Page 23 of Kiss for My Kraken (Fairhaven Falls #8)

E normous purple spiders hung suspended from the Moonlight Tavern’s rafters, their fuzzy legs gently swaying in the draft.

Nina balanced on a step ladder, carefully attaching the last leg with fishing wire.

It was a precarious position, but worth it for the effect—especially since these particular spiders occasionally twitched on their own, thanks to a spell Annabelle had cast on them.

“Perfect!” Annabelle called from below, her blue wings fluttering with excitement. “When the lights dim, they’ll practically come alive.”

Nina climbed down, surveying their handiwork.

The tavern had undergone a remarkable transformation over the past few days.

Orange and purple fairy lights twined around every beam.

Cobwebs draped from corners, embedded with tiny crystals that caught the light.

Carved pumpkins with eerily realistic faces lined the bar, courtesy of George, who’d apparently learned pumpkin sculpting from “a genuine goblin artisan.”

“I still can’t believe Ben approved all this,” Nina said, running her hand along a pumpkin whose expression shifted subtly as she touched it.

Annabelle’s laugh tinkled like wind chimes. “Approved? Hon, this was his idea. Behind all that grumpiness, our bunny boss is Fairhaven’s biggest Halloween enthusiast. Unlike Easter,” she whispered. “He goes into hiding then.”

As if summoned by his name, Ben emerged from the kitchen, tall ears twitching with irritation as he surveyed the room.

“The bats are crooked,” he declared, gesturing to the paper cutouts suspended from the ceiling. “And there aren’t nearly enough skulls on the back shelves.”

“On it, boss!” Annabelle chirped, floating upward to adjust the bats.

Nina bit back a smile. Beneath his critical tone, she caught the gleam of satisfaction in Ben’s eyes. For all his complaints, he was clearly pleased with the tavern’s transformation.

“Kitchen’s yours for the rest of the day,” he told her, his voice returning to its usual gruff cadence. “Festival committee meeting approved your menu, so get baking.” He paused, then added with obvious reluctance, “And… good job with the spiders.”

Coming from Ben, it was practically a sonnet of praise. She felt a warm glow of pride as she headed to the kitchen, her sanctuary. The past three days had been a whirlwind of festival preparations, and she’d thrown herself into the work with desperate enthusiasm, grateful for the distraction.

The kitchen welcomed her with familiar smells—yeast, sugar, spices.

She pulled her recipe notebook from her bag, flipping to the pages she’d carefully prepared for the festival.

Pumpkin bread with maple glaze. Apple cider donuts.

Spiced cookies shaped like autumn leaves.

And her personal addition: cornbread cut into stars and moons, glazed with honey butter.

She tied on her apron and began gathering ingredients, the routine motions calming her jittery nerves.

Measure, mix, knead. The steady rhythm of baking had always been her refuge, even back in Haven’s Grace.

Of course, back then, she’d baked in the communal kitchen under Elder Matthias’s wife’s watchful eye, her recipes limited to the plain, unadorned foods deemed appropriate by the community.

Here in Fairhaven Falls, she could add cinnamon and nutmeg, drizzle maple syrup, create shapes that had nothing to do with practicality and everything to do with joy.

If only joy were enough to keep fear at bay .

The thought crept in unbidden, her hands faltering briefly as she measured flour.

She shook it off, focusing on the recipe, but the undercurrent of anxiety remained.

It had been three days since she’d spotted The Chosen in the town square.

Three days of jumping at shadows, of scanning every face for Jed’s stern features, of sleeping fitfully even in the safety of Sam’s cabin on the island.

“Knock knock!” Molly’s cheerful voice broke into her thoughts. The vampire server poked her head through the kitchen door, her normally pale face flushed from feeding. “Hungry helpers have arrived!”

Elara followed behind her, her smile equally warm. Elara had quickly become one of Nina’s favorite people in town—kind and cheerful, with a wicked sense of humor.

“We heard there were cookies to be decorated,” Elara said, already rolling up her sleeves.

“And possibly samples to be taste-tested,” Molly added hopefully.

A genuine smile spread across her face. “Perfect timing. I could use the help.”

For the next few hours, the kitchen became a haven of productive chaos.

Molly proved surprisingly adept at decorating, her vampire dexterity allowing for intricate patterns on the leaf cookies.

Elara took charge of the donut glazing, while Nina focused on the baking itself, rotating pans in and out of the ovens.

“So,” Molly said as she piped delicate veins onto a maple leaf cookie, “are you coming to the festival as yourself, or are you dressing up?”

“Myself?” She paused, flour dusting her hands.

“It’s tradition here,” Elara explained, dipping another donut into the cinnamon glaze. “Humans dress up as something else, while Others often show their true forms. It’s the one night when everyone can be exactly who they are.”

“Or who they wish they were,” Molly added with a wink. “Last year, Annabelle came as a penguin. Said she wanted to know what it felt like to be ‘adorably earthbound’ for a night.”

She laughed at the image, then considered the question. “I hadn’t really thought about a costume.”

The truth was she’d been too preoccupied with thoughts of Jed to consider festival attire. The idea of dressing up, of drawing attention to herself, made her stomach clench with anxiety.

“You could come as a chef,” Elara suggested, noting her hesitation. “It’s simple, and you’ve already got the uniform.”

“Or,” Molly interjected gleefully, “you could dress as a sexy kraken and drive a certain river dweller absolutely wild.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Though she hadn’t explicitly told anyone about Sam, it seemed the entire town had somehow figured out their relationship. Fairhaven Falls might be accepting of Others, but its rumor mill still operated with supernatural efficiency.

“I think I’ll stick with the chef idea,” she mumbled, focusing intently on the dough she was kneading.

“Shame,” Molly sighed dramatically. “Though I hear Sam is actually planning to attend this year. That’s bound to cause a stir—he’s practically a town legend at this point.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He had mentioned attending the festival, but she hadn’t been sure if he’d follow through. The thought of him willingly entering such a crowded, public space, just to be near her…

“Is that true?” Elara asked gently. “Sam’s coming to the festival?”

She nodded, unable to suppress a small smile despite her anxiety. “He said he would.”

“Well then,” Elara said, exchanging a knowing glance with Molly, “chef costume it is. Though perhaps with a little river-blue accessory or two?”

By the time the baking was complete, trays of cookies, breads, and donuts covered every available surface. She gave their work a satisfied look, momentarily forgetting her worries in the face of such a tangible accomplishment.

“These are gorgeous,” she said, admiring Molly’s detailed decorations.

“Lots of practice,” Molly replied, wiping icing from her fingers. “You should have seen my first attempts—absolutely horrifying, and not in the good vampire way.”

The kitchen door swung open, and Ben appeared, ears perked forward as he sniffed appreciatively.

“Not bad,” he declared after inspecting the treats, which from him was equivalent to ecstatic praise. “Pack them up and put them in the cooler. We’ll take them over early Saturday morning.”

As Elara and Molly began carefully boxing the baked goods, Ben beckoned her to one side.

“Take a break,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You’ve been working since dawn.”

“I’m fine,” she protested, though her aching feet suggested otherwise.

Ben’s nose twitched with annoyance. “Wasn’t a suggestion. Go get some air. And take this.” He pressed a small object into her palm—a special whistle that carried for miles. “Just in case.”

The gesture, gruff yet undeniably concerned, touched her. “Thank you, Ben.”

Outside, the crisp October air filled her lungs, carrying the scents of fallen leaves and woodsmoke.

Main Street had been transformed for the festival, with orange and black banners strung between lampposts and shop windows displaying elaborate Halloween scenes.

Townspeople hurried back and forth, carrying decorations and supplies, talking excitedly.

She wandered towards the town square, where most of the festival would take place.

Even though there was still a day and a half to go, workers were already setting up booths and stages, their cheerful banter floating across the space.

Despite her lingering anxiety, she felt a tug of genuine excitement.

This would be her first real Halloween celebration—The Chosen had forbidden the “pagan holiday” entirely and she’d been sick the previous year.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” a familiar voice asked, and she jumped at Flora seemed to materialize from nowhere, as usual. She was in orange today, a jack-o’-lantern with glowing eyes adorning her shirt.

“It’s wonderful,” she agreed, watching as a group of children—a mix of humans and clearly non-human Others—practiced a dance routine on the central platform. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Of course you haven’t, dear,” Flora said matter-of-factly. “That’s why you’re here now.”

Before she could parse this cryptic statement, Flora continued, “I hear our Sam is coming to the festival this year. “

She gave the old woman a startled glance. “How did you?—”

“Know?” Flora cackled. “Oh, child. I know everything that happens in this town.” Her eyes twinkled. “He’s breaking old patterns for you. That’s significant.”

“Is it?” she asked softly, her heart warming at the thought.

“Of course. Creatures of habit, krakens. Once they establish a territory and routine, they rarely deviate. For him to willingly enter a crowded space…” She trailed off, giving Nina a significant look.

“He’s worried about me,” she explained, her voice dropping. “Because of Jed and the others.”

“Ah, yes. And speaking of unwelcome visitors…”

Nina followed her gaze and froze. A man in a plain, dark jacket stood at the edge of the square, watching the festival preparations with visible distaste. Though she couldn’t see his face clearly from this distance, something about his stiff posture sent ice through her veins.

“Is that—?” she began, her voice catching.

“Yep. He’s one of them. They’ve been circling for the past few days, watching, asking questions. Trying to find you. Not that anyone will tell them anything, but they are persistent little weasels. I’ve a good mind to call in Gladys.”

“Gladys?” She frowned at Flora, but the old woman only shook her head.

“Never mind. I’m afraid this is something you will need to face. Just remember that the town is behind you.”

Flora skipped off into the crowd, leaving Nina rooted to the spot, her earlier enjoyment evaporated. The festival preparations suddenly seemed too bright, too loud, the cheerful bustle at odds with the cold dread spreading through her.

They’re here. They’re really here.

She needed to get back to the tavern, to the safety of its familiar walls. As she turned to go, a van pulled up at the edge of the square—a large, dark van with out-of-state plates. The same type of vehicle the Elders used for official Haven’s Grace business.

Her heart plummeted. She ducked behind a nearby booth, peering out cautiously as the van’s door opened.

A tall, lean figure emerged, and even from behind, she recognized him instantly—the rigid posture, the severe haircut, the way he held himself as if perpetually braced against sin.

Jedediah.

Panic closed her throat. She pressed herself against the booth, praying he wouldn’t turn in her direction. I need to get out of here. Now.

With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Ben: Emergency. Have to leave. Sorry.

Then, keeping her head down, she slipped between booths and decorations, taking the long way around the square to avoid Jed’s line of sight. Her heart hammered against her ribs, blood rushing in her ears.

Once clear of the square, she broke into a run, not towards the tavern but towards the river. Towards Sam. Towards safety.