Page 10

Hannah

Armed with a ginormous travel mug of coffee, I hurry down Main Street the next morning, squinting against the bright colors of all the shop fronts.

I’m not completely hung over—Autumn’s cocktails are purposefully lighter on liquor and heavier on cereal milk than traditional drinks—but I’m bleary enough to wish I could have pounded the alarm quiet and burrowed back into my snuggly bed.

No such luck. Instead, I went to the office early and finished up a bunch of paperwork so that I’d have free time to get Naomi’s help with my magic.

There’s one thing I need to try first. I pull out my phone and make a call. “Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetheart! Have you made me a grandbaby yet?”

I wince. Why does she start every conversation with that? “Nope, not yet. ”

“Do you need any tips? I read a new one. If you lie on your back and prop your butt up on pillows, gravity helps hold the semen in.”

Oh, god. Oh, god. Here it comes. I die inside every time she says the next part.

“Of course, when your father and I were trying for you, we had sex several times each day. Did I tell you I think you were conceived the time we did it with me sitting on top of the washing machine?”

Yes, too many times, but I keep my mouth shut, because any interruption only makes this part of the conversation take even longer.

“The movement added a lot of vibrations, which I think helped. All the experts say female orgasm aids conception. You are having orgasms, right? Do you have a boyfriend yet? Does he need any tips?”

“I’ve started seeing someone, but no tips needed.” It comes out strangled as I try to fight down a hysterical giggle at the thought of Mom giving Severin sex tips. Oh, god! I can only imagine the look on his face!

Her excited shriek hits a high note that goes past the edge of human hearing. I’m surprised it doesn’t make the neighborhood dogs start to howl.

Her joy makes it excruciating for me to tell her about Severin, and it’ll only get worse once I tell her we’re engaged. Maybe I should be glad I’m not allowed to tell her the engagement is fake. It would break her heart.

When she finally stops speaking in delighted squeals, I bring up what I called to talk about. “So, Mom, are there any old family stories about us being witches? ”

“Not that I can recall, dear.”

“What about Dad’s family?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Why?”

“Oh, Severin’s family believes in magic.” Not a lie. “We were talking about it. I wanted us to have that in common.” Total lie, but one that should—

“I’ll look into it immediately!”

Yep, that worked. I just gave Mom the best reason possible to dig into both sides of my family tree. If there’s anything to be found, she’ll find it. “Text me if you find something! I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Naomi.”

An excited yip comes from the green, and Finn runs out of a large patch of ferns he must have been crouching in, because I sure didn’t see his bright-orange coat until now. He trots up to me, then lets out a jaw-cracking yawn, his pink tongue curling with the force of it.

It’s cute as hell, but when I say as much, he shoots me some fox side-eye and says, “Have you ever considered being nocturnal? It’s a much more reasonable way to live.”

“Sorry, bud,” I say. “My job’s pretty nine-to-five, or more like seven-to-seven some days, but still, it’s daylight hours.”

“Foolish humans,” he mutters, then says, “Where are we going?”

“To talk to my friend, Naomi. She’s a witch.”

His ears prick up. “Does she have a familiar?”

“Not that I know of, but she is friends with a talking unicorn.”

“Unicorns aren’t real,” he says, his tone dismissive.

“They are. They’re a type of fae shifter.” I take another swig of coffee. “I’ve met one. ”

“Humph.”

The sign hanging in the large glass window of I Touch My Shelf has been flipped to “Open,” so I’ve timed things perfectly. The wooden door swings inward on an empty shop. Naomi’s probably in the back, packing internet orders. It’s how she’s kept the shop afloat now that fewer tourists visit town.

I open my mouth to call a hello, then snap it shut. Oh, god. How am I supposed to tell her about fake marrying Severin? I’ve been saving her as my third person to tell, but she’s so deliriously in love with her orc husband that I’m not sure she’ll understand a marriage of convenience.

Finn circles the store, nose to the ground, then his body tenses, his paw darting under one of the couches to pull out a brightly colored crunch berry.

He snaps it up, munching the crisp cereal with relish.

He shoves his head back under the couch, his tail a jaunty flag. “That’s good. Are there more of those?”

“Boy, I sure hope not.” I cleaned up after the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club meeting but must have missed a few.

Next time, I’ll just bring Finn, and he can clean up all the dropped bits of cereal.

Then I remember something. “Hey, don’t eat the dark-brown ones!

Chocolate is toxic for animals!” Or at least it is for cats and dogs, so I’m going to assume it’s bad for foxes as well.

“Hello?” Naomi calls out, and the door to the backroom opens. “Hannah!”

My bestie’s beautiful brown face breaks into a huge smile, and she rushes forward to wrap me in one of her signature hugs, all enthusiasm and soft curves.

In junior high, we both had a hot moment where we each envied the other—she wanted my height, and I wanted her generous butt and boobs—but we got over it. We’re both awesome exactly as we are.

She pulls back to beam up at me. “I got your text. You had a meeting in the shop last night?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s okay.” I give her a sheepish smile.

“Of course it is.” Naomi heads for the sofas, her thick brown curls bouncing with every step.

She’s dressed in orc clothes, a pink tunic top embroidered with flowers and brown leather pants and boots, everything custom made to fit perfectly.

Nobody in town seems to have noticed. Then again, there are lots of people like Autumn who do the whole boho-chic look, so Naomi fits right in.

“Now, what’s all of this about magic and fae? Has something happened?”

A memory flashes through my mind—Severin winging through the sky like a fallen angel come to tempt humans to sin.

“You can say that again!” I take a seat beside her and turn to face her, pulling my bent leg up onto the cushion. “Fae are coming to Ferndale Falls. There’s something like a big butterfly that glows bright blue.”

“Those are pixies!” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Little rottens. We should have known they’d find a way to come through on their own. One of the human witches introduced them to pizza, and they’re so obsessed they call Earth ‘Pizza World.’”

“Pizza World?” I laugh, then sober as my ongoing worry about Ferndale Falls’s future rears its ugly head. “It’s too bad the town’s pizzeria closed down, or we could have gotten them some pizza.”

Naomi gives a sad grimace.

“But I might finally have a solution! It turns out pixies aren’t the only kind of fae that have visited. King Severin of the shadow fae dropped in on yesterday’s town meeting. Literally .” I flap my hands like wings.

“Severin! Damn! He’s the last fae I want here on Earth, or almost the last.”

“What? Why?”

“The shadow fae are dangerous. They waged war against the rest of Faerie while under the control of the Dark God.” She puts on her super serious, I-don’t-take-any-shit expression. “His people wiped out all the orcs in Avalon, including Wranth’s parents.”

Oh, god. My stomach twists. I knew Naomi’s husband was an orphan but not why. And this guy I agreed to marry is one of these shadow fae! Might have been a bit hasty. But that’s me—I see something and stampede toward it.

“Severin did that?” I ask.

“Not him personally. He would have been a baby.”

“You say you met him. Did he hurt anyone?” I’m not sure I can accept it if he did.

“No. Not really. He actually ended up helping us defeat the Dark God.” She lets out a huff. “But that’s not the point. The point is you can’t trust him. Shadow fae are manipulative and excellent liars.”

I swallow. At least he didn’t hurt anyone. “Maybe he’s not all bad. He put a protective bubble of magic around the town to keep us safe. Only witches and people accepting of magic will see any of the wacky stuff going on here. And he even says he’ll get new businesses and customers for us!”

“That sounds great and all, but there’s no way he’s doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart.”

“No, you’re right.” I take a big swig of coffee to give myself an extra moment to prepare, then blurt, “He needs a wife.”

“A what?” she shrieks.

I give her a sheepish grin.

“And this ‘wife’ is you?” Naomi points at me.

“Yep.”

“Argh!” She throws up her hands. “I love you like a sister, Hannah, but for god’s sake, you have to get over this self-sacrificing stuff.”

“Hey.” Hurt threads through me. “That’s not fair!”

“Isn’t it?” she says. “You’ve already given years to this town, and now you’re going to marry a stranger? It’s too much!”

“It’s a fake marriage! And it’s totally worth it. I’ve wanted to be mayor since I was a little kid. I worked for it all through high school and college. It’s not just a job for me—it’s who I am. And I want to be good at it. I want to help this town and everyone who calls it home.”

“Is that your dream or your father’s?” Naomi’s eyes search my face, and she grips my hand to tell me she knows she’s asking a difficult question.

“No. It’s got nothing to do with Dad.” As a senator, he’s happy I went into politics. But he’s always trying to push me to run for higher-level positions, saying more power means helping more people. My job as mayor is definitely not what he wants .