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“Okay. What are your terms?” Sylvia asked.

“We want you gone—” Hugo started.

“You already mentioned that,” Sylvia said with a flourished hand gesture. “Is there more?”

“No. We want you to never return. To leave the people of Newbury Grove alone. We want you to restore all distribution contracts with Raskin’s Neighborhood Market. No more disruptions.”

“That’s it?”

He’s been gone too long.

“Where did he go?” Hugo asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Sylvia said. “I told you, it’s in good faith. I’m many things, but I’m also honest. Now . . . my counter offer. I’ll accept your offer, plus the spell, but I want your witchy girlfriend to work for me.”

Hugo’s heart sank at the very thought of Alice working for this monster. “How long?”

“For as long as she’s useful to me. Her skills are exquisite, and I plan on expanding my little empire with her as the backbone. My resources. Her skills. That spell. We’d be unstoppable. We’d have worldwide distribution. It’s the perfect union of vampires and witches,” Sylvia said as she interlocked her hands together. “Together. Peacefully. With me at the helm.”

“Peace as long as you’re in charge?”

“What is peace, but others’ acceptance of defeat.”

“It was never about the spell, was it?” Hugo asked.

“Oh . . . Oh, no,” Sylvia said. “The spell is more powerful than you can imagine. I’ve spent multiple lifetimes searching for it. I almost had it if not for that blundering idiot, Alabaster Sinclair. It was tracked out west. Alabaster sent one of his hired goons to retrieve itbefore my people could get to the spell. If you want something done right, do it yourself.”

“How do you know that name?”

“You don’t know your history very well, do you, Hugo Dodds? The Sinclair family’s motivations were . . . well, less than altruistic. If I’m not mistaken, this town was founded by a Sinclair. She thought it held a special tree of some sort.”

The fairy tree! Alice was right.

Hugo jolted at the sound of the kitchen door swinging open.

Sebastian returned holding a red paper gift bag. “It took me a little longer to find it. It was moved.”

“We’ll deal with the staff member tomorrow,” Sylvia replied. “Besides, it allowed me to give our friend Hugo here a brief history lesson.”

Sebastian moved to the closest chair, to Hugo’s left, and sat down. He placed the bag in front of Hugo. “Your gift.”

Why did he move? Does he know?

With his left hand, Hugo grasped the bag, while his right hand remained still by his side. Hesitantly, he peered inside. The soft glow of the candlelight cast an air of mystery, leaving the contents shrouded in secrecy. It resembled a tangled mess of yarn, all knotted together.

“Please take it out,” Sylvia said.

Leave. Leave now! While you can.

Hugo delved into the bag. He gripped the cotton fibers of something knitted and withdrew it. Awestruck, he examined the red knit hat held in his grasp. While he hadn’t seen it, he knew exactly who wore such a hat—Sam.

“I was hoping to give it to Alice personally, but since she decided to skip out on negotiations, you’ll have to deliver to it her yourself,” Sylvia said.

Hugo shot a glance to Sebastian and then Sylvia with malice in his eyes. “Where did you get this?”

Sebastian replied, “An old friend of Alice’s. She wanted her tohave it as a reminder of a life long gone. She begged us to give it to her before . . . What was her name again?”

“It was short for something. Hmm.” Sylvia tapped a finger against her lips, deep in thought. “Ah, I remember. Her name was Sam.”