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“Face it,” Jewels added. “You’re no match for us.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Astrid stepped forward. “She’s a Daughter of the Veil. She can’t remove the bracelet. The power of the Nexus belongs to our coven now.”
“No it doesn’t.” Montgomery joined Willow and tucked her into his side. “It belongs to me.”
He produced the deed, with his name written in big, scrawling letters. It was Bliss’ idea to make it look aged and falling apart.
Astrid shot a flame from her fingers, but the document was covered in magic to give the impression it couldn’t be contested. He was the owner. Not Willow.
“My contract of ownership is no good anymore,” Willow said. “You’ve lost.”
“You’re dead,” Nadine sneered at Montgomery.
“Do I look dead to you?”
Nadine and Astrid exchanged knowing mean girl looks—but with some kind of special witchy telepathy.
“Obviously Celeste couldn’t deliver,” Nadine said. “But Willow can.”
“Oh yes,” said Astrid.
And both women raised their arms, conjuring a rushing wind inside the bookshop, sending pages of the books all over. Willow felt a force lifting her off the ground, and the more she struggled, the stronger the hold on her. It was as if there were invisible ropes tied around her. And when she looked down, not only was her garnet on the floor several feet below her, but she was also wearing an old-fashioned wedding dress. The kind with too much lace.
“Willow!” Montgomery stretched out his arm to her, but she was just out of reach. Then he started to rise off the floor too, and his clothing transformed into a bad 70s tuxedo. They were both suspended in the air, completely helpless.
Willow tried to call out, but her mouth clamped shut with a sort of gooey putty, muffling her screams.
“What my dear?” Daria said. “Wedding day jitters?”
“You can’t to thi—” Montgomery’s mouth clamped shut with the same goo before he could finish.
“Excuse the wedding clothes,” Jewels said. “We had such short notice.”
With a malevolent grin, Nadine assumed the role of officiant and signaled Rowena and Jewels to act as witnesses.
From out of nowhere, an eerie, off key wedding march sounded, and Willow noticed a snake-like ring on her finger.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Nadine said with an oily sneer. “Do you Willow Ravensong, take this man as your lawful wedded husband? Of course you do.”
She snapped her fingers, and Jewels levitated up to Willow, wrapped her fingers around her head and shook it up and down.
“She says yes,” chirped Jewels.
“And do you, Montgomery Harland, take this woman… blah blah blah.”
Jewels clutched Montgomery’s head like a football and forced a nod out of him, too.
“Okay, that’s that. You already have the ring. Then by the authority invested in me, I now pronounce—”
Just then, plaster crumbled down from the ceiling, followed by the roof caving in. And through it, Esme, Bliss, and Ivy crashed into the bookshop.
Willow cried tears of relief. Not because she didn’t have to marry Montgomery. She might like to do just that one day… but pick out her own dress, among other things.
Esme extended both her hands out, wielding the wind inside the shop to her advantage.
“Nobody puts Baby in the corner!” she bellowed, and then Willow and Montgomery’s invisible shackles fell off and they drifted down to the floor.
But Nadine shouted at the top of her lungs, “Man and wife!” And cackling, she wailed, “You’re too late.”
