Page 13 of Season of the Witch (Toil and Trouble #3)

eight

It was well past eight p.m. GMT by the time they escaped Heathrow airport.

According to Siddeley’s directions, he lived in the county of Surrey, presiding over the small town of Westhollow, an hour or so from London.

That was if you didn’t hit traffic from hell, where it took twenty minutes to inch a mile.

When they turned off the “motorway,” as the English called it, and hit countryside, Tia could’ve wept.

All she wanted was a bed, a pillow and a space that didn’t have Henry in it. After almost twelve hours with her ex, she could cheerfully pour a mute potion down his throat.

He talked . All. The. Time. And not only that, he asked questions.

About them, about the company, about her life in Chicago and her friends.

Cheeky bastard even had the nerve to ask about her lovers.

She’d taken great delight in describing one of her sexual encounters, embellishing it so much that had it been real, she would’ve still been walking bowlegged.

Yeah, he’d shut up then.

For about ten minutes.

She’d claimed the driver’s role and even though she was on the wrong side of the road on the wrong side of the car and so tired her eye was twitching, part of her thrilled at being in England.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been out of the country.

She and her friends had talked idly of doing a girls’ trip somewhere but things kept cropping up and then Emma had gotten engaged and now Leah was deep in love with her warlock. Life was just more complicated now.

Pushing aside the uncomfortable emotion that inspired, Tia focused on the road. It curved and dropped abruptly, the only light the beam of her headlights as she concentrated on not testing the car’s capacity for off-roading.

“Goddess,” she muttered, sharply twisting the wheel to the right as another corner leaped out of nowhere. “How is the death rate not higher around here?”

“Maybe they don’t all drive like they’re in Formula One.”

Tia would’ve thrown Henry a glare but she was genuinely concerned she’d crash if she took her eyes off the road. “What can I say?” She cursed as another corner shot up and noticed Henry grab at the oh shit handle above the door. A smirk turned her mouth. “Just eager to get away from you.”

His chuckle in the dark cab raised goose bumps that had no business whispering over her skin.

She checked the navigation, relieved to see their destination was about two minutes away. Her palms were slick on the steering wheel as she slowed her pace, watching for the gates Siddeley had said indicated the entrance of his property.

Henry shifted, his tall body attempting to arrange itself comfortably in the confines of the passenger seat.

Tia might have spelled the seat when he wasn’t looking so it would only move so far back.

Yeah, it had been fucking petty but he was so unbothered by her—and yes , she knew he couldn’t remember why he should be bothered, but it was still exasperating.

Exhausting. Harder than she’d thought to only see humor and interest in eyes that had once burned for her.

She figured she’d earned some petty, especially as he was taking every opportunity to poke at her sore spots. If he wasn’t careful, she’d move from petty to pissed and the hex bags would come out.

Finally, the high beams caught on twinkle lights wrapped around wrought iron. Tia crept up to the gates, lowering her window as she approached the intercom box. It had no buttons on it and she stared dumbly.

“What?” Henry asked, his breath tickling her ear.

She almost leaped out of her skin. “Christ. Back the hell off, Pearlmatter.”

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, ignoring her. Naturally.

He was too close. She could smell him and for someone who’d traveled for half a day, he had no right smelling of citrus and something darkly masculine.

She held herself flush to the seat so they didn’t touch. “There’s no button.”

“Huh.” He leaned even closer to see and she held her breath like a child. “There is,” he said, not sounding at all affected by how his chest was millimeters from hers. “It’s just on the underside.” He rubbed his fingers together, blowing out a breath. “Let’s see if it’s just fire…”

On that somewhat perplexing statement, he flicked those long fingers and twirled his wrist. Something pinged on the box and a crackle sounded.

He aimed a cocky grin her way.

“You’ve always had a talent for pushing buttons,” was all she said before shooing him with a hand. “Back in your seat.”

He stayed where he was, eyes full of mischief. “Am I disturbing you?”

“You’re disturbed in the head,” she shot at him before her brain caught up with her mouth. She winced.

His chin lowered so he could whisper in her ear. “And whose fault is that, Celestia?”

The feel of his hot breath coasting over her skin sent a shiver down to her toes. Thank the good Goddess she didn’t have to come up with a reply as a voice sounded from the box.

“Yes?” A flat British voice drew the word out so it was two syllables.

Tia craned her head out the window, relieved when Henry retreated to his seat. “Tia Hightower and Henry Pearlmatter to see Lord Siddeley. He should be expecting us.”

“Of course. Please follow the drive and park next to the reindeer.”

Tia paused. “The what?”

“The reindeer, my lady.”

Maybe she was even more tired than she thought. But the gates were opening and it made more sense to follow the path than ask for a third time.

She eased through, happy to see the road stretched out with no twisting corners. She tapped her fingers on the wheel, her stomach jumping as lights shone in the distance.

She kept her eyes peeled for any animals willing to play chicken with a car. “Well,” she said after a minute. “See any reindeer?”

“No, dear.”

It took her a moment. “Hilarious.”

She didn’t have to look at him to know his lips would be twitching. Without their past a scar between them, he found it—her—amusing.

It might be worse.

They drove for another thirty seconds. The lights from the manor got brighter as they neared, excessively so considering it was close to midnight thanks to their traffic snarl. Maybe everyone here was a night owl.

They reached the end of the drive where it curved in a circle and she gaped through the windscreen. Her foot slid off the gas pedal, landing on the mat with a thump. The car slowed as it crunched over gravel.

“Holy…” Henry cut himself off with a whistle.

It wasn’t that it was sprawling, a Georgian building almost as tall as it was wide, with a circular drive and central fountain as idyllic as any spa brochure. She’d expected that.

What she hadn’t expected were the Christmas lights. And Christmas mechanical toys. And Christmas trees. And an actual reindeer chilling to the right of the wide stone steps that led up to the front doors.

“Did we take a wrong turn and end up at Santa’s village?” she couldn’t help but ask, belatedly hitting the brake.

“It looks like Christmas threw up,” Henry observed.

Something caught Tia’s eye and she gaped. “Tell me that’s not a camel.”

“How many lights do you think that is? Two thousand?”

“Probably more.” Realizing with some relief that the camel was mechanical, Tia tore her gaze away. “It’s…”

“Intense.”

Out of principle, she couldn’t agree with him, but ho-ho-holy hell. Intense was the word for it.

Christmas lights of all designs—from signs to people to simple twinkle lights—trailed over every inch of the building and grounds.

There were at least three Christmas trees she could see, one large by the fountain and two standing sentry by the doors, all done up perfectly with baubles and tinsel and a giant gold star atop each. The effect was near blinding.

“Is it putting you in the mood?”

She startled, whipping her head to Henry. “ What ?”

“For Christmas.” His oh-so-innocent eyes trailed her face. “What did you think I meant?”

Tia rolled her eyes. “You lose your memories and I gain a comedian. Perfect.” She gripped her door handle and stepped out. She stopped as she crunched something that wasn’t gravel and looked down. A blanket of white spread underneath her.

Her mind reeled. “Snow,” she breathed.

She heard Henry’s footsteps crunch around the car to join her. “Magic, you think?” he asked. Since there’d been no hint of snow anywhere else on the journey, it was the logical assumption.

She nodded, despite herself slightly enchanted with the lights and the snow and even the reindeer, who grunted a greeting.

Honestly, Christmas had been the last thing on her mind, especially since she wouldn’t be spending it with her girls or her family.

Even Leah decorating the bar hadn’t made a dent in her lack of spirit.

But she couldn’t help but feel giddy, like a child, at the exuberance here. The obvious joy in it.

The doors flew open, snapping her out of the Hallmark moment. Noise spilled out as a man dressed in black-and-white filled the gap.

“Don’t tell me,” Henry murmured. “It’s the innkeeper.”

“If I see a barn, I’m out of here.”

“Good evening, Lady Hightower, Lord Pearlmatter.” The man inclined his head, his bearing every inch aristocratic as he gestured for them to approach. “Your bags will be retrieved and stored in your room. Please. Come in.”

Tia jumped when she felt Henry’s hand close around hers. Immediately, she tugged away, hating the trip in her pulse at the familiar touch.

He held firm. “Showtime, Tia,” he said under his breath. “Game face on.”

She grimaced before applying a bright smile. “Just don’t get any ideas, Pearlmatter.”

As she gingerly picked her way through the snow, she pretended not to hear his low, “Too late for that.”

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