Page 17 of Bewitched (Hexes and Fangs: Holiday Editions #1)

The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves as we walk, our footsteps barely disturbing the quiet hush that hangs over the graveyard.

The lights are flickering through the twisted branches of old trees, casting shadows that dance across the worn gravestones.

A Halloween graveyard party. The perfect place to start undoing the spell.

I run my fingers along the edges of a moss-covered marker, its inscription worn and barely legible.

I pause at a marble angel, its stone wings spread in eternal vigilance.

A single crow perched atop it, head cocked, as if studying her, listening to her whispers.

A couple of ghosts holding hands runs between the tombstones, their cold breeze knocking over a vase of dried flowers.

I make my way to it, lifting them up and restoring them to their place.

"They will knock it over. Over and over again."

I shift in the direction of the voice behind me. The male ghost is crouching on a bench.

"Nice hat." His eyes are fixed on my witch hat.

"I’m a witch."

"No one would tell." He laughs and stands up.

I laugh. "Are you here for the party?" I place the vase on the concrete bed.

"You guys are in my garden."

"So it’s your party."

"Yeah." He floats to my right. "The party is that way."

Flickering lanterns cast ghostly shadows over cracked tombstones, mist is creeping in from the ground like lost spirits rising for the night.

Guests are already dancing and drinking in their most haunting attires, ready to revel the midnight chill.

The sound of rock music is waking up the dead and people are sipping dark-themed drinks—maybe witch’s brew or blood punch, with alcohol in them, of course.

Games include a ghost-story contest near an ancient crypt, a scavenger hunt for hidden bones and a dance floor where skeletons sway to the beat of drums. Jack-o’-lanterns glow dimly, watching over the party like silent guardians, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots.

They used glow-in-the-dark paint to make gravestones eerily glow.

Everything else is covered in spiderweb.

The smell of smoke becomes familiar.

"Nice dress, nightshade." A finger brushes my spine, delicately rising up my vertebrae.

"Would you like to dance with me?" I ask the ghost and take his hand leaving the vampire behind.