfoldedhisarmsoverhischestanddidhisbesttolookasforebodingasamancoveredinpinkglittercould.
“Itmaylooksilly,butthisisactuallyratherserious.Someonesentaboxwithactualmagicalartifactsinit.This”—he
gesturedattheglitter—“isaspell.Alovespell,Rhys.Whichcould’vebeenadisasterinthewronghands.”

“Lookslikeitalreadywasadisaster,”Rhysreplied,stillgrinning.Thenhejerkedhisheadinthedirectionofthestairs.“EspeciallysinceGwynJonesiscurrentlysittingonmysofacoveredinthatsameshite.”
Bollocks.
Sothat’swhatRhyshadfoundsoamusing.Wellshadhopedtogetoutofthiswithouthisbrotherever,everknowingwhathadtranspiredinthisroom,butthiswas,hewasquicklylearning,theissuewithsmalltownsandfamilies
insaidsmalltowns—secretsdidn’treallyexist.

“Yes,well,”hesaid,sniffingandtuggingattheendsofhiswaistcoat.“It’sallovernowandalessonlearned.Now,help
mecleanthisup,andlet’sfigureoutjustwhyIhadthisspellinthefirstfuckingplace,hmm?”

Tohisrelief,Rhysgaveaneasyrollofhisshouldersandmovedfartherintothecellar.“Iwantyoutoputitinwriting
later.Howyouneededmyhelp.”

“Fine,”Wellsgrittedout,andRhysgrinnedbeforecrouchingdownandpickingupthelittlebagthathadheldthelovespell.
“Careful!”Wellswarned.“That’sstrongmagic.Noideawhereitcamefrom.”
RhysstudiedthebagforamomentbeforeturningbacktoWells,hisexpressioncarefullyschooled.
Thatwasn’tagoodsign.
“Thespell.Itwasinthis?”
Wellsnodded,andknewimmediatelybytheabsolutelyunholygrinthatspreadacrossRhys’sfacethatsomethingwasvery,very
wrong.

Rhysrosetohisfeetandpointedtothetornboxstillontheuppershelf.“Anditcameoutofthis?”
“Oh,forfuck’ssake,”Wellsmuttered,crossingbacktotheshelf.“Whydon’tyoujusttellmewhatyou’rethinkingrather
thanplayingPoirot,hmm?”heasked,alreadyreachingupforthebox.“Youmakesuchabloodyproductionoutofeverything,
IsweartoSaintBugi.”

Theboxcamedowneasily,andWellssetitononeofthelowshelves,tearingopentheflaps.“Whateverelseisinherewill
needtobedisposedofsafely,”hesaid.“There’snotellinghowmanyotherdangerousspellsmightbe—”

WellsblinkedatthecontentsoftheboxasRhyssteppedcloser,peeringoverhisshoulder.
“Idon’tknow,Wells,”hesaidwithashrug.“Someofthatstufflooksabitadventurous,maybe,butnothingdangerousperse.”

Reachingintothebox,Wellspulledoutapairofpurplefuzzyhandcuffs,stilltryingtomakesenseofwhathewasseeing
evenasRhys’sgringrewwider.

“Looksliketherewassomekindofmix-up,”Rhyssaid,tappingthesideoftheboxwhere,forthefirsttime,Wellsnoticed
arathergrubbyandtornshippinglabel.“AndIhavetosay,Iwonderwhatthe…”

Heleanedcloser,tryingtomakeoutthenameonthelabel.“ThePleasurePalaceisgoingtodowithallthewitchshitethey
undoubtedlynowhave.”

“Thisisn’t…”Wellssaid,diggingthroughthebox,wonderingwhysomuchofhislifehereinGravesGlenseemedtoinvolveplasticphalluses.“Idon’tunderstand.”
Thatwaspossiblythebiggestunderstatementhe’devermadeinhislife.Hedidn’tunderstandhowhe’dendedupwiththis
box,hedidn’tunderstandhowthisboxhadsomehowstillcontainedalovespell,andhecertainlydidn’tunderstandwhyhe
wassuddenlysocompletely,painfullyattractedtoawomanwhoclearlyspentmostofherwakingmomentsthinkingupnewways
tomakehislifeasannoyingaspossible.

Becausehe’dbeenthinkingaboutkissingherlongbeforethatspellhaddescendedonthem.
Rhyswasstillholdingthevelvetpouch,andhereachedinsideitnow,asmallpieceofpapertrappedbetweenhisfingers.
“Ithinkthismightexplainsomethings,”hesaid,thumpingthepaperagainstWells’schestbeforeturningandheadingback
towardthestairs.

Wellslookedatthewordsprintedinpinkcurlingscript,hiseyesalreadysearchingouttheword“spell.”
Buttherewasnothingaboutspellsormagicwrittenthere,only…
“Oh,fuckinghell,”Wellswhispered.
Orpossiblywhimpered.
Fromthestairs,Rhysonlylaughed.Chapter14
Gwyncouldnotbelieveshewaslyinginherbed,staringupattheceilingandthinkingaboutkissingLlewellynFreakingPenhallow.
Andyet.
Outside,thesunhadjustcomeup,fillingherbedroomwithacozywarmlight.Itwasoneofherfavoritetimesofday,sunrise.
Theworldalwaysseemedsoquiet,whichmeanthermindgottobealittlequiet,too.

Butthismorning,itwasafull-onmarchingbandofnoiseinherhead.
Amarchingbandthatcomprisedhowlermonkeysandtoddlersandbansheesand—
Groaning,Gwyncoveredherfacewithherhands.Great,nowthebastardhadeventakenthisfromher,theonepeacefulpartofherday,allbecausehehadthenervetobethatgoodatkissingdespite…despite…
well,everythingabouthim.

Vivihadtobewrongwasthething.Thatbookhadtobewrong,andonceshewasdoneatthestorethisevening,Gwynwasgoingtoproveittoherself.She’dmakethestrongestcupofteaknowntoman,maybefindapairofhermom’sreadingglassesjusttomakesuretheuniverseknewshewasreallyseriousrightnow,anddevotesomeserioustimetoresearchinglovespells.Andthenshe’dprovethatthatkisshadbeentheresultofmagicandnothingmore.
Shegaveafirmnod.“Right,”shesaidoutloudtoheremptybedroom.
Buttheproblemwas,assoonasshestartedthinkingabouthowtoprovethekisswasamagicalfluke,shestartedthinking
aboutthekissitselfagain,andthat’showshelostanothertenminutestogloweringattheceilingwhilethinkingabouthowshe’dmadeoutwith
amanwhoprobablyworesweatervests
“Kiss?”
Startling,GwynglanceddownatthebedwhereSirPurrcivalhadjustmanagedtorousehimself,lazilymakinghiswayupto
her.“Kiss?”hesaidagain,bumpingagainsther.

Gwynsatup,pressingaquickkisstothetopofhisheadevenasshegavehimadarklook.
“You’renotfunny,”shetoldhim,butheonlyblinkedhiseyesslowlybeforeyawningandcurlingupinthewarmspotinthe
bedGwynhadjustvacated.

Herclothesfromlastnightwerestilldrapedontheoverstuffedvelvetchairnearthewindow,thepinkshimmerystuffsparklinginthesunlight,andwithagrimace,Gwynpickedupthebundleandtosseditintoherhamperandthen,afterabeat,wentaheadandshovedtheclothestotheverybottomofthepile.
Outofsight,outofmind.
IfonlyitwouldbethateasytogetridofWellsPenhallow.
Theonlywayoutisthrough,GwyntoldherselfgrimlyassheopenedthedooroftheCoffeeCauldronanhourlater.

Thefamiliarandcomfortingsmellofroastingcoffeewaftedoverherasshemadeherwaytothecounter.Itwascrowdedthis
morning,asitalwayswasaroundthistime.Thatwasfine,though.Thelongershecouldputofftheinevitable,thebetter.

ButtheCoffeeCauldronworkedwithjustthelittlestbitofmagicrunningthroughit—everyemployeewasawitchatthecollege—which
meantthatbeforesheknewit,Gwynwasattheregister,facingasmilingSam.

“Theusual?”Samasked,andGwynnoddedbeforeleaninginandloweringhervoicetoask,“DoesWellsPenhallowcomeinvery
often?”

“Um,ourarchenemy?Sometimes?”
“Doyoubyanychanceknowwhatheusuallyorders?”
Samlookedbaffled,glancingaroundher.“Okay,areyougonnalike…putsomekindofspellinhiscoffee,Glinda?Because
thatseemsveryuncool,Igottasay.”

“No!”Gwynsaid,maybejustalittletooloudlygiventhatSamactuallyflinched.
Shakingherhairbackoffhershoulders,Gwynmadeherselfsmileandsay,“Ijustneedapeaceoffering.”
Sam,thanktheGoddess,didn’tquestionthat.Shejustshruggedandsaid,“Heusuallygetsaplainblackcoffee.”
“Ofcoursehedoes,”Gwynmuttered,thensighedandhandedoverherdebitcard.“Oneofthose,then,andmyusual.”
Gwyndidn’tactuallyhaveausual,shejustlikedsayingthat,andSamlikedmakingupvariousconcoctionsshethoughtcouldbeGwyn’susual.Today’swassomekindoflavenderteasituationwithvanillaandcardamom,andGwyntookarestorativesip
ofitassheheadedoutoftheCoffeeCauldronandmadeherwaytoPenhallow’s.

Itwasstillfairlyearly,thestreetsquiet,theskythatperfectshadeofbluesheassociatedwiththistimeofyear.There
wasjustthebarestchillintheair—bytheafternoon,sheknewshe’dhavetoditchtheblackcardiganshe’dthrownonover
herCrystals&Cats&Wands&BroomsT-shirt—butfallwasofficiallyhere,andGwyntookadeepbreath,psychingherselfupasshesteppedintoPenhallow’s.

Wellswasbehindthecounterasusual,lookingoversomekindofledgersimilartotheonehe’dshownherlastnight,and
whenhelookedupandsawherstandingthere,shecouldswearhisearswentalittlered.

Thatmadeherfeelbetter.Ifhewasasembarrassedasshewas,theplayingfieldwaslevelatleast.
Clearinghisthroat,Wellscamearoundthecounter.Hewaswearinganavybutton-downtodaywithdark-washjeansand,Gwynwasveryrelievedtosee,anactualsweatervest.
Thatsweatervestwasbetterthananycoldshower.Shewasgoingtobuyhimextraones.Maybesomethinginpolkadots.
Standingupalittlestraighter,Gwynthrustthepapercupofcoffeeathim.“Igotthisforyou,”shesaid.
Hedidn’ttakeit.“Isitpoisoned?”
“Yes,Ifinallydecidedtheonlywaytohandleamildretailfeudwaswithsomemurder.Welldone,Esquire.”
ThetiniesthintofasmileflickeredatthecornerofWells’smouthashereachedoutandtookhisdrink.
“Iaskedthemforthemostboringthingtheyhad,anditturnsoutthatwasyourusual,”Gwyntoldhimashetookasip.
“Nothingboringaboutawell-madeblackcoffee,”hesaid,thennoddedathercup.
“Isupposeyoursisfilledwithglitterandthetearsofunicorns.”
“Theywereoutofunicorntearsthismorning.HadtouseSplendainstead.”
Thatmadehimsmileoutright,andGwynwasforcedtoadmitthatheactuallyhadaverynicesmile.Itprobablyhurthisface
giventhatallthosemuscleshadtobewaymoreaccustomedtoscowling,butstill.

“Sowhyareyoubringingmeanunpoisonedcupofboringcoffeethismorning?”Wellsasked,andGwyntookadeepbreath.
“Peaceoffering,”shereplied,andhiseyebrowsrose.
“Hmm.”
Thunkinghercupdownonthecounterbesideher,Gwynfoldedherarmsoverherchestandgaveherselfamentalshake.
YouareGwynnevereFuckingJones,sheremindedherself.Youareagrown-asswomanwhoisnotgoingtobeembarrassedthatshekissedaguy,comeon.
“Look,”shesaidtoWells.“Lastnightwasamomentarylapseofsanitybroughtonbyastupidlovespellthathadnobusiness
beinginthisstore.”

Wellsfrownedoverhiscup,buthedidn’tinterrupther,soGwynbarreledon.
“Butthethingis,wewouldn’thavegottencaughtupinthestupidlovespellhadwenotalsobeeninthisstupidfightover
thestores.SoIamproposingatruce.”

Wellsputhisowncupdownandfacedher,mimickingherpose.Andifthatstretchedhisstupid,completelyunsexyvestover
thesurprisinglybroadchestGwynwasnowunfortunatelymuchmorefamiliarwith,sheonlylethereyesdropfromhisface
forateensymoment.

“Iam…amenabletothis,”hesaid.“Whataretheterms?”
“One.”Gwynliftedafinger.“Youneversay‘amenable’again,andmaybestartpracticingphrasesfromthetwenty-firstcentury,
like‘thatsoundsgood!’orsomethingsimilar.Two.”Anotherfinger.“YoustayonyoursideofthestreetandIstayonmine.
Iwillrunmybusiness,yourunyours,and—”

“Neverthetwainshallmeet,understood.”
“Youreallydidnotlistentopointoneatall,didyou?”
Ignoringthat,Wellsquirkedaneyebrowather.“Isthereapointthree,orhaveweexhaustedthisalreadyexhaustingconversation?”
“That’sprettymuchit,”Gwynsaid,thenheldoutherhand.“Agreed?”
Wellslookeddownatherhand,andGwynsuddenlyrealizedthatshakinghandswastouching,andgivenallthetouchingshe
andWellshaddonelastnight,maybeevensomethingassafeasahandshakewasnotthebestofideas.

Maybehewasthinkingsomethingsimilarbecauseheclearedhisthroatagain,andwhenGwynglancedupathim,sherealized
hewas…well,notblushing,exactly.Buttherewasadefiniteflushclimbinguphisthroat,andshehadaveryvisceral
memoryofwantingtoputhermouththerelastnight,rightatthehollowbetweenhiscollarbones,and—

Hispalmpressedagainsthers,herfingersautomaticallyclosingaroundit,andthen,thanktheGoddess,themomentwasover
andherhandwassafe.

“Soarewefriendsnow?”Wellsasked,flexinghisfingersagainsthisside.“Colleagues?Compatriots?”
“We’re…neighbors,”shedecided.“Congenialbusinessownerssharingaspace.”
Wellsnoddedatthat.“Worksforme.”
“And,”Gwynadded,pointingathim,“asyourneighborandfellowbusinessowner,Ineedtoknowthatyougotridofthatbox
ofspells.”

ThestrangestexpressionflickeredacrossWells’sfaceforasecond,andGwynfrowned.
“Yougotridofit,right?”
“Ofcourse,”heanswered,thenpausedagain,liketherewassomethingmorehewantedtosay.Whateveritwas,heclearlydecided
againstitbecauseheshookhisheadandsaid,“Alltakencareof,nevertobeanissueagain.Witch’soath.”

Thatwasn’tanactualthing,butGwynwouldtakeit.
“Good.So.I’ll…seeyouwhenIseeyou,Esquire.”
Hegaveherafunnylittlesaluteinreturnthatmadeherrollhereyesevenasshechuckled,reliefsweepingthroughher.
Thiswasover,then.Aweirdmagicalblip,somethingshecouldbrushoffandforget.Bythistimenextweek,sheprobably
wouldn’tevenrememberthatkiss.
Chapter15
Itwas,WellsreflectedasheplacedanewdisplayofamuletsonthecounterofPenhallow’s,muchmorepeacefulwhenhewasn’t
feudingwithGwynJones.

Ithadbeenaweeksincethe…incidentinthecellar,andafterGwyn’sofferofcoffeeandatruce,he’dbarelyseen
her.Occasionallytheywereopeninguporclosingdownatthesametime,andwhenthathappened,they’dgiveeachothera
cordialwave.Noarguments,noattemptsatoutdoingoneanother.JusttwolocalbusinessownerswithanappropriateBusiness
Relationship,allverycivilized.

Soyes,muchmorepeaceful.
Andalso,hehadtoadmit,muchduller.
Hecaughthimselfglancingatthefrontwindowagain,somethinghewasdoingmoreandmorefrequentlylately.Wellsalwaystoldhimselfitwasbecausehewaskeepinganeyeoutforanypotentialcustomers,butthetruthwas,hewashopingtoseeaglimpseofredhair,andthatwassopathetichecouldhardlystandit.Thiswaswhatcameoflivingafairlycelibatelifefortoomanyyears,clearly.Onekiss,andhewaspracticallypining.He’dbedoodling“Mr.LlewellynPenhallow-Jones”inanotebooknext.
AndGwynhadmadeitveryclearthatshewasnotdoingthesame.
Youshouldhavetoldheraboutthe“spell,”younumpty,avoiceinhisheadremindedhim,andWellssighed,slidingthedisplaycaseclosed.

“Towhatend?”hemutteredoutloudjustasthebellovertheshopdoorrang
Anotherstupidleapofhisheart,hopingitmightbeher—althoughifsheheardhimsay“towhatend?”hewasinforapretty
thoroughmocking,heknew—butashelookedover,hesawitwasn’tGwynbutanotherwoman,slightlyshorter,dressedallin
black.Herhairwasblack,too,sodarkithadanalmostbluesheeninthelamplight.

Herskinwaspale,herlipsadeepcrimson,andthemagicradiatingoffherwassostrongthatWellsnearlytookastepback.
Hehadn’tfeltpowerlikethat…well,ever,really.Andhisfamilywasfullofverypowerfulwitches.

“Goodmorning,”hecalleddown,steppingaroundthecounter,andsheturnedtowardhim,thosebrightredlipscurvinginto
asmile.

“Llewellyn,”shesaid,andhepaused,hiseyessearchingherface,lookingforanythingfamiliar.Surely,he’drememberher.Notjustbecauseshewasbeautiful—althoughshewascertainlythat—butforthissensation,likeelectricitywascomingoffher.Hehalfexpectedtofindhishairstandingonend.
“I’msorry,havewemet?”heasked,andshelaughed,wavingoneeleganthand.
“Oh,notreally,”shesaid,afaintSouthernaccentroundinghervowels.“WewereatPenhavenatthesametime,butIdon’t
thinkweeveractuallyspoke.”

Ah.Thatwouldexplainit.He’dhadhisnosepressedagainsttheproverbialgrindstonesohardinthatbrieftimeatPenhaven,
itwasawonderhehadanynoseleftatall.

“I’mMorgan.MorganHowell,”shesaidnow,offeringherhandforWellstoshake.Hewasremindedoftheothermorning,that
briefpressofhispalmtoGwyn’s,howhe’dbeenintenselyawareofherskinandthewarmthofit,howsuchasimplegesture
hadhadhimflexinghishandfortherestoftheday,likehecouldstillfeelhertouchthere.

TherewasnosuchsparkwithMorgan,whichwasbotharelief—hehadn’tdevelopedsomekindofhandshakingfetish—andalso
anannoyancesinceitwasjustanothertickinthecolumnreading,“WellsIsaStupidGitWithaWildlyInappropriateCrush.”

“Yourstoreislovely,”Morgansaid,gesturingaround,andWellsslidhishandsintohispockets,rockingbackonhisheels
alittle.Itwasanewfeeling,thisprideinhisestablishment,andhewasratherenjoyingit,ifhewashonest.

“Thankyou.I’veonlybeenopenforacoupleofweeks,butsofar,it’sdonewell.”
“Icanseewhy,”Morgansaidashergazetookinhisneatshelves,thedullglimmerofthevariousamulets,thecrackling
fireagainstonewall.

Thenherdarkeyesmovedtohim,andWellshadthesensehewasgettingthesamelevelofassessmentshe’dgiventheshop.
“Butnothinginhereis…real,”sheadded.

“Oh,it’sallveryreal,Iassureyou,”Wellsreplied,knockingontheshelfthatheldthegrimoires.“It’sjustthatnoneofitismagic.”

Grinning,Morganreachedoutwithonehand,swattingathim.“Obviously,that’swhatImeant,”shesaid,andWellsdidn’t
missthewaysheduckedherheadjustthelittlestbitorthedimplethatappearedinonecheek.

Shewasflirtingwithhim.

Andifhehadanyfuckingsense,he’dflirtrightback.Thiswasabeautifulwomanwhowasalsoapowerfulwitch,andshe
wasclearlyinterestedinmorethanjusthiswares.Womenlikethiswerenotexactlythickontheground
Butthenheonceagainfelthiseyeswandertothefrontwindow.
Morganfollowedthatlook.“GwynJonesstillrunsSomethingWicked,right?”sheasked,andWellssnappedbacktoattention.
“Indeedshedoes,”hereplied.“It’sgot,asIbelieveshe’dsay,‘adifferentvibe,’butit’salovelystoreinitsownway.”
“Gwynwasalwaysafirecracker,”Morganmused,stilllookingoutthefrontwindow,andWellscouldn’thelpbutsmile.
“Thathasnotchanged,Iassureyou.”
Morganturnedbacktohimthen,hergazeassessing.“Arethetwoofyou…”sheasked,trailingoffsuggestively,and
Wellscouldactuallyfeelhimselfabouttolaunchintosomesortofterrifyinglyprudishbumblingspeech,allstammersand
formalwordslikehewasinsomedireromanticcomedy.

Instead,hesteppedbackfromthewindow,givingwhathehopedwasacarefree-soundinglaugh.“Oh,no,”hesaid,evenasvisions
ofhishandsinGwyn’shair,herlipspartingunderhis,laidsiegetohisbrain.“Merelyfellowlocalbusinessowners.And…
family,Isuppose.Hercousinismarriedtomybrother.”

Morgannodded.“Iheardallaboutthat.Andit’stheJonesfamily’smagiccurrentlyrunningthetownnow,yes?”
Wellsnoddedevenashewaitedfortheirritationhenormallyfeltatthatremindertobubbleup.Buttherewasnothingthere
thistime.Maybeitwasbecausehe’dbeeninGravesGlenlongenoughnowtoseehowsmoothlythingsseemedtoberunning.
Howhappyhisbrotherwas.

Maybe,thoughhe’dneversayitoutloud,hisfatherhadactuallybeen…wrong.
Nolightningboltcrackledoutoftheskytosingehimforsuchadisloyalthought,soWellsadded,“Doingabang-upjobof
it,too.”

Morgansmiledagain,reachinguptotuckastrandofdarkhairbehindherear.“That’sactuallywhyI’mhere,”shesaid.“AfterPenhaven,IwentbacktoCharlestonandjoinedacoventhere.It’sbeenwonderful,don’tgetmewrong,butRhiannonknowsCharlestonhasplentyofwitches,whichmeanshundredsofcovens,andIwasstartingtofeelalittlelostintheshuffle.Ithoughtitmightbenicetosettlesomewheresmaller,closertoadirectsourceofpower.AndwhenIheardthatthatpowerwasnowbeingchanneledthroughGwynandherfamily,Iknewthiswastherighttimetocomeback.”
Reachingintohercoat,shepulledoutacream-coloredenvelope,hisnamewrittenelegantlyacrossthefront,apurplewax
sealaffixedtotheback
“I’vegotaplacejustoutsideoftown,nearthecollege,andI’mhavingalittlehousewarmingpartyFridaynight.Localwitches
only.”Shesaidthatwithanotheroneofthosesharpsmiles.“Ihopeyou’lldropby.”

Theinvitationwasheavyinhishand,thepaperthickandexpensive,andWellshadtoadmithewasalittleimpressedeven
assomethingaboutMorgan’sstory…well,itdidn’tbotherhimexactly,butsomethingaboutitdidn’tquiteaddupforhim,either.WellsmaynothavehadthatmanycustomersatThe
RavenandCrown,butyoudidn’trunapubforyearswithoutlearninghowtoreadpeople.

Andrightnow,Morganwastryingslightlytoohard.
HethoughtagainaboutwhatBowenhadsaid,abouthowshiftsinmagicalpowercoulddrawallsortsofbadpeople.
WasthatwhyMorganwashere?
This,Wellsremindedhimself,waswhyhe’dcomehere.Tobeofusetothetownhisancestorhadfoundedandkeepitsafe.
SohesmiledbackatMorgan,tappingtheinvitationagainsthispalm.“Wouldn’tmissit.”
“HaveImentionedhowmuchI’mgonnamissyou?”
Gwynwassittingcross-leggedonViviandRhys’sbed,watchingashercousindidsomelast-minutepacking.OrVivi’sversion
ofit,atleast.She’dbeenpackedforweeksasfarasGwynknew,butshealwaysendedupdoingthis,takingeverythingout
anddoingathoroughrepackingincaseshe’dforgottensomething.

Now,asVivifoldeduponeofherskirtsandlaiditintheopensuitcasebyGwyn’ship,sheshookherheadslightly,blond
hairfallingoverhershoulders.“We’llbebackbeforeyouknowit.TheweeksleadinguptoSamhainarealwaysnuts,anyway,
soyou’llbetoobusytoactuallymissme.”

Gwyngaveadramaticsighandfellbackwardonthebed.“You’reright,Iknowyou’reright.”Proppingherselfupononeelbow,
shenarrowedhereyesatVivi.“Ooh,andwithyouandMomgone,thismakesmetheheadofthefamily.”

Vivilaughedatthat,andencouraged,Gwynsatup.“Thematriarch,”shecontinued.“HeadWitchinCharge.QueenWitch.I’llbedrunkwithpowerbythetimeyoucomehome.Justfull-onGaladriel,beautifulandterrible.”

FlickingGwynwithoneofthesweatersshewasabouttofold,Vivigrinned.“Okay,nowIthinkyou’retryingtoconvinceme
tostayhome.”

“Oh,therewillbenoneofthat,”Rhysannounced,comingintotheroom.Hewasholdingabeer,hisdarkhairtousled,andGwynsworeViviactuallyswooned.Whoswoonedfortheirownhusband?

ThenGwynglancedbehindRhysandspottedWellsstandingthere.She’dheardRhysopenthedoortohimearlier,assumedhe
wasalsodroppingintosaygood-byesinceRhysandViviwereduetoleaveatatrulyillegaltimeofmorningtomorrow.

Wellsalsohadabeer,andifhishairwasalittleneaterthatRhys’s,hedefinitelylookedmorecasualthanheusuallydid,
dressedinjeansandaV-necksweater.

Whateverthatlittleswoopinherbellywas,itwasdefinitelynotaswoon.

Sittingup,Gwyntuckedonelegunderneaththeother,fluffingherhairabitasshedid.“Iwasjustremindingyourwife
thatwithhergone,I’llbethemostimportantwitchintownandwasthereforeplanningmytyrannicalandpower-hungryreign.”

“Andthetownshudders,”Rhysreplied,steppingclosetoViviandslidinganarmaroundherwaist.Sheliftedherfaceto
his,andasRhyskissedher,GwynsawWellsgrimaceslightly.

“Theydothisallthetime,”shetoldhim.“It’stheworst.”
“Indeed,”hemutteredagainstthelipofhisbeerbottle.Ashetookasip,Wellsglancedoverather,andwhentheireyes
met,Gwyncouldsweartherewasaslightlyconspiratorialtwinklethere.

“Thetwoofyouaretheworst,andIwillnotbeshamedforkissingmygorgeouswifeinmyownhome,”Rhyssaid,pointingatWellsandthen
Gwyn,andGwynliftedherhandsinsurrender.

“Fine,I’lladmit,yourownapartmentisthecorrectspaceforthatkindofthing.”
“Oh,comeon,”Rhysreplied.“Everyspaceisthe‘correct’spaceforabitofsnogging.Apartments.Cars.Libraries.”One
sideofhismouthkickedup.“Cellars…”

Vivielbowedhimintheside,andhegaveanexaggeratedwinceevenasWellsshothimadarklook.Gwyn,forherpart,willed
herselfnottoblush.Theywerealladultshere,forfuck’ssake.Shecouldtakealittlelightteasingaboutonefreaking
kiss.

“Youknow,Rhys,”shetoldhim,“whenI’mQueenWitch,Icouldhaveyouexecutedforthatkindofthing.”
“AndwhileIwillactivelyleadaresistanceagainstthedarksovereigntyoftheWitchQueenGwyn,Iwillsupportherinthis
onething,”Wellssaid,tippinghisbeerbottleinRhys’sdirection.

Rhysfrowned,lookingbackandforthbetweenthem.“Wait.Wait,no,Ihatethis.Gobacktobeingmeantoeachother,please.”
Vivilaughed.“Servesyouright,”shesaid,andGwyncaughtWells’seyeagain.Hewassmilingalittle,looserandmorerelaxed
thanshewasusedto,andshehadtoadmit,thiswaskindof…nice.Havinganotherpersontosharetheselittlelooks
withwhenRhysandViviwerebeingPeakThem.Maybeitwouldn’tbesobadhavingWellsaroundmoreafterall,especiallyif
hecouldbethisWells.

ExceptthatthisWellsalsomadeherfingersitchtotouchhissweaterandseeifitwasassoftasitlooked.Toslideher
handsunderneathitandfeelhisskin,warmandsolidbeneathherpalms.To—

Gwynlookedawaysofastshewasprettysurehereyesmadeanaudiblesnappingsound.
“Istilldon’tlikeit,”Rhyscontinued.“Mefinishedpackingbeforeyou,GwynandWellsteamingup,Wellsgettingadate—the
wholeworldisoffitsaxis.”

GwynlookedoveratWellsagain,eyebrowsraised.
Hewasallowedtohavedates,ofcourse.Heshouldhavedates.Wellshavingdateswouldbeaverygoodthingforallkindsofreasonsshewassureshewouldthinkofanysecond
now,buttherewasstilljustthetiniestlittlebitofreliefthatspilledthroughherwhenWellsrolledhiseyesandsaid,
“Forthelastbloodytime,it’snotadate.”

“Areyousure?”Gwynaskedhim.“Irealizewhoeverthiswomanis,sheprobablydidn’taskyourfather’spermissiontocourt
you,butitmightstillbeadatetothoseofuswhoaren’ttimetravelersfrom1823.”

WellsthrewherascowlevenasRhyshootedwithlaughter.
“Iassureyou,it’snotadate,”hesaidagain,butsincehedidn’tofferanyadditionalinformation,Gwynwondered.
Notthatitwasanyofherbusiness.
Gettingoffthebed,shenoddedatVivi’ssuitcase.“Ithinkyou’veachievedPackingUtopia,Viv.Justonemorething.”
Gwynreachedforherbag,tossedcarelesslytothesideofthebedwhenshe’dcomein,andpulledoutapieceofamethyst,
wigglingitbetweenherthumbandforefinger.

“Neverleavehomewithoutit!”
Leaningover,sheplacedthecrystalonVivi’sthingsandlaidahandontopofit,thecoolstonepressedagainstherpalm.Itwasaspellshe’ddoneathousandtimes,acompletelysimpleprotectionwardthatwouldensureVivi’sluggagewouldn’tgetlost.
GiventhatRhys’sparticularmagictalentsdealtwithluck,especiallywhenitcametotravel,therewasn’tmuchchanceof
thatanyway,butGwynstillwantedtosendalittlepieceofhomeoffwithVivi.

Alittlepieceofher.
Shethoughtthewordsofthespellandwaitedforthatwarmfeelingtospreadupfromhertoes,downherarm,intothehand
nowrestingagainsttheamethyst.

Nothinghappened.
Hereyesshotup,herbrowwrinklingasshelookedatherhand.
“Gwyn?”Viviasked,andGwynlookedupathercousin,givingherasmileevenasthefaintestalarmbellsstartedringing
inherhead.

“It’snothing,”shesaid.“Justwasn’tconcentratinghardenough.”
Thistime,shedidn’tjustwhisperthewordsinhermind.Sheshoutedthem,asloudasshecould,hereyessqueezedshut,
tinydropsofsweatpoppingoutonherbrow.

Immediately,shefeltmagicsurgethroughher,thecrystalglowingwarm,andshelaughed,alittlebreathless.
“There,”Gwynsaid,straighteningup,thenopeningandclosingherhandafewtimes,shakingitlikeshewastryingtowake
itup.“Thatwasweird.”

Viviwasn’tsmiling,though,andevenRhyslookedserious.Wellswasbehindher,soshecouldn’tseehisface,butGwyncouldstillfeelhisgazeonher.
“What?”shesaid,lookingaround.“It’sfine!Iwasjustlazy,andthemagicwas,like,‘Nope,notthevibe,girl,’soIput
mybackintoitalittlemore,andvoilà!”

Gwynknewthatcouldhappen.Magicwasawildthing,afterall.Sometimesitmightnotcooperate.
It’sjustthatithadneverhappenedtoherbefore.
Shewiggledherfingersagain,sendinglittleshowersofgoldensparklesintotheair,then,justforgoodmeasure,called
upaquicklightspell,aglowingorbhoveringjustoverhershoulder.

Tryingnottolookasrelievedasshefelt,Gwynshrugged.“Rightasrain.”
“FutureasWitchQueensecured,then,”Rhyssaid,andVivi’sshouldersrelaxed.
“Sorry,”shesaid,alittlesheepish.“IguessaftereverythinglastyearwiththecurseandRhys’smagic,I’malittleparanoid.”
“Understandable,”Gwynacknowledged,“butthere’snothingtoworryabout.Youtwogoonyourbighoneymoon,anddon’tthink
aboutthisplaceforasecond.Iwillhaveeverythingabsolutelyundercontrol.”

“Andyou’llhaveWells,”Rhyssaid,gesturingathisbrother,aslightlyevilgleaminhiseye.“Thetwoofyouwillhold
downthefortadmirably.Likeateam.”

Gwynglancedoverhershoulder,andsawWellsseemedeverybitashorrifiedbythatideaasshefelt.
Still,shemadeherselfsmile.“Sure.Ateam.”Chapter16
“IfeellikeImaybefuckedsomethingup.”
Thosewereneverwordsyouwantedtohearfromawitch,andGwynfrownedasshelookedupfrombehindthecounteratSomething
Wicked.

Itwasagrayanddrizzlyafternoon,thekindofweatherthattendedtokeeppeopleinsideandoutofshops,soGwynhadagreed
toletSam,Cait,andParkerworkontheirspellcraftinthestorageroom.

ClearlynotoneofherbestideasgiventhelookonParker’sfacerightnowastheypeepedoutfrombehindthecurtain.
Sighing,Gwynwalkedaroundthecounter.“Vivionlyleftthismorning,”shesaid,“andify’allhavecreatedsomemagical
disasterinthelessthantwelvehoursshe’sbeengone,I’mgoingtobeverydisappointedinyou.”

“They’rebeingdramatic!”Caitcalledfromthestorageroom,andwhenGwynpulledbackthecurtain,shesawtheothertwowitchessittingonthefloor,surroundedbypiecesofparchment,somebagsoflooseherbs,andaheapofwaxpieces.Inthecenter,therewasasmallcauldronperchedoverapinkishflame,themilkycontentsinsidebubbling.
“Okay,whenIsaidyoucouldworkbackhere,Ididn’tknowyouweredoingcandles,”Gwynsaid,crossingherarmsoverher
chestasSamandCaitflashedeachotherslightlyguiltylooks.

“Well,”Samsaid,“wethoughtifwetoldyou,you’dsayno.Andthisisthebestplacetoworkonwitchystuff!”

Gwyncouldn’tdisagreewithherthere.She’dalwayslovedthebackroomofSomethingWicked.Theymightcallit“storage,”
butitwasactuallyamagicalspace,cozyandlushwithvelvetcurtainsandflickeringsconcesonthewall,thickcarpets
underfoot.Alightenchantmentkeptcustomersfromeverwanderingbackintoit,andVivi,Gwyn,andElainealltookturns
magicallyredecoratingittotheirtastes.Rightnow,itwasstillinVivimode,butGwynhadaddedafewtouchesofherown.
Ahangingplantinonecorner,awindowjusttotheleftwhereitalwaysappearedtoberaining.

Soshecouldn’tblametheBabyWitchesforwantingtohangoutinhere.Andassomeonewhohadlivedmostofherlifeaskingforgivenessratherthanpermission,Gwynfiguredthiswaskarma.

“Whatexactlyseemsfuckedup?”sheasked,sittingdownintheircircle.
Parkerhandedheracandle,thewaxstilllumpyandalittlewarminherhand.“Itjustfeelswrong,”theysaid,flickingtheirdarkhairoutoftheireyes.“Iwastryingtogiveitacalmingenchantment,youknow.Sowhenit’slit,youfeelallZen.ButI’mnotfeelingit.”
Gwynwasn’t,either,andsheclosedhereyes,tryingtogetasenseofwhatwasgoingonwiththecandle.
Whenshe’dgottenbackfromVivi’slastnight,she’ddamnnearexhaustedherselftryingouthermagic.She’dusedittobrew
apotoftea,she’dflickedherfingersandturnedallthelightsinthecabinon,thenoffagain.She’devengivenSirPurrcival
brightpurpleclawsandaprettystripedbowperchedbetweenhisears.(Hewasstillwearingit.Whenshe’dtriedtomagick
itaway,he’dhowled,“Pretty!Preeeetttty!”atheruntilthebowwasrestored.)

Whateverthatlittlebliphadbeenwiththecrystal,itwasclearlyjustthat—afluke,aweirdlittlemoment—buttherewas
stillalittleflickerofworryinthebackofhermindasshesummoneduphermagic.

Butitwasworkingnow,thatfamiliarwarmthspreadingthroughher,andafterasecond,shesmiled.
Openinghereyes,GwynhandedthecandlebacktoParker.“Nothingwrongwiththeactualenchantment.It’sthere.”
Parkerbreathedasighofrelief,thenfrownedatthecandleintheirhand.“Thenwhy—”
“It’sjustugly,”shetoldthem.“That’swhatyou’refeeling.Yourspellworkisgood,youractualcandlecraftingisshit.”
Caithootedatthat.“Tell’em,Glinda!”
Parkerscowled,flippingCaitoff.“Okay,I’msorrythatIdidn’texcelinartsandcraftsatsummercamporwhatever,butyouheardGwyn.Thespellwasgood,andthat’sallthatmatters.”

“Notexactly,”Gwynsaid,risingtoherfeet.“It’sallthepartsofaspellworkingtogether.Yes,themagicpartwaswell
done,butifnoonewantstobuythatcandle,ortheythinkitkindoflookslikeameltingpenis,thenthespellcan’treallydoitsjob.”

Parkerstilllookedunhappy,butafterasecond,theynodded.“Okay.Thatmakessense.”
“Youshouldtotallybeteachingatthecollege,Gwyn,”Samsaid,hereyespracticallyshiningbehindherglasses.“You’re
waybetteratthisstuffthanouractualRitualCandleMakingteacher.”

“IsitstillProfessorMcNeil?”Gwynasked.Sherememberedthatclassandthefranklyterrifyingwomanwhohadtaughtit.
She’dpassed,ofcourse,butbytheskinofherteeth.

Thethreewitchesallgavethesameglumnods,andGwynlaughed,pattingSam’sshoulder.“You’llsurvive,promise.AndPenhaven
alreadyclaimedoneoftheJoneswitches.Itcan’thaveanotherone.”

“Still,”Caitsaid,pickingupanotherhandfulofwaxchunksandtossingthemintothecauldron.“Thankyou,Glinda.”
Gwynsmiledbackather,andokay,maybeshedidfeelalittlewarmandfuzzyatthethoughtofteachingthesekids.Didn’t
meanshewantedtoworkatthecollege,butshehadtoadmit,itwasnice,sharingherknowledge,seeingtheadmirationin
theirfaces.

Sheshouldhavethemcomebyandworkontheirspellsmoreoften.
Thewaxroiledinthecauldron,afatbubbleburstingonthesurfaceandsplatteringontothecarpetwithafaintsizzlethatmadeCaitshriekasParkerscootedback,andSamleanedaway,upsettingabowlofherbs,littlebitsofgreenflyingeverywhere.
Okay,somaybetheyneededtofindanewplacetopracticemagic.
Fromoutfront,Gwynheardtheravenoverthedoorcawandturnedbacktothewitcheswithapointedfinger.“Ifyouburn
mystoredownwhileI’moutthere,Iwillturnyouallintonewts.”

“That’snotreallyathing,”Parkersaid,andGwynnarrowedhereyesatthem.
“Doyouwanttotestthattheory?”
“Wedon’t,”allthreesaidinunison,andGwyngaveafirmnod.“Good.”
Itreallywashardworkbeingamatriarch.
Swishingbackthecurtain,Gwynsteppedoutintothestore.
“Gwyn!”
Gwynhadn’tseenMorganHowellintenyears,butsherecognizedherinstantly.Herhairwasshorter,cutinasleekbob,and
shewaswearinganoutfitthatlookedsimplebutprobablycostmorethanthemortgageonthecabin.

ShealsohadmaybethebestredlipstickGwynhadeverseen,whichautomaticallyraisedherevenmorepointsinGwyn’seyes.
“Morgan!”shesaid,steppingforwardandintotheotherwoman’shug.“WhatbringsyoubacktoGravesGlen?”
Itwasn’tunusual,seeingwitcheswhooncewenttothecollege.NotmanystayedinGravesGlen,buttheyusuallymadetheirwaybackatsomepointifonlytovisit.
Gwynassumedthat’swhatMorganwasdoing,soshewassurprisedwhenMorganreplied,“Itwastimeforachangeofpace.”
Shepulledback,stillholdingGwyn’sshoulders.“Iheardyouwerestillrunningthisstore,andIhadtocomepicksomething
upformyself.”

Gwynlaughed,noddingattheshelfMorganwasstandingnextto.
“Youdidnotstrikemeasaglow-in-the-dark-stickers-on-the-ceilingkindofgal,butIdolovebeingsurprised.”

Glancingover,Morganpickeduponeofthepackets.Hernailswerethesamedeepredasherlips,andonherfingeracabochon
emeraldringsetinantiquegoldcaughtthelight.

“Arethesebigsellers?”sheasked,andGwynnodded.
“Trustme,cheapplasticstuffkeepsthelightsoneveryyear.Stars,pumpkins,littlecauldrons…”
Morganwatchedherforamoment,herdarkeyesthoughtful.“Andthisisallthat’sinthestore?Thesekindsof…trinkets?”
Gwynwasn’tnutsaboutthatwordorthewayMorgansaidit,butdefendingablinkingpumpkinthathadBOO!writtenonitwasnotexactlythehillshewantedtodieon.

“Yup,”shereplied,keepinghertonecheerful.“Toodangeroustoselltherealstuff.Wegettoomanytourists,andthere’s
alreadysuchstrongmagicinthetown.Notworththerisk.”

Morganraisedhereyebrows,acornerofhermouthkickingup.“Idon’tknow.Thebestmagicisalwaysalittlerisky,right?”
NowGwyn’seyebrowswentup.WasMorganflirtingwithher?Becausethatwasthekindofsexy-but-dangerouslinesomeoneusuallydeliveredbeforemovinginalittlecloser,eyesdroppingtolipsandallthat.
ButMorganwasstaringstraightintohereyes,andGwynmadeherselflaughasshesaid,“Whydoesthatsoundliketheopening
pitchforsomekindofmagic-basedmultilevelmarketingscheme?”

Morgansmiled,buthereyesneverleftGwyn’s.“I’mserious!”shesaid.“Don’tyoueverdoanythingalittleheavierthan
this?Irememberyoubeingwildlytalented.ThatleafinDr.Arbuthnot’sclass!IttookmetenyearsbeforeIcoulddoatransformation
spelllikethat,andeventhen,itwasn’tnearlyasimpressiveasyours.”

Gwynlikedflatteryasmuchasthenextgal,buttherewassomethingalittleavidinMorgan’sgazeshedidn’tlike,something
thatmadeheruneasy.

“WhatcanIsay,Ipeakedearly,”shesaid,thengesturedtothestreetoutside.“NowIusemytalentsonthingsliketown
planningcommittees.”

MorgantookintheflutteringbannerproclaimingtheGravesGlenGathering,comingsoon,anddrummedhernailsontheshelf
infrontofher.“Iforgotaboutallofthefestivalsandpartiesandthingsthetowndoes.”

SheturnedbacktoGwynandflashedabrightsmile.“MaybeIcanhelp.”
“Sure,”Gwynsaid,wonderingyetagainwhythesefaintalarmbellsseemedtoberinginginherhead.“IknowJane—that’sourmayor—canalwaysuseextrahands.”
Morgannoddedatthatandthen,afterasecond,pickedupseveralpacksofthestars.“Andyouknowwhat,maybeIamaglow-in-the-dark-stickers-on-the-ceilingkindofgal,”shesaid.“Onlyonewaytofindout.”

“Solidchoice.I’dsuggestseeingifyou’realsoapapier-maché-witch’s-hatkindofgal,butbabysteps.”
Theymadetheirwayovertotheregister,andasGwynrangupMorgan’spurchases,Morganleanedonthecounter,hersandalwood
perfumefillingtheair.“Iactuallyhadanulteriormotiveforcominginheretoday,”shesaid,thenreachedintoherbag,
pullingoutanenvelope.

Gwyn’snamewaswrittenincurlinglettersacrossthefront,andasshetookit,Morgan’sfingersbrushedhersbriefly.“I’m
throwingalittleget-togetheratmyhousethisFriday.Asortofhousewarmingthing.I’dloveitifyoucouldcome.”

Gwynstudiedtheenvelope,hereyebrowsshootingupattheheavywaxsealontheback.“Itakeitthisisawineandfancy
dresseskindofpartyratherthanabackyardbarbecue,”shesaid,andMorganlaughed.

“It’soverthetop,Iknow,butc’estmoi.”

“No,it’sgreat,”Gwynsaid.“I’dlovetocome.”
“Excellent!”Morganreplied,takingherbagofstick-onstarsfromGwyn.“ThenI’llseeyouFriday.”
Shepausedforamoment,herbrowwrinklingasshesniffedtheair.“Is…someone’shaironfire?”
“ThankyoufortheinviteenjoyyourstickersseeyouFriday!”Gwynallbutshoutedasshedashedoutfrombehindthecounterandthrewopenthestorageroomcurtain.

Sam,Cait,andParkerwereallstandingrighttherenearthedoorway,lookingsheepish,andCaitwasholdingtheendofher
braid.SmokestillcoiledaboutthecandleParkerwasclutching,andSamwhispered,“Idon’tevenknowwhatanewtis.It’s
alizard,right?Ireallydon’twanttobealizard.”

Glaringatthethreeofthem,Gwynhissed,“WhatdidIsayaboutnotburningthings?”
“We’resorry!”Caitsaid.“But…ohmigod,didMorganHowelljustinviteyoutoherhouse?”

Allthreeofthemwerewatchingherwithexpectantfaces,andGwynwrinkledhernose.“Whydidyousayhernamelikethat?
Likeshe’samoviestaroroneofthosepeoplethatmakesthelittlevideosyoukeepsendingme?”

“MorganHowellisbetterthananymoviestarorinfluencer,”Parkersaid.“She’s,like…thecoolestwitchever.”

“Theotherday,”Samrushedin,“shecameintotheCoffeeCauldron,andIaskedherwhatlipstickshewears,andit’snot
evenabrandyoucanbuy.Someonemakesitjustforher.”

“AfriendofminesaidthatheheardthatwhenshewaslivinginLondon,hercovenactuallygotkickedoutofthecountry
becausetheyweredoingmagicthatwaswaytoohard-core,”Caitsaid,hereyesbright.“We’retalkingnecromancy,cursework,
lovespells…”

“Iknewtheywerereal,”Gwynmuttered,andwhenCaitjustblinkedather,sheshookherhead.
“IknewMorganincollege,andshewasagoodwitch,butshewasn’tthatgood.Andhonestly,noneofthatstuffisanythingyoushouldbeadmiring.It’sdangerous.”

Sam,Cait,andParkeralltriedtolookproperlychastised,butGwynwasn’tfooled.
“I’mserious,”sheadded.“AllthreeofyouwerearoundlastyearwhenthatcurseViviandIdidwentsohaywire.We’relucky
wewereabletofixit,andittookeverybitofmagicwehad.Thethreeofyouarejustdazzledbyadmittedlyexcellentmakeupandaverycoolwardrobe.”

Gwyndidn’taddthatshewasmaybejusttheteeniestbitjealousofhowstarstruckherBabyWitchesseemedoverMorgan.Hadn’ttheyjustbeengivinghertheglowyfacesandheroworshipeyesafewminutesago?

“Areyougonnagotoherparty?”Samasked,andGwynlookedbackoverhershouldertowardthestore,thinkingofthatheavy
invitationsittingonthecounter.She’dalwayslikedMorgan,butshehadtoadmit,therewassomethingweirdabouthersuddenly
showingup.WhycomebacktoGravesGlennow?

AndwithViviandElaineoutoftown,iftherewasWitchyFuckeryafoot,itwasuptohertogettothebottomofit.
“Oh,yeah,”shetoldthewitches.“I’mgoing.”Chapter17
FridaynightarrivedquickerthanGwynwould’vethought.Thestorehadbeenbusy,plusSam,Cait,andParkerhadhadatest
onmoonphasesintheirNaturalMagicclass,andGwynhadagreedtohelpthemstudyforthat.ThenSirPurrcivalhadavet
appointmentforhisannualcheckup,ElainehadwantedtohaveaSkypechat,Vivihadcalledtocheckin…

Itwashonestlyawondershe’drememberedthepartyatall,butnowhereitwas,Fridayevening,andshewasinhertruck,
followingthedirectionsonMorgan’sfancyinvitation.

Themountainsandhillswereahazyblueagainstthelastofthesunset,houses—anykindofbuilding,really—gettingsparser
untilGwynwasdrivingdownintoavalleyshehadavaguememoryofdrivingthroughbefore.

Therehadn’tbeenahousethere,though,andGwynpickeduptheinvitationagain,checkingthatthedirectionswereright.Therewasnoaddresslisted,justavaguebitatthebottomabout“You’llseethehouse,”andGwynpeeredoutthewindshieldastheroadnarrowed,therockyhillsoneithersideofherblockingaviewofanythingelse.
Thentheroadturned,widened,andGwyn’smouthdroppedopen.
Shesawthehouse,allright.
Apparently,whateverMorganhadbeendoingforthepastdecadehadservedherwellbecausethiswasn’tjustahouse.Itwaslikesomethingoutofamovie,theclassier,lessterrifyingversionofthePenhallowhouse.

Turretspiercedthevioletsky,narrowwindowsspillinggoldenrectanglesoflightontothelawn.Gwynspottedabalconyover
thealcoveleadingtoamassivefrontdoor,andjustbehindthebuilding,shecouldseeagreenhouse,mistedwithcondensation.

Carswereparkedinneatrowsinthefieldjustbeyondthehouse,andGwynslottedherredtruckinnexttoaMercedes.There
werealotofMercedes,shenoticed,aswellasacoupleofAudisandevenaRolls-Royce.

Rhiannon’stits,whoallhadMorganinvitedtothisthing?
ThesharpheelsofherbootspiercedthegrassasGwynsteppedoutofthetruckandmadeherwaytothehouse.Assheapproached
thefrontsteps,sheheardacardoorclosebehindherandturned.

Itwasalreadydusk,thelightasoftpurple,butshe’drecognizethatramrod-straightpostureanywhere,andwhenWellsstepped
intothelightspillingfromthewindows,shehatedthewayherheartgaveanextrakickinherchest.

Hewaswearingawhitebutton-downanddarkpants,novesttonight,butbackinthatreally,reallygoodcoathe’dhadonthenighthe’darrivedintown,andshewonderedifshehadsomeheretofore-undiscoveredkinkforouterwear
becausehonestly,thiswasgettingridiculous.

“Gwyn,”hesaid,comingupshort,andshedidn’tmissthewayhiseyesskatedoverher.Itwassubtleand,sinceitwasEsquire,
fairlyrespectful,butitwasdefinitelythere.

Andshewassuddenlygladshe’ddecidedtowearthedressVivialwaysreferredtoas“thesexysorceressone.”Itwasablue
sodarkitwasnearlyblack,andeventhoughithadlongsleevesandaskirtthatwould’vebrushedthegroundifherboots
hadn’thadaslightheel,thefrontwascutlowenoughtoshowoffaparticularlyprettysilverandsapphirependantshe’d
pickedupataBeltanefestivalafewyearsago.

Shefoughttheurgetofiddlewiththatnecklacenow.GwynJoneswasnotafidgeter,afterall.Shewastheonewhomadeotherpeoplefidget.Soinstead,shestraightenedhershouldersandgavehimherbestsmile.

“Esquire,”shereplied,andamuscletickedinhisjaw.
“Iseeourtrucedoesn’textendtothenickname.”
“Wasn’toneoftheterms.”
Heheavedasigh,shovinghishandsinthepocketsofthatdamncoat,andwalkedcloser,thegravelcrunchingunderneathhis
shoes.

“IsupposeIshouldn’tbesurprisedtoseeyou,”hesaid.“It’sclearthisisapartyexclusivelyforwitches.”
Gwyndidn’thavetoaskwhathemeant.Shecouldfeelitherself,themagicsoheavyyoucouldalmosttasteit.Everyoneinsidethathousehadpower,andifshewasjudgingitcorrectly,alotofpoweratthat.

Suddenly,athoughtoccurredtoher,andhereyeswidened.“Ohhh…thiswasyourNotaDateDate,”shesaid,andthere
wasthatmuscleticagain.

“NowdemonstrablyproventobeNotaDate,”Wellsreplied,gesturingatthehouse,andGwynshrugged,shiftingthechainof
hereveningbagonhershoulder.

“Forallweknow,they’redoingwitchyspeeddatinginthere.”
Wellsvisiblyshuddered.“Christ,whataghastlyconcept.”
Gwynwasinclinedtoagree,notthatshewasgoingtolethimknowthat.“Onlyonewaytofindout!”
Hefollowedherupthesteps,histreadheavy.“DidyouknowMorgan?”Wellsasked.“BackatPenhaven?”
Surprised,Gwynglancedbackathim.“What,youdidn’t?”
Wellsshookhishead.“IassumeIgotaninvitebecauseofmylastname.”
“Well,thatandshehadamassivecrushonyou,”Gwynreplied,andwasgratifiedtoseeWellslookslightlysurprised.
“What?”
“Iknow,Ifounditveryhardtobelieve,too,buttheretrulyisnoaccountingfortaste!”
She’dexpectedoneofthepatentedWellsPenhallowScowlsatthat,butinstead,hejustshrugged.“Isupposeshewasabit
flirtywhenshecameintothestore.”

ThatlittlenuggetofinformationshouldnothavebotheredGwynintheslightest,soitwasveryannoyingtofeelherstomachdojustthetiniestdropatthinkingofMorgan—beautiful,mysteriousMorgan—andWellsflirting.DidWellsevenknowhowtoflirt?

Hesureashellknewhowtokiss.
Notahelpfulthoughtrightnow.
Frominside,Gwyncouldhearthelowsoundsofpeopletalkinganddistantmusic,andatherside,shesensedWellssteeling
himself.

Clearlynotapartyperson,Esquire,sowhyhadheacceptedtheinvitation?
Shewasjustabouttoaskhimwhenheturnedtoher,offeringhisarm.“Well,”hesaidonasigh.“Shallwe?”
Gwynwasstaringathiselbowlikeshe’dneverseenthatparticularbitofanatomybefore,andWellswonderedifheshould
justdropitandknockonthedoor.

Butafterabeat,shelaidherhandalmostgingerlyonhisarm,fingerscurlingintohissleeve.
Hecouldtellhimselfhewasofferinghisarmjusttobegentlemanly,buthewasn’tthatdeluded.Fromthesecondhe’dseen
herstandingthereinthatdress,theurgetotouchherhadbeenalmostoverwhelming.Shelookedlikesomethingoutoflegend,
asiren,asorceress,thekindofwomanmenhappilywenttotheirdoomsfor
ItwasdistractingashellwhenhewasmeanttobeheregettingabettersenseofwhatMorganmightwantinGravesGlen,but
thenGwynJoneshadbeendistractingandunsettlinghimfromthemomenthe’dwalkedintothistown.

HewonderedifheshouldsharewithherhissuspicionsaboutMorgan,butGwynandMorganwereclearlyoldfriends.She’dprobablyjustrollhereyesathimagainandtellhimhewasbeinganidiot.Anditwasverypossiblethathewas,butanounceofpreventionwasworthapoundofcure.
Wellsfrownedandmadeamentalnotenevertoactuallysaythatoutloudinfrontofher.
Raisingonehand,hewenttoknockonthedoor,butashedid,iteasedopenonitsown,revealingafronthalllitupbeneath
asparklingchandelier.

Themusicandtalkingwereloudernow,andWellsmovedinsidecautiously,Gwyn’shandinthecrookofhiselbow.
Thatfeelinghe’dhadoutsideofanalmostoverwhelmingamountofmagicwasevenstrongernow,andathisside,Gwyntook
adeepbreath,herheadswivelingfromonesidetotheotherasshetookintheirsurroundings.

Thefronthallwaywasmassive,soaringupatleasttwostories.Therewasastaircasejustaheadofthemcarpetedindeep
red,almostthesameshadeofthelipstickMorganhadbeenwearingtheotherday,andthefloorunderfootwasadarkwood
soshiny,Wellscouldpracticallyseehisreflectioninit.

Roomsopenedoffthehallway,andWellschosetheoneontheirright,adrawingroomwithgildedfurnitureandgoldsilkwallpaper.
IthadbeenawhilesinceWellshadbeentoaparty,andashesteppedintotheroom,herememberedwhyexactlythatwas.
Therewerejust…somanypeople.
Groupsofthem,standingaroundholdingchampagneflutesorcocktailglasses,talking,drapedoverfurniture,laughing.Overadozeninthisroom,atleast,andWellshadgottenaglimpseofanotherdrawingroom,similarlycrowded.
He’dbeenworriedaboutmaybebeingalittleoverdressedtonight,butasWellsglancedaround,hesawthat,forperhapsthe
firsttimeinhislife,hewasactuallythecasualone.Thereweretwomenintuxeschattingnexttoapiano,andseveral
intheformalrobeshisfatherfavored.AlmosteverywomanwasdressedsimilarlytoGwyn,inclinginggownswithlownecks
andsubtlyshimmeringjewelry.

Nexttohim,Gwynleanedinalittlecloser,herlonghairbrushinghissleeve.“Okay,ifIdidn’tknowforsurethatvampires
weren’treal,Iwoulddefinitelythinkthesepeoplewerevampires.”

Wellsglanceddownather,screwinguphisfaceinconfusion.“Vampiresarereal.”
Gwyn’sheadjerkedup,hereyesgoingwide.“Wait,seriously?”
“Howdoyounotknowthat?”
“BecauseI’veneverseenone!”
“AndI’veneverseentheLochNessMonster,butIstillknowsheexists,”hesaidwithasniff,andGwyn’seyessomehow,impossibly,
gotevenbigger.

“Nessie’sreal,too?”
Wellsheldhispompousstanceaslongashecould,buttheabsoluteshockinhervoicehadhisliptwitching,andwhenher
eyesnarrowedathim,hecouldn’thelpbutsmirk,andthenthatsmirkactuallybecamealaughasshehip-checkedhim.

“Okay,youknowwhat?Justforthat,whentheseweirdospicksomeonetorituallysacrificetonight,Iamabsolutelyvolunteeringyou.”
“NolessthanIdeserve,”hereplied,andshesmiledalittle,shakingherhead.
“Ihatewhenyoumakemelikeyou,Esquire.”
“I’llendeavortobemoreunlikableinthefuture,”hepromised,andGwynsnorted.
“Sentenceslikethathelp.”
Awaiterpassedbythen,holdingatrayofchampagneflutes,andWellsandGwyneachtookone,Gwyn’shandfinallydropping
fromhisarm.

Hefeltthelossofthattouchmorethanhewantedtoadmit,sotodistracthimself,Wellsstudiedtheirfellowpartygoers.
Hedidn’texpecttorecognizeanyone,sohewasmorethanalittleshockedwhenhespottedafamiliarface.BronwynDavies
wasamemberofoneofCardiff’smostinfluentialwitchfamilies,aprettyblondeSimonhadoncehopedWellsmightbebetrothed
to.She’ddecidednottomarryanyone,asfarasWellsknew,andhehadn’tseenherinages.Whatwasshedoinghere?

Andthere,nearthelargebaywindow,herecognizedConnellThomas,anotherWelshwitchhe’dknownbrieflyatPenhaven.
“Isthissupposedtobeareunion?”Gwynmurmured,andwhenhelookedoverather,shegesturedwithherglass.
“ThesearePenhavenwitches,”shesaid.“Fromouryear.Andwhatwould’vebeenyouryear,Iguess,ifyou’dstayed.”
She’dbarelyfinishedhersentencebeforetherewasasqueal,andatallbrunettewascrossingtheroom,armsspreadwide.“GwynnevereJones!”shecried,andGwynsmiledback,lettingherselfbepulledintothewoman’sembrace.“Hi,Rosa,”shesaid,andasshepulledback,shenoddedatWells.
“YourememberLlewellynPenhallow.Ormaybeyoudon’t,Idon’tknow.Heisn’tallthatmemorable,really.”
RosalaughedatthatevenasWellsshotGwynalookbeforeofferinghishandtoRosa.
“It’sWells,andit’slovelytomeetyou.”
“Oh,Irememberyou,”Rosaallbutpurred,herdarkeyesbrightasshesmiledathim,andthoughhecouldn’tbecertain,he
thoughtGwyn’sshouldersmighthavestiffenedjustthetiniestbit.

Bitingbackanunattractiveamountofsmugness,WellssmiledbackatRosa.“I’mafraidIwassomethingofanidiotduring
mybrieftimeatPenhaven.That’stheonlyexcuseIcanthinkoffornotrememberingyou.”

Rosagaveapleasedchuckle,andWellswasverysureGwynwasnowgrittingherteeth.
“Well,we’reallreunitednow,”Rosasaid.Wellswasn’tsurehowexactlyshemadesuchinnocuouswordssoundso…promising,
butthereyouhadit.

Slingingbacktherestofherchampagne,Gwynturnedtothetwoofthem,smilefixedinplace.“Iwillleaveyoutwotoget
reacquaintedwhileIgofindMorganandsayhello.”

Wellswatchedherretreatingback—andtheeyesofeveryothermanandquiteafewwomenintheroomdidthesame.
“Shewasalwayssomething,”Rosasaid,thennoddedinGwyn’sdirectionincaseWellshadmissedhermeaning.“Gorgeousandsmartandpowerful.Icouldn’tbelieveitwhenIheardshestayedinthisPodunktown,sellingcheaptchotchkestothehumans.Such
awaste.”

Wellsclenchedhisjaw,hisfingersgoingtightaroundhischampagneflute.“Andyet,”hesaid,thewordsclipped,“it’sher
magiccurrentlyfuelingthistown.Andfrankly,evenifitweren’t,thelifeMs.Joneshasbuiltforherselfherehardlyseems
wastefultome.Herstoreisalovelyplacethatbringshappinesstoeveryonewhoentersit.Weshouldallbesoluckyto
providesuchathing.Now,ifyou’llexcuseme.”

HemovedawayfromRosa,herlipsslightlypartedinsurprise,andplungeddeeperintotheparty.
Awaste.
Ifthattermappliedtoanyone,itwashim.Spendinghistimedoinghisfather’sbidding.No,whatGwynhaddonewasuseher
magicinawaythatmadeherandthoseshecaredabouthappy.Thatwasdownrightbloodynoblewhenyouthoughtaboutit.

Pausinginfrontofatablesetupwithtinyplatesofcanapés,Wellssighed.
Makingupexcusestotouchherandnowdefendingherhonorinpublic.Hetrulywasahopelesscase.
Glancingaroundnow,hetriedtospotGwyn’sredhair,butshewasnowheretobeseen.NeitherwasMorgan,andWellsslipped
outofthedrawingroomintoanotherlonghallway.

Itwasdimanddesertedhere,butthatsensehe’dhadoutsidethehouse,likemagicwaslyinginheavywavesallaround,wasstrongerhere.
Andnotjuststrong.
Wrong.
ThishadalwaysbeenWells’sskillset,sussingoutthetenorofmagic,whatkindofspellwasbeingused,theintentbehind
it.Whateverwashappeninginthishousewasn’tdarkorevil,exactly,butitwasn’tgood,either.Itwaslikeadiscordant
noteinanotherwisebeautifulsymphony,andthefartherhewalkeddownthehall,thestrongeritgot.

Hecametoadoorattheveryendofthehall,rightnexttoaratherlovelylandscapepaintingofmountainsandfieldsthat
remindedhimofhome.

Frombackinthedrawingroom,Wellscouldstillhearthelowmurmurofconversation,andsomeonehadstartedplayingthe
piano.

Lookingaroundhimonemoretime,Wellscurledhisfingersaroundthedoorknob,twistingitslowly.
Thedooropenedsoundlessly,andbreathingasighofrelief,Wellsdartedin,closingthedoorasquietlyashecouldbehind
him.

Alightblazedon,nearlyblindinghim,andhethrewupahandagainsttheglareevenashisheartpoundedhardinhisears.
He’dsayhewaslookingfortheloo.He’dsayhetookawrongturn.He’d—
“Esquire?”Chapter18
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Gwynwhisperedfromastaircaseasshequicklyextinguishedherlightspell,plungingthemback
intoneardarkness.Therewasawindowsomewhereatthetopofthosestairslettinginjustenoughmoonlighttobarelymake
himouttherebythedoor.She’dnearlyhadaheartattackwhenthatdoorhadopened,alreadyplottingexcusesforwhyshe
wasinhere,soshewasrelieveditwasWells.

Andalsosurprised.
Andalsokindofannoyed.
Apparently,mixedfeelingsweregoingtobethenormaroundhim.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Wellscounterednow,andGwynrolledhereyes,gesturingatthestairsinfrontofher.

“Iwasobviouslyabouttogosneakingaroundbecausesomethingaboutthisplaceis—”
“Extremelyoff-puttinganddubiousinnature,yes,”Wellsreplied,andGwynsteppedbackalittle,thebanisterpressinginto
herhip.

“Iwasgoingtosay‘superfuckingcreepyandsus,’butIguessthat’stechnicallythesamething,yeah.”
Theystoodthereforamoment,staringateachotherwhileGwynattemptedtocometogripswiththefactthatA)sheandEsquire
wereagreeingonsomething,B)whateverwasupwithMorganandthishouse,hefeltit,too,andC)hejustsmelled…really,
reallygood.

TellingherselfthatCverymuchdidnotmatterrightnow,Gwynturnedherattentionbacktothestairs.
“Whydidyoucomeuphere?”sheaskedWells,keepinghervoiceloweventhoughshecouldstillhearthesoundsoftheparty
intheotherroom.“Like,whythisdoorspecifically?”

“I’massumingthesamereasonyoudid,”hesaidashebracedonehandonthestairwellwall.“Whateveritisthatwe’reboth
pickingupon,itseemstobeemanatingfromthisarea.”

Gwynnoddedevenasshewrinkledherbrow,lookingupintotheloomingdarknessaheadofthem.“Youknow,Iwould’vethought
Morganmightbealittlemoreoriginalthanthis.Ifyou’regoingtodosomekindofdarkmagic,don’tdoitinthemostobvious
placeinthewholehouse,right?‘Ooh,Iknow,I’llraisedemonsorwhateverinaterrifyingattic!’”

“Ifeellikeyoumightbestallingabit.”
“Iammostdefinitelystallingabit,”Gwynrepliedonasigh.Honestly,couldn’therwitcherygobacktomostlyinvolving
teaandpaint?Didshehavetokeepriskingspiderwebsinherhair?

Shestartedtomakeherwayupthestairs,butWellsstoppedherwithahandonherarm,thatsignetringofaweightshecouldfeeleventhroughthefabricofherdress.“I’llgofirst,”hetoldher,andGwynraisedhereyebrows.
“Esquire,I’mshocked!Isn’t‘LadiesFirst’asacredruleofetiquette?”
“Normally,yes,”hesaid,notrisingtothebait.“Butitdoesseemlikebadformtoinsistonitwhensaidladymightbe
thefirsttowalkdirectlyintosomekindofmagicaltrap.”

“Gallant,”Gwynallowed.“Butunnecessary.”
Withthat,sheturned,makingherwaygingerlyupthesteps.Theycreakedunderfootassherosehigherandhigher,Wellsa
solidpresenceatherback,andGwyntoldherselfitwasnervesmakinghermouthsuddenlydry.

Thestairsended,openingontoaloomingdarkspace,thatonewindowprovidingalittlebitoflightbutnotnearlyenough.
Gwyncouldmakeoutaplankfloorandseveralhulkingshapesbutnothingelse,soliftingherfingers,shewenttosummon
upaballoflightagain.

Earlier,ithadworkedfine,butnow,therewasasortoffizzleofsparksfromthetipsofherfingers,andthatwasit.
“Problem?”Wellsasked,andsheshookherhead,wigglingherfingersagain,waitingtofeelthemagiccoursethroughher.
Itwasthere,shecouldsenseit,but…sluggish.JustlikethatnightatVivi’s.

Maybeit’swhatevermagicMorganhasgoingoninhere,shetoldherself,maybeit’sblockingme.
Butthatthoughtdidn’tmakeherfeelanybetter.
Oncewasafluke.
Twotimes?Thatwasthestartofapattern,andoneshedidnotlikeatall.
“It’sprobablythemagicinthishouse,”Wellssaid,andsheglancedbackathim.Hewaswatchingherhand,browslightly
furrowed,buthewasn’tattemptingalightspellofhisown.Hewaswaitingonhertogetittogether.

Thatwas…sweet.Respectful.
Ugh.
Pushingthosedisturbinglysquishyfeelingsaside,Gwynconcentratedonherspell,andafteramoment,therewasasortof
sputteringnoise,andtheballoflightflaredtolife,hoveringjustbesideher.

“Welldone,Jones,”Wellsmurmured,andGwyngaveasatisfied—andrelieved—nod.
“Figuredweneededtoseewhatweweredoing,”shesaid,butthenshereallylookedaroundandkindofwishedthelightspell
hadn’tworked.

Therestofthehousewaselegantifalittle—okay,alot—overthetop.Buttheattic?
Theatticwasdownrightspooky.
Paintingswerestackedhaphazardlyagainstonewall,allofthem,asfarasGwyncouldtell,depictingsomedarkandhorrible
momentsinwitchcrafthistory.Burnings,drownings,eviscerations.

Heavyblacktrunkswithrustedlockswereclusteredinagrouptowardthecenteroftheroom,andtherewasapileofwhatappearedtobethumbscrewsjustbeneaththewindow.Shelveswithdustybottleslinedthebackwall,andwhenGwynmovedclosertothose,afigureloomedoutofthedarkness,makingheryelpandjumpbackbeforenoticingthatitwasn’taperson,itwasa…
“Isthatanironmaiden?”sheasked,staringinfascinatedhorrorattheperson-sizemetalforminfrontofher.
“Bloodyfuckinghell,”Wellsmuttered,comingtostandnexttoherandexaminethethinghimself,hishandsinhispockets
asherockedbackonhisheels.

“StrongwordsfromEsquire,”Gwynreplied,andhelookedoverather,hisexpressionwry.
“Warranted,wouldn’tyousay?”
“Oh,fuckyeah,”shereplied,andtherewasabriefflashofwhiteteethinthatdarkbeard,aGenuineEsquireSmile,which
madeherwanttosayotherthingsthatmightmakehimsmilelikethatagain.

Butgiventhatthey’dapparentlysteppedintoHellraiser’slair,nowprobablywasn’tthetimeforjokes.
Instead,Gwyngesturedaroundthemandsaid,“Doyouthinkwe’rejustpickinguponbadvibesfromthisstuff?Becausethe
vibesinherearedefinitelybad.Vibecheckthoroughlyfailed.”

“Idon’treallyknowwhatthatmeans,”Wellssaidslowly,“butIthinkIgetthegist,andyes,that’sdefinitelypossible.”
Thenhefrowned.“Butwhyhaveacollectionlikethisatall?”
Wellsturnedmorefullytowardher,thelightfromherspellplayingoverhisface,hisgazeserious.“Howwelldidyouknow
Morganatuniversity?”

“Wewerefriends,”Gwynsaid,“butnotsuperclose.Itwas…Idon’tknow,acollegefriendship.Wehadalotofthesameclasses,atelunchtogetherinthedininghallsometimes,hadaslightlydrunkenmake-outatanOstaracelebration.”Sheshrugged.“Youknow.College.”
Wellsstaredatherforabeatandthensaid,“Right.Okay.Allofthatis…right.”Thenheshookhisheadslightly,
turningbacktostudythepaintingsagainstthewall.“Didsheseeminterestedinthissortofthingbackthen?”

“ShedidnothaveancienttorturedevicesinherdormroomasfarasIrecall,no,”Gwynreplied,shiveringalittleasshe
lookedbackoverattheironmaiden.“Butthen,weweren’tinthatmanyclassestogetheraftersophomoreyear.Iwasmajoring
inPracticalMagic,andshewasdoing…Idon’tremember.Oneoftheweirderones,likeRitualWitchcraft,Ithink.And
thenoursenioryear—”

Gwynstopped,andWellsturnedbacktoher.“Thenwhat?”
She’dforgottenaboutituntiljustnow,hadneverreallythoughtaboutit,notevenwhenMorganhadreappeared,butnow,
amemoryresurfaced.“Sheleft,”Gwynsaid,thinking.“Inthemiddleofourlastsemester.LikeIsaid,weweren’tclose,
andbythatpoint,Ihardlyeversawher,butIrememberoneofmyfriendstellingmeahandfulofstudentswereaskedto
leaveforsomereason.Shedidn’tknowwhy,itwasallkindofsecretive,andI’vegottabehonest,Iwasn’ttoointerested
initsinceitdidn’tseemallthatscandalous.Imean,‘askedtoleave’isnotexactlyexpelled,right?”

Wellsrubbedahandoverhischin,consideringallthatasGwynrackedherbrain,tryingtocomeupwithanyotherdetails.Butithadbeenadecadeago,andlikeshesaid,shehadn’tpaidallthatmuchattentiontoitatthetime.
Sheglancedaroundheragain.
Clearly,sheshouldhave.
“Iwonderifanyofthoseotherstudentsareheretonight,”Wellsmused,andGwynlookedbacktowardthestairs.
“Ican’trememberhowmanyofthemitwas.Maybefive?ButRosa,shewasdefinitelyoneofthem.”
“Hmm,”wasWells’sonlyresponse,andGwynturnedbacktohim,huggingherselfagainstthechillintheattic.
“Whatareyouthinkingwiththatthinkyface?”
Hedroppedhishand,browsdrawingtogether.“Allright,isthatanAmericansaying,orisitjustuniquetothisplace?”
heasked,andbeforeshehadtimetoaskwhathemeant,heshookhishead,wavingitoff.“Nevermind.BeforeIcamehere,
IhadavisitfrommybrotherBowen.”

“WerewolfBrother,”Gwynsaid,nodding,andWellsnarrowedhiseyesatherslightlybeforeconceding,“Thebeardisalot.
Inanycase,hetoldmethatwhenaplacelikeGravesGlen,somewherewithliteralmagicrunningthroughit,undergoesthe
kindoftransformationthatthistowndidlastyear,itcanmakeitakindofmagnetforotherwitcheswhomightnothave
thebestintentions.”

Well,nothingaboutthatsoundedgood.
Still,Gwynhadtoadmititmadesense.Magicwasunpredictableandvolatile,andshecouldseewheresomethingasmassiveasachangeinpowerwouldpingsomekindofwitchyradar.
“AndyouthinkthatmightbewhyMorganhassuddenlyshownup?”
“IthinkweneedtofindoutexactlywhyshewasaskedtoleavePenhaventenyearsago,”hereplied,andGwyngrinnedathim.
“Sowe’regoingtobedetectives,huh?Magicaldetectives.”

“Iwouldn’tgoquitethatfar,”hereplieddryly,thennoddedinthedirectionofthestairs.“Andweshouldprobablyget
backtothatpartybeforesomeonenoticeswe’regone.”

Gwynfollowedhimdownthestairs,twistingherfingersasshedid,thelightspellvanishing.“JonesandEsquire,Magical
Detectives,”shemused,andhethrewheradarklookoverhisshoulder.

“PenhallowandJones.”
“JonesandPenhallow.”
“Penhallow,fullstop.”
“JonesandSon.”
Wellsstoppedjustatthebottomofthestairsandturnedtoher,headtiltedslightlytoonesidebeforehisexpressioncleared.
“Ah.Thecat.”

“SirPurrcivalwouldbeanassettoanycase.”
Hesnortedatthatandhadjustreachedthebottomstep,Gwyncomingtostandbesidehim,whentheyheardfootsteps.
Voices.
Very,veryclosevoices.
Andnowthefootstepshadstoppedoutsidethedoor,andyes,thatwasdefinitelyMorgansaying,“I’veactuallybeenstoringituphere.”
Therewasn’tanytimetothink,butGwynhadalwayspreferredtobeawomanofaction.
TurningtofaceWells,shegrabbedthelapelsofhisjacketandyankedhimclose.
“Whatin—”hestarted,butbeforehecouldsayanythingelse,shepressedhermouthtohis.Chapter19
Rhiannon’stits.
Wellshadspentthepastcoupleofweekstellinghimselfthatkissinthecellarhadnotbeenasgoodasherememberedit,
thatithadrattledhimsomuchsimplybecausehehadn’tkissedawomaninagesbeforethat.

ButasGwyn’slipspartedunderneathhis,heunderstoodthatsuchthinkinghadbeendeeply,deeplystupid.
No,thatkisshadbeensobloodydevastatingbecauseshewassobloodydevastating,andhewasinveryserioustroublenow.

NotthatWellsgaveaflyingfuck.
Hishandslandedonherhips,thematerialofthatdress—thatdress;he’dnearlyswallowedhistonguewhenhe’dseenheroutsidethehousethisevening—justassoftashe’dthoughtitwould
be.Better,though,thewarmthofherskinmakingthefabricevenmoretouchable,evenmoreirresistible,andWellscouldn’t
helpthesoundhemade,lowinhisthroat,ashepulledhercloser.

Therationalpartofhisbrain,thepartthatrememberedshewasonlykissinghimsothattheyhadplausibledeniabilityforskulkingaround,wasquicklybeingoverwhelmedbythatdarker,moreprimalpartofhimthatonlysheseemedtobringout.
Andmaybehebroughtsomethingoutinher,too,becauseshewaspushingclosertohim,herarmstwiningaroundhisneck,her
breaststightagainsthischest,andhertongue—

“Oh!Sorryaboutthat!”
Theatticstairsweresuddenlyilluminatedbyabrightrectangleoflightasthedooropened,afiguresilhouettedthere.
GwynpulledawayandittookeverythinginWellsnottochasehermouthwithhisown,butthenshepressedherpalmagainst
hischest,givingabreathlesslaughassheturnedtofaceMorgan.

“Ohgod,we’resorry,”shesaid,thenlookedbackatWells,tuggingherlowerlipbetweenherteethandgivingtheimpressionofsomeone
whowasgenuinelyalittlesheepish.Performanceofalifetime,clearly,becausehedoubtedGwynnevereJoneshadeverbeen
sheepishinherlife.

“Wewerejustadmiringyourgorgeoushouse,andIthinkthatverylovelywineyouservedmust’vegottentous,”Gwyncontinued,lettingherarmdrapenaturallyaroundWells’sshouldersas
herestedhispalmonherhip,fightingtheurgetocurlhisfingerstighter,tobringherrightupagainsthim.

Morganlookedatthem,herdarkeyestakingineverything,Wellswasprettysure,andevenasshesmiled,therewasabrittleness
toit.Wasitsimplybecauseshe—sensibly—wasnotahugefanofpeoplesnoggingeachother’sfaceoffintheprivateareas
ofherhome,orwasitsomethingmore?Wasittodowithwhatshehaduphereintheattic?

“Itwasappallinglyrudeofus,Morgan,”Wellsoffered,maneuveringGwyndownthelaststepandwonderingifhecouldchannelRhysenoughtocharmhiswayoutofthis.
Morganjustwavedahand.“No,no,notatall!I’mjustsurprised.”
SheturnedthatdarkgazeonWells.“Ididaskyouifthetwoofyouweretogether.Don’ttellmeyouliedtome,Llewellyn
Penhallow.”

Lyingseemedafarlessersinthancollectingdarkmagicalartifacts,butwhatdidheknow?
“It’snew,”Gwynofferednow,herfingerstighteningjustthelittlestbitonhisshoulderasthoughshecouldsensewhat
hewantedtosay.

“Very,verynew,”Wellsconfirmed,pattingherhiplightly.
Messagereceived.
Hergriploosenedabit,andshegesturedtowardthedoor.“Andhi!You’re…”
Forthefirsttime,WellsrealizedtherewassomeonestandingjustbehindMorgan,amanaroundthesameageasallofthem,
blondhairscrapedseverelybackfromarathernarrowface.

“HarrisonPhelps,”hesaid,offeringhishandtoshake.“AndweactuallykneweachotherbackatPenhaven.You’reGwynJones.”
“Oh,right!”Gwynsaidbrightly,butWellshadafeelingshehadnoideawhothismanwas.
“AndLlewellynPenhallow,”Harrisoncontinued,shakingWells’shandnext.“Wenevermet,butofcourseIknewyoubyreputation.”
WhetherHarrisonmeanthisfamily’sreputationorthebriefbitofgloryWellshadmanagedtobringonhimselfatPenhaven,hewasn’tsure,buthenoddedall
thesame,givingthemanatightsmile.

“Quitethereunionyou’veputtogether,Morgan,”Gwynsaid,andMorgansmiled,herteethverywhiteagainstthoseredlips.
“Iwasfeelingnostalgic,Iguess,”shesaid.“Anditseemedliketherighttimetorevisitoldfriends.Oldhaunts.”
WellswasabouttoaskwhythatwaswhenMorgansaid,“Now,ifthetwoofyouwillexcuseus,IhadsomethingIwantedto
showHarrisonintheattic.”

Lookingbetweenthetwoofthem,hersmilestillfixedfirmlyinplace,sheasked,“Didthetwoofyouheadupthere?”
Wellshadtohandittoher—shedidadecentjobofkeepingthatquestionlight,buttherewassomethinginhereyeshedidn’t
like,somethingthatmadeitclearshewanted,needed,perhaps,theanswertobeno.

“Ohgod,no,”Gwynsaid,laughingalittleandraisingonehandtohercheek.“Tobehonest,we’reluckywegotthedoorclosed
behindusbeforewe…well.”

Shesmirkedalittle,cheeksstillflushed,andWellsfeltthetipsofhisearsgohot,whichwasridiculous.Hewasagrown
man,andthey’donlybeenkissing,butsheputsomuchsuggestionintothat“well”thathewashalfhardjustfromonebloody
syllable.

Notjustridiculous,pathetic.
Wellssteppedoutofthestairwell,Gwynjustbehindhim,andgaveMorganalittlenodashesaid,“Andonthatnote,Ithinkwe’lltakeourleave.”
UntilhefiguredoutjustwhatMorganandherfriendshadbeenkickedoutofPenhavenCollegefor,itseemedsafertospend
aslittletimeintheircompanyaspossible,plusthemagicinthisplacewasstartingtomakehisheadache,atensionbuilding
betweenhisshoulderblades,adullsortofweightbehindhiseyes.Thequickertheygotoutofhere,thebetter.

“NormallyI’dbesaying‘leavingsosoon?’butinthiscase,I’llallowit,”Morgansaidwithawink,andGwynonceagain
movedtoWells’sside.Itwasalittlealarminghowmuchheenjoyedthatandhownaturalitfelttoonceagainslideanarm
aroundher.

“Let’sgettogethernextweek,”shesaidtoMorgan.“I’dlovetocatchup.”
“Ofcourse,”Morganpracticallytrilled,butWellsdidn’tmissthewayhereyesweregoingtotheatticagainorthenervous
energyradiatingoffHarrison.

Yes,somethingwasdefinitelyafoothere.
Gwynwasn’tsureshe’deverbeensohappytoleaveaparty,andgiventhatshe’doncehadtogotoaweddingreceptionwhere
boththebrideandthegroomwereherexes,thatwassayingsomething.

“Canyouactuallydiefromacaseoftheheebie-jeebies?”sheaskedWellsastheysteppedoutontothefrontporch.Shestillhadherhandlooselyinhis,partoftheirwhole“We’reacouple!”schtick,asthey’dmadetheirwayoutoftheparty,buttherewasnoonearoundouthere,sonoreason,really,tokeepholdinghands.
Buthewasn’tlettinggoandneitherwassheandnow,astheywalkeddownthefrontsteps,shelethergazelingerforjust
asecondonhisprofileinthemoonlight,thatsharpnoseandstrongjaw,andwhyinthenameofallthatwasholyhadshe
kissedhimagain?

Itwasthebestexcuseforwhyy’allwerebeingsneaky!Anditworked!
Butevenasherbrainofferedupthoseverytrueandfactualfacts,Gwynknewitwasn’tquitethatsimple.
Andnowthatsheknewthatkissinthecellar,magicfueledorno,hadn’tbeensomekindofFreakofKissingNature,shewasn’t
surehowshewassupposedtospendtimewithhimandnotwanttokisshim.

Which,giventhattheyhadWitchyDutiestofulfilltogether,wasaprettymajorissue.
Fornow,though,Gwynletherhandcasuallydropfromhis,crossingthelawntowherehertruckwasparked.
ThatshinyBMWofhiswasjustbehindher,andtheypausedforamoment,Wellsthrustinghishandsintothepocketsofhis
coat.

“So,”hesaid,clearinghisthroatandshootingherasidewaysglancebrieflybeforelookingsomewhereinthemiddledistance.
“Firststep,findoutwhyMorganandtheotherswereaskedtoleavePenhaven.Icanattemptthatonmyown,oryoucould,really,there’snoreasonforustoteamuponthiswhenyou—”

“Thisdoesn’thavetobeweird,”Gwyninterrupted,leaningagainstthebackofhertruck,andheswunghisheadbackaround
tofaceheragain.“It’sonlyweirdifwemakeitweird.”

Wellstiltedhishead.“Iwasn’tmakingitweird.Ithinkyou’remakingitweirdbysuggestingwenotmakeitweird.”
Thenhefrowned.“Ireallywanttostopsaying‘weird’now.”
Gwynlaughedatthat,tuckingherhairbehindherearevenasshewatchedhimfromthesideofhereye.Shereallydidlaugh…
kindofalotwithWells.Andthat,weirdly,seemedsomehowevenmoredangerousthanacoupleofgoodkisses.

Butfornow,sheshookherhairbackoffhershouldersandsaid,“Look,itmakesmoresensetoworkonthistogether.Otherwise
we’llspendallourtimelookingintothesamestuff,thentellingtheotherwhatwefoundout,andhavingtobe,like,‘Yeah,
Ialreadyknewthat,’andbythen,MorganandherfriendsmighthaveopenedupaHellmouthorsomething.”

“Youdohaveawayofgettingtotheheartofthings,Jones,”hesaidwithaslightsmile,andGwyngrinnedathim.
“It’smyspecialty.Andyes,Igetthekissingthingmakesitalittleawkward,butit’snotlikewewantedtokisseachother.Firstkiss?”Sheliftedupherthumb.“Magicspell.Secondkiss?”Sheliftedhersecondfinger.“Atactical
strategytogetusoutofastickyspot.”

Wigglingtherestofthefingersofthathand,Gwynadded,“ThewayIseeit,unlessweendupinsomekindofweirdsituation
wherewehavetokisstosavetheworldoroneofusneedstogivetheotherCPR,Ithinkwecanavoideachother’smouthwhiletryingtoprotectGravesGlen.”
Gwynwasproudofherselfforhowsensibleshesounded,howcompletelyunbothered.
Heck,she’dpresentedsuchagoodcase,shealmostbelievedit.

WhetherornotWellsdid,shehadnoidea.Hisexpressionwasneutral,anditwastoodarktoreadhiseyes.
“Sowe’reagreed,”Gwynwenton.“Thisisajointeffort.”
Wellssighedandlookedupattheskyforamomentbeforefinallynodding.“Agreed.PenhallowandJonesitis.”
“JonesandEsquire.”
Butshesmiledasshesaidit,andwhenhedid,too,shefeltherpulsekickup.“Shallweshakeonthisaswell?”heasked,
leaningbackagainsthisowncar.“Or,giventhatwe’dinformallyagreedtoworktogetherintheattic,maybethatkisswas
meanttosealthedealasitwere?”

Gwynwetherlips,notmissingthewayhiseyesdroppedtofollowthemovement.“Thatkiss,”shesaid,tryingnottosound
asturnedonasshefelt,“wasadistractionforMorganandthecreepyventriloquistdollshe’sapparentlymagickedintoa
realliveboy.”

Wellschuckled,andeventhatlowsoundwasenoughtohaveherclenchingherfingersinherskirtsothatshewouldn’tdo
somethingcrazylikestepforwardandtouchhim.

Buthestraightenedup,hisstarenotquiteasintensenow,themoodbroken.
“Fairenough,”hesaid,turningawayandopeninghiscardoor.
Gwynwentaroundtothedriver’ssideofhertruckandwasjustunlockingitwhenWellssaid,“Ediblebodyglitter.”
Gwyn’skeyscratchedtheredpaintnearthehandle,missingthelockcompletely.
“Excuseme?”
Wellswasstillstandingthere,hiscardooropen,hisarmrestingalongthetopofitashewatchedher.“That’swhatwas
inthatbag.Theonethatfellonus,”hesaid,andGwynfeltsomethingunsettlinglyswoopyinherstomachasshestraightened
up,keysstillclutchedinherhand.

“Therewasamix-up,”hewenton,“andIgotaboxfromsomeplacecalledthePleasurePalace.”
Gwynshouldhavehadajokeforthat.Thatwastheperfectsetupforajoke,butallshecoulddowasstareatWellsashestaredback.

“You’remakingthatup,”shefinallysaid,andeventhoughshecouldn’tmakeouthisexpression,shecouldpracticallyhearhisquirkedeyebrow.

“DoyoureallythinkI’dmakeup‘thePleasurePalace’?”
Shehadtoadmitthatwasunlikely,butherkissingWellsthatnightjustbecauseshe’dwantedtowentpastunlikelyandintoinconceivableterritory,soshehadtopressit.

“Itstillhadtobeaspell,”sheinsisted.“Maybe…maybeonegotinthereaccidentally,and—”
“Oh,Ithoughtthat,too,forabit.Hoped,even.ButIpromiseyou,thereisnothingmagicalatallaboutPixieLicks.It’s
just—”

“Ediblebodyglitter,”shefinishedforhim,andhenodded.
“QED.”
Anotherperfecttimeforajoke,butnothingwascomingtoher,nothingbutakindofwhooshingnoiseinherbrain,because
ithadtohavebeenaspellthatnight.She’dbeenoutofhermindwithwantinghim,andupuntilthatverysecond,shehadn’tgiven
asinglethoughttoWellsFreakingPenhallowinanykindofsexysense.

Except…
ThatmomentatTheCiderShack.AndhowhelookedbehindthecounteratPenhallow’s.Andahundredotherlittlemomentsthat
werenowflashingthroughhermind.

“So,”Wellssummedup,clearinghisthroatagain.“WhileIcan’tdisagreethattonight’skisshadanulteriormotive,I’m
afraidthatfirstonewasinfactreal.”

Shewisheditweren’tsodark,wishedshecouldseehisfacemoreclearlybecauseitsuddenlyseemedveryimportanttoknow
howhewaslookingather.

Swallowinghard,Gwyntightenedhergriponherkeys.“I’ll…takethatintoaccountthenexttimeI’mcalculatingKiss
RisksforJonesandEsquire,”sheofferedweakly.

Hemadethatsoundhesometimesdid,thatsortofhuffthatwasn’tquitealaughbutwascloseenough.“Youdothat,”hetold
her.“Goodnight,Gwyn.”

Andthenhedroveoff,leavingGwynstandingthere,stillholdingherkeys.Chapter20
Itwas,WellsreflectedthefollowingMonday,somewhatdistressingtohavefinallytakenthecrownofFamilyJackassfrom
Rhys.

Hisyoungestbrotherhadhadsuchagoodrun,afterall,butbytellingGwynaboutthenot-actually-a-spelllovespell,Wells
nowhadnodoubthewasfirmlyinthelead.BowenwasgoingtohavetoaccidentallyblowupSnowdoniatohaveachance.

Wellsstillcouldn’tsayexactlywhyhe’ddoneitexceptthattherehadbeensomethingabouthowdismissiveshekeptbeing
aboutthewholethingthathadrankled.Heknewshe’dbeenjustasaffectedbythosekissesashehad,hadfeltitinthe
wayherbodyhadmoldedagainsthis,theboldnessofhertongue,herlips.Somaybehe’dwantedhertoacknowledgethator,
attheveryleast,dealwiththesameconfusionandvaguesenseofalarmhe’dfelteversinceRhyshadhandedhimthatblasted
bagandlaughedhimselfsenseless.

Inthecoldlightofday,however,Wellswasn’tsurethathadbeenthebestidea.Surelyitwouldhavebeenbettertoletitlie,toletherbelievethatitwasnothingmorethanastupidbitofmagicandmoveon.Gwynmightbeattractedtohim,butitseemedprettycleartoWellsshehadnointerestinactuallypursuingthatattraction,andbesides,thingswerecomplicatedenough.Hercousin—whomightaswellhavebeenasister—wasmarriedtohisbrother,theywerealllivinginthesametown,andtheywereallinvolvedinthetown’switchcraftinonewayoranother.Noneofthosetieswereeasilybroken.
Whatiftheywentonafewdates,andthis…whateveritwasbetweenthemfizzledoutalmostimmediately?He’dbestuck
seeinghereveryday,itwouldputRhysandhisVivienneinanawkwardposition,andthisrathernicenewlifeWellshadbuilt
forhimselfwouldgoupinsmoke.

Andifitdidn’tfizzleout…

WellshadnoideahowhisfatherwouldreacttotwoofhissonsbeinginvolvedwiththewomenhenowconsideredthePenhallows’mortalenemies,andfranklyshudderedtothink
ofit.

Simonhadcalledjustthenightbefore.Well,“called”meaninghe’dshownupinthescryingmirrorWellshadbroughtwith
himspecificallyforthatpurpose.Ithadn’tbeenthelongestconversation,butSimonhadmanagedtoaskabout“theJones
women”atleastthreetimes.WellshadremindedhisfathertherewascurrentlyonlyoneJoneswomanintown,andthenhe’d
liedandsaidhedidn’tseemuchofher.

Tohissurprise,hisfatherhadn’tlikedthat.“Itmakessensetokeepyourenemiesclose,Llewellyn,”he’dsaid,andWells
hadbarelyrefrainedfromrollinghiseyes.

“She’snotmyenemy,Da,”he’dsaid,andSimonhadgrumbledagainaboutlegacyandmagicand“allthePenhallowshavedoneforthattown,”whichhadgivenWellsagoodopeningtoaskifhisfatherhadeverheardofanywitchesbeingkickedoutofPenhavenCollege.
ButSimonhadwavedthatoff.“Thecollegeisnamedafterourhome,butI’vestayedoutofitsbusinesseversincetheyintroduced
thoseridiculousclasses.TeaLeavesandthelike.”He’dsnorted.“Rubbish.”

Wellshadn’tactuallyexpectedhisfathertobehelpful,sohe’dendedthecallwithapromiseto“keepaneyeonthings,”
anddidn’tbothermentioningMorganorhissuspicions.

Nexthe’dtriedtheinternet,andwhilehefoundsomehintsofMorgan’spast—areviewleftonthewebsiteofamagicalshop
inRome,hernameonalistofdonorstoasecondaryschoolinLondon—therewasn’tmuchelse.Thatdidn’tsurprisehimas
mostwitchestriedtostayundertheradar.

He’dthenspentsometimeflippingthroughvariousspellbooksinthehouse,wonderingiftherewasanykindofclarityspell
thatmightgivehimtheanswerevenasheknewthatwouldbetricky.Pullingoutinformationsomeonedidn’twantyoutoknow
wasdefinitelyonthedarkersideofmagic,so,ashe’dsuspected,aspelllikethatinvolvedcomplicatedingredientsthat
weren’teasilyonhand.Thefingerboneofamanhangedfortreason,abowlofwaterfromaspringthathaddrieduponehundred
andonedaysbefore,and,maybemostdisturbingly,aneyeball.

Didn’tspecifywhetherithadtocomefrommanorbeast,butineithercase,Wellsdecidedmagicwasn’tgoingtobethewayonthisone.
Still,sincethingswereslowatPenhallow’sthisafternoon,hewasflippingthroughsomeotherbookshekeptthereinthe
shop,hopinghemightcomeacrossanotherspellthatwouldworkandinvolvefarlessbodyparts.

He’djustlandedononethatlookedpromising—although“pieceoflacefromadrownedbride’sveil”wasdefinitelygoingto
presentachallenge—whenthebelloverthedoorrang.

Hehadn’tseenGwynsinceFridaynight,anditseemedprettycertaintohimthatshe’dsomehowspentthepasttwodaysgetting
evenlovelier.Herhairfellaroundherfaceinlongredwaves,thatpinkstreakfadedabitbutstillverymuchinevidence,
andshewaswearingsomesortoflongblacksweateroverleggings,anotheritemofclothingthatheknewwouldbeunbearably
softunderneathhishands.

Notthathewasgoingtogettofindout,ofcourse.
Butitwasmorethanthat.Herfacewasglowing,hersmilebright,andthat,thatwaswhathadhimfeelingalittlelight-headed,ifhewashonest.

“BabyWitchestotherescue!”sheannounced,andonlynowdidWellsrealizetherewerethreepeoplecrowdinginbehindher,
allofthemlookingequallyexcited.

“Comeon,”Gwyntoldthem,wavingthemtowardthecounter.“Tellhimwhatyoutoldme.”
Sam,thegirlwithturquoisehair,spokeupfirst.“SoGlindawastellingushowyou’retryingtofindoutaboutsomeonegettingkickedoutofPenhaven,andIwastellingherthatIdatedthisgirlwhoworksintherecordsdepartment.HernamewasSara,andshewasreallynice,butshewasalso
aPisces,andI’maLeo,so—”

“Youcanskipthatbit,”Gwyntoldher,layingahandonherarm,“muchasitdidenhancetheoriginalstory.”
“Right.”Samnodded.“Anyway,shetoldmethateverystudentwhoeverwenttoPenhavenhasafile.Like,aliteralfile.Nocomputers,honest-to-godpaperoneverysinglestudent.”

Wellsstraightenedup,closinghisbook.“Interesting,”hesaidslowly.Itdidseemlikeitmightbeeasiertogettheirhands—or
atleasttheireyes—onapieceofpaperratherthanhackintoacomputer.

“ThefilesareinthiscabinetinDr.Arbuthnot’soffice,”Samwenton.“Notjustanycabinet,obviously,amagicalonegiven
thatit’sholdingoverahundredyearsofstudents,butitlooksnormal.”

Gwynnodded,crossingherarms.“Isawit,like,amilliontimeswhenIwasatPenhaven.IbasicallylivedinDr.Arbuthnot’s
office.”

WellsknewDr.ArbuthnotwasthecurrentheadofthewitcherydepartmentatPenhaven,andhe’dhadherasateacherforone
classwhenhewasthere,buttherewassomethingelseaboutthatnameringingaveryfaintbell.Somethingthathadhimlooking
atGwynbecause…itfeltlikeitmightinvolvehersomehow?

ButthenSamwashurryingon.“Anyway,allofthisisnotthecrazypart!Well,thecabinetisalittlecrazy,but—”
“Sam!”Caitsaid,grabbingherbytheshouldersandshakingheralittle.“Gettoit!”
“There’snomagiconthecabinet,”Samsaidinarush.“Seriously.Zeroprotectionspellsatall.Sarasaidithadneverbeen
anissuebecausewhowantstogothroughthosefiles?It’sonlypaststudents,notcurrentones.Andnoonehastheballs
tojustwaltzintoDr.Arbuthnot’sofficeandtrytotakeanything.”

“And!”Parkeradded,holdingupafinger.“Dr.Arbuthnot’sofficeisprotectedwithspells.Youcouldn’tbreakinthereifyouwantedto.”

“But,”Gwynsaidnow,throwingalooktoWells,“ifsomeonewerealreadyinheroffice,someonecould,conceivably,getinthat
cabinetandfindMorgan’sfile.Especiallyifthatsomeonewasarespectableandvaluedmemberofthewitchcommunitywho
wouldbecompletelytrustedaloneinthatoffice.”

“Hmm,”Wellssaid,becausehe’dlearnedovertheyearsthatwasagoodreactionwhenyouhadnofuckingcluewhattodoor
say.

Gwyn’sgrinwidened.“We’rebothclosingupearlytoday,Esquire.”Chapter21
“Thisisnevergoingtowork.”
“Itisabsolutelygoingtowork.”
GwynandWellshadbeenhavingaversionofthisdiscussionatleasthalfadozentimessincethey’dlockeduptheirrespective
stores.They’dhaditwhenthey’dbothdrivenupthemountaintotheirhomestogetready(“Idon’tthinkit’sgoingtobe
nearlyassimpleasyouthinkitis.”/“Itistotallygoingtobethatsimple.”).

They’dhaditafterWellshademergedfromhishouse,dressedinthemostformalandsevereoutfitheownedthatwasn’tasetofrobes(“It’sridiculoustothinkwe’lljustbeabletowaltzinthereanddothis.”/“Well,startcountinginthree-quarter
time,Esquire,becausewe’rewaltzing.”).

They’dhaditasthey’ddrivenbacktowardthecollegeinGwyn’struck,BabyWitchescrowdedontothebenchseatintheback
(“Ifwespentalittlemoretimeactuallyplanningthis,wemightseeanyholesinsaidplan.”/“Therearen’tanyholes,
planisflawless.”).

Andnow,asGwynparkedonasidestreetaboutablockfromcampus,sheturnedtoWellsinthepassengerseat.“Justchannelyourdad.Youknow.Authoritative.Snobby.Kindofadick.”
Reachingover,shelaidahandonhisshoulder.“Shouldbeeasy.That’sjustyoucrankedupacoupleofdegrees.”
TheBabyWitcheschortledatthatasWellsglaredather,butGwynjustkeptsmiling,andfinally,Wellsrolledhiseyesand
shethoughtshemighthaveseenthebaresthintofasmirk.

“Fine.Andyou’llbehowfarbehindme?”
“Tenminutes.Maybefifteen.Dependsonhowquicklytheseguyscandotheirthing.”ShegesturedtoSam,Cait,andParker,
allofwhomwerepracticallybouncingwithexcitement,andwhileGwynlovedthatforthem,shewasalsomaybejusttheteeniestbitnervousandmaybeslightlylessconfidentinThePlanthanshe’dinsisted.

ButoncesheandtheBabyWitcheshadcomeupwithit,ithadseemedimperativethattheyputitintoplacerightaway,right
thatsecond.Afterall,thesoonertheyfoundoutwhatMorgan’sbigsecretwas,thesoonertheycouldknowifsheposeda
threattoGravesGlen.

And,okay,yes,maybeGwynhadbeenthinkingofareasontogoandtalktoWellseversinceFridaynight,andthishadfinally
givenhertheperfectexcuse,butshewasn’tgoingtothinktoomuchaboutthatrightnow.

Justlikeshehadn’tbeenthinkingabouthowthatkisshadhadnothingtodowithmagicandeverythingtodowiththefactthatshewasvery,veryintoLlewellynPenhallow,Esquire,apparently.
Sobettertothrowherselfdirectlyintothisratherthanlookatanyofthatupclose.
Wellsreachedup,adjustinghistie.Hewasallinblack,hishairbrushedbackfromhisface,thatsignetringonhisfinger
theonlybitofcolorbesideshisblueeyes.

Itworkedforhim,thislook.Stern,spare.
Sexyashell.
PushingthatthoughtawaywiththeforceofaMacktruck,Gwyncheckedherownreflectionintherearviewmirror.She’dkept
theleggingsandbootsshe’dbeenwearingearlierbutreplacedhersweaterwithanoversizeT-shirtthatscreamedFLY,MYPRETTIES!inviolentgreenprint,andoverthat,she’dthrownonafuzzycardiganinthatsamegreen,apairofsparklypurplebrooms
danglingfromherears.

EvenforGwyn,itwasabitmuch,butlikeWells,shehadaroletoplaythisafternoon.
“SoI’lljusttakethisfileoutofthecabinetandhopeshenevernotices?”Wellsaskednow.“Shoveitinsidemyjacket?”
“That’stheplan,”Gwynreplied,butParkerleanedupfromthebackseat,somethingintheirhand.
“Actually,”theysaid,“Imadethis.”
Itlookedlikeacoin,slightlybiggerthanasilverdollar,andasWellspluckeditfromParker’shand,Gwyncaughtaslight
shimmerfromit,likeoilinwater.

“Touchittothepages,andit’llrecordtheinformation,”Parkersaid.“Thenyoujustputitonanothersheetofpaper,andeverythingthatwasontheoriginalpaperwillappearthere.”
“Thatis…quiteclever,”Wellssaid,holdingthecoinuptothelight,andParkerbeamed.
“Thanks!It’smyowncreation,andIthinkit’llmakebankifIcanmakemoreandstart…”

TheytrailedoffasGwynandWellsbothslowlyturnedaroundtolookatthem,andshrunkbackintotheirseat.“Certainly
notsellingthemaroundcampus,”theyfinishedup,andSamelbowedthemhardintheside.

“Goodtoknow,”Wellssaid,thensighedandopenedthetruck’sdoor.
“Tenminutes,”hesaidtoGwyn,andshenodded.
“Tenminutes.”
Heturnedthen,headinginthedirectionofthecollege,andGwynwaitedabeatbeforethrowingopenherdoor.
“Esquire!”shecalled,joggingafterhim,andhestopped,waitingforher.
Leavesskittereddownthestreet,theafternoonclearbutturningchilly,especiallyhereintheshadebetweenbuildings,
andGwyntuggedhercardigancloseraroundher,shiveringalittle.“IlovemyBabyWitchessomuch,”shetoldWells,“but
Igottabehonestwithyou.There’s…atleastathirtypercentchancethatthingcatchesfireorpossiblyexplodes.”

Wellsstudiedthecoininhishand.“Thirtypercent?”
“Conservativeestimate.”
Helookedup,meetinghereyes,andnowGwynfeltshiveryforawholenewreason.
“Thiswillendindisaster,”hesaid,butshedidn’tthinkhereallymeantitthistime.
“It’sgonnaendintriumph,”sheretorted,andhesighed,slippingthecoinintohispocket.

“Isupposewe’llsee,won’twe?”
“Gloatingisn’tattractive,Jones.”
Gwynlaughed,thumpingherhandonthesteeringwheelasthetruckheadedbacktowarddowntown,afternoonslidingintoevening.
“AllIsaidwasthatIwantedyoutoadmitthatIwasright,andalsototakeoutanadinthepapersayingthatIwasright,
andthentomakeyourselfsomekindofsocialmediapageandhaveyourfirstpostsay,‘GwynJoneswasright,andI,Llewellyn
Penhallow,Esquire,waswrong.’”

ShethoughtWellsmightbetryingtoglareather,butitwasastrugglegiventhathewasclearlyjustaspleasedtheplan
hadworkedasshewas.

Ifanything,ithadworkedevenbetterthanshe’dhoped.

WellshadindeedbeenabletomeetwithDr.Arbuthnotinheroffice,givinghersomestoryabouthisfamilyandwantingto
bemoreinvolvedinthecollegenowthathewasbackintown.

WhenGwynhadburstinten—okay,nearlytwenty—minuteslater,withherfranticstoryaboutseeingsomeofthecollegewitchespracticingaspellthatlookedlikeithadgottenoutofhand,she’dalmostbelievedthehaughtyscowlWellshadthrownherway.
Ithadactuallybeenkindofhot,especiallythewayhiseyeshadmovedoverher,clearlymeaningtoconveyhisdisdainat
heraggressiveoutfitbutcarryingenoughwarmththatGwynwasgladDr.Arbuthnothadbeendistracted.

Dr.Arbuthnothad,ashoped,followedGwynoutoftheroomandtothequad,aspacethatwasglamouredsothattheregular
studentsonlyeversawwhatlookedtobeotherkids,reading,studying,throwingaFrisbee.

TheBabyWitcheshaddonetheirjobalittletoowell,butoncethegapingcrackinthegroundwasclosedandthetreeswent
backtonormal,they’dgottenoffwithafairlylightpunishment(twoweeksofvolunteeringinthedininghall),andGwyn
hadbeenleftalonewithDr.Arbuthnot.

“Thankyou,”herformerteacherhadsaidbeforenarrowinghereyes.“Whywereyouoncampusanyway?”
“IwaspickingupsomethinginVivi’soffice,”Gwynsaid,holdinguptheWelshhistorybookshe’dactuallysnaggedfromthe
cabinearlier.SomeofVivi’sstuffwasstillupthere,andGwynhadknowntheperfectpropwhenshe’dseenit.“Sheneeded
itfortheresearchshe’sdoinginWalesrightnow.”

Dr.ArbuthnotwouldprobablybesuspiciousofGwynuntiloneorbothofthemdied,butshelikedandrespectedVivi,soshe’d
boughtthatexcuse,andwithinminutes,Gwynwasbackinhertruck,waitingforWells.

Shewaitedawhile.
Itwasalmosthalfanhourlaterbeforehecamehurryingupthestreet,andwhenhe’dgotteninthetruckandpulledthefile
folderoutofhissuitjacket(he’dclearlytakenheradviceaboutParker’scoin),GwynhadofficiallybegunTheGloating.

Now,assheturnedtoheadbacktoMainStreet,shenoddedatthefolderstillsittinginWells’slap.“Haveyoulookedat
it?”

“No,Iwasjusthappytofindit,honestly.DoyouknowhowmanyHowellshavegonetoPenhaventhroughtheyears?Didn’twant
toriskhercomingbackandcatchingmewithit,soIjustshoveditinmyjacket.AndthenIhadtositthereandkeepup
theruseaftershewasdonewithwhateveritwasthosethreedid.”

Heglancedtowardthebackseatnow.“Speakingof,wherearethey?”
“Theystayedoncampustodosomestudying,”shesaid,andhenodded,lookingbackatthefile.
“SoshallIopenitnow,ordoyouwanttosaveitforwhenwecanlookatitproperly?”
Shakingherhead,Gwynrolledupherwindow.“Goaheadandcheckitout.”
Wellsflippedthefileopen,hiseyesscanningthepage.“YouwererightabouthermajorbeingRitualWitchcraft.Shewas
agoodstudent,too.AlmostallA’s,commendationsfromherprofessors…”

Gwynsnorted.“Idon’teverwanttolookatmyfile,”shesaid.“Probablyhas‘HERETHEREBEDRAGONS’stampedonitandthat’s
it.”

Wellssmiledatthat,hiseyesstillonMorgan’srecord.“Andminenodoubtsays,‘FUCKEDOFF,’sonorealdesiretolookatthat,either.Ah!”Hetappedthepage.“Herewego.‘Studentadvisedtowithdrawbeforegraduationduetoinappropriateandunseemlymagicalpractices.’”
Wellslookedup,atrioofwrinklesappearingbetweenhisbrows.“Andthat’sit.”
“Thatcouldbeanything,”Gwynsaid,andWellssatback,thinking.
“Anythingbad,”hesaid.“Soatleastweknowthatwhateveritwas,itwasn’tgood.”

Gwynnodded,butshecouldn’thelpbutfeelalittledisappointed.“Thishonestlyfeelslikeawasteofaveryexcellentplan,”
shetoldWells,andhemadethat“Hmm”noiseagain,thatthinghedidwhenhedidn’tknowwhatelsetosay.

Anditbuggedher,justabit,thatshewasalreadystartingtorecognizehissounds.Thefaceshemade.Thewayherubbed
hisbeardwhenhewasthinkinghardaboutsomething.

Nowhereachedupandloosenedhistie,unbuttoningthetopfewbuttonsofhisshirt,andGwynfoughtveryhardtokeepher
eyesontheroad.“SoI’lldropyouoffatyours?”

He’dtakenhiscarfromthestoreearlier,butthey’dleftitbackathishousebeforeheadingtothecollege.Twilighthad
fullyfallen,andGwyndidn’tfeellikeopeningtheshopbackupjustforacoupleofhours.

Butshedidn’treallywanttogohome,either,theexcitementandadrenalinestillcoursingthroughher,nomatterwhata
letdowntheactualfilewas.

Sherolleddownthewindowagain,lettinginthecooleveningair,thesmellofwoodsmokeandleaves.NightslikethisinGravesGlenweremagicalineverysenseofthatword,andasGwyn’struckmadeitsslowwaydownMainStreet,thelightsstrungupalongthesidewalkslitup,reflectingoffthewindshield.
Nexttoher,Wellsrolleddownhisownwindow,leaningbackinhisseat.“Whatagorgeousnight,”hesaid,hisvoicesoft,
andGwynsuddenlyknewexactlywhereshewantedtogo.
Chapter22
DarknesshadfullyfallenbythetimeGwynturnedhertruckdownafamiliardirtroad.Itsnakedbetweenthehills,gnarled
treerootsarchingupfromembankmentsaroundthem.Thewindowswerestillopen,andGwyncouldhearthefainttrickleof
waterasitdrippedfromrockyoutcropsoverhead,thesofthootofanowl,therustleofthebreezethroughthetrees.

“Youaren’ttakingmeoutsomewheretomurdermenowthatI’veservedmypurposeinyourplan,areyou?”Wellsasked,and
Gwynwinkedathim.

“Don’tgivemeanyideas.”
Theroadcurvedslightlyastheyheadeduphill,andGwynnoddedofftotheleft.“Ifyougothatway,you’llendupatthe
Johnsons’appleorchard.Justaheads-up,they’renicepeople,butthewarbetweentheApplePeopleandtheSpookyPeople
isanancientoneinanytownthatgoeshardforHalloween.”

“Noted,”Wellssaidwithfauxsolemnity,andGwynsmiled,shiftinggearsasthetruckbegantoclimbhigher.
“Normally,weletthemhaveprettymuchallofSeptember,butiftheyendupdoingtheAutumnAppleHayrideonHalloweennightlikethey’vebeenthreatening,allbetsareoff.”
Thetruckroseoveronelastrise,andGwynputitinreverse,maneuveringarounduntilshewasparkedexactlywhereshewanted.
She’dbeenuphereenoughtimesthatshecouldpracticallydoitwithhereyesclosed,butWellswaslookingaround,alittle
wary.

“Iwasjokingaboutthemurderearlier,butItrulyhavenoideawherewearerightnow.”
Turningthetruckoff,Gwynopenedherdoor.“Holdontoyourwaistcoat,Esquire.”
“I’mnotevenwearingone,”hegrumbledashegotout,butthenanyothercomplaintsdiedonhislipsashelookedoutat
theviewspreadbeforethem.

Gwynhadparkedsothatthebedofthetruckfacedasteepcliff,thelandsuddenlydroppingawaytorevealthevalleybelow.
GravesGlenwasacollectionoflightsglimmeringinthedarkness,homeyandwarmbutfaraway,shadowyhillsrisingallaround
it.

Justbeyondthetown,themoonlightpickedupthesilveryribbonofatrainchuggingthroughthevalley,andthesoundof
itshorncarriedacrosstheairtothemfaintly.

Reachingintothebackseat,Gwynpulledoutthequiltshealwayskeptinthetruckforwhenevershewantedtocomeuphere
andtosseditintothebed,climbingupafterit.

Wellswasstillstandingbesidethetruck,takingintheview,andasGwyngotthequiltsituated,shesaid,“Viviactually
foundthisspotfirst.Backwhenwewereteenagers.Shelikedtodrivearoundinthemountains,andshesaidthiswasthe
prettiestviewformiles.”

“It’shardtoimagineanythingtoppingit,yes,”Wellssaid,hisvoicesoft,hiseyesdrinkingitallin.
Settlingherselfonthequilt,Gwyngesturedforhimtoclimbintothebed.“Comeon,Esquire,”shesaid.“Ifyou’regoing
tobeaGeorgiaboy,youneedsomeexperiencesittingaroundinthebackoftrucks.”

“You’reratherimperious,youknowthat?”hereplied,buthehoistedhimselfupintothetruckwithsurprisinggrace,sitting
nexttoherwithhislonglegsstretchedoutinfrontofhim.

Forawhile,theywerequiet,andifitoccurredtoGwynthatshe’dneverbroughtanyoneupherebefore,shedidn’tletherself
overthinkit.

Toomuch.
Instead,shetiltedherheadback,lookingup.Starstwinkledthroughthetreesoverhead,andthemoonwasaperfectcrescent
justtotherightofthetallesthill.

Nexttoher,Wellsleanedbackonhishands.“It’ssoclearhere.Theair,thesky.”
Gwynleanedback,too,herhandbrushinghis.Shewantedtopretendshewasn’tawareofitatall,thatthewarmthofhis
bodydidn’tmakeherwanttocurlupagainsthim,breathehimin.

ButitwasgettingharderandhardertopretendthatkindofthingwhenitcametoWells,sosheletherselfscootcloser
tohim,closeenoughthattheirhipstouchedastheylookedatthestars.

“I’mprettysureWalesdoesokayforitselfintermsofnaturalbeauty,”shesaid,andhehuffedoutasoftlaugh.
“Morethanokay,yes,”heacknowledged,andGwynglancedoverathimeventhoughitwassodark,hewaslittlemorethanashadow.“Butit’sdifferenthere.It’svery…American,”hefinallysaid.
Foronce,hedidn’tsaythatlikeitwasabadword,andwhenheturnedandlookedather,Gwynthoughttherewassomething
alittlewistfulinhisexpression.“Didyoumissit?”sheasked.“GravesGlen.WhenyouwentbacktoWales.”

Wellsrubbedathisbeardashethoughtitover.“Ididn’tthinkIdid,notatfirst.I’donlybeenhereafewmonths,and
mostofthattimewasspentatschool.ButonceIgotback,Ifoundmyselfthinkingaboutitatthestrangesttimes.I’dbe
walkingdownthesidewalkinDweniniaidandrememberthewaytheleavesblewacrosscampus,howprettyallthatgreengrass
lookedwiththeredbrick.Or—andmindyou,thiswasfairlyrare—agroupofblokeswouldcomeintothepubwhowereclearly
matesfromtheirunidays,andI’dwonderaboutthepeopleImighthavemethadIstayedlonger.Thepeoplewhomighthave
stillbeeninmylife.”

Shakinghishead,hegaveaself-consciouslaugh.“Isupposethatmakesmesoundlikequitethesadbastard.”
“Ialreadythoughtthataboutyou,sonoharm,nofoul,”shereplied,butherhandwasstillnexttohis,andheonlysmiled
atthewords.

“Anyway,yes,Ididmissit.Orrather,regrettedallI’dmissedoutonbyleavingsosoon.”
Wells’sgazeslidbacktoher,lingeringforamomentbeforeheturnedhisattentionbacktotheview.“Forexample,Ihad
noideadrunkenOstarapartyhookupswereonoffer.”

Gwynlaughed,drawingherkneesupandwrappingherarmsaroundthem.“Itwasamake-out,notahookup,”shecorrectedhim.“Verydifferentthings.”
Bumpinghershoulderwithhis,sheadded,“AndI’msureyouhadatleastonedrunkenhookupormake-outofyourown.GirlsatPenhavenwerepracticallyputtingpicturesofyouupontheirwalls.”

AnotheroneofthosehuffedlaughsasWellsreacheduptoscrubahandoverhishair.“Aswe’veestablished,Iwassomething
ofagitbackthen,sono,IneverseemedtomaketimeforanyofthatwhileIwashere.”

“Seriously?Notonce?”
Hewasstilllookingattheview,hisprofileinshadow,andGwynthoughtbacktothatarrogantboycomingintoDr.Arbuthnot’s
classroom,howshe’dbeensoannoyedwithhim,howshe’dassumedeverythingmustbesoeasyforhimbecauseofhislastname.

Andthatwholetime,he’dactuallyjustbeen…lonely.
“Notonce,”heconfirmed,thenflashedheroneofthosewrysmiles.“Ifit’sanyconsolation,Ididhaveverygoodgrades.”

Therewereamillionjokesshecouldmakerightnow.Probablyamillionandfive.
ButGwynreallydidn’twanttomakeanyofthem.
Instead,sheturnedtofaceWells,cominguponherkneesasshedidandlayingherhandsoneithersideofhisface.
Hisbeardwassoftagainstherpalms,andwhensheswungalegoverhis,comingtosettleinhislap,hesuckedinaquick
breathevenashishandscameup,restingjusttherebelowherwaist.

Forasecond,Gwynwonderedifhewasgoingtostopher,orlistallthereasonsthiswasabadidea,ormaybelaunchintoasoliloquyaboutit.
Butheonlypulledhercloser.
Gwynfeltaslowsmilecurveherlipsassheloweredherfacetohis,theirmouthsjustabreathapart.“Feellikemaking
upforlosttime,Esquire?”shemurmured.

“We’renotdrunk,soI’mnotsurethiscounts,”hereplied,buthishandswerestillonher,andhetiltedhisheadjustthe
littlestbit,skimminghisnosealongherjawinawaythathadGwyn’seyesflutteringshut.

“Oh,”Gwynpromised,rollingherhipsandhearinghisbreathcatchagain,“trustme.It’sgoingtocount.”
Therewasnopretensewhenshekissedhimthistime.Nospell,noonetofool.Nooneouthereatallexceptforthetwoof
theminthedarkness,GravesGlenglitteringinthedistance,butamillionmilesawayinhermind.

Inaway,itfeltlikeafirstkiss,andthatmadesomethinginGwyn’schesttightenevenassheopenedhermouthagainst
his,herhandfistedinthefrontofhisshirt,hisfingersdiggingintoherhip.

Whenshepulledback,hislipswenttoherneck,hisbeardabradingtheskinthereinawaysheknewshe’dwinceatinthe
morning,butfornow,itjustfeltgood.Everythingfeltgood.Hismouth,hishands,thesoftnessofhishairasitbrushed
againsthercheek,theslowandsteadyachebuildingbetweenherlegsasshemovedrestlesslyagainsthislap.

Despitethecoolnessofthenight,shereacheduptopeeloffhercardiganjustasWellsliftedhisheadtokissheragain,andthenshewasdistracted,kissinghimbackevenashersweaterpinnedherarmstohersides.
Andwhenhistonguedidaparticularlylovelythingagainsthers,shegaveaneedywhimper,movingtoclutchathisshoulders
onlytobebroughtupshortbyhertraitorouscardigan.

Chucklingagainsthermouth,Wellsraisedhishands,helpinghertopushtherestoftheoffendinggarmentoff,andwitha
frustratedsound,hebrokethekissjustlongenoughtoflingthecardiganoverthesideofthetruckandintothenight.

“Youareabeautifulwoman,butthatwasahideouspieceofclothing,”Wellssaid,breathlessasshekissedhisjaw.“SoI
can’tregretitssacrificetonight.”

“Itwasmyfavorite,”shelied,“andI’mgoingtomakeyoubuymeanotherone.”
Helaughedagain,andGwynchasedthatsoundwithhermouth,thenightaircoldagainstherflushedskin.Wellshadonepalm
restingagainstherribs,aheavy,warmweightthroughherthinT-shirt,andshewonderedifhecouldfeeljusthowfasther
heartwasbeating.

Shecouldfeelhim,hardunderneathherdespitethelayersoffabricbetweenthem,andshepressedevencloser,herhipsrocking,
thefrictionsendingshiverysparksthroughherveins,herthighsclenching,andthekisssuddenlygotwilder.

OneofWells’shands,thosebeautiful,eleganthandsshe’dbeenhavingdirtythoughtsaboutforwaylongerthanshewantedtoadmit,wasonthebackofherhead,tangledinherhair.Theotherrestedjustaboveherass,holdinghertightagainsthimasshemoved,theirbodieslockedtogether,andGwynwonderedhowsomethingassimpleaskissingwhilefullyclothedcouldfeelthisfilthy.
Themanwasstillwearingasuit,forfuck’ssake.

Butmaybethatwaspartofit.Serious,formalWellsPenhallowinhisblacksuit,kissingherinthebackofapickuptruck
liketheyreallywereapairofhornycollegestudentswho’dsneakedawayfromcampus.

Forjustamoment,somethinglikelongingpiercedthroughher,awishtogobackintimesothattheycouldbethatWells,
thatGwyn,withoutalltheotherstuff,alltheseothercomplications.

“Youknow,”Gwynpanted,liftingherlipsfromhis,“you’reawfullygoodatthisforsomeonewhoclaimednevertodothis
kindofthing.”

“Iclaimednevertodothiskindofthinghere,”Wellscorrectedher,hishandbrushingherhairbackfromherface,fingerbrieflytuggingatthatstripeoffadedpink
layingagainsthercheekevenasthehandonherbacksideurgedhertokeepmoving.“Iwasn’tamonk,Jones.”

“Ah,sothereareWelshgirlsyouseducedinthebackoftrucks.Sorry,lorries.”

“Ibelieveyouweretheonewhogotintomylap,”heremindedher,movingintopressanotherhot,bitingkissagainstherneck.

Gwyn’sbrainwasfeelingdecidedlyscrambled,hereyesclosingasshemanagedtosay,“Imayhavemadethefirstmove,butyou’retheonewhoreallyranwiththis,Esquire.I’mbeginningtothinkyourwholeWaistcoatGuythingisanact.”
Hishandfallingfromherass,Wellsleanedbackalittle,studyingherevenashischeststillheavedupanddown.“Doyou
alwaystalkthismuchduringsex?”

Gwynlickedherlips,takingafewdeepbreathsofherown.“Isthatwhatwe’redoing?”sheasked.“Havingsex?”
Wellsreachedupwithonehand,rufflinghishairbeforeleaningbackonbothhands,Gwynstillperchedinhislap.“Itcertainly
feltlikethepreludetoit.”

“Isthatwhatyouwant?”Gwynasked,suddenlyalittlecoldnowthathisbodywasn’ttightupagainsthers.
Thatwasgood,though.
Sheneededthespace,neededthebreather,becausewhathadstartedoutassomethingfun,somethingshe’dfeltveryincontrol
of,hadstartedtofeellikesomethingbiggerthanthat,andthatwasfranklyterrifying.

“Wecan,”Gwynwenton.“Havesex.Orwecanjustkeepdoingthis,maybetakeitupafewnotches.Imean,youhaven’teven
feltmeupyet,andmultiplesourceswouldtellyoumytitsarenottobemissed.So.”Gwynshrugged.“Whateveryouwant.”

WellswassoquietforsolongthatGwynwonderedifmaybeheactuallywasanandroidandshe’djustshort-circuitedhissystem.Ormaybeallthebloodsuddenlyhavingtoreturntohisbraintook
time.

Thewindwasstillblowingthroughthetrees,asoftrustleoverhead,andthetruckcreakedslightlyonitswheelsasWellsslowlysatbackup,hischestagainsthers,oneofhishandscominguptocuphercheek.
TherewasenoughmoonlightforGwyntomakeouthisexpressionashelookedintohereyes,andifshe’dhopedtoputalittle
distancebetweenthem,thatmixofwarmth,annoyance,andlustshotanychanceofthatstraighttohell.

“WhatIwant,”Wellssaid,hisvoicelow,“youinfuriating.”
Hislipsbrushedhers,thebaresthintofakiss,andGwynshivered.
“Completelyterrifying.”
Anotherbrush,slightlyfirmerthistime.
“Bloodygorgeousmadwoman,istowatchyoucome.”
Arealkissnow,quick,overtoosoon,butdirtyenoughthatwhenhepulledback,Gwyn’shandswereonceagainclutchinghis
shirt,andhewasbreathinghardagain,hisgazehotonherface.

“Oh,”wasallGwynmanagedtosay,hermouthdry,buteveryotherpartofherwasliquidandonfireallatonce.
OnecornerofWells’smouthkickedupasheonceagainbrushedherhairbackfromherface,histouchgentleenoughtoraise
goosebumps.“Ifthatmeansyouwantmetofuckyou,thenIwill,”hewenton,histhumbskatingoverherlowerlip,alight
touchshefelteverywhere.“ButI’mjustashappytotouchyou.Ortasteyou.”

Gwynblewoutashakybreath.Allofherwasshaking,sherealized,andshewantedhimtokeeptalkinglikethisforever,hisvoicewarmandlow,rough,butslidingoverherlikesomethingsilkenandsmooth;wantedhimtokeepfillinghermindwithimagesofthetwoofthem,ofthethingshecoulddotoher,thethingshe’ddowithher.

“Ifyouwantustokeeponeveryitemofclothingwe’recurrentlywearingandgrindagainstmycockuntilyoucome,I’denjoy
nothingmore.IfyouwanttotouchyourselfwhileIwatch,I…well.”

Wellsshiftedunderneathher,handsholdingherhipsandpressingherdownintohislapjustincaseGwynwasn’tsurehow
muchthatparticularideaappealedtohim,andsheswallowedhard,herhandsrestingonhisshoulders,diggingintohissuit
jacket.

“Sothat’swhatIwant,GwynnevereJones,”hesaid.“You.Comingforme.Inwhichevermanneryouchoose.”
Gwynstaredalmostwonderinglydownintohisface.“Whoareyou,andwhathaveyoudonewithLlewellynPenhallow,Esquire?”
shemuttered,andWellssmiled,leaningforwardtokissthehollowofherthroat.

“Butifwhatyouwantisforustostopthishereandgobackdownthemountainandpretendthisneverhappened,I’mamenabletothataswell,”
hemurmuredagainstherskin.

“Ah,thereheis,”Gwynsaid,andWellsgavearumblingchucklethatshefeltratherthanheard.
Helookedupatheragain,liftingherhandfromhisshoulderandpressingakissintoherpalm.“Sowhatdoyouchoose,Jones?”Chapter23
Itwasfreeing,completelylosingone’sfuckingmind.
Becauseclearlythat’swhathe’ddone,andWellswasnotsurehe’deverbeenhappier.
Ormaybethat’sbecausehehadGwyninhislap,herbodywarmandpliantagainsthis,herfaceamixtureofwantandneed
andadeliciouskindofsurprisethathadhimwantingtotellhereveryfilthythoughthe’deverhadabouther,everydelicious,
debauchedthinghedesired.

ItwouldtakeawhilebecauseWellswasprettysurethatwherethiswomanwasconcerned,hewantedeverything,butthatwasallright.Uphereinthishiddenspace,farabovethetownbelow,farawayfromeverythingbuther,Wellsfelt
liketheyhadallthetimeintheworld.

Timeseemedfrozennowanywayashewaitedforhertomakeuphermind,totellhimwhatitwasshewanted.Heknewthesmartest
thingwasforthemtogobacktoGravesGlen,tofindsomeotherreasontoexplainthismomentofmadnessaway,butChrist,
hewastiredofbeingsmart.

Andshemust’vefeltthesamebecausesheleanedforward,kissinghimagain,suckingathislowerlipinawaythathadhimthinkinghemightcomejustfromthis,hermouthonhis,herlegsstraddlinghislap,herbreastsasoftweightagainsthischest.
Thenshepulledback,adangeroussmileplayingonthatlovelymouth.
Herhandssliddownherbody,crossingatthehemofherT-shirt,andassheslowlydrewitupherbody,Wells’seyeshungrily
tookineveryinchofskinrevealedtohim.Shewaspaleinthemoonlight,herskinlikemarble,andWellscouldn’thelpbut
resthishandthereonherstomach,thetipsofhisfingersjustbrushingtheedgeofherbraasshetossedhershirtover
thesideofthetruckwiththatawfulsweater.

Wellsleanedback,wantingtolookather,wishingthereweremorelight,thenremindinghimselfthathewasawitch.

“MayI?”heasked,takinghishandoffherstomach,afaintsparkalreadyappearingbetweenhisfingers,andwhenshenodded,
thatsparkgrewtoasoftglow,barelybrighterthanacandle,butenoughtolethimseeher.

Herbrawassheerblack,nearlytransparentexceptoverthenipples,wheretwoblackcats’facesgrinnedbackathim,and
Wellslaughedevenashishanditchedtocupthesideofherbreast,toskatehisthumboveroneofthosestupidcat’sembroidered
whiskers.

“God,IshouldnotbeasturnedonasIamrightnow,”hesaid,andGwyngrinneddownathim.
“DoesitmakeitbetterorworsetoknowthatI’mgoingtostartsellingtheseatSomethingWicked?”sheasked,andheshookhishead.
“Ihonestlycannotsay.”
Stillsmiling,Gwynreachedbehindher,unclaspingherbra.That,Wellsnoted,didn’tgetflungovertheside,butplaced
nexttohiship,andthenhecouldn’tthinkofmuchofanythingelseatallbecauseGwynwashalfnakedinhislap,fingers
combingthroughhishair,hernailsscratching.

“Justsoyouknow,”shesaidinahuskyvoice,guidinghishandtoherbreast,“youcanbothlookandtouch.”

Breathinghard,Wellsbrushedhisknucklesoverhernipple,thenhisthumbbeganmakingslowcirclesasshesighed,herhips
rockingagain.

“AndifIwantedtodothis?”heasked,duckinghisheadandlettinghisbreathghostalongthatpuckeredflesh,andwith
asoundsuspiciouslyclosetoawhimper,Gwynnodded,pressingherselfcloserashislipsclosedaroundhernipple,sucking
gentlyatfirst,thenharder.

Wellshadalwaysthoughtshesmelledamazing,carryingthescentsofteaandherbsandcandleswithher,asmuchapartof
herasherredhairandgreeneyes.Butthatwasnothingcomparedtothetasteofherskin,theslightsaltofhersweat,
andashemovedtoherotherbreast,hewantedtochasethattasteeverywhere,wanteditimprintedonhistonguefortherest
ofhislife.

Hecouldtellhimselfallhewantedthatsheonlydidthistohimbecauseithadbeensolongsincehe’dbeenwithanywoman,buthewasdonewithlying.Thiswasher,anditwashim,anditwaswhatevermagictheirbodiessomehowkindledtogether,andtherehadneverbeenanythinglikeitforhimbefore,andheknewdowntohisbonesthattherewouldneverbeanythinglikeitforhimagain.
“You’rewearingtoomanyclothes,”Gwynsaid,hervoiceshakyevenasshetriedtolaugh,andWellsreluctantlyreleasedher
nipple,shiftingsothathecouldtakeoffhissuitjacket.Gwynhelped,thenherhandswenttothebuttonsofhisshirt,
andWellsshuckedthatoffasfastashecould,shiveringashernailsmadeaslowtrackthroughthehaironhischest,lower,
grazinghisstomachandtappingagainsthisbeltbuckle.

Shewasshivering,too,herealized,andmaybenotjustfromhistouch.Thenighthadgrowncooleraroundthem,almostcold
now,andwithoutthinking,Wellsraisedhishandagain.Hequicklymumbledafewwords,andtheairaroundthemwarmedby
afewdegrees,chasingbackthechill.IthadbeenausefulspellinWales,andnotonehe’deverexpectedtohavemuchneed
forinGeorgia,butthen,hehadn’tthoughthe’dbegettingnakedinthebackofatruckinthemiddleofthewoods.

Gwynsmiledagainsthismouthasshekissedhimagain,andthensheslidoffhislap,comingtoherfeetinasurprisingly
elegantmotion.

Thetruckrockedslightlyasshereacheddown,takingoffonebootandthentheother,andWellslaysprawledthereatherfeet,proppeduponhiselbowsashewatchedherslideherleggingsdownuntilshewasstandingnakedoverhim,lookinglikesomesortofancientgoddess,framedagainstthenightsky,longredhairblowinginthebreeze.
Oh,Iamsofucked.
Wellshadn’trealizedhe’dsaidthewordsoutlouduntilshelaughed,goingbackdownonherkneesonthequilt,awomanagain,
butstillthemostgorgeousthinghe’deverseen.

“Youwillbeeventually,”shepromised.“ButIseemtoremembersomethingaboutlady’schoicewhenitcametohowIcometonight.”

Surprisedhecouldstillformwords,muchlessquip,Wellsmanagedtosay,“Thatwastheagreement,yes.Witch’soath.”
“Stillnotathing,”shesaid,andthenherhandslidalonghisjaw,eyesonhismouth.
“Neverhadsomeonewithabeardgodownonmebefore,”shesaid,andeverydropofbloodthathadbeenanywhereelseinWells’s
bodywasnowclearlyinhiscockbecausehehadneverbeenthishardinhislife.

“Alwayshappytoprovidenewexperiences,”hemanagedtocroakout,andonecornerofGwyn’smouthlifted.
“Upscaleexperiences,even.”

“That’sthePenhallowbrand.”
Theybothseemedtoreachforeachotheratthesametime,meetinginthemiddle,andWellscarriedherdownwithhimuntilhewaslyingonhisback,thetopofhisheadnearlybrushingtheendofthetruckbed,Gwynontopofhim,hishandsmovingoverherback,herthighs,herarse,anypartofherhecouldtouchashekissedher,untilshesatup,legsoneithersideofhim.
Hereyesmovedtothespaceonthequiltbesidethem,andherbodyhadalreadystartedturningthatwaywhenWellsclutched
herhipstighter,holdingherinplace.

Gwynlookeddownathim,eyebrowsraised,skinflushedinthesoftlightfromhisspell.
“Yousaidityourself,”heremindedherashesliddowninthetruckbed,raisinghiskneesevenasheurgedhertoslide
uphischest.“Upscaleexperiences,Jones.”

Gwyn’smouthdroppedopenjusttheslightestbitevenassheobeyedthetuggingofhishands.“Well,aren’tyoujustfull
ofsurprises?”shemurmured,andWellsallowedhimselfthesmuggestofgrins.

“Youhavenofuckingidea,”hereplied,andthenhepulledhard,andherkneeswerethereathisshoulders,herthighsopen
beforehim,andhismouthwasonher.

WellsheardadullthudasGwyngaspedandleanedforward,herhandshittingthebackwindowofthetruck,armsbracedas
herhipsmovedagainsthismouth,andshewaswetandhotandperfect,heady,andhefeltdrunkoffherasshecriedout,
asshepantedhisname,asshechasedherpleasurewiththesamekindofruthlessnessthathadmadehimwantherinthefirst
place.

Andwhenshefinallyshookandfellapartabovehim,whenhelookedupherbodyandsawhereyesclose,herlipspart,her
redhairbrightagainstthedarksky,heknewthathewasnowhereclosetohavinghadenoughofher.
Chapter24
“SohowarethingsgoingwithWells?”
FaceTimewassuchacursedinvention,GwyndecidedasshelookedatVivi’shappy,glowingfaceonherlaptop,proppedonthe
counteratSomethingWicked.

Whycouldn’tpeoplejusttalkonthephone?Whydidtheyhavetoseeeachother?

Overthephone,noonecouldseethatyouweren’twearingmakeup,orthatyouwerestillinyourpajamasatnoon.Noonecould
seethatyourbriefexperimentwithbangshadendedintragedy.

Andnoonecouldseeyoublush.
Vivifrownednow,leaninginclose.“Youlookguilty.Pleasetellmeyouhaven’tblownuphisstore.Orturnedhimintosome
kindofamphibian.”

“Ihaven’t!”Gwyninsisted.“Promise!”
Ijustrodehisfaceinthebackofmypickuptruckatyourfavoriteoverlook,that’sall,anditwasthebestsexualexperience
ofmylife,andIhavenoideahowtodealwithanyofthat,somaybeIshouldturnhimintoanamphibianbecauseatleastthenIcouldbesureI’dneverdothatagain,exceptthethingis,Ireally,reallywanttodothatagain.
Forasecond,GwynimaginedactuallysayingallthattoVivi,butsinceshereallylikedVivi’sheadasitwasasopposed
toallexploded,shedecidedjusttoadd,“Weactuallyhungoutyesterdayandwereperfectlycivil.”

Notexactlyalie.

Lastnighthaddefinitelybeen…friendly.
Viviwasclearlyunconvinced,butsheletitgo,glancingbackoverhershoulder.Shewasinsomekindoflovelystonecottage,
andwhileGwyncouldn’tseeRhys,shecouldhearhimcheerfullyhumminginthebackground,whichprobablymeanthewascooking.
She’dbeenaroundhimlongenoughtopickuponthathabit.

“Goon,”shesaidtoVivinow.“Goseewhatannoyinglyamazingthingyourhusbandismakingyoufordinner,andsleepwell
knowingthatmeandWellsarenotateachother’sthroat.”

Vivilookedbackather,tuckingherhairbehindoneear.“You’resureeverythingisfinethere?IknowtheGravesGlenGathering
isjustafewdaysaway,andthenit’sFallFestival,andwewon’tbebackforthat,either,but—”

“AlliswellinthetownofGravesGlen,”Gwyntoldher,anothertechnicaltruth.SheknewsheshouldtellViviaboutMorgancomingtotown,aboutallthatweirdnessatherhouse,butViviandRhyshadgonethroughenoughlastyear,andtheydeservedaworry-freehoneymoon.Ifsomethingmajorhappened,maybethenshe’dfillViviinonEverythingMorgan,butfornow,GwynwashappytokeepVivifirmlyoutoftheloop.
“Okay,”Vivisaidnow,thenwavedatthecamera.“TellSirPurrcivalIsaidhi,andI’lltalktoyousoon.”
“Willdo!”
Laptopclosed,GwynglancedacrosstheshoptoCaitandParker,whowerehelpingrearrangethecrystaldisplay.Samwasat
workattheCoffeeCauldron,butshe’dstoppedbyearlier,andallthreeBabyWitcheshadbeenalittleglumtolearnMorgan’s
filedidn’thavemuchinformation.

Gwynwasn’texactlythrilledaboutthat,either,butshewasstilltryingtoworkoutwhatthenextstepshouldbe.Shecould
alwayscallMorgan,invitehertolunch,andseeifMorganmightspillanyinformation,butifMorganwasuptosomething,Gwyndidn’twanttoshowherhandsosoon.

Shewasstillcontemplatingwhattodo—andtryingveryhardnottolookoutherfrontwindowtowardPenhallow’severyfive
seconds—whentheravenoverthedoorcawed.

“WelcometoSomethingWicked!”shecalledoutbeforeturningtoseeJanestandingthere.
“Oh,”shesaid,thendustedherhandsonthebackofherskirt.“Well,youneednowelcome,you’reprettyfamiliarwiththis
place.”

Offeringaweaksmile,Gwyncrossedthestoretostandinfrontofherex.JanewasclearlyinFullMayorModetoday,sensibleblacksuit,sky-highheels,twocellphonesclutchedinonehand,aniPadpeekingoutfromthebagonhershoulder,andapenbehindoneear
“Don’ttellmeyou’rehereforaplasticpumpkin,”Gwynteased,andJanesmiledalittle,shakingherhead.
“MuchasIenjoythem,no.IwasactuallygoingtoaskyousomequestionsaboutthestuffVivifoundatPenhavenfortheGraves
GlenGathering.Doyouwantto…”Janegesturedbackbehindher.“Grabateaorsomethingandchat?”

Gwyncouldthinkoffewthingsmoreawkward,butshestillnodded,callingouttoCaitandParkertowatchthecounterfor
abit,andthensheandJanewerewalkingdownGravesGlen’spicturesquemainstreettotheCoffeeCauldron.

Gwynorderedadirtychai,waitingforJanetoorderherusual,acoffeethesizeofherhead,filledwithenoughcaffeine
tokillaherdofrhinos
SowhenJaneorderedthepeppermintteawithlemonandhoney,Gwynwonderedifshe’dactuallyheardright.
Butno,SamwasdefinitelyhandingJaneatea,and,bemused,Gwynfollowedhertoabackbooth,slidinginacrossfromher.
“Youseem…calm,”Gwynnoted,lookingcloselyatJane.She’dreallylikedthemayor,buttherewasnogettingawayfrom
thefactthatthewomanwasawhirlingdervishofstressandRedBullmostofthetime.

Butapparentlynotanymore.JanelookedaschillasGwynhadeverseenher.
Andnowshewasblushingalittle,duckingherheadasshesmiled.“Lornaconvincedmetoswitchtoherbalteainsteadofcoffee,andshegotmethisapponmyphonethat’ssupposedtomakememoremindfulorsomething.”Janeshookherheadevenassheheldupthecellphonethatwaspermanentlyattachedtoherhand.
“It’ssilly,butit’sactuallyworking.”
“YoumustreallybeinlovetogiveupyourbelovedAmericanos,”Gwynjoked,buttherewasnothingfunnyinthewayJane’s
wholefaceseemedtogosoft.

“Iam,yeah,”shesaid,andGwynwaitedtofeelalittlesad,maybeevenalittlejealous,buttherewasnoneofthat.She
wasjusthappyforJane.

“Thisisalittleweird,”Gwynsaidasshestirredhertea,andJaneshrugged,sippingherowndrink.
“What?Haveyouneverbeenfriendswithanexbefore?”
“No,”Gwynsaidhonestly,andJanelaughed,shakingherhead.
“Haveyouevertried?”
“No,”Gwynsaidagain.“Ifiguredtheywerealltoobusycursingmynameorwritingreallybadshortstoriesaboutredheads
namedBrynnwhoruinedtheirlivesforever.”

Jane’seyebrowsdisappearedunderneathherbangs.“Doyouthinkyouruinedmylife?”
“Noonecouldruinyourlife,”Gwynadmitted.“You’reaforceofnature,itwouldn’tbeallowed.”
ThatmadeJanesmile,andGwynwasremindedthatJanehadreallynicesmiles.
“Gwyn,wejustdidn’tworkout,”Janesaid,reachingacrossthetabletosqueezeGwyn’shand.“Ididn’thateyou,andyoudidn’tbreakmyheart.Tobehonest,Iwasmostlysadyoudidn’tseemtowanttohangoutanymore.Ilikedhangingoutwithyou.”
“Ilikedit,too.”
“AndIdon’tseewhywecan’tkeephangingoutasfriends,”Janewenton.“Especiallynowthatwe’rebothinotherrelationships.”
Gwynalmostchokedonhertea.“What?”
Janetiltedherhead,confused.“Ijust…IthoughtyouandLlewellynPenhallowweredating.MorganHowellmentionedit
tometheotherday.”

Right.
Shehadn’treallythoughtthatpartthroughwhenshe’dthrownherselfatWells’sfaceinthestairwell,thatnewsmightspread,
thatpeoplewouldthinktheywereathingbecause,youknow,they’dsaidtheywereathing.

Andlastnight…
Nope,nope,nope,notthinkingaboutthatrightnow.
Instead,sheturnedherpapercupinherhands,tappingherdarkgreennailsonthesidesassheasked,“Soyou’vemetMorgan?”
Nodding,Janeglancedatherphone,tappingsomethingin.“Shecamebytheofficetheotherdaytointroduceherself.She’s
reallyinterestedingettinginvolvedwitheverything.TheGathering,FallFestival,Halloween…saidifweneededanything,
justletherknow.”

Janelookedup,browneyesbright.“Andshewentaheadandmadeasizabledonationtowardallthosethings,soshe’smynewfavoritecitizen,sorry.”
Makingherselfsmile,Gwynwavedthatoffevenashermindwhirred.“Anyonecanwriteacheck,Jane,”sheteased.“Whenit
comestoHalloween,youknowwhotherealMVPis.”

Morganhadsaidshe’dwantedtohelpoutwithstuff.Maybethatwassimplybecauseshewasdeterminedtoputdownrootshere
inHalloweenTown.Maybeshereallywasjustaninvolvedcitizen.

ButGwyncouldn’tstopthinkingaboutallthosethingsinMorgan’sattic,thedarkmagichangingallovertheplace,theweird
timingofhershowingupnow,thefirstSamhainafterthetown’spowerhadshiftedhands.

Luckily,Janedidn’tseemtonoticeGwyn’sdistraction,andthetwoofthemspentthenexthalfhourplanningoutfunthings
fortheGathering,includingapossibleappearancebySirPurrcival.

BythetimeGwynlefttheCoffeeCauldron,itwasdark.Shestoppedbackbythestoretolockup,andasshedid,shenoticed
thelightswerestillonatPenhallow’s.

Fightingtheurgetogoacrossthestreet,Gwyninsteadgotinhertruckandheadedbackupthemountainforhome.
Hercabinlookedwarmandcozyassheparkedinfrontofit,andshewasthinkingabouttakingalonghotbathandputting
onhercomfiestnightgown,theoneVivisaidmadeherlooklikeagirlonthefrontofaGothicnovel,whenshenoticedthat
thefrontdoorwasslightlyajar.

Standingthereonthefrontsteps,sheheldherbreathforamoment,tryingtorememberthismorning.Ithadbeenwindytoday,astormbrewing,andthecabinwasold.Doorsdidn’talwayscloseasfirmlyastheyshould,butshealwayslockedthefrontdoor.
Hadshetoday?
Ofcourseshehad,shethought,makingherselfwalkupthesteps.Therewasnofeelingofmagicintheair,nosensethat
anotherpersonwasinthere,butshestillwalkedslowly,herheartthuddingsteadilyagainstherribs.

Thedoorcreakedasshepushedagainstit,andshereachedinside,flippingonthelights,hereyesscanningtheentrance.
Noonethere.
“SirPurrcival?”shecalled.Ifsomeonehadbeeninthehouse,he’dtellher.
Thatmadeherfeelalittlebitbetteruntilsherealizedthehousewasveryquiet,nopatterofpaws,nohowlingfortreats.
SirPurrcivalalwaysmetheratthedoorhowlingfortreats.
Okay,nowshewasscared,andGwyntookadeepbreath,fingersmovingatherside,pullingupablastofmagicevenasshe
keptcallingSirPurrcival’sname.

Shewassofocusedonlookingforhercatthatittookheraminutetorealizeherhandfeltalmostdeadatherside,nopower
flowingthroughitatall.

Breathinghardnow,shelookeddown,movedherfingers,andtherewas…nothing.
“SirPurrcival?”shecalledagain,thumpingupthestairs,checkingherroom,Vivi’soldroom,underbeds,inclosets,behindchairs,allhisfavoritespots,andallthewhile,shewastryingtoaccesshermagic,herheartracing,herbreathingstartingtosoundsuspiciouslylikesobs.
Hermagicwasn’tworkingandhercatwasmissing,andasshemadeherwayoutontothefrontporch,thewoods,herwoodsonhermountain,suddenlyfeltliketheywereclosinginonher,likeanythingcouldbehidinginthem.Shewasalone,andshewas
powerless,andshewasPurrcival-less.

Overhead,cloudswerescutteringacrossthenightsky,thewindpickingup,andfaroffinthedistance,Gwynsawaflash
oflightningagainsttheheavyclouds.Rainwascoming,anduphereonthemountain,stormscouldgetintense.

AndSirPurrcivalwassomewhereoutthere.
Wrappingherarmsaroundherself,Gwyntookdeep,steadyingbreaths,closinghereyesforasecond.
Andwhensheopenedthem,brightlightsappearedinthetrees,headingrightforher.Chapter25
WellshadbeenthinkingaboutGwynonafairlyconstantloopforthepasttwenty-fourhours,sowhenhedrovepasthercabin
onhiswayhomeandsawherstandingontheporch,hewasalmostsurethatallthatobsessingwasresultinginvisionsnow.

Butthenhesawherface,paleandworriedintheporchlights,andslammedonhisbrakessohardthatthebackofhiscar
slidslightlyonthedirtandgravelroad.

Hebarelymanagedtogetitinparkbeforehewasflingingopenthecardoorandhurryingovertoher.
“Gwyn?”
“Wells!”shecried,andthat’swhenheknewthatwhateverwaswrong,itwasserious.
Hemadehiswayuptheporchstepsjustasshestartedcomingdown,andnowhesawthatthereweretearsinhereyes,and
bySt.Bugi’sheart,hewasgoingtokillwhoeverhadmadeGwynnevereJonescry.

Magicwasalreadycracklinginhisveins,hishandsclenchedtightathissidesasheasked,“Whatisit?What’shappened?”
“Ican’tfindSirPurrcival,”shesaid,hervoicesmallandscaredandsoveryUn-Gwyn.“WhenIgothome,thedoorwasopen.
Ithoughtsomeonemighthavebrokenin,butIthinkIjustforgottolockupthismorning,andwehadallthatwindtoday,
anditmust’veblownopenandhegotout.”

Asthoughshe’dsummoneditwithherwords,thewindpickedupthen,leavesrainingdown,theairheavywiththesmellof
rainandozone.

ShelookedupatWells,mouthtrembling.“He’ssolittle,”shesaid,andWellsfeltlikesomethinginhischesthadcracked
open.Inthatsecond,hewould’vegivenanythingintheworldtohandherthatcat,tomakeherneverlookorsoundlikethis
again.

“We’llfindhim,”Wellssaidimmediately.IfIhavetocombthrougheverycornerofthisentirebloodymountain.
“Itried,”shesaid,hervoicewavering.“Iwasgoingtodoalocationspell,butmymagicisonthefritzorsomething.Nothing
washappening.”

Wellsfrowned.ThatwasthreetimesnowGwyn’smagichadnotworkedasitwasmeantto,oratleastthreetimesthatheknew
about.

Buttheycouldworryaboutthatlater.Rightnow,heneededtogetthiscatbackforher.
“Youwereprobablytooupset,”Wellsreasoned,“soletmetry,hmm?”
Shenodded,swipingathereyesandtakingashudderybreath,andWellsgraspedhershouldersbriefly,squeezing.
Thenheturnedaway,scanningthewoodsinfrontofhim,tryingtocalmhisownracingheartandfocus.He’donlyseenthe
catahandfuloftimes,buthepicturedhimasbesthecould,raisinghishandsasmagiccrackledalonghisfingers.Hecould
feelakindoftugginginhismind,andtothatimageofSirPurrcival,headdedGwyn’stear-streakedface,theweightin
hisstomachwhenhe’drealizedshewascrying,thefiercedesirehehadtofixthisforher.

Lightzippedfromhishands,spillingoutontotheground,atwistingbandoflightthatsnakedoutinfrontofhimandthrough
thetrees.

Gwynwasalreadyrunning,followingthelightasitziggedandzagged,andWellswasrightbehindher,carefulnottotrip
overrootsorstrayrocksastheymoveddeeperintotheforest.

Thepathoflightendedatahollowtree,andGwynstopped,pantingasshecalledout,“SirPurrcival?”
Andtherehewas,thelittlebastard,saunteringoutoftheholeinthetreestump,hisbiggreeneyesblinkingashelooked
atGwyn.

“Treats?”heasked,andsheburstintotearsthen,bignoisyones,assheleaneddownandscoopedhimup.
ReliefsurgedthroughWells.Reliefandpride,andafiercegladness,andthenthereitwasagain,thatfeelinginhischest,
atightnessandawarmthallatonceasGwyncoveredthecatinkisses.

“Youdon’tdeserveany,”shetoldhim.“Butyes.Allthetreatsyouwant.Allthetreatsinthewholewideworld.”
“Treats,”SirPurrcivalconfirmedhappily,settlinginformoresnuggles.
Wellsneverthoughthe’dbesoenviousofacat.
Gwynturnedtohimthen,herfaceredandwet,SirPurrcivaltuckedunderherchin.
“Thankyou,”shesaid.“Seriously.Iwaspanicking,andIdon’tknowwhatIwould’vedoneifyouhadn’tshownup.”
“Youwould’vefigureditout,”hesaid,andshegaveanotheroneofthoseshudderybreathsasshescratchedSirPurrcival’s
belly.

“Still,”Gwyninsisted.“Iappreciateit.AndsodoesSirPurrcival,don’tyou?”
SirPurrcivalstudiedWellsforamomentandthengaveasleepy-sounding“NotDickbag.”
“Begpardon?”Wellsasked,eyebrowsraised,andGwynwavedhimoff.
“HecallsRhysDickbag,sotrustme,thisishisversionofacompliment.”
“Ah.Well,inthatSirPurrcivalandIarealigned,”Wellssaid,andGwynshookherheadathimasshestartedheadingback
tothehouse.

“We’vetalkedabouttheAusten-speak,Esquire,”shesaid,soundingmorelikeherselfnow.“Youclearlyneedtowatchsome
badrealityTVorsomething,startpickinguphowwehumanstalk.”

“OrmaybeI’lljustspendmoretimewithSirPurrcivalhere.Heclearlyhasavastknowledgeoffunandexcitingslangtermsformetolearn.”
Gwynsnortedatthat,andWellstrailedherbacktoherfrontporch,pausingthereatthefootofthestepsasshemadeher
waytothefrontdoor.

Whensherealizedhewasn’tfollowingher,shestopped,turningtolookdownathim.
“Ishouldheadbacktominebeforetheraingetshere,”hesaid,gesturingtowardhiscar.“LetyouandSirPurrcivalsettle
in.”

Ithadbeeneasynottothinkoflastnightwhenhewastooworriedaboutherbeingupset,butnowthatthecrisishadpassed,
memorieswereslidingbackin,lyingheavilybetweenthem,andWellsfelt…well,shywasperhapsnottheword,butunsure.Diditmeansomething,thoselong,heatedmomentsinhertruck,faraboveGravesGlen?

Orhaditjustbeenaone-off,afunwaytopassanevening?
Heknewwhichhepreferred,buthedidn’tgettodecidethathimself,anditmightbeforthebesttokeephisdistancefor
awhile.

Self-preservationandallthat.
Butthensheshookherhead,rollinghereyeswithwhathethought—hoped—wasfondness.
“Yousavedmycat,Esquire.Atleastletmemakeyouadrink.”
Shepushedthedoorallthewayopenwithonehip,thenthrewalookoverhershoulderathim.“Youcoming?”
Self-preservationwas,Wellsdecidedasheallbutranupthefrontsteps,trulyoverrated.
It’sjustadrink.
Standinginthekitchen,muddlingblackcherriesandanorangepeel,Gwynrepeatedthatlikeamantra.
SirPurrcivalwashappilynappinginhisbedonthekitchentable,purringaway,andasGwynglancedoverathim,therewas
arumbleofthunder,apatteringofrainagainstthewindows.Thestormthathadbeenthreateningalldayhadfinallyblown
in,andGwynfeltherthroatgotightalloveragain.SirPurrcivalhadbeendeeperinthewoodsthansheeverwould’veguessed.
Whatifhe’dstillbeenouttherewhenitstartedstorming?WhatifWellshadn’tcomealongwhenhedid?

Buthedid.Andthat’swhyyou’remakinghimadrink,andthenhe’lldrinkitandgo,anditdoesn’thavetobeanythingmore
thanthat.
Italreadyseemedlikemorethanthat,though.
She’dcriedinfrontofhim.ThatwaswaymorepersonaltoGwynthancominginfrontofsomeone,andshe’ddonebothinthepasttwenty-four
hourswithWells.ThathadtobesomekindofEmotionalVulnerabilityRecordforher,andgiventhatshewasstillfeeling
alittleshaky,itwould’vebeensmartertoagreethatheshouldgoonuptohishouse.

Instead,she’dinvitedhimin,andnow,asshewalkedoutofthekitchen,drinksinhand,herheartstutteredinherchest.
Hewasstandinginthelivingroom,hisbacktoher,whichletheradmirehisbroadshoulders,hisnarrowwaist,thewayhishaircurledagainsthiscollar,thethingsthosedarkjeanshewaswearingdidforhisassandthighs.
Should’vemadehimgetnaked,too,shethoughtalittlewistfully,thenshookherself.Shewassupposedtobehandinghimhis“thanksforrescuingmycat”drink
andsendinghimonhisway,notoglinghim.

“Madeyouanold-fashioned.Feltappropriate,”shesaid,andheturnedslightly,acceptingthecocktailfromher,hisfingers
brushinghers.Thatsimpletouchsentarushofheatthroughher,andshedidn’tmeethiseyesastheyclinkedglasses.

“ToSirPurrcivalandhiscontinuedsafety,”Wellssaid,andoutside,therewasanotherboomofthunder.
Wellsglancedtowardthefrontdoor,acreasebetweenhisbrows.“Ineverhearthatsoundwithoutthinkingmyfatherissomewhere
nearbyandinabadmood.”

“IsyourfatherZeus?”sheasked.“Odin,maybe?”
Thatmadehimchuckle,andheshruggedashetookanothersip.“Sometimeshefeelslikeit.Butno,hismagicistiedtoweather,
whichmeansanytimehe’sannoyed,itrains.Anditrainsalot.”

GwynhadmetSimonPenhallowonceandnotbeenimpressed.RhyshadalwaysinsistedWellswasbasicallyayoungerversionof
hisfather,butGwynwasn’tsosure.Yes,hecouldbeashaughtyasaRomanemperor,butWellswasalsokindandthoughtful.
Sweetinhisway.

Andapparentlyverygenerousinbed.

ThosewereDangerZoneThoughts,though,soGwynturnedherattentiontotheshelfWellshadbeenstudyingwhenshecamein.
“Whatwereyoulookingatsointently?”sheasked,andhereachedout,tappingatarotcardlyingthere.
“This,”hesaid.“It’sbeautiful.”
ItwastheTenofSwords,aroughcard,onethatusuallyshowedsomeoneontheground,skeweredtherebyallthoseblades.
Butwhilethisonehadthoseelements—aredheadedwomanontheground,herbodysurroundedbyswords—itwasn’tnearlyasgrim.
Foronething,theswordsweren’tpiercingherflesh,justthefabricofthelongdressshewore,andwhilehereyeswere
closed,shedidn’tappeartobedeadorhurt,justresting,thesmallestsmiletiltingherlips.Andinthedistance,past
arowofdarkandforbiddingtrees,thesunwascomingup,bathingthetoppartofthecardinasoftpinkishlight.

“Usuallysuchadarkcard,”Wellswenton,“butthisoneislovely,anditseemstounderstandtherealpointofthecard.
Thatyes,theworsthascome,butlook.”Hetappedthesunriseinthebackground.“Anewdayiscoming.Andthewoundsthe
swordshavedealtaren’tfatal,justbindingfornow.”

Wellstookasipofhisdrink,andGwynwatchedhisthroatmoveabovethecollarofhiswhiteshirt,herownthroatsuddenly
tight.

“I’llhavetoseewhomakesthisdeck,getitintoPenhallow’s,”hewenton,andGwynshookherhead,placingherdrinkon
themanteljusttoherleft.

“Youcan’t,”shetoldhim,andwhenhelookedoverather,shecrossedherarmsoverherchest,tiltingherhead.
“ThatdeckisaSomethingWickedexclusive.”
Wellsraisedaneyebrow.“Oh?Whyisthat?”
“BecauseIpaintedit.”
Outside,therainwaspoundingdownnow,thewindhowling,andthelightsactuallyflickeredforasecondbeforeWellssaid,
“Youreallyareabloodywonder,GwynJones.”

Shewaswearingrippedjeansandalong-sleevedT-shirtthatsaid,IFIWEREAWITCHGIRL.Herfacewasstillredandprobablyalittlepuffyfromcrying,andwhatevermakeupshe’dputonthatmorningwaslonggone.
Shefelttiredandrawandworriedabouthermagic,andWellswaslookingatherlikeshewasthemostamazingthinghe’d
everseen,aworldwonderhecouldnotbelievehewasinthepresenceof.

“Thatissodeeplyunfair,”Gwynsaidonasigh,andthentookonelastswigofherdrinkandsteppedintohisarms.Chapter26
Hismouthtasteddarkandsweet,likethecherriesandbourbononherowntongue,andwhenhegroaned,hishandcomingup
tocupherface,Gwyndeepenedthekiss,pressingherselfshamelesslyagainsthim,herhandsclutchinghiswaist.

Anothercrackofthundershookthehouse,andthelightsflickeredagainbeforegoingout,plungingthemintodarkness.
Liftinghisfacefromhers,Wellslookedaroundthem,hishandstillthereatherjaw,thumbabsentmindedlystroking.
“Don’ttellmeyou’reafraidofthedark,Esquire,”Gwynsaid,hervoicehusky,andhiseyesmovedbacktohers,lipsquirking.
“Actually,Iwasjustthinkingthatoneofthesedays,we’regoingtodothissortofthinginbroadfuckingdaylightwhere
Icanseeeveryinchofyou,”hereplied,andshelaughed,herhandslidingaroundtothebackofhishead,tugginghishair.

“Whosaidyouweregoingtogettoseeanythingtonight?”sheteased.“Thisisjustakiss,afterall.Notaguaranteeof
nudity.”

Wells’sexpressionsobered.“Ofcourse,”hesaid.“Andyou’vehadaroughnight,soIwouldn’twanttofeellikeIwas—”
“‘Takingadvantage,’”shefinishedforhim,thengavehishairanothertug.“Iknow.Whichisverysweetofyou,buttrustme,ifanything,it’stheotherwayaround.”
Leaningforward,shenippedathislowerlip,andhegrunted,hishandflexingagainsthercheek,hiseyesgoingdark.
“And,”Gwynadded,tappinghernailsagainstthebuttonsofhisshirt,“theplansIhaveforyoutonightactuallyinvolve
gratuitousamountsofnudity.”

“Dotheyindeed,”hemuttered,lookingdownather,andGwynnodded,lettingherhandsliplower.Eventhroughhisjeans,
shecouldfeelhowhardhewasagainstherpalm,andshegaveaslowsmile,pressinggentlyagainsthim,hopinghe’dmake
thatsoundagain.

“Executivelevelsofnakedness,”shecontinued,andyup,therewasthatgruntagain,andshewasgoingtoneedtogettothose
nakednesslevelsassoonaspossiblebecausetheachebetweenherlegswasalmostpainfulnow,hernippleshardagainstthe
laceofherbra.

ButwhenshesteppedbackandreachedforthehemofherT-shirt,Wellsplacedahandonherarm,stoppingher.
“MuchasIenjoyedlastnight,andasawkwardasitisthatIwillnowfindpickuptruckstobehighlyeroticlocations,if
it’sallrightwithyou,Ithoughtwemighttryabedtonight.”

ThethoughtofWellsinherbedmadeGwyn’skneesalittleweakandherstomachalittleswoopy,becausehookingupinher
truckoronherlivingroomfloorwasonething,butlettinghimintoherbedroom?

Thatmadeitrealforher.
And,Gwynfoundasshesteppedclosertohim,windingherarmsaroundhisneck,shewantedthat.
“Okay,”shesaid,“butjustsoyouknow,there’saflightofstairsnowbetweenyouandseeingmy—”
Gwynbrokeoffwithashriek,herhandsclutchingathisshouldersasWellsbentslightlyattheknees,hishandsgrabbing
herbacksideandhaulingherupoffherfeet.

Giggling,Gwynclungtohimashecarriedhertowardthestairs,herthighsaroundhiships.“Ineverwouldhaveguessedthat
sexbringsoutthissideofyou,”shetoldhim,kissinghisneckashenavigatedthestairs.

“Youbringoutthissideofme,”hereplied,gruff,andifthatmadeherfacesuddenlybreakintoagoofygrin,atleasthecouldn’t
seeit.

“Thisone,”shesaidasheapproachedherbedroomdoor,andWellscarriedherinside,hismouthfindinghersagainbefore
heloweredhertoherfeet.

Itwasevendarkerinhere,herroomaminefieldofclothes,discardedshoes,books,ashoeboxofpaintingsupplies,andthey
trippedandstumbledandlaughedagainsteachother’smouthallwhilepeelingoffclothes,tossingthemasidetojointhe
restofthemess.

Herbed,atleast,wasthankfullyfreeofdebris,andGwyntossedbackthequilt,climbinginjustastherewasaslighthum
andthelightssurgedbackon.

She’donlyleftasmallbedsidelampon,butthatwasplentyoflighttoseeWellsstandingattheedgeofherbed,nakedandgorgeousandperfect,andhereyesdrankhiminevenashisgazeroamedoverher.
“Oh,IhaveneverbeensothankfulforelectricityasIamrightnow,”Wellsmurmured,andGwynsmirked,reachingout,her
handclosingaroundhiscockashesuckedinaquickbreath,stomachmusclestensing.

“Definitelyabigfan,too,”shereplied,watchinghisfaceasshestrokedhim,lovingthewayhismouthfellopen,hiseyes
unfocusedandwild,hischestheaving.

Shecouldhavewatchedhimforever,couldhavetouchedhimforever,butthenhewasgentlypullingherhandaway.

“Ifyoukeepdoingthatwhileyou’relookingatmelikethat,”hesaid,pressingakissintoherpalmbeforegentlyteasingthefleshypadatthebaseofherthumbwith
histeeth,“I’llcomebeforeIhaveachancetobeinsideyou.”

Hiseyesmethersthen,pupilswide,theblueathinringaroundtheblack.“Providedyouwantmeinsideyou.”
“Ido,”shesaid,noddingquickly.“Ireally,reallydo.”
Hesmiledatthat,thatslow,sexysmilewhichshesomehowknewwashersandhersalone,andGwynlickedherlips,scooting
backonthebedashefollowed,hisarmsbracedoneithersideofherbodyashestareddownather.

Thesheetsweresoftunderneathher,hercolorfulquiltatangledmessatonecornerofthebed,andhelookedsorighthereinherbedroom,hefeltsoright,thatshewaitedforthatsurgeofpanictoswellup,buttherewasonlyheatanddesire,andsomethingthatfelt
suspiciouslylikehappiness.

Tiltingherfaceup,Gwynbrushedherlipsoverhis,hisbeardtickling.“There’sabagsomewhereonthisfloorwithcondoms
init,”shetoldhim,andhekissedherback,mutteringsomethingagainsthermouthasheliftedonehand,sparksdancing
onhisfingertips.

Thebagroseupoffthefloor,floatingovertothebed.Itmadeherlaugh,butasWellsfumbledinside,itwasalsoareminder
thathermagichaddesertedheryetagaintonight.

Thatthoughtcausedachilltoshiverupherspine,andtheonlythingforitwastopullWellscloser,tokisshimuntil
sheforgotanythingbutthefeelofhim,thetasteofhim,thegentlestingofhisbeardonherneck,herbreasts,thesoft
skinofherstomach.

Hemadetomovelower,butGwynwantedhimwithherwhenshecamethistime,andsoshetuggedathisshoulders,pullinghim
upherbody,openingherselftohim.

Shewantedhimlikethis,ontopofher,asmuchofhisskintouchinghersasshecouldget,andwhenheslidinsideofher
andsheclenchedaroundhim,theybothmoaned.

Hisfacewasclosetohers,andGwynfoundherselffascinatedwitheveryflickerofemotionthereashebegantomove,the
wayhetensedalmostlikehewasinpain,andthen,whenheopenedhiseyes,theheatandfocushefixedonher.

Itwasalmosttoomuch.Itwastoomuch,andGwyntorehergazefromhis,herhipsrisingtomeethisthrusts,pleasureandtensioncurlinglowinherstomachuntilshefinallyslidahandbetweenthem,touchingherself.
Wells’smovementsstuttered,hisbreathsawinginandoutofhislungs,andhemutteredsomethinginWelshthatalmostsounded
likeaprayer.

Everythingwasablurafterthat,ahot,sweatyblurofhislipsonhersandherfingersrubbingfaster,andhisthrustsharder,
deeper,herbrassbedcreakingandthestormstillragingoutside,andthenshewascoming,herforeheadpressedtohisshoulder,
herarmsclaspedaroundhim.

Wellsfollowedherjustafewmomentslater,hernamesomewhereinthereamongalltheWelsh,andthistime,whentheireyes
met,Gwyndidn’tlookaway.
Chapter27
“Ilikeithere,”Wellssaiddrowsily,studyingtheceilingoverGwyn’sbed.Hehadnoideawhattimeitwas,andoutside,
therainhadsoftenedtoagentlepatteragainsttheroof.Inhere,though,itwaswarmanddry,andGwynwasasoftweight
athisside.

Shelaughednow,liftingherheadfromhisshouldertolookathim.Herskinwasstillflushedpink,lipsslightlyswollen,
andWellsknewthatnomatterwhathappenedfromhereonout,he’dalwaysthinkofthismomentandhowlovelyshewas.

“DoyoumeanbeinginbedwithmeorinGravesGleningeneral?”
“Delightedaboutthefirst,obviously,”hesaid,rollingontohissideandskimmingahandoverherhip.“Butyes,itwas
thesecondIwasthinkingabout.”

“Anyparticularreasonwhy?”
Hesighed,stillstrokingherhipasshearchedintohimlikeacat.“It’llsounddaft,”hewarned,notsurehecouldexplainitproperly,“butitwastheweathertonight.Thestorm.IusedtolieinmybedinDweniniaid,hearingitrain,andthinkinghowI’dgetupthenextmorninganditwouldstillberaining,andnoonewouldcomeintothepub,andhowallthoserainydaysseemedtostringtogether.Everydaysomemildvariationonthesamething.”
“Andnow?”Gwynaskedsoftly,stackingherhandsbeneathhercheek.
“Now,”hetoldher,“IwasthinkinghowIwasspendingarainynightinbedwiththisgloriouswoman,andtomorrowI’llopen
upmyshop,whereactualcustomerswillcomeinandbehappytobethere.AndIhavenoideawhatelsethedaymaybring,
andthatfeelsprettyfuckingspectacular.”

Shesmiledatthat,herbarefootnudginghis.“Oh,sonowyoulikesurprises.Butwhenitwasmethrowingabachelorette
partyinyourhouse,thatwasanotherissue.”

“That,”hesaid,puttinganarmaroundherwaistandpullinghercloser,notmissingthewayhergazewentalittlehazy,
“wasmebeingexhaustedandconfusedandunpreparedtofindahousefullofpeople.”

“Therewere,like,sixofus.”
“Ah,butyoucountforatleastfivewomenallonyourown,myGwynnevere,”hesaid,andsherolledhereyesbutkissedhim
allthesame,pushinghimontohisbackassheleanedoverhim.

“IamsorryyourfirstnightbackinGravesGleninvolvedpenisheadbands,”shetoldhimnow,andWellschuckled,liftinghishead
tonuzzleherjawbeforefloppingbackonthepillow,hishandcominguptotuggentlyatthepinkstreakinherhair.

Eyesflickingtowardtheside,Gwynsmirked.“Yourealizeyoudothatalot,don’tyou?Doespinkhairreallydoitforyouorsomething?”
“Hmm,”Wellshummed,thenletthestrandsofhairfallbackagainstherneckandshouldersashereyeswidened.
“Wait,doesit?”sheasked,andheactuallyfelthimselfblushingalittleashelookedupather,whichwascompletelyinsane
giventhathewascurrentlynakedandhardandpressedagainstherequallynakedbody.

“Irealizeit’sbadformtodiscussotherwomenwhileinbedwithsomeone,”hestarted,andnowGwyn’seyebrowswentupas
sherestedherhandsonhischest,proppingherchinontopofthem.

“Okay,nowIhavetohearthis.”
Wellssmiledather,evenasthetipsofhisearswenthot.“Fine.WhenIwasatPenhaven,Ioccasionallysawthisgirl.”
“‘Saw’inthebiblicalsense?”
Reachingdown,Wellspinchedherbottomandshegaveanexaggeratedyelp.
“‘Saw’asin‘sawromanticallyandpininglyinthedistance,’thankyouverymuch,”heinformedher,turninghisgazeback
totheceilingasheremembered.

“Anyway,shehadtheprettiestpurplehair.Violet,really,andI’dcatchsightofheroutofthecornerofmyeyeandthink
Ishouldgotalktoher.But,aswe’vepreviouslyestablished,Iwasanabsolutewankerbackthen.Andthen,ofcourse,I
embarrassedmyselfhorriblyinfrontofherinaclassroombyactinglikeacompleteshow-off,soitwasyetanothersmashing
romanticsuccessfromWellsPen—whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?”

He’ddroppedhiseyesbacktoherfacetoseeherwatchinghimwiththestrangestexpression,onehecouldn’tevenbegintointerpret,andforasecond,Wellswonderedifhe’dmadeamistakeintellingheraboutthegirlwiththepurplehair.
“I’mnotstillpiningforher,”hetoldher,frowning.“Incaseyou’reworriedthatthisreturntoGravesGlenwassomesort
oflost-lovething.Ijustreallylikedherhair,andyes,hadseveralexplicitfantasiesaboutit,but—”

Shecutoffhisbabblingwithanotherkiss,andthentherewasabsolutelynowomaninhismindexceptGwynherselfasshe
threwherlegoverhislapandroseupabovehim.

Later—muchlater—Gwynsighedinhisarmsandsaid,“I’veputoffworryingaboutmymagicforaslongasIcan,Ithink.”
Wellswascurledaroundher,herbackagainsthischest,andhekissedhershoulder,tastingtheslightsaltofhersweat
there.“Youwereupset,”heremindedher.“Andmagicdoesn’talwaysplaybytherules.”

Liftingonehand,shemovedherfingers.
Nothinghappened.
Anothersigh,andsheloweredherarm,scootingclosertohim.“It’smorethanthat,”shesaid.“Something’swrong.Andit’s
beenwrongeversinceMorgancameback.”

Twistinginhisarms,Gwynlookedupathim.“Maybeit’stimeforthedirectapproach.”
Gwynwasn’tsurewhattheappropriateoutfitwasforconfrontinganevilwitchaboutstealingyourmagic,butshesensedonecouldn’tgowrongallinblack.Soafterhershowerthatnextmorning(whichshehadverygraciouslyandmagnanimouslysharedwithWellsbeforesendinghimbacktohishouseforachangeofclothes),she’dpulledoutherblackestjeans,aninkysweater,andapairofblackboots.
Problemwas,whenWellsreturnedfromhishouse,he’dapparentlydecidedblackwasasolidchoiceaswell,andnow,asthey
speddownthemountaininGwyn’struck,sheglancedoverathim.

“Ican’tdecideifwelookintimidatingorlikewe’reformingaGothband,”shesaid,andhesniffed,tuggingathislapels.
“AndhereIwasthinkingwelookedlikeapairofundertakers.”
ThatmadeGwynsmile,somethingofafeatgivenhowfreakedout—andpissedoff—shewas,andseeingit,Wellsreachedover,
squeezingherhand.“We’llgetthissorted,Gwyn,”hepromised,andshesqueezedback.

Itwasprobablyresidualsexhormones,butitfeltgood,havingWellsbyherside.Scarierthanthat,itfeltright,thesamewayhavinghiminherbedroomhadfeltrightlastnight.

Maybe,justmaybe,itwastimetogetusedtotheideathatWellsfeltright…ingeneral.
Andshewould.
Butfirst,shewasgettingherdamnmagicback.
AssheturnedpastMainStreet,Wellstwistedinhisseatalittle,watchingthestreetrecedebehindthem.“Ishould’veputsomekindofsignonPenhallow’sthismorning,sayingwe’reclosed,”hesaid,andGwynshookherhead.
“Noworries,Esquire.ParkerisopeningupSomethingWicked,andIsentCaitovertheretoopenupshopforyou.Didyouknow
thelockingspellyouhaveonthatplaceisweakasfuck?Caitbrokeitin,like,threeseconds.”

GwyncouldfeelWells’seyesonthesideofherface.
“You…sentyourBabyWitchesintomyshop.”
“Yes,you’rewelcome.”
Shehadn’tgottenaLlewellynPenhallowPatentedScowlinawhile,butoh,itwasinevidencenow,andhonestly,itwaskind
ofarelief.

“ShouldIcallmyinsurancecompany?”heasked.“Makesuremyfirepolicyissound?”
“Caitisunderverystrictinstructionsnottodoanymagicinthereoreventouchyourfireplace,”Gwynassuredhim,andshethoughtWellsactuallywentalittlegray.

“Iforgotaboutthefireplace,”hemurmuredtohimself,andthenhefumbledinhispocketforhiscellphone.
“Rhiannon’stits,”hebitout,glancingoveratherashepulledupanapp,“howcanIbethisannoyedwithyouandstill
thinkyourhairlooksbeautifulinthesunlightrightnow?”

Gwynshookherhead.“Somethingtellsmethat’safeelingwe’rebothgoingtoneedsometimegettingusedto.”
Wellssnorted,hisfingersflyingoverthescreen,thatdarkjewelinhissignetringwinking.
“Areyouthinkingmyhairlooksbeautifulinthesunlight,Gwynnevere?”heaskedwithoutlookingather.

“IwasactuallythinkingthatassoonaswemakeMorganreversewhateverspellshe’sdoneonme,weshouldgobacktoyour
store,kickCaitout,lockthedoor,andfuckinfrontofthatfireplaceyou’resoproudof.”

TheslightlychokedsoundWellsmadetothatwassoverygratifying,andnowshecouldfeelhiseyesonherfaceagain,but
thistime,theintentbehindthatlookwasvery,verydifferent.

“Amenable?”sheaskedbrightly,lookingoverathim,andoh,yes,thatwasaverydifferentlookindeed.

“Terribly,”hemanagedtoreply,andGwynturnedoffontheroadleadingtoMorgan’shouse.
Clearinghisthroat,Wellsreachedupandunbuttonedthetopbuttonofhiscollar,tuggingatthefabric.“You’resosure
it’sMorgan,then?Andthatthiswillbeeasilyundone?”

“Firstoneyes,secondonenotasmuch,”sheadmitted.Ithadbeenonhermindallmorning,ifshewasbeinghonest.Didshe
reallybelieveitwasMorgancausingthis,ordidshejustwanttobecausethatwastheeasiestanswer?

Shedidn’tknow,butGwynhadalwaysfounditbesttoapproachthingswithalmostlethalamountsofconfidence,andthistime
wasnoexception.

Morgan’shousecameintoview,everybitasbigandoddasithadbeenthatnight,andGwynthoughtshesawacurtainflick
openthenclosedononeoftheupperfloors.

Good.
Takingadeepbreath,sheopenedthetruckdoorandclimbedout.Thegrasswasstilldampunderfootdespitetheperfectautumnday,andGwynshiveredasshestaredupatthehouse.
ThenshefeltWells’shand,warmandstrong,inhers.“Let’sgetthisoverwith,shallwe?”hesaid,andnodded.
“Oh,wefuckingshall.”Chapter28
Inanotherlife,Gwynprobablywould’vemadeagoodgeneral,WellsthoughtashefollowedheruptoMorgan’shouse.Possibly
acultleader.

Becausehecouldthinkofathousandreasonswhybeardingapotentiallydangerouswitchinherdenseemedill-advisedatbest,
disastrousatworst,especiallygiventhatGwynnolongerhadaccesstomagic,andyet,whenshe’dannouncedherintention
todojustthatthismorning,hehadn’tquestionedit.

Partofitwasthathewantedtobelieveshewasright.ThatconfrontingMorganwouldputanendtoallofthis,giveGwyn
backherpower,andrestorethestatusquo.

Andpartofitwasprobablythefactthathewas,hesuspected,fallingquitedesperatelyinlovewithherandwoulddowhatever
shewantedhimto.

Analarmingthoughtgiventhathehadonlyknownherforafewweeksnow,butheknewwhathe’dfeltwhenhe’dwokenupbesideherthismorning.Itwasn’tafeelinghewasterriblyfamiliarwith,reallyonlyhadoneseriousbrushwithityearsago,butherecognizeditallthesame.
Itwasn’tlust—allright,itwasn’tonlylust—butsomethingdeeper.

Somethingstronger.
Somethinghe’ddecidedtokeepaverytightlidonforthetimebeinggiventhathewasfairlycertainshedidn’tfeelthe
same.

Yet.
Buttherewastime,wasn’tthere?
ThatoppressivemagicstillclungtoMorgan’shouse,makinghisteethitchandsettingoffadullheadacheatthebackof
hisskulltheclosertheygot,andwhenGwynclimbedthefrontsteps,hefollowedalittleslowly.

Knockingonthedoor,sheturnedtolookbackathimandwhispered,“Wedidn’tdecidewhowasgoingtobetheGoodCopand
who’dbetheBadCop.”

“What?”hewhisperedback,butthenthedooropenedandMorganwasstandingthere,smiling,butclearlysurprisedtoseethem.
“Gwyn!Wells!Whatbringsy’allallthewayouthere?”
“Weneedtotalktoyouaboutsomethings,Morgan,”Gwynsaid,andwithoutwaitingforaninvitation,madeherwayinside,
forcingMorgantomoveoutoftheway.

Wellsfollowed,andifhe’dhopedthehousemightbeslightlylessawfulinthedaylight,hewassorelydisappointed.Everything
aboutitstillpulsedwiththatfeelinghecouldonlydescribeaswrong,theheavydrapesanddarkfurnitureseemingtoabsorballthelightintheplace
Gwyn’sbootsclickedonthehardwoodfloorsasshemadeherwayintothesittingroom,andMorgantrailedbehind,herbrow
furrowed.LikeGwynandWells,she,too,wasallinblack,adrapeykindofgownthatreallydidn’tdomuchtochangethe
impressionshewassomesortofevilwitch.

“Asyouknow,Morgan,”Gwynsaid,foldingherarmsoverherchest,“WellsandIareresponsibleforoverseeingthemagicin
GravesGlenandmakingsurethatit’susedresponsiblyandsafely.”

Morgan’seyesflickedbackandforthbetweenthem.“Iknewyourmagicnowcontrolledthistown,Gwyn,”shesaidslowly,and
Gwynnodded,herexpressionstern.

DidthatmakehertheBadCop?WashesupposedtobeGoodCopnow?
Clearinghisthroat,Wellsadded,“Therehavebeensome…abnormalities,magicallyspeaking,sinceyoucametotownthat
haveGwynandIbothconcerned.”

NowMorganlookedgenuinelyconfused,herbraceletsclinkingtogetherassheplacedahandononenarrowhip.“Whatdoyou
mean?”

ComingtostandnexttoGwyn,Wellsmimickedherpose,thenthoughtbetterofitlesttheylookedliketheywereposingfor
analbumcover.

Instead,heclaspedhishandsbehindhisbackandsaid,“WeknowyouwereaskedtoleavePenhavenCollegetenyearsago.”
SomethinginMorgan’sexpressionwenthardatthat,herredlipspressingtightlytogether.
“And,”hewenton,“weknowyouhaveacollectionof…well,letussayquestionableartifactsinyourattic.”

“Iknewthetwoofyouweren’tjustmakingoutinthere,”shesaid,tryingtosmileagain,butitlookedmorelikeshewas
baringherteeth.

“Thirdly,”Wellscontinued,“thereissomesortofmagicinthishousethatfranklysetsmyteethonedgeandhasnorational
explanation.Oneofthesethingswouldbecauseforconcern,Morgan,butallofthemtogether?”

“GravesGlenhasbeencursedbefore,andwepulleditbackfromthebrink,”Gwynsaidnow,steppingforwardasMorganactually
shrankbackalittle.“Sowe’realittleprotectiveofourtown,andItakeitespeciallypersonallywhensomeonestartsfuckingwithmymagic.”

Morganhadseemednervousbefore,butnowsheslidrightbackintoconfused.“What?”
“Mymagic,”Gwynsaid.“It’snotworking,andthatstartedrightaroundthesametimeyoucametotown.Sowhateveritisyou’vedone,Isuggestyouundoit.Now.”

Yes,clearlyGwynwasBadCopbecauseWellsthoughthemightbealittlefrightenedofherrightnow.
Andpossiblymorethanalittleturnedon.
“I,Ihaven’tdoneanythingtoyourmagic,Gwyn,”Morgansaid,andWellsstudiedher,thecornersofhismouthturningdown.
Maybeshewasaremarkablygoodactress,buthethoughtshemightbetellingthetruth.
Gwynseemedlessconvinced,hereyesnarrowing,andMorgansighed,wavingonehand,hersleevemakingadramaticarc.
“IwasaskedtoleavePenhavenbecauseRosa,Harrison,andI,alongwithMerryMurphyandGraceLi,weredoingforbiddenmagic.
Glamoursonhumans,makingplainpiecesofpaperlooklikemoney,changingourappearances,thatsortofthing.Itwas…
well,itwasn’tharmless,Iknowthatnow,butwewerekids,andwethoughtwewerehavingfun.”

Shesuckedherlowerlipbetweenherteeth,twobrightspotsofcolorhighonhercheeks.“Butitwasembarrassing.Everyone
knowingwe’dbeenkickedouteveniftheynevercalleditsomethingthatcrass.SowhenIcameback,Iwanted…Idon’t
know,tomakeasplash,Iguess.ToshoweveryonehowfarI’dcomeupintheworld.”

Herhandmoved,fingersdriftingthroughtheair,andthewallsaroundthemseemedtoblurandsway,makingWellsblinkand
pinchthebridgeofhisnose.

Hecouldstillseethesilkwallpaper,thegildedportraits,theheavyvelvetdrapes,buttheywobbled,grewtransparent.
Behindthem,hecouldmakeoutplainpiecesoflumber,cottoncurtains.

Gwynturnedinaslowcircle.
“Thewholeplaceisaglamour,”shesaid,andMorgannodded.
“Iknow.Clearly,Ididn’tlearnmylessonthere,butIpromise,noonewashurtbythis.Iwantedtocomebacktotowna
success,andItriedtomagickupanentirehouse,but,Goddess,thatwashard,soitseemedeasiertodothis.Ireallywasgoingtoworkonmakingitallrealeventually,butIwantedtothrowapartybeforetheSamhainseasonkickedoff.”
Thewallsstoppedmoving,seemingtopopbackintoplace,andWellsblinkedagain,tryingtomakehimselfseestraight.That
wouldexplainwhathewasfeeling,though.Aglamourthatbig,thatheavy,wasboundtomesswithhisperceptionofmagic.

“Whataboutthethingsintheattic?”heasked,puttinghishandsinhispockets.“Arethoseglamours,too?”
“No,unfortunatelythoseareveryreal.Iboughtanotherwitch’sestatesightunseen,andwhenIopenedthetrunks,Iwas
ashorrifiedasyouwere.ButIdidn’twanttosellanythingtothewrongsortofwitch,soIjustputitallupthere.”

TurningbacktoGwyn,Morgansaid,“That’swhatIwasgoingtoshowHarrison.Hewasthinkingaboutbuyingallofitandfinding
awaytosafelydisposeofitall.”

Droppingherhead,shesighed.“Sothereyouhaveit.Stupid,Iknow,allvaguelymortifying,andIrealizeIhavefucked
upanykindofgoodimpressionIwashopingtomake,butIpromise,Gwyn.”

Crossingtheroom,shetookGwyn’shandsinhers.“Ihavenotdoneanythingtoyourmagic.Ineverwould.Icamebackhere
onceIheardaboutyouandyourfamilytakingoverbecausewe’dalwaysbeenfriends,andI…IthoughtmaybeGravesGlen
couldbehomeagain.I’msosorry.”

“No,I’msorry,”Gwynsaidwithasigh,andWellshatedthewayhershouldersslumped.“Ishouldn’thaveaccusedyouofanything.AndI’mgladyou’reback,genuinely.”ShegaveMorgan’shandsalittleshake,smiling.“Wearefriends,andyou’rewelcomeinGravesGlen.Justmaybefindanew,lesscreepyhouseandgetridofSatan’syardsaleupthere?”
Morganlaughed,nodding.“That’sadeal,”shesaid,wrappingherarmsaroundGwyninaquickhug.
Whenshepulledback,shegaveGwynanothersympatheticpat.“Andseriously,I’llhelpwiththismagicissueifyouwant.
I’veheardofthiskindofthinghappeningbefore,andI’msurethere’sasolution.”

WellscouldseeGwynwillingherselftobelievethesame,gatheringupthatconfidencesheworelikearmor.“Thatwouldbe
great,Morgan,thankyou,”shesaid,andthenshenoddedatWells.

“Weshouldheadbacktotown.”
AftermakingplanstotalkaboutsomethingcalledtheGatheringwithMorganlater,Gwynleft,Wellsjustbehindher,andthey
weresilentastheymadetheirwaybacktohertruck.

ThesilencestretchednearlytoMainStreetbeforeGwynsighedandsaid,“I’mgladMorgan’snotevil,butIgottabehonest,
Esquire.I’mreallydisappointedMorgan’snotevil.”

Wellssmiled,pickingupherhandoffherlapandkissingthebackofit.“Merelyaminorsetbackonthepathtotriumph,”
heassuredher,andshesniffed,onecornerofhermouthkickingup.

“Justthisonce,I’mgonnaallowthatkindoftalk.”
Penhallow’swasmiraculouslystillinonepiece,andWellsspenttherestofthedaytherewhileGwynandherBabyWitches
ranSomethingWicked.

Asnightfell,hewasjustabouttostartclosingupwhenhesawherheadedacrossthestreet,andforamoment,hewonderedifherpromiseaboutthefireplacewasabouttobefulfilled.
Butthenhesawthethreewitchestrailingbehindherandunderstoodthiswasn’tthattypeofcall.
More’sthepity.
Severalminuteslater,hefoundhimselfsittinginoneofthearmchairsinfrontofthecracklingfire,Gwynintheonenext
tohim,ParkerandCaitbothshovedintothechairjusttotheirright,andSamstretchedoutonthecarpet,pagingthrough
oneofWells’sspellbooks.

“TherehastobeareasonGlinda’smagichasgonetitsup,”shesaid.“Ifit’snotMorgan,maybeit’ssomeotherwitch?”
“Maybeit’sacurse,”Caitoffered.“Likewhatyouandyourcousindidtoherhusband.”
“Thatwasanaccident,”Gwynsaid.“Anditturnedouttobealotmorecomplicatedthanthat.”
“Stillworthlookinginto,”Caitinsisted.
Gwynshrugged,andWellswasstruckbyhowtiredshelookedthereinthefirelight,howslightlywilted,herfacepaleagainst
thedeepredvelvetofthechair.

Withoutthinkinghereachedacrossthespacebetweenthem,liftingherhandfromthearmofherchairandtanglingtheirfingers
together,palmstouching.

Gwyn’sheadswungaround,andherlipscurvedintoafondsmile,somelifesparkinginthoselovelyeyes,andWellssmiled
back.

“Whaaaaaatthefuck?”

Ah,yes.
Theyhadanaudience.
Samwaswatchingthemwithhermouthopen,andCaithadherhandsstuffedagainstherlips,hereyeswide.Parkerwasgrinning
sohardtheirfaceseemedtobeindangerofsplitting,andWellsrolledhiseyes,hisearsred.

“Allright,allright,”hemuttered,droppingGwyn’shandasthethreefinallyexplodedintoacacophonyofgigglesandquestions.
“Howlong?!Howlonghaveyoutwobeenkeepinganillicitloveaffairfromus?!”
“Oooh,Ithoughttheotherday,whenweweregoingtodoThePlan,youguysweregivingeachotherhornylooks,andthenI
was,like,‘No,theyhateeachother,’butIguesshatesometimesishornybecausenowyou’reholdinghands?Like?”

“Areyouallowedtodosexwithyourcousin’shusband’sbrother?Haveyoueventhoughtofthefamilytreeissue?”

Laughing,GwynkickedonefootatSamasWellspointedimperiouslytowardthedoor.“Out.Out,youheathens.”
“Whatever,you’renotmyrealdad,”Parkersaid,gettingoutofthechair,andthatsetoffanotherroundoflaughterasthey
pulledCaitoutofthechair,Samgatheringupherbookandherjacket.

Wellsfollowedthemtothefrontdoor,ignoringtheircontinuedteasing,finallylockingthedoorbehindthemastheyspilled
outontothestreet,stillhootingandtalkingoveroneanother,CaitleapingonParker’sbackasthethreeofthemmadetheir
waytowardtheCoffeeCauldron.

Shakinghishead,smilinginspiteofhimself,WellsflippedthesigntoClosed,thenturnedaround,handsinhispocketsashemadehiswayaroundtheshelvesandbacktothefireplace.

“Farbeitfrommetospeakillofyourmentoringskills,Jones,butthosethreeareamenaceandshould—”
HiswordsdiedinhisthroatashetookinGwyn,standingnakedinthefirelight.
“Ididwarnyou,”shetoldhim,andWells,mouthgonedry,nodded.
“Youdid.ButIthoughtaftereverything,thatplanmightbeonhold.”
Shewalkedforward,slippingintohisarms,andhishandssmoothedoverherskin,warmfromthefire.“I’mdisappointed,”
sheacknowledged,stretchinguptokisshim.“IwishithadbeenMorgan.AndIreally,reallywantmymagicback.”

Wellsmadeadistressedsoundatthat,butsheonlykissedhimagain,lipscurvingagainsthismouth.
“AndI’mgoingtogetitback,”shepromisedhimasshebeganwalkinghimbackwardtowardhischair.
“I’vegotthisbiggorgeousbrainofmineplusallthewitchyresourcesIcouldwant.I’vegotmyfamily,I’vegottheBaby
Witches—don’tgivemethatlook—andI’vegotyou.”

Thebacksofhiskneesbumpedtheseatofhischair,andWellssatdownheavily,pullingherwithhim.
“Youhaveme,”heagreed,anditsoundedlikeapromise.
Avow.
Anditwas.Chapter29
GwynhadknownwhensheagreedtoserveontheGravesGlenHalloweenSeasonPlanningCommittee,itwasn’tgoingtobeagreat
time,butshewasstillsomehowsurprisedbytheamountofpaperworkinvolved.

“Everyonehastheirfolder,right?”Janeasked,standingattheheadofthetableinthetinytownhallwheretheyhadthese
meetings,andGwynglancedaroundattheothercommitteemembers,allofwhom,likeGwyn,hadafolderthatlookedlikeit
hadtocontainatleastfiftythousandsheetsofpaper.TherewerevendorformsfortheFallFestival,andsign-upsheets
forwhatstoreswouldbedoingwhichHalloweenevents,plusabunchofwaivers,and,Gwynthought,maybetheentiretowncharter.

Gwynhadbeentoahandfulofthesemeetingsoverthepastfewmonths,butshe’dmostlyletVivibetheJonesFamilyRepresentative
atthesethings.Sheprobablyshould’verealizedthatthis,thelastmeetingbeforetheGravesGlenGathering,akatheirfirst
bigHalloweenseasonevent,wasgoingtotakeJanetoherhighestandmostintenseJaneLevel.

Acrossthetable,Morganwassittingupstraight,herhandsfolded,nailsadeepmaroon,andwhenshecaughtGwynlookingather,sheofferedaquicksmile,hereyesbrieflyflickingtoJaneandthenbacktoGwyn,wideningslightlyinaSothisisalotkindoflook.

ThekindoflookGwynusuallygaveViviatthesethings,ifshewashonest.
Gwynsmiledback,buttherewasstillalittlebitofqueasyguiltinherstomachoverherbigsceneatMorgan’stheother
day.

Ormaybethatwasjusttheterriblecoffeetheyservedinthetownhall.
Or,shereflectedasJanebegantotalkaboutthenewartisanalpopcorntruckthatwouldbeattheGatheringthisyear,it
wasbecauseworryabouthermagicandwhathadhappenedwasstartingtognawather.

Overthepastfewdays,Gwynhadn’tthoughtofmuchelse,andresearchingwaystofixwhateverwasbrokenhadstartedtaking
upallofherfreetime.

SheandWellshadtriedaritualmeanttostrengthenmagic,hopingherswasmaybejusttired.Thathadtobeathing,right?
Butthathadn’tworked.
TheBabyWitchesfoundaspellthatwoulddampensomeone’spower(“LikeaWi-Fiblocker,”Parkerhadoffered)butthatwas
easytoundo.Drinkspringwatercollectedunderafullmoon,takeabathwithquartzandsalt,boom,dampenerremoved.

Gwynhaddoneallthosethings,andstillnomagic.
ItwasgettingharderandhardertoputofftellingViviandElaine,butViviwasduehomejustbeforeHalloween,andElainewashardtoreachoutthereinthedesert.Besides,itwasn’tthekindofthingshereallywantedtotellthemoverthephone,and,secretly,shewashopingshecouldjustfixitonherownwithouteverhavingtoworrythem.
Therehadtobeasolution,afterall.LookatwhathadhappenedtoRhys.Ithadn’tbeeneasy,butthatsituationhadbeen
alotmoredire,andthey’dtotallyfixedit!Madethingsbetter,even.

Sotherewasananswersomewhere—shejusthadtofindit.
“Andthat’sgoodwithyou,Gwyn?”
Shit.
Glancingup,GwynsawJanelookingatherwiththosebigbrowneyesofhers,andwonderedwhatexactlyshewassupposedto
begoodwith,andhowtogetoutofthiswithoutJanerealizingshe’dtunedoutthelastfiveminutesorso.

“IthinkGwynhassomuchonherplatewithSomethingWickedthatmaybesomeoneelseshouldworryabouttheglowsticks.”
Morgansteppedinsmoothly,flippingopenherfolderandmakinganotewithapurplepen.“Icanhandlethat,noproblem.”

Janesaggedwithrelieflikethefutureofeverycitizen’ssurvivaldependedonhavingglowsticks.“Thanks,Morgan.That
willbeperfect.”

Themeetingbrokeupsoonafterthat,andasGwynmadeherwayoutside,Morganfellintostepbesideher.
“Sothisisbehindthecurtain,”shesaid,gesturingbacktowardthemeetingroom.“Ihavetosay,whenIwasastudenthere,IhadnoideahowmucheffortthehumanswereputtingintoHalloween.”
Shiftingherbagtoherothershoulder,Gwyntookadeepbreathofthecrispnightair.“Trustme,itwasn’talwaysthisintense.
WedidFounder’sDay,andofcourseHalloweenwasbig,butJaneaddedtheFallFestival,andnowthatFounder’sDayisthe
GravesGlenGathering,she’sgoingevenharder.Nextyear,noneofuswillbeabletosleepfromSeptemberfirsttoSamhain,
probably.”

Morganlaughedsoftlyatthat,herheelsclickingonthesidewalk.“It’sfun,though.Seeingthistimeofyearthroughtheir
eyes.”

Thenightwascool,andGwyntuggedherleatherjacketmoretightlyaroundherasleavesskittereddownthestreet.“When
youputitlikethat,itdoessoundkindoffun,”Gwynacknowledged,andglancedoveratMorgan.

“Ithinkyouactuallyenjoytheplanningcommittee.Massivefoldersandall.”
“Themassivefoldersareabigpartoftheappeal,yes.”
“Nottogildthelily,butifyoustayfriendlywithJane,shemightevengiveyoualabelmakeratsomepoint.”
“Ooooh,nowthatisthedream.”

Theybothlaughedthen,andGwynstopped,turningtolookatMorgan,thenightwindblowingherhairbackfromherface.
“Stillfeelingreallybadaboutbasicallythinkingyouwereevil,”shesaid,andMorgandismissedthatwithawaveofher
hand.

“It’sfine,”Morgansaid,kickingatastrayleafwiththetoeofoneeleganthighheel.“Imean,Iwould’vebeensuspicious,too.Icomebacktotownallofasudden,Ihavethisweirdhouseandallthiscrazymagicstuffintheattic.”
ShegaveGwynaslightlychagrinedsmile.“AndIhavealwaysbeenalittletry-hard,Iknow.Youjustalwaysseemedsocool
tomebackatcollege,andnowyou’rebasicallyrunningthisplacewithyourmagic,andI…Iwantedyoutolikeme.”

“Ido,”Gwynsaid,reachingoutandgivingMorgan’sarmalittlesqueeze.“Seriously.AndIlikeyouevenmorenowthatyou’ve
savedmefromtrackingdowntenthousandglowsticks.”

Groaning,Morgantippedherheadback.“Don’tremindme.AtleastshewantsthoseforHalloween,nottheGathering.I’vestill
gottime.”

ThenshelookedbackdownatGwyn,frowning.“DoyouthinkIcanmaybejustmakethose?Withmagic?”
“Itmightbeworthashot,”Gwynsaid,smilingevenasherstomachsankalittle.“AndI’dhelpyou,but…”
Shetrailedoff,andnowitwasMorgan’sturntotouchherarm.“Stillnomagic?”
“No,”Gwynsaid,sighing,thentriedtogivehermostconfidenthairtoss.“Butwe’reonit.”
“Ifyouneedanyhelp,I’mhereforyou,”Morgansaid.“AndIcanlookthroughallthatstuffIhaveupintheattic.Not,”
sheadded,holdinguponehand,“thereallyscary-lookingstuff.Buttherearesomeoldbooksandthingsupthere,mightbe
worthittotry?Whydon’tyoucomebynextweek?”

Gwynnoddedevenasthethoughtofspendinganymoretimeinthatatticmadehershudder.“Ijustmightdothat,”shesaid,andthescarythingwas,sheactuallymeantit.IfsheandWellscouldn’tfigurethisthingoutsoon,evenaterrifyingatticfullofancienttorturedevicesdidn’tsoundsobad.
SheandMorgansaidgoodnight,andGwynwalkedtherestoftheblocktowherehertruckwasparked.
Wellswassupposedtobewaitingforherbackathercabinsotheycouldworkonmoresolutionsforrestoringhermagic,but
whenGwynopenedthedoor,itwasclearanentirelydifferentkindofsorcerywasbrewing.

Followingthemouthwateringscentfillingthehouse,GwynwalkedintothekitchentoseeWellsstandingatherstove,her
biggestsouppotbubblingawayontheburner.Hehadadishclothtuckedintohisbeltandwashummingtohimselfashestirred,
andGwynleanedagainstthedoorframe,happytowatchhimwithouthimknowingforabit.

Itwasn’tjustthattherewassomethingdeeplyappealingaboutamanwhoknewhowtocook—althoughthatcouldnotbediscounted—and
itwasn’thowgoodhelookedthereinherkitchen,hishairalittlemussed,hissleevesrolledup.Itwasthefeelingin
herchestathowcomfortableheseemedthereinherkitchen,inherworld,SirPurrcivaltwiningaroundhisankles,clearly
hopingforasampleofwhateverwasinthatpot.

Wellsfeltrighthere.Inherspace.Withherandhercat,slippingrightintothingsliketherehadalwaysbeenaWells-shapedholeinher
life.

Andthescariestpartofthatwasitdidn’tscareheratall.
“Mama!MamamamamamaSOUPtreats!”
Wellsturnedaroundthen,andGwynpointedafingerathercat,narrowinghereyes.“Snitch,”shesaid,andPurrcivaltrottedover,cominguponhisbacklegsashepressedhisfrontpawstoherleg,stretching.
BendingdowntopickupPurrcival,Gwynnoddedtowardthestove.“Pleasetellmethat’salmostreadybecauseI’veneversmelled
anythingsogoodinmyentirelife.”

Clearlypleasedwithhimself,Wellssmiled,givingthepotanotherstirbeforeliftingthewoodenspoonandblowingoverit,
offeringheraquicktaste.

Sheleanedin,andyes,whateveritwashewascookingtastedjustasdivineasitsmelled,andshewidenedhereyesathim.
“Esquire,younevermentionedyouwereaKitchenWitch.”

Hehuffedoutalaugh,reachingoverandswipingabitofthestewfromherlowerlipwithhisthumb,asimpletouchthat
stillhadwarmthspreadingthroughoutherbody.

“I’mnot,”hesaid,turningbacktothepot.“Isimplyhadalotoftimetopracticemycookingskillswhilstnoonecame
intomypub.”

PuttingSirPurrcivalbackdown,Gwyncrossedtothesinktowashherhandsbeforegrabbingacoupleofbowlsandspoons.
AsWellsladledoutthesoup,sheasked,“Sowhywereyouthere?InWalesrunningapubnoonewentto?Imean,you’reclearly
asuper-talentedwitch,whypourbeersforaliving.”

“Excuseme,Iwaspullingpints,”Wellscorrected,carryingbothsoupbowlstothetable.He’dlitcandles,shesaw,thenicebayberryoneshermomhadmade,
andthatmadeherbitebackasmileasshetookherseat.

“And,”Wellscontinued,sittingacrossfromher,“itwasmorethanjustapub.IthadoncebeenanAnchorPoint.”
“What’sthat?”Gwynasked,tearingoffahunkofbreadfromtheplateWellshadplacedinthecenterofthetable.
“Oldbitofmagic,”hesaid.“Notunliketheleylineshere,butnotasstrong.Basically,myfamilyplantedasparkoftheir
magicinthecenterofwhatwouldbecomethevillageofDweniniaid,sortof…stakingaclaimagainstotherwitches,I
guess.Anyotherwitchwhocameintotheareawouldbeabletosensetherewasalreadyacoventhere.”

“Sodoesthatmagicfuelyouuporsomething?”Gwynasked,intrigued,andWellsshookhishead.
“No,nothinglikethat.It’smorejustabitofourhistory,anditwasimportanttoDathatitbepreserved.SoIranthe
pubanddidtheoddspellandruneworktokeepthatlittlebitofmagicalive.”

“Andnowthatyou’renotthere,it’lldie?”
Wellsshrugged,scoopingupaspoonfulofsoup.“Morelikeacandlegoingout.Buthonestly,itwastime.Wewerejustdelaying
theinevitable,andIthinkDafinallyunderstoodthat.”

Gwynstirredherspoonthroughhersoup.“Sothat’swhyyouleftschool,”shesaid.“Tobethekeeperoftheflameasitwere.”
Henodded.“Myunclehadbeenthereforages,butwhenhedied,aPenhallowneededtotakehisplace,so…”
Hetrailedoff,andforalongmoment,theywerequiet,theonlysoundthescrapingoftheirspoonsandthewindrattling
thetreesjustbeyondthefrontporch.

“Imetyourdad,”Gwynfinallysaid,andWellslookedup,hiseyesveryblueinthecandlelight.
“Oh,Iamaware,”hesaid,andshelaughedatthat,pushingherhairbackoffhershoulders.
“Wewerenoteachother’sbiggestfan,”shesaid,andWellssnorted,shakinghisheadashelookedbackdownathisbowl.
“He’sallbark,notmuchbite,”hesaid,butGwynrememberedhowSimonhadsatatthisverytable,gloweringatallofthem,
andwasn’tsurethatwasactuallytrue.

“Iknowhecancomeacrossas…well,I’msureRhyswouldhavetheappropriatelycolorfultermforit,buthewasn’talways
likethat.Ithinkwhenmymotherdied,hefounditeasiertoretreatintohismagicandhisfamilyhistory,allofthat.
Itgavehimsomethingtofocusoninsteadofhispain.”

Reachingacrossthetable,Gwyngavehishandaquicksqueeze.“Rhyssaidyourmomwasprettygreat.”
Wellsreturnedthesqueezewithatightsmilebeforedrawinghishandback.“Hedoesn’trememberher.Notreally.Hewasonly
fourwhenshedied.Bowenwasjustfive.Idon’tthinkhehasmanymemoriesofher,either,andcertainlynotofherandDa
together.”

“Butyoudo,”Gwynsaid,andhenodded.
“ShewasalotlikeRhys,actually.Funny.Charming.ShewasgoodforDa,andwithouther,Ithinkhewas…lost,really.
Magicgavehimsomethingtoholdonto,somethingthatmadehimfeelconnectedtotheworldagain.”

Wellsgaveanotheroneofthosesmilesthatwasn’treallyasmileatall.“Itcancertainlybealittlemuchattimes,hisobsessionwithfamilylegacy,butI’lltakethegrumpyoldsodquizzingmeaboutsomePenhallowwhodiedin1432overwhathewasthosemonthsafterMamdied.”
Gwynnoddedevenasherheartbrokejustthelittlestbit.Itmadesensenow,Wells’sdutifulness,hisloyaltytohisfather.
ButifRhyshadbeenfour,thatmeantWellshadonlybeenseven.Sevenyearsold,hismomgone,hisbrotherssolittle,and
hisfatherlostingrief.

“Christ,thisisnotthedinnerconversationI’dexpectedustohavetonight,”Wellssaid,turningbacktohissoup.“Just
afewweeksinAmerica,andlookatme,talkingaboutfeelings.”

Gwynsmiledandkickedhisfootgentlyunderthetable.“It’saslipperyslopefromtalkingaboutyourchildhoodtostarting
anInstagramthat’snothingbutsunsetpicturesandinspirationalquotes,Esquire.”

“Dulynoted.”Heglancedbackupather.“Whataboutyou?Idon’tthinkI’veeverheardyoumentionyourfather.”
“Taliesin?”Gwynshrugged.“He’sgreat,buthe’sdefinitelyafatheronlyinthestrictest,biologicalsense.Momdecided
shewasreadytohaveababybutdidn’twantallthehang-upsthatcamealongwithmarriageorco-parentingandallthat.
Sosheverysensiblypickedthecutest,nicestguyattheRenFaireinTennessee,etvoilà.”Gwyngesturedtoherself.“Moi.Hesendsmeacardonmybirthday—Imean,inthegeneralvicinityofmybirthday,he’ssweetbutkindofaflake—andwe’refriendsonsocialmedia,butthat’saboutasfarasitgoes.Which
worksforme.MomwasallIneeded.”

Gwynmissedhermom,sherealized,andwonderedwhatElainewouldsayaboutWells.Shehadn’tlikedSimon,either,butsheadoredRhys.AnditwaseasytopictureElaineatthistablewiththem,Wellsapartofthings.
Partofthefamily.
Morethoughtssheshouldn’tbethinking,andyet…
“So,whatdoyouthinkyourdadwouldfeelaboutallthis?”Gwynasked,gesturingbetweenthetwoofthemwithherspoon.
Wellsplacedhisownspoonbesidehisbowlandlacedhisfingerstogether,studyingher.“Thetwoofuseatingsouptogether?”
heasked.“Orthetwoofusworkingtogethertorestoreyourmagic?”

“Thetwoofusbanging,”shereplied,andhegavethathuffedlaughagain,sittingbackslightly,hishairfallingoverhis
forehead.

“Well,asI’mnotinthebusinessoftalkingaboutmypersonallifewithmyfather,Icansafelysaythatisabridgeweneed
notcrossanytimesoon.”

Butwewillhavetocrossit,Gwynthought.Ifwekeepdoingthis.
Andshewasprettysuretheyweregoingtokeepdoingthis.
Asiftoillustratethepoint,SirPurrcivalsaunteredover,andratherthantryingtojumpupinthemiddleofthetable,
curleduppeacefullyonthefloornexttoWells’schair,tiltinghisheadtolookupathim.

“Esquire,”hesaid,hislittlevoicesleepyandfond,andWellschuckled,leaningdowntopethim.

AndsuddenlyGwynknewshewasinvery,verydeeptrouble.Chapter30
ThemorningoftheGravesGlenGatheringwasgrayandgloomy,thefirstrealchillofautumnsweepingthroughthevalley.
Itwas,inotherwords,completelyperfect.
OritwouldhavebeenifGwynwasn’tstillworriedabouthermagic.
Afterdinnertwonightsbefore,sheandWellshaddugbackintotheirresearch,comingupwithaspellforacharmedcrystal
thatwassupposedto“restorewhatislost,”buttheonlyeffectithadhadwasthatGwynfinallyfoundapairofgreenConverse
sneakersshe’dthoughtweregoneforever.

Awin,butnotexactlywhatshe’dbeenhopingfor.
Wellshadassuredhertheywouldkeeptrying,andsheclungtothatevenassheknewitwasfinallytimetoletViviandElaine
knowwhatwasgoingonwithher.

Butfirst,sheneededtogetWellsthroughhisfirstbigGravesGlenholiday.
She’dtriedtowarnhimthenightbeforethattheHolidayFormerlyKnownasFounder’sDaywashuge,kickingofftheHalloweenseasonandsendingthefirstbiginfluxoftouristsintothetown.
He’dsmiledthatinfuriatinglysmugEsquireSmileandsaidsomethinglike,“Prithee,Gwynnevere,donotfretforIamwellpreparedforanyabundantonslaughtofvariousandsundrytravelerstoourfairtown.”

Okay,thatwasmaybeaslightexaggeration,butthat’swhatshe’dheard.
Now,asshesituatedherselfbehindthecounterofSomethingWicked,shesawalinealreadygatheringoutsidePenhallow’s
andsmiledtoherself.

Hopeyoubrewedalotoftea,Esquire.
Thenextfewhourspassedquickly,customerspouringintothestore,Gwynnearlyrunraggedgettingextraboxesfromtheback,
ringingpeopleup,answeringquestionsaboutcrystals,andbyten,shewasfrowningattheclock.

SamwouldbeattheCoffeeCauldrontoday,butwheretheheckwereParkerandCait?Itwasn’tlikethemtomisswork,although
therewassomuchgoingonduringtheGatheringthatmaybethey’dgottendistracted.

Gwyndidn’thavetimetoworryaboutit,though,becausethereweremorepeoplecominginthedoor,andthenakidbumped
intoherdisplayofplasticpumpkins,sendingthemcrashingtotheground.

Aroundnoon,shewasfinallyabletotakealittlebreak,throwingupasignsayingshe’dbebackinfifteenminutes.
Thestreetswerefull,theairscentedwithpopcornandcaramelandapple,andGwynsnaggedapopcornballbeforemakingherwayintoPenhallow’s.
“Yes,welcometo—oh,thanktheGoddess,it’syou.”
GwynhadseenWellsirritatedandshe’dseenhimworriedandshe’dseenhimamusedandshe’dseenhimconsumedwithlust,
butthiswasthefirsttimeshe’deverseenhimlookharried,anditwas,shehadtoadmit,kindofgreat.

“Iwarnedyou,”shesaid,saunteringupbehindthecounterwherehehadseveralteacupslinedupinsaucers,teapotinhand
ashefilledeachone.Nexttohim,therewasastackofcrystalswaitingtobewrappedaswellasboxesoftea.

“Yes,yes,everyonelovesaroundofIToldYouSo,”Wellssnapped,andGwynsmirked,peelingoffapartofthepopcornball
andpoppingitintohismouth.

Hemadeapleasedsoundashechewed,andthen,glancingaround,duckedhisheadtopressthebriefestofkissesbehindher
earbeforeresuminghisTeaDuties.“Ifyou’llwrapthosecrystalsupforme,Iwillmakeitwellworthyourwhilelater.”

“Oooh,eroticbribery,myfavorite.”
Finishingthepopcornball,Gwyndustedherhandsoffanddidasheasked,ringingupseveralcustomersafterward,thenmaking
surehehadenoughbagsneartheregister.

“Aboveandbeyond,”Wellscommented,takinginherhandiworkbeforequirkinganeyebrowather,andshepattedhisshoulder,
winking.

“I’dhydrateifIwereyou,”shesaid,andhehuffedwithamusement,sendingheronherwaywithalookthatpromisedhewouldmorethanfulfillhispartoftheirbargain.
Steppingbackoutontothestreet,Gwynthoughtwhatitmightbelike,havingthiseveryday.NottheGathering—herbankaccount
wouldlovethat,hersanitywouldnot—butworkingwithWells.Thetwoofthemdroppingintoeachother’sstore,helpingout.

Ateam.
Thethoughtwarmedhermorethanshe’dexpected,andshewassohighonthatfeelingshealmostdidn’tseetheBabyWitches,
huddledbyherlockeddoor.

“Wherehaveyoutwobeen?”shedemandedofCaitandParker.“AndSam,whyaren’tyouattheCoffeeCauldron?”
Lookingmorecloselyatthem,Gwynwrinkledhernose.“Arey’allokay?Youlook—”
“We’vebeenawakefortwentyhoursandwe’veeachhadwaymoreRedBullthananydoctorwouldthinkwise,”Samsaid.“But
wethinkwe’reontosomething,Glinda.Withyourmagic.”

Blinking,Gwynunlockedthedoor,andtheyhurriedintothestore.Theyallhadbags,shesawnow,bulgingwithwhatlooked
likeheavybooks,andtheywerejitterywithexcitementandcaffeine.“Whatexactlyhaveyoufound?”sheasked,evenaspeople
begandriftingintothestoreagain.

Samshookherhead.“Wedon’twanttosayjustyet,butwe’reclose.Reallyclose.Canweuseyourstorageroom?”
Lookingaround,Gwynsighed.Sheneededhelpinthestore,butthesethreewereclearlyinnoshapetoprovideit,soshe
nodded,flickingahandtowardthecurtain.“Goon.Butnofire!”

Theyhurriedacrossthestore,disappearingintotheback,andGwynsteeledherselffortheonslaught.
Roughlytwentythousandplasticpumpkinslater,SomethingWickedwasofficiallyclosedfortheday,andGwynwasprettysure
she’dneverbeensotiredinallherlife.UsuallyshehadVivihelpingout,andshe’dalsodonetheoddteacharmtokeep
hergoingthroughoutsuchalongday.Nohelpandnomagicreallyworeagirlout.

Whensheheardtheravenoverthedoor,shewishedhermagicwereworkingifonlytosendwhoeverthatwasspinningbackout
ontothestreet.

ButitwasonlyWells,lookingasbeatasshefelt,andshewalkedovertohim,practicallycollapsingagainsthimwithan
exhaustedmoan.

Hisarmscamearoundherevenashepretendedtosagtotheground,andGwynlaughed,holdingontighter.
“RememberhowIsaidIenjoyedbeingashopkeeper?”heasked.“Thatwasadifferentme.Afoolishme.Eversomuchyounger
then.”

“Welcometolifeinatouristtownduringtouristseason,”shereplied,andhekissedhertemple,beardtickling.
“IcanseeIhavemuchtolearn.”
“AtleastyouhaveaweektoprepareforFallFestival,”Gwynremindedhim,andWellsgroaned,lookingupattheceiling.
“St.Bugi’sballs,howmanyfestivalscanonetownhave?That’stheonewiththebooths,right?Wherewesellourwaresin
afield?”

“Mmm-hmm.Andthecaramelapplepies,whichmakeitworthit,Ipromise.Pluswegettowearcostumes.”
Wellstiltedhisheadbackdown,eyesnarrowing.“Isthatatrick?AreyougoingtoshowupinnormalclotheswhileIlooklikeagitinsorcerer’srobes?”
“Ibetyoulookveryniceinsorcerer’srobes,”Gwyncountered,liftingherfacetoghostakissoverhisjawline,whichhad
hishandstighteningonherhips.

“Ibetyoulookveryniceoutofsorcerer’srobes,”hesaid,andshesmiledathim,reachinguptotwineherarmsaroundhisneck.

“Thatisthecheesiestthingyou’veeversaid,especiallygiventhatyouareveryfamiliarwithwhatIlooklikeunderneathallkindsofclothes.”

Hegrinnedather.“Stillturnedyouon,didn’tit?”
“Littlebit,”sheadmitted,andhisownsmilewidenedasheduckedhisheadtokissher.
Beforehecould,therewasasuddenwhiffofairfrombehindthecurtainleadingtothestorageroom,thescentofsmokecurling
throughthestore.

TurningawayfromWells,Gwynsighed,tuggingathishandasshepulledhimacrossthestore.
“Itoldyouguysnofire,”shesaid,openingthecurtain,Wellsbesideherastheysteppedintothedimspace.
Sam,Cait,andParkerwereallsittinginacircle,runesdrawnonthefloorinfrontoftheminchalk,candlesguttering,
andassheandWellswalkedin,theyallturned,almostasone,andglaredather.

Gwynmadeasurprisedsound.“What—”shestarted,butthensherealizedtheyweren’tlookingatherlikethat.
TheywerelookingatWells.Chapter31
Wellslookedintothethreehostilefacescurrentlysendingdaggershiswayandblinked,confused.Thelasttimehe’dseen
thesethree,they’dbeenlaughingandjokingwithhim.

Nowtheyalllookedliketheycouldhappilyseehisinsidesontheoutside,andhewasn’tsurewhatitwashe’ddonetoeffect
thatchange.

“Whatisit?”Gwynasked,steppingforward,herhandfallingfromhis.
“Yes,didIcommitsomekindofholidayfauxpashere?”heasked,handsinhispockets.“BecauseifIdid—”
“It’syou,dude,”Samsaid,standing,armscrossedoverherchest.“You’rethereasonGwyn’slostherpowers.”
Itwassuchanunexpectedreply—suchanabsurdone—thatWellsactuallylaughedindisbelief.“What?”

Nooneelsewaslaughing,though,andforallthathehadteasedGwynabouthercovenofBabyWitches,inthismoment,each
andeveryoneofthemseemedverygrown-up.Veryserious.

Andverypissedoffathim.
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Gwynaskedthem,herfacethankfullylookingasconfusedasWellsfelt.Butshewasn’tstandingasclosetohimanymore,andwhenSambentdownandpickedupaheavyleatherbook,shetookitwitheagerhands.
“It’sanoldspellandreallyhardtodo.Imean,itwouldtakeyearstofindallthestuffyouneed,”Samsaid,tappinga
pageasGwynreadit,hereyesnarrowed.“Wedidn’tevenlookatitatfirstbecausewhocoulddothiskindofmagic?And
thenParkersawthereferencetotheringandrememberedanotherspell.”

NowParkerstoodup,theirfacesolemninthecandlelightastheyheldoutanotherbook.“That’swhythishasbeensohard
tofind.It’stwospellscombined.SoIlookeduptheoneaboutusingaring,andthat’swhenIsawthis.”

Theypointedtosomethingonthepage,andWellssawGwynstiffen,herthroatworking.
Shelookedupathim,andherfacemightaswellhavebeenamask.
“Yourring,”shesaid,andWellslookeddownathishand,wherehisfather’ssignetringrested.Thejewellookedblackin
thecandlelight,buttherewasnothingmoresinisteraboutit,nosenseofpowerclingingtoit.

“This?”hesaid,holdinguptheoffendinghand.“This…it’safamilyheirloom,notaspell.Beeninthefamilyforgenerations.
Surelyifitcouldtakepowerfromawitch,itwouldhavedonesobeforenow.”

Wordlessly,Gwynhandedhimthebook.
Wellstookit,andherealizedhishandswereshaking.Withanger,yes—ridiculoustothinkhe’dhavehadanythingtodowithtakingGwyn’spower.Butwithfear,too.Hecouldadmitthat.
Thatdistantlookinhereyes…
Thepagewasdifficulttoread,EnglishandWelshcrammedtogetheronnarrowlines,butthere,insetintherightcorner,
wasadrawingofaring.

AringthatlookedverymuchliketheoneWellscurrentlywore.
“No,this…thisisn’t…Idon’tseehow—”
“Whogaveyouthering,Wells?”Gwynasked.Shestoodthere,flankedbyParkerandSam,Caitstillsittingatherfeet,her
facejustasstonyastheothers’,andWellsbegantofeelsomethinglikerealpaniccrawlinguphisthroat.

“Myfather,”headmitted.
“RightbeforehesentyouheretostealGwyn’smagic,”Samsaid,andWellsshookhishead,rubbingahandoverhishair.
“No.No.Ivolunteeredtocome.Myfatherdidn’twantmeinGravesGlen,totellthetruth.The,theringwasagesture,nothingmore.”

“Giveittome.”
Gwynheldoutherhand,andWellsdidn’thesitate,pullingtheringoffhisfingerandplacingitinherpalm.Thiswasall
amistake,afterall.Gwyn’sstudentsweregoodkids,buttheywerestillyoungwitches,stillpronetofuckups,andthat’s
allthiswas.Amonumentalfuckup,samewaythey’dthoughtMorganwastoblame
“Gwynnevere,”hebegan,butshewasalreadyturningaway.
“Isthereawaywecanfindoutforcertain?”sheasked,andSamnodded,movingbacktothecircle.
“Wecanuseourmagictofuelyou,butjustforafewseconds,”shetoldGwyn.“Thatshouldbelongenough,though.”
Gwynnodded,andastheotherssatbackdown,shemovedintothemiddleoftheircircle.
Samlitanothercandle,andParkersketchedanotherruneonthefloorasCaitbeganmurmuringwordsunderherbreath,the
candlesflickering.

Gwynsatthere,hereyesclosed,hisringheldoutinfrontofherastheotherthreejoinedhands.Ittookamoment,but
Wellsfeltit,then,aslowpulseofmagic,risingfromthem,centeringonGwyn,andashewatched,herredhairblewback
fromherface,likesomeonehadjustslammedadoor
Thentheringstartedtoglow.
Firstthesilveritself,thenthejewelinthecenter,pulsingwithdarklight,andWellsfeltasuddensharpstabbingpain
inhishand,likehe’dbeenburned.

Heglanceddown,andthere,onthefingerwherehisringhadsat,asmallblackbandappeared.
Itslitheredoverhisskinashewatchedinhorrifiedfascination,andwhenhelookedbackup,Gwynwaswatchinghim.
“Iswear,”hetoldher,hisheartpounding,almostdizzy.“IswearoneverythingIamthatIdon’tunderstandwhat’sgoing
onhere.”

“What’sgoingonisthatyourfathergaveyouaringcursedwithancientbloodmagicthatslowlydrainspowerawayfromanotherwitch’sbloodline,”Parkertoldhim,theireyesdark.“ProbablybecausehewaspissedoffaboutGwynandherfamilyreplacingyourfamily’smagicinthetown.”

“No,”Wellssaid,shakinghishead.“Myfatherismanythings,I’lladmittothat,butthis…thisisevil.He’sproud
andarrogantandnotalwaysthekindestman,buthe’snotthis.”

Hethoughtbacktothatnightinthepubwhenhisfatherhadseemedsobroken.SosadbutacceptingwhenWellshadsaidhe’d
gotoGravesGlen.He’dcalledhimsonandslippedthatringoff,thatringWellshadseenhimwearhiswholelife.

Therehadtobemoretoit,somethinghewasn’tseeing.
“Gwyn,”hesaidnow,andsheturnedtohim,butthoselovelyeyesofherswereblank,herarmswrappedaroundherbody.“Please.
Youhavetobelieveme.”

“Ibelievethatyoudidn’tknow,”shesaid,hervoiceflat.“Ibelievethatyouwouldneverdosomethinglikethis.Butyes,
Wells,Ibelieveyourfatherwouldloadyoulikeaweaponandsendyouheretodestroymyfamily.”

“Youdon’tknowhim,”Wellsinsisted.“I’mtellingyou,thisis…it’ssomethingelse.WewerewrongaboutMorgan,we’re
wrongaboutthis.”

“Idon’tthinkweare,”shesaid,andhemovedacrosstheroom,wantingtotouchher,needingtotouchher,tomakeherseethattheycouldfixthistogether.

Butshemovedback,andhishandsdroppedtohissides,anoceanopeningupbetweenthem.
“Isthereawaytotakethemagicoutofthering?PutitbackinGwyn?”heaskedSamnow,turningtolookoverhisshoulder.
Sheshookherhead,eyesbright,andWellsrealizedshewastryingnottocry.
“No.Themagicisn’tinthering.It’sinwhoever’sbloodcreatedthespellinthefirstplace.Andpullingmagicoutofone
persontoputintoanotherwithoutsomekindofcursedfuckingobjectisprettyhard.”

“Right.”
Wellsstoodthere,thinking,tryingtoignorehowhefelt,likesomeonehadjuststabbedhiminthechest,hisbloodseeping
acrossthechalkrunesonthefloor.

Thiswashisfault,sohehadtobetheonetofixit.
Andtherewasonlyoneplacehecouldthinkoftostart.
Reachingintothepocketofhiswaistcoat,hisfingerscurledaroundtheTravelingStonehekeptthere.“I’mgoingtomake
thisright,Gwyn,”hesaid.“Ipromise.”

HefocusedonWales,onhome,onSimon.
AndthenGwynandhersadeyesvanishedfromviewaseverythingwentblack.Chapter32
ItwasthemiddleofthenightinWales,butluckilyforWells,hisfatherhadneverkeptthemostregularhours.
WhenhesuddenlyappearedinSimon’slibrary,hisheadspinning,hisstomachlurching,Wellssawhisfatherwasathisusual
spot,nearthelargemaptableunderahugewindowthatfacedtherockyhillsofDweniniaid.

Itwasdim,asitalwayswas,andasWellsstumbledforward,hisfather’sheavybrowsdrewtogether.
“Llewellyn?”
Hecameoutfrombehindthetable,robesswishing,andWellsrememberedahundredothermomentsinthisroom,athousand.
Hisfathercongratulatinghimonhisfirstsuccessfulspell,tellinghimhewasgoingtoPenhaven,askinghimtorunthepub
nowthathisunclewasdead.

Thishadbeenthesceneofnearlyeveryimportantmeetingthey’deverhad,soitfeltrighttobeherenowdealingwithmaybe
themostimportantproblemhe’deverfaced.

“Da,”Wellssaid.“Something’shappened.InGraves—inGlynnBedd.”
“Slowdown,boy,slowdown,”Simonsaid,reachingouttosteadyWells,butWellsshookhimoff.
“I’mfine,butIdon’thavemuchtime.Ineedtoaskyouabout—”
Yourring.
Thewordswererightthereonhislips,butSimon’shandswerestilloutstretched,andinthedimglowoftheironandantler
chandelieroverhead,hissignetringcaughtthelight.

Wellsfeltasthoughthegroundwereveryslowlytiltingunderneathhisfeet,andSimonsteppedforwardagain.
Flinchingback,Wellsraisedhiseyestohisfather’s.“Ithoughtyougavemethatring,”hesaid,andSimonlookedathis
hand.

“Ah,”hesaid,flexinghisfingers.“AndIseeyou’renotwearingyours.”SimonnoddeddownatWells’shand.“Someonealready
catchwise?They’reaquicklot,I’llgivethemthat.Butnevermindit,boy.Itakeitthethingdiditsjob.”

Simonwasalreadyturningaway,andWellsfeltfrozeninplace,bloodwhooshinginhisears.
“Itwasyou,”Wellssaid,andhehatedthathesoundedsurprised.Hatedthattherewasstillsomepartofhim,somewhere,thathad
wantedtobelievehisbrotherswerewrongabouttheirfather.Thathewasabettermanthanthis.

Abetterfatherthanthis.

Simon’sbrowsdrewtogetherashelookedbackatWells,hishandsfoldedinfrontofhim.
“What,didyouthinksomeoneelsecursedaringthatbroughtpainuntoourenemies?”
Hegaveoneofthosehuffinglaughs,theoneWellshadheardhimselfmakeandvowednever,evertomakeagain.
“You…yougavemethatringsothatIcoulddrainthepoweroftheJoneses,”hesaid,stillnotwantingtobelieveit
eventhoughitwassoclearlytrue.

“Yes,butIdidn’tthinkyou’dbecaughtoutsosoon.Itwasmeanttobeaslowdrain,takemonths,maybeevenyears.”
“Ittookafewweeks,”Wellssaid,lifeless.“Anditonlytookpowerfromoneofthem.”
Simon’seyebrowsrose.“Thenyoumust’vegottenveryclosetothatoneindeed.Thespellworksonproximity,sothemoreyou
werearoundher,themoreyoutook.Well,Itook,tobefair.”HethumpedWellsontheshoulder.

“StrongerthanI’vebeeninyears,whichisagoodthingbecausereturningourmagictothattownisgoingtotakesomework.”
“Youusedme,”Wellssaid.“YouknewthatnightwhenyoucameintothepubthatI’dvolunteertogo.That’swhyyoucame.
HadtoletmethinkitwasallmyideabecauseInever,everwould’vebeenapartofthisknowingly.Butgood,dutifulLlewellyn.
Couldn’tresistthechancetomakeyouproud.”

“Don’tactsowounded,boy,”Simonsaid,voicegruff.“Ididwhatneededtobedone.Besides,howdoweknowthosesadexcusesforwitcheswereeventellingthetruth?GryffudPenhallowwasapowerfulwarlock.He’dhavehadnoneedtotakemagicfromawomanlikeAelwydJones.BarelymorethanahedgewitchfromwhatI’veread.No,allofthiswasmerelysomesortofschemebythoseJoneswomentowrestcontrolofourpower,and—”
“Stopit.”
Wellsdidn’tshoutthewords.He’dneverbeenonetoraisehisvoice,andhecertainlyhadneverraisedittohisfather,
buthe’dalsoneverinterruptedhim,neverlookedathimthewayheknewhemustbelookingatSimonnow.

Andmaybeitwasthatlookormaybeitwassomethinginhisvoice,becauseSimonfellsilenteventhoughhisscowldeepened.
“Rhyswasright,”Wellswenton.“ThespiritofAelwydJoneswasright.Gryffudhadmagic,yes,buthetookhersaswell,
andtheJonesfamilyhasjustasmucharighttothetownofGravesGlenasweeverdid.More,giventhattheymadeittheir
home.Whatyou’vedoneis—”

“Itwasnecessary,”Simonsaid,andWellsknewthenthattherewasnocomingbackfromthisforhim.
HethoughtagainaboutGwyn’sfaceinthecandlelight,closedofftohim,hereyeshard.
Everytimehe’dbeennearher,touchedher,kissedher,he’dbeenpullingmagicfromherveins.
Theshamewasenoughtonearlychokehim.
Heknewhewouldneverforgivehisfather,butmorethanthat,hedidn’tthinkhe’deverforgivehimself.
“Well,it’sfailed,”hesaidnow.“Gwynmayhavelostherpower,buthermotherwillstillhavehers.SowillVivi.AndRhyswillneverspeaktoyouagainafterthis.Bowen,either.This…thiswastoofar.”
Simonwavedthatoff.“You’veallturnedsobloodydramatic,”hesaid,andifWellsweren’tfeelingquitesoshattered,he
mighthaveretortedthatthosewereboldwordsfromamancurrentlywearingsorcerer’srobes.

“Intime,”Simonwenton,“you’llunderstand.You’llknowwhatonehastodotopreservethelegacyofthisfamily.”
“Nothingaboutthisfamilyisworthpreserving,”Wellsreplied,andheturnedaway,headingforthedoor.
“Whereareyougoing?”hisfatherdemanded,andWellsstopped,turningaroundtofacethismanhehadoncebeensodesperate
toplease.

“Idon’tknow,honestly,”hereplied.“ButI’mnotstayinghere.Notforonefuckingsecondmore.”
Simon’sexpressionwentthunderous.“Don’tyoudareusethatlanguagetome,boy.”
ButWellswasalreadywalkingaway.
IthadbeenoveraweeksinceWellshaddisappearedfromthestorageroomofGwyn’sshop.
Overaweeksinceshe’dlearnedhewasthereasonshe’dlosthermagic.
Overaweeksinceshe’dfeltlikesmiling.Orlaughing.
Orgettingoutofbed.
Butthethingwas,theworlddidn’tstopwhenyourheartbroke.She’dalwaystoldherselfthat,alwaysbouncedbackfrombreakupsquicklybefore,andshetoldherselfthat’swhatshe’ddothistime,too.
Soshedidgetoutofbedeveryday,andshemadebreakfastandfedSirPurrcivalandrantheshop,andworkedonfindingwaysofundoing
whatWellshadunknowinglydone.

Andshediditallfeelingliketherewasabagofshatteredglassinherchest.
Thatpartwasnew.Inthepast,gettingbacktonormalasquicklyaspossiblehadbeenherownpersonalbrandofmagic,clearing
thepainofheartacheawaybetterthananyspell.

Butnotthistime.
Whywasn’theback?Shecouldadmitthatshe’dfrozenhimoutthatnight,butwhenyoufoundoutthemanyouthoughtyoumight
befallingforwasthereasonyou’dlostyourmagic,youwereallowedtotakesometimetoprocessthat.

Andyes,ithadpissedheroffthathe’dbeensoquicktodefendhisfather,butshe’dknownWellswasloyal,andhell,who
wantedtobelievetheirdadwentpast“kindofadick”andstraightinto“power-hungrymonster”?

Still,ithadhurt.Inthatmoment,shehadwantedhimtobelieveher,andhehadn’t.
Orhadn’tbeenableto.
Inanycase,she’dstillexpectedhimtoshowupatherdoorlaterthatnight,andthenhejust…hadn’t.
Hadhegoneback,discoveredthetruth,andassumedshe’dneverwanttoseehimagain?
Washisfathermissing,andWellswassearchingforhim?
Or—andthiswasthekindofthingthatonlysneakedintohermindlateatnight,whisperingwhenshecouldn’tsleep—haditallbeenaplan?HadWellsknownwhathewasdoingafterall,and,missionaccomplished,fuckedoffbackhome?
Gwynknewinherbonesthatthatcouldn’tbetrue,butthelongerhewasgone,thelouderthatvoicewasgetting.
Weweresupposedtobeateam,she’dthoughttoherselfamilliontimessincehe’dbeengone.Weweresupposedtoworkthisouttogether.
Andthat,really,wasthecruxofit.Whenthingshadgottenhard,gottenmessy,he’dbailed,andnow,asshesatbehindthe
boothshe’dsetupattheFallFestival,hereyeskeptbeingdrawntotheemptyspotwherethePenhallow’sboothshouldhave
been.

Shecouldstillfeelhisarmsaroundherasthey’dstoodthereinSomethingWicked,teasingeachotheraboutsorcerer’srobes;
shethoughtofhowhappyshe’dbeen,howgoodithadfelttostandtherewithhim,jokingandkissingandmakingplans.

Howimpossibleitseemedthatonlyaheartbeatlater,everythingwouldchange.
Thememorymadehereyessting,sosheshoveditaway,turningtoacustomerapproachingherboothwithasmile.
Thiswasherplace,afterall.Thisiswhatshedid,andshewasdamngoodatit.WellsPenhallowwasnotgoingtospoilFall
Festivalforher.

Soshestraightenedherwitch’shatandsoldthehelloutofsometarotcardswhiletheeveningbreezesentthelightsstrung
overheadswaying,andthesmellofautumnfilledtheair.

Whentherewasalullinherline,shecheckedhercellphone—shetriednottohaveitoutatthingslikethis,technologyreallykilledtheWitchVibeshewasgoingfor—andwassurprisedtoseeshehadamissedcallfromSam,twofromCait,andonefromParker.
Thatwasweird.
Butmaybethey’dheardsomethingaboutWells.
Gwynwasjustabouttocallthembackwhensheheardsomeoneshoutinghername
“Gwyn!”
Glancingup,shesawMorganmakingherwayovertoher,notnearlyassevereasusual,deckedoutinanorangeblouse,black
pencilskirt,andorange-and-black-stripedtights.

Smiling,Gwynputherphonedown.“Iseeyou’reembracingthetheme!”shecalledout,andMorganstruckapose,armsraised.
“WheninGravesGlen!”shereplied,andGwyngaveherathumbs-up.
“Actually,”Morganwenton,comingcloser,“canIgetahandwithsomething?Ifoundapaintinginallthatstuffintheattic
thatwasn’tactuallymagicorterrifying,soIthoughtImightdonateittomyfriendCharlotte’sbooth.”

GwynvaguelyknewCharlotte,anon-witchintownwhoranasmallgalleryjustdownfromtheCoffeeCauldron.
“Sure,”Gwynsaid,comingoutfrombehindherbooth.Thissideofthefairwasquietrightnow,mostpeopleinlineforfood
atthistimeofnight,andshecouldusethechancetostretchherlegs.

Morganwalkedquickly,andeventhoughGwynwasprettylong-legged,shehadtojogalittletokeepup.Overhead,theskywasdark,cloudsstretchingacrossit,andGwynshiveredasthesoundsofthefairgrewfainter.
“DidyouparkinNorthCarolina?”sheaskedMorgan,andtheotherwomanlaughed,thesoundhighandalittlestrained.
“Sorry,it’sjustalittlefarther.”
Gwynshrugged.“Iseewhyyouwantedhelp,”shecalledtoMorgan.“Itwouldbearealpaintolugapictureallthewayback
fromouthere.”

Morgandidn’treply,andGwynfeltherneckprickle.
Thegrasswastallerhere,dampagainstheranklesasshestopped,lookingaroundher.Itwasn’tjustthenightchillshe
wasfeeling,sherealized.

Itwasmagic.
Alotofit.
“Morgan?”shecalledagain,andMorganturnedaroundthen,herarmsfoldedoverherchest,herlipstiltingupintoasmug
smile.

“Youknow,it’sarealshameyoudon’thaveanymoremagic,Gwyn,”shesaid,andoutofthecornerofhereye,Gwynsawa
darkfigureapproaching.

Sheturnedandtherewasanother.Athird.Afourth.
“Luckyforus,though,”Morgancontinued,walkingforward,herhandsinfrontofher,fingerscracklingwithpower,“wedon’t
needyourmagic.Wejustneedyourblood.”
Chapter33
AfteraweekofstayinginBowen’sshackfarupinthemountains,WellswasbeginningtounderstandwhyBowenwastheway
hewas.

Forone,thebloodythingwasmilesfromanykindofcivilization,andalsobloodyhardtofind.Wellshadspentdayssearching
forhim,evenwiththeTravelingStone.Turnedout,Bowenhadenoughenchantmentsaroundtheplacetosendanywitchona
wild-goosechase.ButWellshadbeendetermined.

IfanyoneknewhowtofixwhatDahaddone,itwouldbeBowen,upthereinhishut,doingwhateverstrangeandesotericmagic
shitehedid,andWellswasnowsingle-minded:Hewasgoingtoundothis.

Andifthatmeantscramblingupthewrongmountainforthreefuckingdays,sobeit.
Bythetimehe’dfoundhisbrother,he’dfeltalmostferalwithworryandanger,andhadclearlylookedit,too,becauseBowen
hadlethiminwithonlyagruntanda“Fuckhappenedtoyou?”

Bythetimehe’dtoldhisyoungerbrotherthewholestory,Bowen’sfistswereclenched,hisjawset,andhe’dgottentowork.
Thehutwassmall,barelyfurnishedexceptforacoupleofcampcots,andtherewasanouthousesituationWellshopedhecould
eventuallywipefromhismemory,butwhatBowenlackedinamenities,hemadeupforinmagic.

Iftherewasabookaboutit,Bowenhadit.Iftherewasaspellingredient,itwastuckedawayonacubbyholebookshelfthat,
asfarasWellscouldtell,containedaninfinity’sworthofcubbyholes.Everythinginthehutwaspareddownintheservice
ofmagic,andwithinafewdays,Wellshardlymindedthelackofindoorplumbing.

Hebarelyate,hehardlyslept,andBowenwasathissideforallofit,thetwoofthempagingthroughbooks,testingout
otherrings,otherstones,anythingthatmightwork.

Bowenthoughttheywereclosetosomethingnow.Oncehe’dlearnedthatSimon’sspellwasacombinationoftwospells,hereasoned
thatthesamewouldprobablybeneededtoreverseit.

“It’stricky,”hesaidnowtoWellsastheystoodovertheonesolidpieceoffurnitureinthehut,amassivetablecovered
inspells,books,piecesofpaper.“Butthat’smagic,eh?”

“Thisalsoseemstocallfor…myblood?”WellssaidashereadoverwhatBowenhadsketchedout,andhisbrotherclapped
hisshoulder,ahintofteethappearinginallthatbeard.

“Loveispain,”hesaid,andWellsgruntedinreply.
Christ,he’dclearlybeenaroundBowentoolong.
Still,heheldouthishandandletBowenslideasilverbladeinaquickstrokeoverthemeatofhispalm,wincingastheblooddrippedintoasmallmother-of-pearldish.
“Wheredoyougetallthisstuff?”heaskedhisbrother,tryingtodistracthimselfashebled.
“Hereandthere,”BowenrepliedinhistypicalBowenway.
“Thankyou,”Wellssaid.“Asalways,youareafontofinformation,overflowing.”
OnecornerofBowen’smouthlifted.“Shops,”heclarified.“Otherwitches.Somehumansdealinmagicalartifacts,andIknow
oneofthem.”

“Thatsoundsdanger—ow!”
WellsglaredathisbrotherasBowenslappedsomekindofsalveonhiscut.Itstunglikeabastard,butwhateveritwashealed
thecutalmostimmediately,andWellsstudiedhishand,reluctantlyimpressed.

“Howsoondoyouthinkitcanbeready?”heasked,andhisbrothershruggedasheturnedaway.
“Nevercansaywiththiskindofstuff,”Bowenreplied,headingforhiscabinetandsettingthedishofbloodinside.“When
didyoutellheryouwerecomingback?”

“Ididn’t.”
Bowenpaused.“What?”
“WhenIleft,”Wellssaid,distractedashereadoverthespell,“Ijustleft.AndonceI’dlearnedthetruthfromSimon,
IknewIhadtofixthis,soIcamestraighttoyou.”

“Soyou…buggeredoff.Aftershefoundoutourfatherwasthereasonshe’dlosthermagic.”
“Ifthere’sapointhere,Bowen,nowwouldbethetimetoapproachit.”
“Everoccurtoyoushemightthinkyouwereinonit,then?ThatyouflewbackhometoDa,jobwelldone?”
NowitwasWells’sturntopause.
“I…Icouldn’tgobackwithoutasolution,”hesaidbecausethathadbeenthedominatingthoughtinhismind.Hehad
causedthis,andhewouldn’treturnuntilhecouldrestorehermagic.

“Still,maybeaphonecall?”Bowensuggested.“Textmessage?‘Hi,reallysorrymyfamily’ssofuckedup,I’llbebackassoon
asI’veunfuckedthings’?”

“Shit,”Wellsmutterednow,runningahandoverhisbeard.Itwasn’tquiteasshaggyasBowen’syet,butitwasdefinitely
gettingthere.“Ishouldhavedonethat.”

“Yeah,youshould’ve,”Bowenreplied,thenshookhishead.“HowisitthatIstayuphereallthebloodytime,nowomanin
sight,andyetI’msmarteraboutthisshitethanyouandRhys?Fuckingriddlemethat,mate.”

“Becausebeinginlovemakesyouinsaneandalsoquitestupid,Ithink,”Wellssaid,hisstomachstillsinking.
DidGwynthinkhe’dleftherforgood?Or,worse,thatthiswasallpartofhisfather’splan?
“Look,weneedtogetthisspellworkingassoonaspossible,”hesaid,turningtoBowen.“I’vegottogetbacktoher,I’ve
gotto—”

Oneminute,hewaslookingathisbrother.
Thenext,Sam,Cait,andParkerwerestandingtherebetweenhimandBowen,theireyeswide,theirmouthsopen.
“Ohmigodthatwassoscary,”Samsaid,andfrombehindthem,Bowenscowled.

“Whointhehellareyouandhowdidyougetonmymountain?”
“Werewolf,”Caitwhispered,staringathim,andSam’seyesswungaroundbeforesettlingonWells.
“Oh,thanktheGoddess!”sheyelled,andthenallthreeofthemwererushinghim,babblingatonce,andhewassosurprised
toseethemthathecouldn’tevenmakesenseofanythingtheyweresaying,untilheheard,“ShetookGwyn!”

“Enough!”hebarked,hisvoiceasharpcrack,andallthreeofthemwentsilent,theirfacespale.
“What,”Wellsasked,tryingveryhardtostaycalmevenashisheartthreatenedtobeatoutofhischest,“isgoingon?”
“MorgantookGwyn!”Parkerblurtedout,andWellssteppedback,confused.
“Morgan?”heasked.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Hecouldtelltheywereallabouttostarttalkingatonceagain,sohepointedatParker,delegatingthem.“You.Tellme
everything.”

Parker’seyesdartednervouslyaround,buttheynodded,lickingtheirlips.“Soafteryouleft,wekeptlookingforwaysto
reverseyourdad’sspell.AndwhenwewerelookingthroughGwyn’sstuff,wefoundMorgan’sfile.”

“Thatfiledidn’ttellusanything,”Wellssaid,andParkernodded.
“Iknow.ButIusedthisonit.”
Theypulledoutthatcointhey’dhadthedayWellshadtakenthefile.Herememberedit,thespellthatwassupposedtoabsorb
whatwaswrittenandwriteitoutsomewhereelse.Wellshadn’tusedit,though,he’djusttakenthefile,andnowParkeradded,
“Iwasjustmessingaround,waitingforCaittofinishwiththebookshewaslookingat,soIranitoverthefile,justseeing
ifitworked.ButwhenIputwhatwasinthefileonanotherpieceofpaper—”

“Thefilewasenchanted,”Samsaid,thrustingasheetofpaperathim.
Wellstookit,hiseyesscanning,andthere,whereonMorgan’soriginalfileithadgiventhatvaguethingabout“inappropriate
magic,”nowamuchdifferent—muchdarker—storywasspelledout.

“Bloodyfuckinghell,”Wellswhispered.
“Theyalmostkilledastudent,”Caitsaid.“Like,drainedherofblood,vampire-style,allbecauseIguessherancestorhad
beensomepowerfulwitch.Theonlyreasonthecollegedidn’tgofurtherwasbecausethegirlhadvolunteeredforit.”

“Apparentlyshethoughtshewasgonnagetallpoweredup,too,buttheywerejustusingher,”Samadded,andWellswaspretty
surehisownbloodhadjustbeenreplacedwithicewater.

“AndyouthinkMorgan’stakenGwyn?”
“HerboothwasemptyattheFallFestival,andsomeonesaidtheysawherleavewithadark-hairedwomanandnotcomeback.AndwhenwewenttoMorgan’shouse,there’samajormagical-force-field-typethingaroundit.Wecouldn’tgetin,”Parkersaid.
“Andwedidn’tknowwhattodobecauseViviandElainearestillgone,andwe’renotpowerfulenoughtotakeonabunchof
darkwitches,butthenwerememberedtherewasaTravelingStoneinthebackroomatSomethingWicked,”Samwenton.

“And,like,we’remadatyouandstuff,butwedidn’tknowwhoelsetogoto,sowejustthoughtofyou,andthenpoof!”Caitsummarized.

“Wait,youpoofedontomymountain?Inonego?”Bowenwasstaringatthethreewithamixtureofsuspicionandinterest,butWellswasalready
moving,gesturingtothespellonBowen’stable.

“Finishthis.Quickasyoucan.ThenmeetmeinGravesGlen.”
Bowennodded.“Gohelpyourgirl.”
“Canthethreeofyougetbackallright?”heaskedSam,andshepulledouttheTravelingStone.
“Ithinkso.Shouldbeeasiergoinghomethancominghere.”
“Good.”
WellspulledouthisownTravelingStone,tryingnottothinkofGwyn,magic-less,helpless,atthemercyofMorganandher
coven.

Bringingherfacetomind,hesqueezedthestonetightandthoughtoneword.
Home.Chapter34
Gwynwasnoexpertondarkmagic,butshewasprettysurenothinggoodevercameofbeingtieddownonablackstonetable
withabunchofpeopleinscaryrobesstandingaroundyou.

Herheadstillwoozyfromwhateverspellitwasthey’dusedonher,Gwyntestedherbonds,butgiventhattheyweresilver
chains,shewasn’tsurprisedtoseetherewasn’tmuchgivethere,andshefloppedbackontothetablewithasigh,fighting
tokeepthepanicdown.

Ifevertherewasatimetopanic,surelythisisit,shereasoned,butifshepanicked,thenshecouldn’tthink,andifshecouldn’tthink,shecouldn’tgetoutofthis,and
shereallyneededtogetoutofthis.

“SoIguessallthatstuffaboutgettingkickedoutforglamourswasrealbullshit,huh?”shecalledout,andfromsomewhere
behindherhead,sheheardMorganchuckle.

“Wegotlunchroomdutyfortheglamours,”shesaid.“Itwasthebloodmagicthatgotuskickedout.”
“Yeah,they’rereallystrictaboutthatkindofthing,”Gwynsaid,rattlingherchains.“Can’timaginewhy.Althoughtobehonest,Ineversawtheappeal.Imean,mightyougetalittlemorepower?Yes.Isitalsoickyandsuperevil?Anotheryes!”

“Wewouldn’texpectyoutounderstand.”
ThatwasHarrison,downnearherfoot.Theywereintheattic,Gwynrealizednow,seeingtheloomingshapeoftheironmaiden
behindhim.

Great.
“Therearelimitstowhatmagiccando,”hewenton,“butifyou’rewillingtogofurther,tobleed,thoselimitsdisappear.
Anythingbecomespossible.Buildingentirecitiesoutofnothing,creatinguniverses.”

“Right,butyou’renotgoingtobetheonetobleed,areyou?”Gwynasked.
“No,”Rosasaid,steppingforward,herdarkeyessurprisinglycompassionateasshelookeddownatGwyn.“Butthen,noneof
ushaveapowerfulwitchlikeAelwydJonesinourbloodline.”

“Iwassincereaboutwantingtohelpyougetyourmagicback,Gwyn,”Morgansaid.“Itwould’vebeenbetterifyou’dhadit.”
“Whichiswhyyouinvitedmetocomehangoutinthisfuckingattic,”Gwynsaid,rememberingtheirconversationoutsidethe
townhall.

“Idid.ButthenHarrisonrealizedwe’dneedtodotheritualbeforeSamhain,andwewererunningoutoftime.Ithadtobe
now,duringthenewmoon.”

Morgangesturedtothedarkskybeyondtheatticwindow.“Andwhileyourmagicmaybegone,it’sstillAelwyd’sbloodinyourveins.Whenwespillit,herpowerbecomesours.GravesGlenbecomesours,andwithanentiretowntodrawfrom?”
Shespreadherhandswide.“We’reunstoppable.”
“Ireallydon’tthinkitworkslikethat,”Gwynsaid,andMorganfrownednow,herdarkeyessharp.
“Ithinkwemightknowbetterthanyouonthis,Gwyn.We’veallspentthepasttenyearssteepinginmagicwhileyou’vebeen
here,hockingtoystotourists.I’vecollectedsomeofthemostpowerfultalismansintheworld,allforthis.”

Gwynliftedherheadjustenoughtolookaround,takinginthepaintings,thethumbscrews,allthatotherterrifyingshit
sheandWellshadseen.Sothat’swhatthatwasallabout.Thesethingswereinfusedwithdarkmagic,strengtheningMorgan’s
ownevilpowers.

“Ifyouwant,wecanenchantyoufirst,”Rosaoffered.“Soitwon’thurt.”
Gwynalmostlaughedatthat.Ormaybesobbed.“Right.LikeI’matthedentistandnot…whateverthehellthisis.”
Morganlaidahandonherforehead,herskinclammyandcold.“Itwillbeoverquickly,Ipromise,”shesaid.“Wedon’ttake
anypleasureincausingpain.Butwelearnedlasttimethattoolittlebloodmightaswellbenone.Sowe’regoingtoneed
allofyours.”

ThefearGwynhadbeentryingsohardtokeepdownsquirmedbackupnow,makinghertremblejustalittle.Evenwithhermagic,
thisgroupmightbetoomuchforher,butwithoutit?

Closinghereyes,GwyntookdeepbreathsasMorganandtheothersbeganmovingcloser.WhateverenchantmentRosahadpromisedherwasclearlystartingtoworkbecauseshecouldfeelakindofheavinessslippingintoherlimbs,herbraingoingcloudy.
ShethoughtaboutViviandElaine,andSirPurrcivalandherBabyWitches.
SheeventhoughtaboutWells,aboutseeinghimtherebehindthecounteratPenhallow’s,andinherbed,andbyherside,and
sheclenchedherfists,grittingherteeth.

Morganwaschantingsomethingnow,theothersjoiningin,andGwyncouldfeelthepullofmagicintheroomgettingstronger.
Darker.
Shewasgoingtodieallsosomejacked-upwitchescouldplayatbeinggodswhilewearingdorkyrobes.
ThehellIam.
Thethoughtwassostrongitmadehereyessnapopen,thelassitudeRosa’sspellhadcreatedsuddenlydrainingoutofher.
GwynnevereJoneswasnotgoingoutlikethis.
Thechantingwasstillhappening,andGwynconcentratedwitheverythingshehad,wigglingherfingers.
Therewasanansweringspark.
Tiny,almostinsignificant,butthere,andGwynfoughtbackagrinasafiercejoyspilledthroughher.

Mymagicisnotsomethinganyonecantakefromme,shethought,hermindclear.Itismine.Andit’sstillthere.
Andsoitwas.Shecouldfeelitnow,racingthroughher,summonedupoutofherveryblood,andthistime,whenshemovedherfingers,therewasn’tjustaspark.
Therewasafire.
WhenWellssuddenlyappearedinthefieldjustoutsideMorgan’shouse,hisstomachgaveasickeninglurch.
Itwasn’ttheTravelingStonethistime.
Whateversenseofmagicalwrongnesshe’dfeltbeforehadgottenstrongernow,arotthatseemedtopulse,makinghimgrit
histeethashestaggeredforward.

Itwasdark,andwhenhelookedathiswatch,hesawitwasnearlythreea.m.here.

Thewitchinghour.
Despitethepaininhishead,Wellsmadehimselfmove,andjustoutofthecornerofhiseye,hecaughtsightofSam,Cait,
andParker,stumblingontotheground.“Stayback!”hecalled.

Theyhadn’tliedaboutthemagicalbarrieraroundthehouse.Itwasstrong,andWellstriedtofocus,mentallytestingfor
weakspots,gatheringupamagicalblastthatmightbestrongenoughtoblowaholeinitevenashisbrainkeptchanting,
Hurry,hurry,hurry,she’sinthere,hurry.
He’djustaboutsummonedupenoughpowerforadecentblastatthebarrierwhentherewasaloudcrash,thesoundofbroken
glass,andhelookedupinhorrorasagoutofflameflaredoutawindowatthetopofthehouse.

Wellshadnomemoryofhowhegotthroughthebarrierorintothehouse.Onemomenthewasstaringatthatflame,thenexthewasinsidethehouse,hisfeetpoundinguptheatticstairs,flingingthedooropen.
ThefirstthinghesawwasGwyn,gorgeousgloriousGwyn,blessedlyaliveandstandingontopofsomekindofblackstonetable,
herhandsglowingassheheldthemoutinfrontofher,andhealmostfelltohiskneeswithrelief
ThenherealizedshewasfacingoffagainstthatbloodyHarrisonarsehole,currentlyswingingaMorningstarinherdirection.
TheblastWellshadbeenpreparingtoshattertheforcefieldwasnothingcomparedtotheonehesentflyingatthatman,
andasHarrisonflewbackward,hittingthewall,Gwynturned,seeinghim.

Andshesmiled.
Wellsfeltthatsmileineverypartofhim.Asunrisecouldnotbebrighterthanthatsmile.
Buthedidn’thavetimetoadmireitbecauseRosawascomingtowardhim,someterrifyinglymedievalswordclutchedinher
hands,andhedodged,tryingtogatherupenoughmagictopushherback.

Hewasexhausted,histimeawayhavingtakenitoutofhimmorethanhe’drealized,hisreliefatseeingGwynaliveandwhole
distractinghim,andhewassofocusedonRosathathedidn’tseeMorganbehindhimuntilheheardGwyncryout,“Wells!”

Itallseemedtohappeninslowmotion.Morganwasreachingforhim,herteethbared,hereyeswild,asilverdaggerinone
hand.

Ithinkshe’sactuallygoingtostabme,hethought,almostlikeitwashappeningtosomeoneelse,andthentherewasablastoflight,andMorganrearedback,clutchingherarmastheknifeclatteredtotheground.
Gwynwasathisside,herhandsstilloutstretched,andWellscouldseetheedgeofMorgan’ssleevewassinged,theskinof
herhandredandcracked,andsheglaredatGwyn,stumblingback.

Asshedid,shebumpedintooneofthosetrunksliningtheatticfloor,fallinghardagainstit,therustedlockgivingway
anddroppingtothefloorwithaheavythud.

Foramomenteverythingwasstill,theonlysoundMorgan’spainedbreathing,andthenthelidofthetrunksuddenlyflewopen
withahowl.

WellsheardMorganscream,anditwasliketherewassuddenlyahurricaneintheattic,afiercewindthathadhimshutting
hiseyes,pullingGwyntightagainsthimasthehowlingwentonandon,hisbonespracticallyrattlingwiththeforceofit.

Andthenthetrunksnappedclosed,remindingWellsofnothingsomuchasalargejaw.
Theatticwasquiet.Still.
AndMorganandtheothersweregone.Chapter35
“Honestly,thiswholethingisaveryvaluablelessoninwhyyoudon’tkeepscarymagicalshitjustlyingaroundyourhouse,”
GwynsaidasshewalkedawayfromMorgan’shouse,Wellsnexttoher,Sam,Cait,andParkerclusteredaroundher.“Ireally
hopeyouthreetakethattoheart.”

“Soitjust…atethem?”Parkeraskedwithashudder,andWellssighed,puttinghishandsinhispockets.
“Notexactly.IbelievewhatMorganhadwaswhat’sknownasaSoulCatcher.Suckspeopleintootherdimensions,holdsthem
captivethere.Nastybitofwork.”

“Notasnastyasbeingeaten,”Samsaid,andGwynhadtoagreewithherthere.
“Whydidn’tittakethetwoofyou?”Parkerasked,andWellsshrugged.
“SoulCatcherstendtofeedonnegativeenergy,fromwhatIremember,andtherewasanawfullotofitinthatcoven’ssouls.
Onceithadallofthem,Isupposeitwas…full.”

Gwyncouldn’trepressashudderatthat,evenafterallMorganandhercovenhadtriedtodo.
“Well,”shesaid,tryingtojoke,“goodtoknowthatmysoulisstillrelativelyuntainteddespitethatyearIwenttoBurning
Man.Oh,andtheyearIcutmyownbangs.Actually,alloftheyears2011to2014.”

“Butbignewsis,”Caitsaid,practicallyskippingacrossthedampgrass,“isthatyourmagicisback!”TurningtoWells,
sheasked,“Didyourbrothergetthespelltoyouintime?”

Gwynpaused,lookingoverathim.
Wellslooked…well,he’dbehandsomenomatterwhat,therewasnoescapingthatbonestructure,buthewasclearlyexhausted,
darkcirclesunderhiseyes,hisbeardshaggy,andnowhemethereyeswithaweaksmile.

“No,”hetoldCait.“Shedidthatallonherown.”
“God,Glinda,you’resobadass,”Caitsaid,andSamandParkernodded,SamslippingherarmthroughGwyn’s.
“Bestwitchmomever,”shesaid,andGwynlaughed,tiredbuthappy,leaninghercheekagainstSam’sbrighthair.
“Istilloughttogroundyouforrunningintodangerlikethat.Morganandherfriendswerenotfuckingaround.Promiseme
youwon’tdosomethinglikethatagain.”

“Wepromise,”theyallchorused,butthenSamgaveWellsaslyglance.
“WealsowenttoWales.Withmagic.”

“AndmetWells’sscarybrother.”
“Andhedidn’tsayit,butIthinkhewasreallyimpressedthatwemagickedourselvesthere.”
Thethreeofthemkepttalkingovereachother,fillingGwyninontheiradventures,andshelistenedandsmiledintheright
places,buthereyeskeptdriftingovertoWells,andhistoher,andshewantedtosmackhimandkisshimandaskjustwhere
thehellhe’dbeen,andshesworeshe’ddoexactlythatthesecondshegothimalone.

Butwhen,thankstotheTravelingStone,theyappearedatthefootofGwyn’sporchsteps,sherealizedthatwasgoingtohave
towait.

“Gwyn!”
Vivicameflyingoutthefrontdoor,Elaineonherheels,andGwynthoughtherheartmightburstoutofherchestassheran
upthestepstoflingherselfintotheirarms.

“Whatareyoutwodoinghere?”
“Weknewsomethingwaswrong,”Vivisaid.
“Bothofus.Practicallyatthesametime,”Elaineconfirmed,reachingouttosmoothGwyn’shair,andGwynleanedintothe
touch,tearsstinginghereyes.

Whenshe’dthoughtaboutthemthereonthatawfultable,they’dfelther.They’dknownsheneededthem,andthey’dcomeback
forher.

“It’sbeenalongnight,”Gwynsaid,“andit’sanevenlongerstory,butIcantellsomeofit,andWells—”
Butwhenshelookedbehindher,Wellswasgone.
Itwastherightthingtodo,lettingGwynhavetimealonewithherfamily,Wellsthoughtashesatinhisdarklivingroom,alone.
She’dmissedthemandhadsomuchtotellthem,andhedidn’twanttositthere,anawkwardpresence,whilesheexplained
whatitwashisfatherhaddone.

Soyes.Hewasbeinggallant.
Noble.
“You’rebeingafuckingidiot.”
Sighing,Wellsturnedtowardthefrontdoor.Theporchlightswereon,andhecouldseeafigurestandingthere,afigure
whonowrattledthedoorknobandcalledout,“Iknowyou’reinthere,feelingsorryforyourself,youponce.Nowletmein.”

WellsknewfromexperiencethatRhyswouldnotleaveuntilhe’dhadhissay,sohegotuptounlockthedoor.
Hisyoungestbrotherpushedhiswayin,lookingannoyinglywellrestedandhappy,andWellsgloweredathim.“I’mnotfeeling
sorryformyself.I’mgivingGwynsomespace.”

“Didshetellyou,‘Iwantspace’?Orareyoudoingthatthingyoudowhereyoujustassumeyouknowbetterthaneveryoneallthetimeforever?”

“Ididnotmissyouatall,letmejustsayfortherecord.Infact,IthinkyouandVivienneshouldtakeasecond,muchlonger
honeymoon.Possiblytotheactualmoon.”

Rhysgrinnedthen,slappinghimonthearm.“Andmissthiskindofexcitementagain?Never.”
Therewasaclatteringfromthediningroom,andbothheandRhysturnedtoseeBowenstandingthere,swayingalittleonhisfeet,butotherwisehisusualgrumpyself.
“Rhys,”Bowensaid,andRhyspulledaface,tiltingbackonhisheels.
“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?Wait,isthissomekindofintervention?ArewedoinganinterventiononWellsforbeing
asadbastard,andnoonetoldme?”

“Shutup,Rhys,”WellsandBowensaidinunison,andthenglancedateachotherbeforelookingbacktotheiryoungestbrother.
“Idon’tthinkthethreeofushavebeeninoneroominfiveyears,”Wellssaid,notsurehewassorrytheywerebreaking
thattrend.

“Callsforadrink,”Bowenmuttered.
Intheend,itcalledforseveral.Notonlydidtheyhavetotalkabouttheirfather,butWellshadtocatchRhysuponexactly
whathadhappenedwhilehe’dbeengone,everythingfromMorgan’sappearancetoa(veryedited)explanationofwherethings
nowstoodwithGwyn,andbythetimehewasfinished,thelastoftheirfather’sgoodscotchwasnearlygone.

“IknewDawasaprick,”Rhyssaidwithasigh,“butIdidn’tthinkhe’ddosomethinglikethis.”
“Ithinklosingthetownaffectedhimmorethanweknew,”Wellssaid,turninghisglassaroundinhishands,andRhysreached
over,pattinghisknee.

“I’msorry,mate.MeandBowen,weneverreallygotalongwithhim.Butyoutwowereclose.Hadtohurt.”
“Hmm,”wasWells’sonlyreply,buthethumpedRhys’sleginreturn,andhisbrothersmiledathim.
“Sowhatnow?”Rhysasked.“Cansonsdisowntheirfather?”
“Maybenotinthelaw,butcertainlyinthespirit,”Wellssaid,grim.
He’dlovedhisfather.Maybepartofhimalwayswould.Ifwecouldstoplovingpeople,lifewouldbesomuchsimpler,but
Wellsknewitdidn’tworkthatway.

ButtherewasnoplaceforamanlikeSimoninWells’slife,andhehadmadepeacewiththatduringthatlongweekonBowen’s
mountain.Hehadhisbrothers,absolutewankersthattheybothwere,andthatwasenough.

Well,almostenough.
Hecoulddealwiththatlater,though.Fornow,hisfatherwastheissue.
“Da,Simon,ismorepowerfulthaneverrightnow,”Wellsremindedthem.“Andevenifhecan’ttakethistownbackover,I’msurehehas
someotherplaninmind.Thepub,maybe.TheancientPenhallowmagicstillthere.”

“I’mgoingtoneed,attheveryleast,anapandanotherstiffdrinkbeforeIdeclarewaronDa,”Rhyssaid,“butI’mwilling
ifyouare.”

Wellsnodded,buttohissurprise,Bowendrainedhisdrink,standingup.“Youtwohaveshitetofixhere,”hesaid,thenpointed
atWells.“’Speciallyyou.”

“St.Bugi’sballs,butIlovethisnewworldwhereWellsistheoneeveryonewantstoget-it-to-fucking-getheralready,and
I—”

“Shutup,Rhys,”BowenandWellssaidagain,andthenBowenputhisglassonthecoffeetablewithathunk.
“I’lldealwithDa,”Bowensaid,andWellshadnoideawhatexactlyhemeantbythat,buthavingseenBowen’shut,hehad
nodoubthisbrotherwaswelluptothetaskofanykindofmagicalbattle.

“Good,”hesaid,andRhysmadeadisbelievingsound.
“What,nolecture?NoreminderofwhatBowenshouldandshouldnotdo?Norandominsulttomejustforkicks?Youhavechanged.”

Wellsflippedhisyoungestbrotheroff,buthewassmiling,aswasRhys.
EvenBowenmighthavebeensmilingbeneaththatmetricfucktonofhaironhisface.
“Sothat’sDahandled,”Rhyscontinued.“AndIforoncehavenocock-upstofixexceptthatwewereinsucharushtoget
backherethatIthinkImighthavemagicallysentourluggagetoGeorgiathecountryasopposedtoGeorgiathestate,butViviennewillunderstand.Andasforyou…”

HegaveWells’sleganotherthump,andWellssighed.
Yes,asforhim.
Readinghisthoughts,Bowennoddedtowardthedoorand,Wellsassumed,Gwyn’scabin.“Soshejustgothermagicbackonher
own,then.Nospellneeded.”

WhenWellsnodded,Bowengrunted.
“Neverheardofsuchathing.”
“You’venevermetGwynJones,”Wellssaidwithasmallsmile,andRhyslaughed,leaningback.
“Ah,thesoundofamancompletelyclobberedbylove.Iknowthefeelingwell.”
Wellsdidn’tbothertoargue.Helovedher,wascompletelymadforher,andsurelythatwasobvioustoeveryonebynow.
Everyone,hesuddenlyrealized,buttheonepersonwhomatteredmost.Chapter36
Gwynfiguredbeingnearlyrituallysacrificedgaveagirlanexcusetosleepin,soitwasnearlynoonbythetimeshemade
herwaytoSomethingWickedthenextday.Elainehadtoldhernottobothergoinginatall,butstayinghomewould’vejust
madeherfeelrestless,andthatwasnogood.

Whatsheneededwasareturntonormalcy,andnothingfeltmorenormaltoherthanherstore.
Downtownwasfairlyquietgiventhatitwasaweekdayafternoon,andsheslidaglanceatPenhallow’sassheunlockedher
door.

TheOpensignhunginthewindow.

Sohewasstillhere,then.
AfterWellshaddisappearedlastnight,Rhyshadgoneafterhim,andwhenhe’dcomebacktothecabin,he’dconfirmedWells
wasstillthere,inhishousejustupthemountain.

Thatwassomething,atleast.
He’dcomebackforher,too.AndaccordingtoCait,he’dbeenworkingonsomekindofreversalspellwithhisbrother,soshe’dbeenright.Hehadn’twantedtoreturntoGravesGlenuntilhecouldfixthings
Whichwasjust…soannoyinglyEsquire.
Andnowhewouldundoubtedlystayaway,assumingshedidn’twanttoseehim,whichwasalsoannoyinglyEsquire.He’dwait
forhertomakethefirstmove,agentlemantothelast.

Well.
Gwynwasgoodatfirstmoves.
TurningawayfromSomethingWicked,shemarchedacrossthestreettoPenhallow’s,alreadyplanningwhatshe’dsaytohim.
Howshe’dmissedhim,buthowithadhurtwhenhe’dleft,howthisself-flagellationthingwasnotgoingtoworkforher,
andhowhedidn’tgettodecideifsheshouldbeangryathimornot.

Thewalkwasashortone,butGwynhadhadplentyoftimetoworkupaheadofsteam,andsheflungopenthedoortoPenhallow’s,
thebellringingloudly.

“Okay,sowearenotdoingthis—”shestarted,andtheneverybitofthetrulyspectacularrantshe’dcomposedinherhead
dissolvedlikeamist.

Wellswasstandinginfrontofthecounterinlongblackrobes.Formalwitch’srobes,thekindshe’dteasedhimaboutwearing.
Thosewereformalandtraditional,butwhatwasnotwasthehatheheldinhishand,adarkbluepointythingwithsilverstarsprintedonit,thesortofthingshesometimes
soldinSomethingWicked.

Hiseyeswerebloodshot,andtheywidenedtoseeherstandingthere,thetwoofthemsilentastheytookeachotherin.
“You’rewearingrobes,”Gwynfinallysaid,frowning,andWellsglanceddownathimself,thepointyhatstillinonehand.
“Yes.I…IrealizedImissedtheFallFestival,andwe’dtalked—well,we’djoked,Isupposed—aboutmewearingrobes,andRhyssaidthatabiggesturemightberequired,soIwasgoingtocomeovertoyour
storelikethis.Thehatwas…well,thehatwasmeanttobefunny?Andslightlyhumiliating,whichIassumedyou’denjoy
asmockingmedoesseemtobeoneofyourgreatjoysinlife—notthatImindit—andoh!I,Ialsoboughtthis.”

Reachingforthecounterbehindhim,Wellspulledoutaveryfamiliar-lookingvelvetbag,andGwynfelthercheeksaching
withtheneedtosmile.

“SoIwasgoingtocomeovertoyourstoreintherobesandthemockablehatwiththeediblebathglitter,andafteragroveling
apologyformyfatherbeingamonster,andfornotbelievingthatcouldbethecaseatfirst,andthenalsoforfuckingthefuckoffwithoutlettingyouknowIwascomingback—theapologyportionwasgoingtotakeupafairamount
oftime,Icanassureyou—thenIwasgoingtoofferyouthePixieLicksanddeliverawittyanddevastatingriposteabouthow,whileyoumightstillbe
furiouswithme,ifyoueverneededanexcusetokissmeagain,Icouldprovidesuchathing.”

Hewasbreathingalittlehardnow,thetipsofhisearsscarlet,andGwyntriedtoschoolherfaceintoaverysolemnexpression
asWellscontinued:

“ExceptthatwhenIgottherobeson,IrealizedIlookedlikeabitofatit,andthenitbegantooccurtomethataplanformulatedwhenonehasnotsleptintwenty-fourhoursandisrunning
solelyonteaandthebone-rattlingreliefoffindingyoualiveandallrightmightnotbethewisestofschemes.Andthen
IbegantothinkI’dneverlistenedtoRhysinmylife,sowhywasItakinghisleadonthis,oneofthemostimportantmoments
ofmylifeasItrytowinbackthewomanIlove,anditwasaboutthreesecondsafterthatepiphanythatyouwalkedin,”
hefinallyfinished,punctuatingthatamazingspeechbythrowinghispointyhatontooneofthewing-backchairs.

Gwynblinked,andWellsstaredather,hischestheavingupanddown,hisfistproppedononehip,hishairawreck,and,
shenoticed,hewaswearingoneblackshoeandonenavyone,andifshehadn’talreadyfalleninlovewithhimsometimebetween
thenighthe’dfoundSirPurrcivalandthemomentshe’dwalkedintothisshoponthedayoftheGatheringandseenhimfrantically
makingcupsoftea,thosemismatchedshoeswould’vedoneit.

“Youareadisaster,”shetoldhim.“Like,notjustinthismoment,butmaybeonafundamentallevel.”
Wellsnodded.“Iam.Ihideitwellonthewhole,Ithink,butyes,Gwynnevere,absolutewreckofaman.”
Herheartbeatinghard,Gwynmovedalittlecloser.“AndhereIthoughtyouweretheresponsibleone.”
“Asham.Acover-upofimmenseproportions.”
Gwynlaughedevenasshewatchedhiseyeswarmanddarkentheclosershecame.“IsitweirdthatI’mkindofintothisversion
ofyou?Ican’tevencallyouEsquirewhenyou’relikethis.”

“Youcancallmeanythingyoulike,”hetoldher,andtherewassuchnakedlonginginhisfacethatherthroatwenttight.
“Wells,Esquire,ThatDickheadWhoWorksAcrosstheStreet.Anything,”Wellswenton,andGwynswallowedhard,lettingone
handreachoutandjustbarelybrushagainsthis,theirfingersbrieflytanglingtogether.

“AndifIwantedtocallyoumine?”sheasked,hervoicelow,andWells’sgriptightenedonherhand.
“I’llbethatuntilIdie.”
Liftingherhead,Gwynlookedintohiseyes.“SoIguessyoumeantit,then.Thatbitaboutmebeingthewomanyouloved.”
Wellswinced.“Ididmentionthatinthemiddleofmycompletelyunhingedrant,didn’tI?Fuckedupboththeapologyandthedeclarationoflove,welldone,me.”

ButGwynonlyshookherhead.“No,thiswasbetter,”shesaid,andthengrinned.“Imean,Iwantthatgrovelingapologylater
becausewhatgirldoesn’tloveagoodgrovel?IthinkI’llevenfilmitonmyphone.”

Wellsmadeasoundthatmighthavebeenalaugh,andGwyntookadeepbreath,bringingtheirjoinedhandsbetweenthem.“It’s
beenawhilesinceI’veheardsomeonesaythey’reinlovewithme.EvenlongersinceI’vesaiditback.”

Wellswasverystillnow,watchingher,andsomehowthatmadesayingsomethingthathadoncebeensohardforheraseasy
asbreathing.“ButIloveyou,Wells.”

Hisfingersflexedinhers,histhroatworking,andGwynreachedupwithherfreehandtotuggentlyathisbeard.“AndthisiswhatIwant,”shetoldhim.“Notbiggestures.Justyou.Allofyou.Thedisasterbitsandthepartsthatsaywordslike‘henceforth.’”
“Ihaveneversaidthat,”heprotested,andoffherlookamended,“toyou.”
Stillsmiling,Gwynduckedherhead,kissinghisknuckles.“Iwantthemanwhofindsmissingpetsandmakesmesoupandmay
soundlikehe’sauditioningforMasterpieceTheatrebutwillalsomakelovetomeinthebackofapickuptruck.”

Hisfreehandcameuptostrokeherhairbackfromherface.“Iwantallofyou,too,”hetoldher.“Thepowerfulwitchand
thewomanwholovesnothingbetterthantotakethepissoutofmewhenIdeserveit.Thewomanwhoinspiresloyaltyintalking
catsandBabyWitchesandeveryoneshemeetsbecauseherheartistheonlythingmoreimpressivethanhermagic.Iwantyou,
GwynJones.”

“Thenthat’sallthatmatters,”shesaid,sunlightinherveins,inherheart,flowingjustaspowerfullyashermagicever
had.

Hiskisswasmagic,too,slowandthorough,apromiseandadeclarationandanapology,andGwynacceptedallofit,herarms
comingaroundhim,herbodymeltingintohiswiththerightnessofitall.

Asuddenthumpingnoisehadthembreakingthekiss,lookingtowardthefrontwindowoftheshop,andtherewereSam,Cait,
andParker,theirfacespracticallypressedagainsttheglassasParkerthumpedtheirfistnexttothepaintedletters,Sam
whooped,andCaitswooned.

“Heathens,”Wellsgrumbled,buthewassmilingandGwynlaughedevenassheshooedthemawaywithawave.
“Loveme,lovemyBabyWitches,”shesaid,andhelookedbackather,smiling.
“ThefirstpartistheeasiestthingI’veeverdone.Thesecondmaytakesomepractice.”
“Youbetterstartnow,then,”Gwynreplied.“IthinkthosethreewillbeavitalpartoftheJonesandEsquireEmpire.”
Stillsmiling,Wellsbrushedhislipsagainsthersagain.“PenhallowandJones.”
Gwynkissedhimback.“JonesandPenhallow,finaloffer.”
“We’lltalkaboutitathome,”Wellsreplied,andashekissedheragain,Gwynrealizedshedidn’tknowifhemeanthercabin
orhishauntedmansion,butitdidn’treallymatter.

Whereverthetwoofthemweretogether,thatwashome.Acknowledgments
I’vebeendoingthiswritingthingforlongenoughnowthatyou’dthinkI’dremembertheancientwriterproverbthatSecond
BooksAreAlwaysaBeast.Andyet!ButgivenhowstubbornbothWellsandGwynare,IguessIshouldn’thavebeensurprised
they’dgivemesuchafightontheirwaytoaHEA
Luckilyforme,Ihadpowerfulforcesonmysideintheformofmybrillianteditor,TessaWoodward,andmyfabulousagent,
HollyRoot.Tessa,yourpatienceandsupportwiththisbookmeanttheworldtome,andHolly,iftherewereagoldmedalfor
TalkingAuthorsOffLedges,you’dprobablyhaveanentireroominyourhousefullofthosethingsbynow.Somuchofpublishing
comesdowntoworkingwithgoodpeople,andIamsofortunatetogettoworkwithTheBestinyoutwo!

ThankyoutoeveryoneatAvon/HarperCollinsbothforyoursupportofthesebooksandyourgeneralExcellence.
Asalways,Icouldn’tdothiswithoutthesupportofmyfamilyandfriends,apowerfulcovenindeed.
Lastly,it’sbeensodelightfultoseeSirPurrcivalbecomeTheStarofthesebooks(ASHEWASMEANTTOBE!).He’sbasedonmyowntwoblackcats,apairofbrothersIadoptedfrommylocalhumanesocietyin2018.They’retrulymagicallittleguys,butblackcatsstillhavetroublegettingadoptedduetoallkindsoffactorsrangingfromsuperstitiontothefearthattheywon’tphotographwell(althoughaquicklookatmyInstagramwouldprovethatonewrong!).Soifyou’reconsideringadoptingacat,Ihopeyou’llthinkofSirPurrcivalwhenyoustopbyyourlocalshelterandbringhomeyourownWitchyKitty!AbouttheAuthor
ERINSTERLING,whoalsowritesasRachelHawkins,istheNewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofTheExHexandTheWifeUpstairs,aswellasmultiplebooksforyoungreaders.Herworkhasbeentranslatedinmorethanadozencountries.Shestudiedgender
andsexualityinVictorianliteratureatAuburnUniversityandcurrentlylivesinAlabama.

Discovergreatauthors,exclusiveoffers,andmoreathc.comPraiseforTheExHex
“Aspookyromantic-comedytreatthathadmesighingatonepage,laughingoutloudatthenext.TheExHexistheperfectbookforfall.”

—NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorTessaBailey

“Sterlingcastsaspellonherreaders.”
—USAToday
“Thebookperfectlyhitsthesamesweetspotasthe1998cinematicclassicPracticalMagic,withoutthedarkplotelementsabouttheabusiveex;it’sgotahintofBell,BookandCandlecharmwithoutthecasualmidcenturysexism.It’scozyandcuteandHalloweenappropriate,andRhysisextremelyattractive.TheExHexwas,inshort,ablast.”

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“Ifyoulikeseasonalfallreadsbutdon’twanttojumpfullintohorror,thisistheperfectOctoberbookforyou….
ItpromisesHocusPocusvibes,butwithalotmoreheat.SocurlupwithapumpkinspicelatteandTheExHexforaperfectautumnalreadingexperience.”

—BookRiot
“Humorous,magical,andsexy.”
—TheGloss
“Thisfestiverom-comhasitall!”
—Woman’sWorldCopyright
Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously
andarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,organizations,orpersons,livingordead,
isentirelycoincidental.

thekisscurse.Copyright?2022byRachelHawkins.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypayment
oftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-book
on-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinor
introducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,
nowknownorhereafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.

firstedition
Titlepageart?KuznetsovaDarja/Shutterstock,Inc.
CoverdesignandillustrationbyVi-AnNguyen
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DigitalEdition:SEPTEMBER2022ISBN:978-0-06-302752-7
PrintISBN:978-0-06-302751-0AboutthePublisher
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