Page 16

PIPER

H ollows Lounge is a swanky bar that sells specialty drinks and isn’t so loud that you can’t hear your companions over the music.

The walls are papered in a hunter green with tiny gold birds as embellishments.

Along the perimeter are tufted dark green bench seating, and tables for two that can be assembled into larger configurations.

Paintings of fainting Victorian ladies, in various states of undress, hang over the benches.

The bar is immediately to the right of the entrance and has shelves of liquor on a mirrored wall that reach all the way to the ceiling. There's a sliding ladder that’s used to get the expensive liquor on the top shelves.

Bram, Ava, Josephine, and Stellan left the coven house before the rest of us and managed to snag a table in the corner.

Ambrose escorts me through the crowded bar with his hand on my lower back.

My head is still reeling from everything that just transpired.

Thankfully, the red sparks have disappeared from over our heads.

The shock that I was selected to be part of the trials for a new council still lingers.

Why on earth did the magic pick me? I’ll admit, I’m good at potions.

My father basically called me a kitchen witch because home remedies and mixing things together have always been my specialty.

But I don’t have illusion magic like Ambrose, or shadow magic like Roman and Bram do.

It seems wrong, like I’m not worthy of such an honor.

Then again, my uncle somehow managed to get in on these trials, not to mention Anastasia Lexington, who’s just an all-around awful human being.

A shiver runs down my spine as I think about Tucker’s face when he commanded me and I didn’t obey.

Even with the fear he induced, a spark of glee lights up inside me.

For once, my hex didn’t force me to submit to his demands.

He was so angry. If Ambrose hadn’t been there, I have no doubt Tucker would have beaten me to a pulp, but the pleasure of saying no would almost be worth the pain.

Ava scoots down on the booth and pats the seat next to her. I slide in beside her and Ambrose sticks tight to my side. Sitting in chairs across from us are Roman, Josephine, Odie, and Stellan.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I need you to tell me what this is first.” Ava grabs my hand and stares at the ring on my finger.

We’re interrupted by a server who comes by to take our drink orders.

My nerves are fried and practically jangling under my skin.

I need something strong and order an old fashioned.

Our friends are staring at Ambrose, waiting for him to start the story.

His arm is behind me on the booth, resting with his palm splayed across my back.

It’s oddly intimate. Somehow even more so than his entire side pressed against mine.

And really confusing. I asked a lot of Ambrose when I begged for his help.

To marry me, to have sex with me. Part of me thought he would see it as a joke.

That after we got back from Vegas, we’d go about our separate lives.

Instead, he’s become oddly protective. Not that he wasn’t kind before we got married, but everything has intensified.

“Can you...” I choke out, but Ambrose knows what I want. The geas Tucker put on me is still in place. That means, I can’t talk about my hex with anyone unless they know about it. Once the truth is out in the open, I can speak freely.

“Piper’s father put a hex on her.” Ambrose rips the band-aid right off.

“A different one from the Briar Witch’s curse?” Stellan’s face goes tight with anger.

Ambrose fills them in on the story of this hex. Outrage fills the table when he tells them about the geas Tucker laid on me to keep me from getting help and removing the hex.

“Is that why you’re telling us about this?” Odie signs, looking at Ambrose.

“Until you knew about the geas, I couldn’t speak about any of it.” Now that it’s out in the open, I sigh in relief, a weight off my shoulders. I’ve kept this secret for so long from my friends. “I’m sorry,” I choke, my emotions swelling up and cutting off my words.

Josephine grabs my hand from across the table and squeezes. “I’m sorry we didn’t figure it out.”

“Fitz knew.” Ava stares at me with wide eyes.

I nod. “She did somehow. But I couldn’t say anything without the geas kicking in and causing me pain.”

“That’s really shitty and fucking sucks, but what does this have to do with marrying Ambrose?” Bram looks between the two of us, raising his eyebrows when he notices how closely or pressed together. “Or was that just for fun?”

Ava raises her brows at me as if to say, good job.

“The only way I could be free of the curse was to transfer ownership of the hex to someone else.”

“Did you say ownership?” Odie signs, turning a frosty glare at Ambrose.

Ambrose sinks back into the booth. “I’m just here to help. Don’t blame any of this on me.”

“I gotta say, Piper”—Stellan shakes his head—“I’m a little disappointed that I wasn’t in the running for husband.”

Ambrose’s head snaps around and he glares at Stellan. My cheeks flush and I'm grateful for the server showing back up to drop off our drinks.

“There were parts of the hex transfer that I really couldn’t do with you, Stellan.”

“Like what? I’m a great dancer. I’m handy with a screwdriver.

I’m an excellent grill cheese maker. You need some wood chopped?

I’m your man.” Stellan looks like a lumberjack with his beard and full head of hair.

He tends to wear a lot of plaid and is objectively very handsome, but I just can’t look at him that way.

“I’m not going to talk about this with everyone.” My face is burning, and Josephine makes a surprised sound. Ava gets it a few seconds later, because she snorts and starts to laugh.

“What am I missing?” Stellan looks around the table accusingly, waiting for someone to fill him in.

My head falls into my hands. “Can we please move on.”

Odie signs something to Stellan. Her hands are low under the table, so I can’t see what she’s saying. His mouth goes wide in an oh. He starts to chuckle and then winks at me.

“Nicely done, Piper.”

I groan and down half my drink in one gulp.

“Moving on,” Ambrose says, relaxed again beside me. The smugness practically radiates off of his skin.

I breathe out a gust of alcohol-saturated breath.

“Now that I’m married to Ambrose, I can break the hex.

I couldn’t even talk about it before, no less figure out how to get rid of it, so that’s my short-term goal.

Besides these trials, I guess.” I rub the space between my brows, a tiny ache pulsing there.

I frown and do the math in my head. Dammit. My curse is going to kick in soon.

“Ambrose,” a beautiful woman purrs as she slides between tables to stand in front of Ambrose.

She’s tall and willowy, with perfectly curled shiny brown hair.

Her makeup is straight out of a social media how-to video, and she blinks thick lashes at the man pressed up to my side.

Regardless of how pulled together she looks, there’s a crazed glint in her gaze. It’s unsettling.

He stiffens, and Roman groans across the table. Odie partially rolls her eyes, but she’s trying not to, turning her expression into a grimace.

“Rebecca.”

“It’s been forever.” She leans down to kiss his cheek. I don’t know what comes over me, but I throw up the drink menu between them, nearly giving her face a paper cut.

“Sorry. Were you looking for the menu?” I hold it out to her like an idiot. Ava makes a choking sound, and Odie signs “smooth” across from me. I close my eyes and slink down into my seat.

Rebecca plucks the menu out of my hand and tosses it on the table behind her, which is also full of people. “Excuse me, I’m talking to Ambrose. You apparently have no idea who I am.” She never takes her eyes off him. She’s right. I have no idea who she is.

“Come up to the bar. My friend Tessa and I just opened a bottle of wine. I’m sure you’ll have a much more interesting night with me.” Her eyes drip with disdain as she looks me over.

“That’s a lovely offer, but I’m here with my friends… and my wife.” Ambrose smiles up at the woman.

I just took a sip and practically spit it out all over the table. I manage to control my response, but some of the booze dribbles down my chin.

“Wife?” Rebecca’s voice wobbles, and she finally tears her adoring gaze from Ambrose to look around the table. “Which one of these whores is your wife?” she screeches. Ava leans forward to gape at me, mouthing, “Who the hell does she think she is?”

“You should go back to your friend.” Ambrose lifts his drink and takes a sip, all but ignoring her.

Rebecca’s body is shaking as though she’s been out in freezing temperatures. Her chin wobbles and tears stream down her face. I lean in to whisper to Ambrose. “Is she okay? She doesn’t seem okay.”

“Her? You’re married to her?”

Ambrose stands up, placing his body between us. “Before you say another word, and definitely not one against my wife, you need to get out of my sight. Or I’ll have you kicked out of the bar.”

“Ambrose, no.” Rebecca grabs at his sweater, her cotton candy-pink nails twisting in the fabric. Ambrose nods at someone, but I can’t see who. A few seconds later, the bouncer is peeling Rebecca off Ambrose and hauling her away while she screams his name.

The only sound in the bar for several tense moments is the low drone of music. After nothing else happens, the chatter starts back up. Nervous titters turning into relieved laughter when the woman doesn’t return. Bram, Roman, and Odie all seem unfazed.

“What the hell was that?” Ava whispers, but it’s loud enough for Ambrose to hear.

He doesn’t answer the table, though. Instead, he leans in to speak softly, just for me to hear. “That’s what happens when I kiss someone.”

“You kissed her?” That’s not really important, yet the stab of ugly jealousy that rears up inside me forces the question out.

Ambrose pulls back to look at me, his eyes drifting down to my lips.

I lick them on instinct, feeling parched.

“Back in high school. For a long time, she used to stalk me. We tried to use magic to cleanse her of my curse, but it doesn’t work that way.

” He shrugs. “It was only once and her reaction to me has diluted over time.”

I look over at the exit, where the bouncer is barring Rebecca from coming back inside. If that’s what the curse is when diluted, I’d hate to see it fresh.

Her muffled shouts from outside can still be heard inside the bar. A shiver goes down my spine and I rub my arms. I don’t know if my reaction is because my curse is looming, or because of the desperation that I saw in Rebecca’s eyes.

I toss back the rest of my drink, not missing Ambrose's perceptive gaze.

Josephine reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

What must it be like to have the worry of your curse gone?

For years, Josephine couldn’t touch someone without feeling pain.

Even though her curse wasn’t terminal, like mine will end up being, it was still awful.

To no longer have that pain must be so freeing.

My eyes dart toward the street. I can’t see Rebecca outside but the rabid way she stared at Ambrose lingers in my mind. The universe really found the perfect way to torture each of us.

“We'll help you figure out how to break the hex, Piper,” Josephine promises.

Hope swells that I could be rid of one curse, at least. The one from the Briar Witch isn’t going away and it will kill me someday.