He freaking forgot!

  That was certainly something. Of course, he was a vampire, so it probably went without saying that a year didn’t mean that much to him. It was probably more like a drop in a bucket of water. It was possible that Lorcan just didn’t bother worrying about silly things like birthdays and anniversaries. Goddess knew that after being ‘alive’ a few centuries, yearly landmarks weren’t quite what they might otherwise be.

  But I hadn’t expected him to forget. Not something important about the two of us.

  Lorcan was so busy kissing his way down my sternum, that he didn’t notice the fact that I was so lost in my own thoughts. And those thoughts were busily trying to decide if this might actually be a blessing in disguise? I mean—I was going to plan the best anniversary date ever. In the history of dating. It was going to be amazing, and Lorcan would be blown away. And then, I’d be able to rub it in his face that he’d forgotten and I could just imagine all the ways he’d try to make up for it.

  I could probably buy whatever I wanted for the next year. Maybe even longer.

  Oh, this was going to be fun.

  I tugged Lorcan back up to me with a laugh and kissed him with everything I had.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hallowed Homes was the only real estate agency in Haven Hollow.

  But they weren’t just any run of the mill agency. No human house hunter was ever going to cut it in the Hollow. Fifi, who’d taken over when I’d turned her hag of an ex-boss into a stone lawn ornament, prided herself on finding the right home for her clients, no matter how odd or difficult their needs might be.

  Part of selling homes to monsters included having late office hours—for the folks who worked daytime shifts and the folks who couldn’t be out during daylight hours. So, it was no surprise to find that the realty office was open this late at night.

  As to the office, it was a study in class—lots of chrome and black leather, but it was done in a way that looked clean and modern without making anyone feel like they were in a hospital.

  By the time I walked through the doors, most of the staff had already left for the day, but the door to Fifi’s office was still open. I could see her sitting at her desk, looking over some paperwork, pen in hand. Relieved to find her still here, I crossed the lobby and walked into her office, throwing myself down into one of the guest chairs across from her.

  She looked up, surprise on her face because it wasn’t as though I’d made an appointment or anything.

  “Wanda?” she asked.

  “I need some advice.”

  Fifi just looked at me for a moment, her large eyes going even larger with her apparent shock. Yes, it wasn’t a usual occasion that I asked anyone for help and apparently that fact was a widespread one. Rose tinted Fifi’s cheeks, and her lips worked soundlessly. Her gaze flicked from me to the chair beside me. I turned to see a woman was seated there and one I hadn’t seen when I’d first spotted Fifi. Hmm, well this was now a little embarrassing.

  The woman was short, middle aged, with wide golden eyes and the kind of red hair that normally came out of a bottle. And she appeared to be as surprised at my intrusion as was Fifi.

  “I’d be happy to talk to you later,” Fifi cleared her throat, tapping her papers against the desk.

  “I can’t wait for later.”

  Fifi looked uncomfortable. “Um, Wanda, I’m with a client.”

  I pasted my most sincere smile on my face, then leaned towards the woman next to me. “This will only take a minute.”

  Fifi’s eyes somehow grew even wider when I turned back to face her. “Advice. I need it. And the sooner you give it to me, Fifi, the faster I’ll be out of here.”

  A little wrinkle formed between Fifi’s silver white brows, her eyes darting between me and her client. I could see her fighting with herself—professionalism going to war with the fact that she knew if I was asking for advice than the situation certainly warranted it. Maybe it might have even appeared to be some sort of emergency. Well, good—let it. Urgency was good at a time like this.

  Finally, Fifi’s shoulders deflated as she realized it really would be the path of least resistance to simply answer my question and then send me on my merry way. The smile she shot to her client was just a little anemic when she said, “I’m so sorry. This will only take a second and… well, it appears to be an emergency.”

  There was a warning in Fifi’s blue eyes when she turned them back to me. She might have been a nice person, one who actively fought against her succubus side, but she was still a demon, and not someone to be interrupted or forced into any uncomfortable situations.

  “Thanks, darling,” I said to the woman as she stood up and giving me a quick frown, marched her stout little self into the waiting room.

  “What is it, Wanda?” Fifi asked, once the woman excused herself.

  I slung one leg over the other, letting my Louboutin boot bob in the air. “What’s an idea for an utterly fantastic anniversary date?” I paused. “I mean the best date you can think of—something to rival all amazing dates in the history of amazing dates.”

  It was clear that, of all the things Fifi was expecting me to ask, this wasn’t it. She blinked at me, looking bewildered.

  “Oooh.”

  I turned around to find the strange woman who had been sitting next to me now poking her head back through the doorway, her eyes alight as she faced me. The gold of her eyes was luminous, like stained glass with a candle behind it. “A romantic anniversary, or a celebration of a significant event?”

  I hadn’t been expecting her to return to the room, much less to chime in, but then I figured maybe this was a case of the more, the merrier. My brows pinched together as I wrinkled my nose and faced her. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” the woman and Fifi said in unison, with varying levels of disbelief.

  “Fine,” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into my chair. Then I eyed the vacant chair next to me and motioned for the woman to resume her seat. Once she did so, I faced them both. “A romantic anniversary.”

  Fifi smiled, her face softening as the surprise of my visit gave way to amusement over the question I was asking. Clearly, she knew how difficult this was on me. “Well, normally, meals are traditional, Wanda,” she started.

  “Phooey,” I answered, waving my hand at her.

  “Well, don’t discount a romantic meal so fast,” Fifi insisted. “Something private and romantic when you could… you know, feed each other maybe?”

  “That is romantic,” the woman nodded.

  “Especially if the food is something you prepared yourself—what a nice way to show Lorcan you care.” Fifi paused and then frowned. “We are talking about Lorcan, right?”

  I frowned at her. “Of course.”

  She smiled. “With you, I can never be sure.”

  “Back to the subject,” I said, rolling my hand in the air.

  “Right,” Fifi continued on a nod. “A romantic dinner—”

  I sighed. Like I hadn’t already done a search online and ‘romantic dinner’ was the first thing that had popped up. That was the problem, most of the traditional things weren’t going to work for Lorcan and me. No meals, no romantic sunsets, unless I wanted to end my anniversary a widow. Sex, sure, was almost a given, but how to make it special?

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work,” I said.

  Fifi frowned, her lips making a little moue. “Okay.”

  “Why not?” The red-haired stranger was now leaning over the arm of her chair, looking between Fifi and me. “You can’t cook? Or is one of you on a restricted diet?”

  “I’m sorry, who exactly are you?” I asked cooly. “This isn’t really a three-person conversation.”

  “I mean, you did walk into my appointment and interrupt,” the woman pointed out, and I had to shrug because she did have a point. “To answer your question, I’m Arcadia, but people call me Cady. And sorry to butt in, but I’m invested now.”

  I glared at her for another second or so before relenting, because she was right—I had butted in on her appointment. “My partner doesn’t… well, he doesn’t eat.”

  Cady flicked a glance at Fifi, who very clearly mouthed ‘vampire’ back at her. Then Cady nodded as if Lorcan being a vampire was what she’d surmised. I’d suspected that Arcadia was a supernatural, owing to the aura of magic that was radiating off her, but her lack of surprise over Lorcan being a vampire now confirmed it.

  Cady nodded. “Ah. Yes, dinner isn’t going to work then.”

  “Something you should have remembered, Fifi,” I said and then tsked tsked her as she gave me an apologetic smile.

  “Well, honestly, I’d say to tailor the date to your partner’s likes,” Cady continued, “if you really want to wow him.” She paused. “It is a ‘him’ we’re talking about?”

  I frowned. “Of course.”

  She shrugged with a laugh. “Hey, you can never be too sure.”

  “Anyway,” I started.

  “Anyway,” Cady continued. “What is your man passionate about?”

  Fifi nodded, smiling brightly. “Yes, just think of something Lorcan might like to do.”

  My foot bobbed angrily in the air. I knew things Lorcan liked, of course, but none of them really seemed like something that would turn into a good date. Well, he liked me, and I was going to be there, so that was a win, at least. But still, it was so vague.

  “Ugh.” I slumped further into the chair, sliding down the seat. “Why is this so difficult?”

  “You’re probably overthinking it,” Cady responded with a smile that was far too close to sympathetic for my ego. “But it’s clear you really care about this man.”

  I leveled a glare at her. “Bold of you to assume I care about anything.”

  She laughed, and I tried not to bristle up like Hellcat.

  “I wouldn’t imagine that you would normally go to this much effort for a man you’re tepid about, but okay, sure, plausible deniability.” Cady flipped her hand palm up.

  I sat there, fuming for a second. There was no way to respond that didn’t just confirm what she’d said was true, and there was no way I was doing that. Fully backed into the corner, I stood up from the chair.

  “Yes, well, thank you, I suppose. Good luck with,” I flicked a finger between them. “Whatever your meeting was about.”

  “Oh, um, bye Wanda,” Fifi stammered as I strode out of the room and headed for the door.

  It was clear now.

  I was going to need to bring out the big guns.

  ***

  I leaned around the corner to press my face against the front window of Poppy’s Potions.

  I still didn’t have a single idea for a stupid anniversary date, and the coven, Fifi, and the random stranger in her office, hadn’t been helpful. The internet hadn’t either, and somehow, no one seemed to have written a book on the subject, so here I was, peering into Poppy’s store like a weirdo. But there was no way I was going to walk in on her being nauseatingly cute with her soulmate.

  A steady, chilly rain had set in as I was leaving the parking lot of Hallowed Homes, with iron dull clouds crowding the sky. Not even a sliver of moonlight or stars made it through the clouds that hung low and swollen overhead. The only good thing about the crappy weather was that it kept the foot traffic on Main Street away. Now, there was only one customer browsing the shelves inside Poppy’s store, while Poppy stood near the heavy dark wood counter that served as the front counter. The surface of the counter was covered with a huge, ancient, brass cash register that I’d argued was too antiquated plenty of times. As I crossed Main Street, I noticed Poppy had some paperwork out that she was puttering with while she chewed on the end of a pen.

  I took one last glance, making sure no extra customers were going to pop out from between the heavy shelves, and made my way to the door. The bell overhead rang as I stepped inside and stomped my boots on the rug to try to shake loose the worst of the rain. At the sound of the bell, Poppy’s blonde head shot up and her customer service smile, if anything, got a bit wider.

  “Wanda, hi!”

  “Hi.”

  I never understood how she was so happy all the time.

  “Need anything in particular?” she practically sang.

  In deference to the chilly weather outside, Poppy had worn a long sweater and tights to work. And while the soft lavender color did look good with her fair skin and hair, I still had to shake my head. She couldn’t have looked more like a middle-aged mom if she’d put on a sign proclaiming her to be just that.

  “When are you going to let me dress you?” I asked, shaking my head. “This soft bake sale chic is alright, but really, I think we can do better.”

  Poppy’s smile turned soft, because of course it did—that was just how she was. Always smiling, always happy to see you. If she weren’t my best friend, I’d probably choke on the cloying sweetness that was her personality. “I have all the dresses you made me, silly.”

  “So, why aren’t you wearing any of them?”

  She shrugged. “I save them for special occasions. Besides, I don’t want to wear anything too nice when I’m brewing potions or cleaning shelves.”

  And there I was, hoping that having a new beau would have gotten her a little more interested in dressing to impress. Well, at least she wasn’t still with Marty—that man thought sweatpants were couture.

  I waved her off. This was a long-standing argument and it wasn’t likely to get solved today. Besides, I had a more pressing issue. “Never mind all that.”

  “Okay.”

  “I actually came to see you… well, because I wanted… some advice.”

  “You want advice?” Poppy questioned, eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.

  “Yes.”

  “From me?”

  “I asked you, didn’t I?” Damn—why was this so hard?

  “Well, I mean… yeah, I guess you did. But I’m just… well, I’m not used to you asking for advice, Wanda. It’s very much—out of your character. Are you feeling alright?”

  I glared at her, dropping my hands to my hips as my left eyebrow arched of its own accord. “I’m feeling just fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I threw my hands up into the air. “Yes, I’m sure!”

  Poppy held up her hands then, shaking her head until the braid she’d pulled her hair back into slid over her shoulder. “I didn’t mean anything by asking,” she said on a laugh. “I’m just surprised you’re asking for advice. From me, I mean,” she added hastily.

  “Yes, well.” I tossed my hair back over my shoulder, keeping a blush off my face through sheer force of will. “This… subject… isn’t… well, it’s not something I’d normally ask for advice about.”

  “Oh?”

  “No—it’s a… well, a ridiculously sappy situation.”

  “Sappy?”

  I nodded. “Like if a Hallmark movie threw up a greeting card. So, naturally, I came to you.”

  Poppy, in true BFF fashion, read between the lines and didn’t take any offence. Instead, she smiled a little too softly for my liking. “Well, I’m always happy to be your outsourced emotional center. What’s up?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Is Finn here?” I asked, stalling.

  Now that the moment was at hand, I was finding it harder to just come out and ask Poppy for help. I knew she would help me, of course. Furthermore, Poppy wasn’t physically capable of mocking anyone, but even after repeated attempts, talking about this sort of thing still felt like baring my soft underbelly to someone wielding a very sharp blade.

  Poppy shook her head. “No. He’s with some friends—one of his classmates is having kind of a rough time with school, so Finn’s trying to help.”

  Never one for hiding her emotions, Poppy’s expression was as clear as glass. I could see the pride she had for her son. But there was more there than just pride—there was worry too. While I knew Poppy was happy that her son was shaping up to be every bit the do-gooder that his mother was, it wasn’t all smiles and rainbows.

  Working with Andre seemed to be helping him, but Finn’s ability for magic was fast outstripping his body’s capability. The fact was, the magic was draining Finn, leaving him exhausted and even unconscious if he wasn’t careful to pace himself properly. And Poppy, who was normally all for doing the right thing—like kissing babies, escorting old ladies across the street, whatever it was nice people did, Finn was still only fifteen. And Poppy was so chock full of maternal instinct that she was incapable of not fussing over him.

  She was trying to rein it in, though, so good for her. Finn was a teenager, and being nagged by your mother did have an expiration on effectiveness, so best to save it for when the subject in question was really important.

  But Finn not being here at the moment was a good thing, as far as I was concerned. Why? Because it meant there weren’t any eavesdropping ears in the backroom—eavesdropping ears that might play witness to one of my more embarrassing moments. I didn’t need anything getting back to Lorcan, or Maverick, or Goddess forbid, Astrid. I’d never hear the end of it.

  The only other customer in the store, a middle-aged woman in a dark blue raincoat with an obnoxiously yellow umbrella folded and hung over her arm, had drifted a little too close to the register area. Suspiciously close. Close enough to overhear embarrassing conversations between besties.

  I glared at her silently, but she didn’t make any motion to take a hike. No, she was obviously very interested in the money fortune candle that Poppy had displayed on a nearby shelf. I had to admit, the little flecks of gold foil folded through the creamy wax of the candle was an eye-catching touch.

  Eventually the dope must have felt my eyes on her, because she glanced up, saw my expression, and blanched before ducking down the next aisle and out of hearing range. Poppy gave me a disappointed look, but I was too satisfied to let it get to me. Of course, once I had Poppy’s undivided attention, and all the nosy eavesdroppers had finally shoved off, I was suddenly feeling an emotion that my own pride absolutely refused to recognize as embarrassment. The flush slowly climbing into my face was frustration based, obviously. I cleared my throat to buy myself some time, while Poppy’s expression grew steadily more concerned.