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I cast her a sidelong glance and followed her gaze down the lane, toward the dimly lit outline of the old basilisk’s house.

“I met him the other day,” I said, breaking the silence. “He’s the one who told me about the trick with BooDini.”

Jen parted her lips like she was about to say something, then hesitated, clamping her mouth shut instead. Only when the house was completely out of sight did Jen finally speak. “My family was very close to them,” she murmured. “My mom and dad spent a lot of time at their house. Especially that last summer.” Her fingers fidgeted with the frayed sleeve of her hoodie. “Ms. Cadmus had started to become forgetful. She’d misplace things. Get lost. My parents spent a lot of that summer trying to help her.”

A memory stirred in the back of my mind—Mr. Cadmus standing at the end of his lane, the thick scent of loss clinging to him, that underlying peppery tinge of confusion still hanging in the air. The old basilisk had looked tired, and if he had been leaning on Jen’s parents for help nearly a decade ago, chances were he still needed some now.

“Mr. Cadmus told me to visit sometime,” I said, glancing at her carefully. “Would you... maybe want to come with me?”

Jen shook her head. “I think I’m the last person they’d want to see.”

“He said you didn’t deserve what happened to you,” I countered.

The words sat heavy between us, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mr. Cadmus had come to the same conclusion I had—there had to be more to it. A tampered brake line alone shouldn’t have been enough to kill two experienced witches.

Jen let out a quiet, indistinguishable noise that made it clear the conversation wasover. And just like that, we settled into an awkward silence.

So much for my plan to get to know Jen on the ten-minute walk into town.

As the moon slipped behind a thick block of clouds, the towering, gnarled trees swallowed the path into darkness. A moment later, the first twinkle of town lights flickered through the trees, faint but promising.

Fortunately, being born of shadows, I had no problem seeing in the dark.

Jen, however, wasnotso lucky.

I watched—half in caution, half in amusement—as she did her best to navigate the path with some semblance of dignity, only to end up waddling like a penguin after leg day.

“You know, I can see perfectly in the dark,” I said, grinning. “Do you want to take my arm, Jen?”

“Good for you. I’ve walked this path for years. I’m fine on my own, thanks,” she ground out, her steps slow and deliberate. Thankfully forpenguin-Jen, it was only a few more torturous moments before the soft beam of a streetlamp stretched across the path. She let out a little huff of triumph at not having face-planted the ground, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Jen snapped a glare at me—a look I wasslowlystarting to love—before yanking her hoodie tighter around her and marching off down the street.

Headless Hollow was a quaint little town by day, but once gloaming set in, it transformed into a hive of activity.

The cozy cafés that had served breakfast rolls and coffee hours ago now bustled with late-night patrons, their breakfast menus swapped for trendy cocktails and expensive wines. The streets glittered with fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the cobblestones as monsters of every conceivable variety filled the walkways, laughter and conversation spilling into the crisp night air.

Beside me, Jen kept her head low, pulling her hoodie tighter around her face.

“We can just go back to the cabin,” I offered, keeping my voice light.

Jen was uncomfortable. This town was filled with people who knew her past, who would whisper about what she had done. The thought of dragging her into a bar, forcing a smile while I flirted with strangers, felt...wrong.

Jen’s gaze flicked up at me from beneath the curtain of her hair. Though most of her expression was hidden, I could still see the steely determination in her eyes. “I made you a promise,” she said firmly. “You’re holding up your end of the deal.” Her tone left no room for argument.

A few moments later, we arrived at a neon-green building, its façade casting a soft glow onto the cobblestone street. Above the entrance, an apple-shaped sign pulsed with phosphorescent light, illuminating the bar’s name in curling, enchanted script:The Poisoned Appletini.

I pushed open the door, holding it for Jen as she scurried past me. She moved quickly, hugging the edges of the room, weaving through the dimly lit space until she reached the darkest corner, where she finally settled.

Something in my chest tightened.

She was hiding.Again.

I watched as her gaze swept the bar, her posture tense at first, then slowly relaxing as she melted into the darkness. She really did look beautiful, cloaked in shadows... though maybe I was just biased, being a demon born of them.

Images of my shadows coiling around her flooded my mind. Shaking off the thought, I stepped toward her. “Can I get you a drink?”

“That’s good,” she murmured, nodding in approval. “Not desperate. Friendly. And just the right amount of seduction to suggest a drink as more thanjustfriends.”