I should have reported her. Matt would’ve taken her badge right there on the street and sent her belongings home in a box. If you’re not at your best, you’re out. Rules are rules, he used to say; a carbon copy of my grandfather.
But I couldn’t do it.
I’d been there. My magic used to waver all the time, dulled by sleepless nights and, once, from too much tequila.
Now,thathad been a crazy night.
Pretty sure there was still a mug shot of me floating around somewhere after I got caught climbing the city’s hundred-foot Christmas tree to fix the broken star.
Some say I’d saved Christmas. The arresting officer said it was a misdemeanor.
But back then, I laughed it off and never bothered to fix the problem, knowing my magic would eventually right itself.
These things happened. The stress agents were under, the constant pressure to perform miracles, and the cases that hit too close to home; they all took a toll. And sometimes, the cost showed up in our spells. We should support agents instead of punishing them for the hazards of the job.
I would have told her that if we were speaking about anything deeper than the weather. But if I was being honest, I was nervous about making waves so early in my position. Valerie felt like she needed to hide her vulnerabilities, and I needed to hide that I wasn’t like my family and never would be.
The thought sat heavy in my chest, right where Valerie’s anniversary card had dug a hole.
This was already shaping up to be the worst Christmas ever, and if I looked ahead to next year, it was an even bigger winner. I’d be secretlydivorced.
I dropped my head into my hands with a muttered curse.Great job, Delaney. You’ve got a cold marriage, and more paperwork under your tree than presents. Maybe there’s a kid on crutches named Tim you can adopt just to make his life miserable, too.
With a mocking laugh, I reached for the case file Valerie had left on my desk and flipped open the cover. I was curious about what she’d picked. If I had to guess, it would be some Romeo-and-Juliet spinoff where she mixes a love potion instead of poison and serves it to the dueling families at Christmas dinner.
But my eyes widened as I read through the file. Of all the cases collecting dust in the basement, leave it to Valerie to pick the hardest one when her magic was unstable.
There was a reason this case was cold. It shouldn’t have even been in the log. Leadership had scrubbed it from the system years ago.
I scanned the list of agents who’d already tried to solve it: everyone had either missed the Christmas Eve deadline or ended up traumatized. Some both. Then there was the agent who’d landed in the hospital with a broken leg and a concussion. She didn’t know her name for a solid week.
All because of that stupid key. The agency shouldn't have offered it, and now Valerie wanted it. She was willing to risk everything for the wish it granted.
That shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did. I wanted out, too. I did. And if I kept saying it, maybe one day, I'd even believe it. But ever since that retreat, something had shifted for me. Not that it mattered, since Valerie was literally counting down the days until we were stricken from the record.
What did matter was that icicles would form in the tropics before I signed off on this. I wouldn’t send my enemy—let alone my wife—into that haunted inn.
I frowned. Weird that those two titles were one and the same.
She’ll go even if you say no.
That blasted elf on my shoulder was back, and unfortunately, right. She’d get herself hurt or end up possessed by nightmares. Maybe even actually possessed. Who knew what that ghost was really after? Probably a human host who liked heels, holiday leggings, and iced mochas while complaining about the cold.
I cursed under my breath. If Valerie wanted an enchanted key to undo our magical mistake, then fine. Consider it my anniversary gift.
At least ending our marriage early would stop the mailroom from filling up with couples-resort advertisements. We could finally go back to our regularly scheduled rivalry, and I could stop losing sleep wondering what it would be like if our accidental marriage was the real thing.
“Guess I’m spending Christmas in a Victorian death trap,” I said, pulling the requisition form toward me and adding my signature under hers.
I’d wanted a case, and now I had one.
Chapter 13
Valerie
By the time theinn came into view, I’d already listened to the same radio loop of holiday carols ten times, and my voice was hoarse from singing about silent nights and joy to the world at volumes you can only get away with inside your car. Silverpine Inn rose from the hillside just beyond the bustling town center and its rows of storybook shops, the Victorian gables sharp against the gray horizon.
The place was beautiful, in a spooky,are you sure this is the hotel we booked?kind of way—equal parts gingerbread and haunted house. Frost feathered the tall windows, wreaths hung from every balcony, and the crooked weather vane on the turret creaked in the wind as if it might snap off and add another ghost to the guest book.
