“Fiona hadmorethan enough rum. Ask me how I know.” Violet tries to laugh, but it quickly shatters into a sigh, her body slumping against his chest, and without being prompted, without being asked, without being invited or permitted, he rubs a hand up and down her back and asks if she’sfeelingokay.
Un-fucking-believable.
Before I have the opportunity to explain to this handsy, helps-himself-to-hugs-and-backrubs fae thatyes, the witch is feeling just fine—thatI’mthe injured party here, and by the way, why are youstilltouching her?—the door whooshes open and ushers in another demon.
One I’ve never before been so happy to see.
“There you are! Bloody Hell, Dev.” Finn pulls me aside, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’ve been calling in every favor we’ve got left trying to track you down. Took some doing, but we finally traced the magical signature.” He hands over my blessed phone. “I thought we’d lost you for good. You literally vanished into thin air.”
Relief washes over me at the sight of my friend. And my phone. Not necessarily in that order. “Thank you.”
“How the fuck did you end up here, of all places?”
“My services were… urgently requested.”
“By whom?”
I make a vague gesture in the direction of the mushroom, who escaped the fae’s embrace and is now trying—adorably but unsuccessfully—to hide behind a display of regional wines and plastic fall foliage.
Finn’s jaw drops. “You’vegotto be kidding me.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding you?”
“He’s not much of a kidder.” Violet peeks out from behind the wines, taking in the sight of the new demon. “Welcome to Wayward Bay! I really, really hope you’re not another Devil. But if you are, forget I said that. Actually, forget I said anything, other than the welcome part, because I genuinely—”
“Violet?” I sigh. There’s a fine line between adorable and annoying, and she’s definitely trampling over it. “We talked about this.”
“We… we did?”
I make a zipping-my-lips motion. The slightly more polite version of the shut-the-hell-up motion, which I mostly reserve for Finn.
“Oh! That. Right. Less talking, more drinking. Got it.” She mimics the lip-zipping motion, then grabs a bottle from the wine display and pretends to drink, giggling at her own antics.
The corner of my mouth twitches with the flicker of a laugh, but I lock that nonsense downtout de suite.
“A word, Highness?” Finn says through clenched teeth. “In private, if we may?”
Chapter Nine
DEVLIN
Out in front of the store, I crack open two Fireball shots and pass one to Finn, sharing the details on the summoning.
“What about your father?” he asks. “Did you tell her about—”
“No, and there’s no need. I can continue the work here under the guise of my influencer career.”
Finn looks at me as if I’ve completely lost the plot, which… fair enough. “How do you see this working out, Dev? Logistically speaking?”
“Easy. I find a place to host a few gatherings—tea shop, after hours, perhaps—and home in on the most corruptible souls in town.”
“Don’t hold your breath, mate. This town is straight out of the Hallmark Channel handbook. Literally. I recognize it from that fall rom-com we watched last year—what was it called? Halloween Homecoming or some such? Wait, no. That was that the college football porno with the cheerleaders dressed up like slutty goblins and—”
“Setting aside for the moment yourexquisitetaste in films…” I down another Fireball shot, then move on to the butterscotch schnapps, equally terrible but doing its part in keeping my buzz alive. “We need to figure it out. According to her sister, who seems to know a good deal about summoning spells and dark magic, the witch and I are bound.”
“Bound? What does that mean?”
“We can’t leave this town. Or, for that matter…” I take several steps into the street. Hit the wall, nearly stumbling with the force of it. “Each other.”
