Page 3 of Hex Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve #7)

Heat washed over her as he closed the distance between them, and she gritted her teeth against the sensation. She hated knowing where he was in a room, just by how her skin felt in relation to him.

“What’s with the glasses?” she asked instead of answering him, tone snippy, as she tossed a chunk of her long hair over her shoulder. Some of it may have whacked him in the face. Oops.

Instead of growing annoyed like she expected, he carefully picked up a lock of her hair, inspecting the beads, shells, and charms she’d added to the waist-length mass. Each one spelled for protection—or some other task. “What’s with the beads in yer hair?”

The scent of heather and woodsmoke— his scent—reached her.

She tried not to breathe.

Tamsin turned her head to glare at him. “None of your business.”

He ran a thumb over her hair, and she swore it almost felt like he was stroking her skin instead. She yanked her tress back and his grip loosened as he let it slide slowly through his fingers, the image of her hair gliding in his hand burning into her mind.

Fuck.

She swallowed, hating the way she suddenly felt—as if her body was attuned to his every move, eagerly awaiting more.

She decided that she hated his hands.

No, that wasn’t true, and she well knew it. He had the kind of hands that appealed to her on a visceral level: long fingers, clean nails, sinewy—like he knew how to use his hands, and how to take care of them. She just hated that he had those hands.

“Physics professor, my ass,” she mumbled to herself.

Sure, he might dress like one, but he acted like a damned alpha shifter half the time. He toned it down when he was with the House’s co-ruler, Kieran Aspen, because the phantom wasn’t an idiot. And he also muted it with his family, because they were, well, his family. But it was a mask.

“I can assure ye,” Max said, leaning in a little too comfortably, “I was verra much a physics professor.”

Her entire left side felt like it was being scalded by the heat of him. She didn’t dare look in his direction—if she did, she might try to strangle him.

And add to the body count on the lawn.

That was absolutely what she would do, and nothing else.

She decided to ignore his deliberate taunting and pointed at the circled news item. “Is this a dead body that’s actually dead , or is it a phantom pretending to be dead to scare newcomers?” she asked.

The House of Death and Diamond was too new to have major enemies, but it still had its unfair share.

And the folk who lived at Braemar Castle had no qualms in killing said enemies if they got too close to their headquarters.

But sometimes, the younger phantoms would play ‘dead’, trying to freak out the new members of the House.

Hence a dead body may not actually be a dead body .

“Well, that’s the fun part, isnae it, lass?”

Tamsin hissed at the nickname. She was not a ‘lass’, or his ‘lass’, or anyone’s ‘lass’, for that matter. “Don’t call me that.”

“I feel like ye may have a wee anger problem if ‘lass’ upsets ye,” Max murmured, the deep resonance of his voice settling into her bones.

Tamsin scowled. She opened her mouth to set him straight, when the door opened suddenly. They stepped apart automatically, making her realize just how closely they’d moved to each other to begin with.

“Ah! My two favorite employees!” Kieran Aspen announced, a little too happily, and with much more enthusiasm than he approached, well, anything except Sabrina. He strode into the room like his mate owned it—which she did.

Sabrina’s consort was an improbable half-fae, half-vampire hybrid, who could see not only ghosts but also phantoms without even trying.

He wore his black hair in a manbun today, along with his usual ensemble of black clothes and a leather jacket.

He claimed the combination didn’t show the blood as much, and that leather was easy to wipe off, making sure he stayed both clean and efficient.

Tamsin fought the urge to roll her eyes at the manbun.

Sabrina quickly followed her mate into the room, her red hair curling around her pale face, and her mouth creased into her usual smile.

She was a surprisingly happy person, considering she’d been murdered, turned into a ghost, ignored for years, and then handed a title she’d never wanted.

Oh, and as if that wasn’t enough, she’d also ended up mated to a psychopath.

And said psychopath? Well, he was an asshole to everyone but Sabrina.

Their relationship oddly worked.

“That greeting was a little too…friendly,” Tamsin muttered to Max out the side of her mouth, previous annoyance set aside under burgeoning suspicion.

Max tensed beside her—either from coming to the same conclusion as her or from something else, she wasn’t sure—as the phantom turned to face his niece and her consort, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made his biceps extremely noticeable.

Look at Sabrina. Look. At. Sabrina.

Tamsin hated how aware she was of this man’s proximity, no matter where they were or who they were with. And she had no idea why. He just…got under her skin.

She figured it was because he was two-faced: pretending to be friendly while secretly being an alphahole. This time, however, she wasn’t going to be fooled by charms and charisma. She’d learned her lesson after Nigel.

She didn’t trust Max. She wouldn’t allow herself.

“Kieran, why are Tamsin and Uncle Max looking like they’re about to attend their own funeral?” Sabrina asked, looping an arm around her mate’s torso where he’d come to a stop in front of the aforementioned couple. He pulled her closer, chin coming to rest on the top of her head.

“I just said they’re my two favorite employees,” he muttered, but a small smirk reached his lips.

Fucker was playing with them.

“I have been telling him to be nicer.” Sabrina sighed, but gave them a ‘what can you do?’ look.

Tamsin hadn’t even realized there was a look for that.

“There’s an All Hallows’ Eve party happening in the Crossroads,” Sabrina continued, like the topic wasn’t completely out of left field and unrelated to her consort’s new approach to friendliness. “We were invited.”

“What do you need done while you’re gone?” Tamsin asked. She figured they at least wanted her to make a portal for the journey to the town.

But Sabrina shook her head. “We were going to go?—”

Kieran cut in, “But Sin can’t make it, so we’re visiting her instead.”

Sin Santiago was Kieran’s half-sister, and now, queen of the fae homeward, Avalon.

Considering he hadn’t known about her existence until the portal opened in the Crossroads a few months ago, they’d become close quickly.

Which had been a surprise to almost everyone, Sin included.

But the fact that Sabrina could make friends with anyone seemed to help, and Kieran took the whole ‘blood is thicker than water’ a little too seriously, which given his past, shouldn’t have been all that surprising to anyone who knew his story.

Not that any of it had shocked Tamsin.

But then, she’d known that Kieran had a half-sister for at least a decade or so. Or was it longer? She tapped her chin as she thought.

“We reached out to the party’s hostess to pass on our apologies, and she sent new invitations. She was keen to have representatives from the House of Death and Diamond there,” Sabrina said.

“Okay…” Max’s gray eyes narrowed behind his glasses, seeming to pick up on what his niece was hinting at.

Tamsin’s stomach started to feel heavy. Her hand dropped to her side.

“So, you’re both now going on behalf of the House of Death and Diamond. You’re welcome!” Kieran’s wide grin said he knew this was going to piss them both off. The asshole delighted in annoying people.

“But I just got back from the Crossroads,” Tamsin grumbled, clearly not picking up the energy that Kieran was putting out. “Wait—All Hallows’ Eve? Isn’t that tonight ?”

Max blinked like an owl. “Why do I have to go to a party?—?”

Sabrina crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her uncle, her brow furrowed, letting him know just what she thought of his impending argument. “Because you’re invited. And you’re the second-in-command of the House.”

Tamsin gave a short bow, deciding to lay it on thick. “Thank you for thinking of me, my most benevolent majesties. However, I have very important tasks that mean I couldn’t possibly attend with such short notice?—”

“Cut the crap, Tamsin. Your flattery might work with others, but we know you too well for that shit to fly.” Kieran’s smirk got even bigger.

Bastard .

For a brief moment, she wondered what would happen if she turned Kieran into an amphibian of sorts…Maybe a salamander. They were often overlooked in curses.

“Wait—what do you mean we’re both invited?” Max asked.

Sabrina handed a black envelope to the other phantom.

It had a gold wax seal that looked like it had been magicked closed.

Tamsin crowded Max—ignoring the traitorous signals from her body—trying to read the missive over his shoulder.

He opened the envelope and slowly removed a sheet of translucent parchment.

“Way to drag things out,” she muttered.

He ignored her, opening the invitation:

A night of mischief, magic, and mayhem awaits you.

You are cordially invited to the first All Hallows' Eve Ball at Crossroads.

Arrive by the stroke of ten, dressed in your finest enchantments, or forfeit your place.

Masks are optional. Secrets are not.

See you soon, Max Fhearchair.

“Well, it’s only addressed to Max, so—” Tamsin’s voice cut off when Kieran withdrew a similar envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to her wearing a look that could only be compared to that of the cat who ate the canary. There was one guess who the canary was in this situation.

Reluctantly, she opened the seal and envelope. She read the last line once, twice, then thrice.

See you soon, Tamsin Redthorne.

Her fingers tingled as they clutched the strange parchment. Where had the host even gotten translucent paper like this? Who were they? Tamsin wiggled her fingers and transferred the invite to her other hand. Either way, one thing was certain: it had come from someone with fae magic.

“Who’s the host?” Tamsin turned the envelope over in her hands, spotting coordinates printed in gold ink on the back.

“Vaelora. No last name,” Sabrina answered. “We’ve met her before at the Crossroads.”

The name was familiar, but Tamsin couldn’t place it. Which wasn’t unusual, given her ability. There were simply too many names and faces to remember. And the Crossroads had seen an influx of beings since the gate to Tartarus had opened there.

“Yer thinking too hard, lass,” Max’s voice came low and too close.

She bit out a sweet smile and discreetly moved the heel of her boot over his foot and ground down. “How kind of you to notice.”