“I wouldn’t mind being written into a story,” I say. “Especially if it involves hay lofts and—”
“Hey!” Violet smacks me.
“Exactly. Hay, and—”
“I mean,hey, you’re not allowed to talk about Ambrosia Divine anymore. We had a deal, remember?”
Fiona laughs, then leans over and whispers something to Olivy, who nods and says, “Check your crystal ball if you want, but I called it on day one. These two are definitely going to—”
“Olivy!” Violet glares at her sister, then takes my hand, leading me away. “Let’s dance. Quick, before one of my sisters says something sheshouldn’t. Looking at you, Ols.”
“You can run,” Olivy says with a dark chuckle that would frighten most demons, “but you can’t hide! Oh, Devlin, that reminds me. Someone was looking for you earlier.”
“Who?”
“Didn’t catch his name on account of me not being your secretary, but… Hot demon guy? Dark hair, green eyes—”
“Finn?”
“Maybe? He said he tried the café first, but you weren’t there, then the liquor store, same deal, so he followed the crowd here.”
“Where is he?” I scan the scene, but there’s no sign of my best mate.
“Portaled out through the men’s room—superclassy. Said he couldn’t wait—he had somewhere more important to be than, and I quote, Hallmark Halloween Central. So I told him to go fuck himself, to which he said, ‘Or what?’ And I said, ‘or I’ll dip you in wax and light your dick like a birthday candle.’”
I roll my eyes. “Who hurt you, Olivy? Goodness, the threats. Honestly.”
“Your friend didn’t take it as a threat. He asked me to marry him, actually.” She laughs. “Sick fuck.”
“Yes, that’s definitely Finn. So when’s the big day?”
“Two weeks from never. Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’ve got eighty-seven left, whatever that means. I assume brain cells.”
“You’re a gem, Olivy. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Has anyone ever toldyouto jump into a pit of boiling tar naked?” she asks sweetly. “Oh, and check your fucking phone. That’s him saying it, not me.”
I left my phone at the café on account of having no pockets tonight and no interest in getting creative with my personal carryons like my footballer guest from long ago, but no matter. If Finn says we’ve got eighty-seven left—souls, obviously—that means he doesn’t need me weighing in on tonight’s affairs anyway. Surely, he and Azazel will get the job done at our infamous Halloween bash.
Which means—if all goes according to plan—as soon as Violet and I finish our task in the Bay, I’ll be truly free. Free from my father’s endless punishment. Free to reclaim my throne. Free to go home.
Home.
I’ve wanted it for so long, so desperately, but now the very word feels foreign in my mind, like a language I once spoke but somehow forgot along the way.
I glance around the rotunda, at the gaudy decor, at the masquerading masses, all of them laughing and smiling, waving at me, complementing my costume, and my throat tightens.
Hell doesn’t evenhavepumpkins. Or ghosts and bats and cotton cobwebs. And it certainly doesn’t have these friendly, cheerful, incorruptible people, or costume parties in general, or donuts and cider and mulled wine.
And worst of all, it doesn’t have the tea witch. My fairy princess. My sweet, sexy, fiery little mushroom, dancing her awkward dance, laughing with her sisters and aunts, the music casting its spell over us all.
The tempo picks up, bass thumping, and I grab her hands and spin her around, losing track of time and space and everything but the sound of her laugh, the flutter of her fairy wings, the happy din of her sisters and aunts and friends. I grab her for another twirl, only to be tapped on the shoulder by a rude, insistent finger.
“May I cut in?” the man asks, and I turn to glare.
If it isn’t Twenty Watt Dildo, third of his name, popping up again like a rash that no amount of penicillin will cure.
“Thanks, but you’re not my type.” I wink at Brandt and whisk a giggling Violet away, spin her around and weave deeper into the crowd as one song bleeds into the next, then another, and soon I’ve lost count, foot-stomping and hand-clapping with her sisters and then the gents from the Saints and Sinners liquor store, an appearance from Ricci from the pottery place, everyone having a genuinely good time I wouldn’t have thought possible with the massive amount of clothing and non-alcoholic beverages in the room.
