Page 98 of Zomromcom

Because if not, if Sabrina’s enchantments didn’t influence her, she could have lied to Max and Edie and everyone else about everything she’d just told them. And they’d have no way to verify the truth before tomorrow.

Much like Max’s story.

The two of them had probably been twins in a past life. Annoying-as-fuck drama-queen twins who’d tried to eat each other in the womb.

Pressing her forefinger and thumb together, Starla mimed zipping her curved lips.

“Dammit, woman,” Max—who’d apparently worked out the implications too—complained, and Starla giggled.

“So sorry, vampire.” The witch’s voice was saccharine-sweet. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Heharrumphed at the echo of his own words but didn’t bother arguing. At least, not after Edie pressed her breast against his side in a particularly persuasive way.

Gwen levered herself up from her chair and trudged toward the kitchen. As she passed by them, Edie smiled up at her. “Thank you again for your warning about my blackberry-sage oil.”

The oracle stopped, and her loose red braid swished along her back as she shook her head. “I appreciate your kindness, butwe both know my prophesies were next to useless. They always are.”

“I’m not just being nice.” She truly wasn’t. “You saved me a bunch of time and money and hassle, and I’m genuinely grateful.”

Max shifted beside her. “As am I. Once spilled, glitter is a relentless adversary.”

“Then why use it?” Edie asked him, befuddled. “No one’s forcing you to.”

“Because my sculpted features deserve to be highlighted in every way possible.” His elegant nostrils flared as he sniffed. “Obviously.”

Of course. She should have known.

Gwen’s amused snort sounded a little damp. “If I helped you, I’m glad. But I still owe everyone in this house an apology. Our lives are at stake tomorrow. I can’t fight worth a damn. And even though I’m a freaking oracle, my most helpful prophetic guidance tonight involved wayward craft supplies. For all our sakes, I wish to goodness I were much more Enhanced than I am.”

Edie’s heart ached for her. Before she could find the right words to comfort Gwen, though, Max spoke quietly.

“You made my life easier, little oracle.” There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or glib charm in his words. Only truth and compassion. “In my centuries upon this Earth, very few others have done the same. That’s not such a small thing.”

“Thank you.” Gwen inclined her head in acknowledgment, green eyes shining a little too brightly, then offered them both a small but genuine-looking smile before beelining toward the snacks.

“Hey. Vamp bro.” Kip shuffled over to their couch on his knees. “You must have been worried about Sabby tamperingwith our food too, right? Did you squirrel away anything else? Because I’d gladly take leftovers off your…”

His face scrunched up, and he halted abruptly. Stretching an absurdly long leg out before him, he considered the wet spot on the knee of his jeans.

“Good news!” he called out, twisting around to address everyone in the room. “I solved the mystery of the missing cider! And Sabby, your new carpet is super great at hiding stains, as I now realize! Good call on the color!”

“It was Starla’s choice.” Sabrina’s head tilted. “And…congratulations?”

The troll beamed. “Thanks, bro!”

“No leftovers,” Max told him, then added a patently insincere “Apologies.”

“That’s disappointing. However…” Kip eyed the compact love seat where he and his cousin had been sitting, then the more expansive dimensions of the sofa directly in front of him. “Maxime. My good buddy.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“Someone’s gonna have to sleep on the floor.” The troll’s sweeping gesture indicated the patch of sodden carpet. “And he who makes the wet spot takes the wet spot, so…”

Max’s tone conveyed polite confusion. “Is that your ill-chosen way of asking us to move off the couch? So you can sleep here tonight?”

Kip’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not happening, is it?”

“Nope.” Max leaned forward and gave him a hearty thump on the back, much like the one the troll had given him upon their introduction. So hearty, in fact, that Kip was basically flung face-first into the sofa. “Nice try, though.”