Page 17 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

“This place is fantastic,” Peregrine gushed as they sat down around an ornate gold table with a glass top. The structure of the chairs matched the carved acanthus leaves on the table legs, and the teal brocade upholstery also coordinated with the color of the area rug beneath their table. “I bet the color coding helps the waitstaff.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” agreed Magdalena, distracted. She was too focused on a topic she deemed more important to be taken in by elaborate interior design. She watched the waitress fill their champagne flutes with the first of their bottomless mimosas, waiting for her to move out of earshot before turning to Saga. “So if you’re not going to sleep with the hot vampire woman, do you have your eye on anyone these days?”

Iona wasn’t a vampire. Though Saga wouldn’t have put it past her to drink someone’s blood. For all she knew, that was absolutely part of the contract. Those mythologies had to come from somewhere.

“Saga?” Magdalena prompted gently.

Saga blinked. How long had she let her mind wander on that? “I’ve been…” Solving a murder, learning about a secret magical world, struggling to recover from the memory of being kidnapped and nearly sacrificed—all of these were true, but she couldn’t exactly say them. She scanned the room to ensure Iona was nowhere to be seen. “I haven’t really thought about…” Moonlight. Silver. Even in the middle of Iona’s hypnotic magic, she’d been expecting to see Avery’s eyes when she looked up.

Her cheeks felt warm, and the memory of her recent Iona encounter mixed with her last memory of Avery. They’d been drunk on relief, delirious, exhausted, and tangled in an embrace. Avery’s breath against her lips. Their proximity allowing Saga the opportunity to memorize every flash of mercury in the other woman’s irises. For a moment, she’d thought…

She cleared her throat. “I think I’m ready to start exploring that idea.”

“Good!” chimed Darcy. “That’s the first step, and I’m really proud of you.”

“You deserve someone great,” Peregrine agreed.

Magdalena raised her mimosa for a toast. “Fuck Hugh Davenport, may he live to be the loneliest bastard and finally have that eternal smirk wiped from his dumb face.”

“Fuck Hugh Davenport!” They all clinked their champagne flutes.

Saga stopped short of bringing the glass to her lips. The declaration was not quite the balm it had been months ago. Perhaps she’d lost hold of the anger, or she just didn’t want to linger on it anymore. Either way she’d be grateful if the spotlight focused on anyone but herself. “How’s things with Phillip?”

Darcy looked surprised by what should have been a normal question. She and Phillip had been dating for nearly three years now and, despite being polar opposites, were still utterly head over heels for each other. “Oh, great.” Darcy blushed. “Amazing. Perfect, really.”

Magdalena’s mouth quirked. “Well, that’s one too many to not be suspicious.”

Peregrine frowned. “What’s he gone and done?”

“Nothing!” Darcy’s melodic alto squeaked uncharacteristically. “He’s wonderful. He’s just…” Her gaze focused intently on her glass as she fiddled with the stem. “You know how I work long hours and…he misses me and sometimes traveling with work…”

“Darcy…” Magdalena’s amused curiosity melted to worry.

“I encouraged him to find a club or a hobby or something,” Darcy tried to explain. “Something that would be just his.”

Saga’s heart fell. “Don’t tell me… I mean, he didn’t…”

Darcy’s eyes widened like saucers. “No!” Realizing she’d spoken too quickly and this made it seem more suspicious, she took a moment to compose herself. “No…it’s…” Her hands covered her face, which was now a deep rose. “Oh, this is embarrassing.”

Peregrine gently squeezed her arm. “We’re not going to laugh, Darce.”

Darcy took a deep breath and spoke through her hands. While it lightly muffled the sound, very clearly they heard the words, “He’s joined a Morris side.”15

No one said a word. No one moved. For a moment, they sat with this as if it would take on new meaning with time.

When it didn’t, Saga clarified, “What, with the bells?”

The silence broken, they all burst into laughter.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Darcy accused, but she herself was giggling.

“With that buildup, we thought you were going to tell us he cheated on you!” Peregrine wiped at her eyes.

“No, he would never,” Darcy asserted.

“This is so much worse than cheating,” Magdalena teased. “Can you imagine Phillip in the ribbons and the little white pants?”

“I bet he’s adorable,” added Peregrine.