Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Vivi reached up to readjust the little papier-mâché witch hanging over the cash register at Something Wicked, and Gwyn, standing behind the counter, leaned forward, putting her chin in her hands.

Vivi smiled again, but if she were being honest, she still felt a little . . . well, not guilty, exactly. Rhys was a powerful witch, and he’d been maybe a half mile from the Penhallow house. He could take care of himself.

But maybe it had been kind of bitchy to just leave him there, especially after he’d been surprisingly chill about the whole “nearly run over” thing.

Of course, that wasn’t actually surprising. “Chill” was Rhys’s default setting, after all.

And charming.

He’d been really freaking charming last night.

Suppressing a sigh, she moved over to the display of crystal balls, running her hands over the nearest one.

Elaine’s store was just as cozy and perfect as her house and today, decked out for Founder’s Day, it was at its absolute best. Candles had been lit, filling the store with the smell of bay and sage, and crystals were spilled out on black velvet tablecloths like recently discovered jewels.

Even Gwyn looked magical and mystical today, decked out in a clingy black dress and knee-high suede boots, her long red hair curling around her face.

Vivi was a little more subtle in her black pants and purple striped sweater, but then she was just the local history teacher, not the proprietress of the town’s witch shop.

Besides, she’d been distracted this morning.

She’d spent a solid ten minutes in the shower replaying last night, and for all the time that had passed, for all the tears she’d cried over the awful way it had ended, when she’d looked down into those blue eyes, that same hank of dark hair falling over his forehead, that same lazy grin, her heart had knocked solidly against her ribs, her stomach had dropped and she wasn’t even going to think about what certain other parts of her had done.

Needless to say, her body definitely remembered how much it had liked his, which was deeply unfair and, quite frankly, treasonous of it.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and reminded herself of the mantra she’d come up with driving away from him last night.

He is the worst, he is the worst, he is the actual, literal worst.

It probably wasn’t that enlightened a mantra, but it got the job done, and when she opened her eyes, it was a little easier to remember there were good reasons she’d left without a second glance, both nine years ago and last night.

Vivi glared at Gwyn. “No,” she lied, and was saved from any more questions by the ringing of the chime over the door.

Vivi looked over at Jane Ellis, a tiny brunette who had a seriously great stiletto game. Today’s pair were bright orange, working nicely with her black suit and the skull studs in her ears.

Clearing her throat, Vivi stepped forward and, with supreme effort, kept from fidgeting with her hands. Gwyn always said that was her tell.

With a frustrated sound, Jane looked down at her phone. “Well, he’s due to give the Founder’s Day speech in twenty minutes, and he has yet to check in at the welcome booth.”

Vivi relaxed a little. Okay, if that was the only cause for concern, maybe Rhys wasn’t actually lying dead in a ditch on the side of the mountain. The words “welcome booth” were probably up there with “fiscal responsibility” and “ethical monogamy” in terms of phrases he’d shy away from.

She looked up at Gwyn, beseeching. “He’s on. The. Program.”

Vivi sniffed and waved a hand. “Oh, it was ages ago, and we haven’t kept in touch. And like I said, I’m sure he’ll be here. Tradition is really important to the Penhallows, and he came all this way just to do this.”

And he’s definitely not dead, I did not actually leave him to die or get eaten by wolves, there aren’t any wolves left in Georgia, I’m pretty sure. Although there are bears . . .

As Vivi hustled out of the shop, she heard Gwyn say to Jane, “See? Problem solved!”

Vivi definitely hoped so.

The main street through Graves Glen’s downtown was already starting to fill up even though the sky was gray and the temperature had dropped overnight, going from pleasantly autumnal to downright crisp.

As Vivi looked up, clouds moved quickly overhead, and she hoped the whole thing wasn’t about to be rained out. They’d had hot, humid Founder’s Days before, but usually, the magic thrumming under everything kept bad weather at bay.

A gust of wind blew down the street, rattling the plastic pumpkins hanging from the old-fashioned gas lamps, and Vivi wished she’d grabbed her coat from the back room of Something Wicked.

Hopefully she’d spot Rhys pretty quickly, get him over to the welcome booth, and then she could spend the rest of the day helping Elaine and Gwyn out at the shop. She’d be damned if she was going to stand in the crowd and watch Rhys make a big speech about the history of the town, his family honor or whatever it was he was actually planning to say.

As she passed a family all dressed up like witches, complete with the pointy hats, Vivi smiled. She loved Founder’s Day, even when it involved her ex. It kicked off the whole Halloween season, and the town filled up with people really committed to having fun. According to Aunt Elaine, in the past, Founder’s Day had been a more somber affair, a recognition of the sacrifices the Penhallows had made in founding this little village, tucked away in the mountains. Gryffud Penhallow had died his first year here, after all, and there was a legend that his ghost still roamed the hills above the town.

But over the past decade—and after a series of mayors like Jane—Graves Glen had transformed itself into a Halloween hotspot. There was the name, of course, but also the whole charming small town thing, the trees glowing bright orange, the apple orchards just on the edge of the village. And since Founder’s Day was October thirteenth, it had slowly morphed into the natural starting point of their busiest season.

Sorry, Gryffud.

There were already booths set up selling everything from candy apples to “Halloween trees,” little miniature Christmas trees painted black and decorated with wooden pumpkins, witch hats and ghosts.

Vivi waved at several people she knew, including Ezi, who was buying a giant bag of kettle corn with her boyfriend, Stuart, and kept her eyes peeled for that familiar lanky gait, that rumpled hair, those broad shoulders.

Finally, just when she was about to think he might actually be in a bear’s stomach somewhere between her aunt’s cabin and the bottom of the mountain, Vivi spotted him.

He was standing just outside Coffee Cauldron, a truly enormous paper cup in hand, and as Vivi approached, he pulled the coffee in even closer.

His eyes were hidden by sunglasses despite the gray day, a look that would’ve been douchey on any other man, but one that he was, unsurprisingly, pulling off.

It helped that the rest of his outfit was equally great. Gray trousers, a white button-down unbuttoned just so, a deep charcoal vest and around his neck, a silver pendant with a dark purple jewel.

Vivi had a sudden, explicit memory of that same pendant dangling against her chest as he’d moved above her, inside her, and felt her face flame hot.

She hadn’t even liked jewelry on men before him, but that necklace suited him, the delicacy of the chain emphasizing the width of his chest, the adornment making him somehow more masculine, not less.

Rhys sipped his coffee and didn’t say anything, but she felt like he probably knew what she was thinking.

Which might have been why her tone was a little sharp when she said, “You need to go to the welcome booth.”

He pulled a face. “The fuck is that?”

Rolling her eyes, Vivi took him by the elbow, steering him away from the coffee shop and toward the row of tents set up in the side street between Something Wicked and The Written Wyrd.

He stopped, pulling them up short, and as he turned to look at her, Rhys reached up to slide his sunglasses down his nose.

Vivi could feel a few heads turn their way. She only spotted a handful of other witches in the crowd, people she knew from the college, so most of the people looking at them had no idea who Rhys was. He was just the kind of person who attracted stares.

She’d really liked that about him. Once.

Now, she leaned in and said, “Okay, maybe don’t announce that to the whole town and half the tourists in Georgia, but yes, that, and then home. The going home part is really what I want you to focus on.”

Vivi went to tug him back down the street again, but he stood firm, and she’d forgotten that for someone who looked so rangy, he was a pretty solid guy. He definitely wasn’t moving.

She blinked. “To Wales?”

That slow smile had once completely undone her, and now made her want to smack it off his face.

Or kiss it.

One or the other.

In spite of herself, Vivi felt a little thrill at that. She’d never visited the ley lines, which lay in a cave on the mountain opposite from Elaine’s mountain. The cave was a sacred space, only ever visited, as far as she knew, by Penhallows.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never wanted to see them. To get close to that kind of power.

And then she remembered it. The Solstice Revel, the two of them in a tent, her head spinning with magic and desire and the sheer thrill of this man, that night.

You know, we’re not far from the ley lines here, he’d said, kissing the tip of her nose. The source of all the magic in this valley. My ancestor laid them down himself.

Oh, I didn’t realize I was making out with visiting royalty, she’d teased, and he’d smiled at her, kissed her again.

I’ve always wanted to see those. Later, whispered against the warm skin of his neck.

I’ll take you there.

He hadn’t. They hadn’t lasted long enough for that little trip.

But now he was offering it again.

Was it a peace offering? Or a deeply misguided seduction attempt?

She looked into his blue eyes, and realized she really had no idea.

And at the same moment, she realized she also didn’t care. Getting up close and personal with the ley lines was an honor few witches got, and she was taking it.