Maverick planted his cane in the soft earth and faced me for the first time since we’d stepped foot on Scraggly Scarecrow’s Orchard and Pumpkin Patch. As to the orchard’s namesake, Scraggly Scarecrow, he was attached to the top of a wooden stake at the mouth of the corn maze, where he could oversee the comings and goings of all his Halloween revelers from ten feet above.

  And, no, Maverick didn’t need the cane to walk—in fact, I wasn’t sure what he was doing with it.

  “There are people everywhere because this orchard is open to the public, and it’s two days until Halloween,” I ventured, not entirely able to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

  Two days until Samhain and you still haven’t gotten a gift for Wanda! I reminded myself as a flurry of panic settled in my stomach.

  “And what’s with that cane?” I asked, hiking our apple basket up on one arm.

  “It’s a sword cane.”

  “Well, you look pretentious as hell… not to mention, ridiculous.”

  “Let’s see if you’d say the same if we’re suddenly attacked by a ravenous werewolf or the like.”

  “A ravenous werewolf?” I asked on a laugh as I turned around and took in the numerous children and the parents who were overseeing them.

  “I must admit, it makes my skin crawl to be surrounded by so many mundanes,” Maverick said, frowning as his furry eyebrows drew together in obvious disgust.

  As far as looks went, we didn’t really favor each other. Maverick was a head taller than Celestine, who was about the tallest witch I knew. Even after my last growth spurt, I wasn’t as tall as Wanda. But, back to Maverick, he also wasn’t redheaded. No, his hair was so dark, it absorbed light like a crow’s feather. He kept his shoulder-length hair restrained into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and it all but blended with his black wool overcoat.

  According to Tabitha, Maverick had grown his hair out when he was a child (and worn dresses) so he wouldn’t appear out of place with all the little witches running around. Basically, he’d tried to pass as a girl, afraid of being turned out of the coven and offered to the foster system of the mundanes. His little sham might have worked for a little while, but then he hit puberty and after that, there was no mistaking him for a girl. His shoulders were too broad, and he was way too tall. Not to mention, Maverick had the most prominent and obvious adam’s apple I’d ever seen. Maverick took after his father, who had been overly tall and lean—I always thought with Maverick’s dark hair and his long, skinny body, he resembled a shadow more than he did the person attached to it. All in all, Maverick was good-looking—at least according to the women of our coven, before he’d been kicked out for being a warlock, that is.

  Only our eyes were identical. Gray, with a ring of black around the iris.

  I glanced back at the eight-year-olds. The brunette with the pigtails threw herself into the arms of a short, dark-haired man. He had the soft plumpness around his middle that seemed to develop during the first decade of a happy marriage. A blonde woman smiled indulgently as the girl tried to heave the pumpkin up for their inspection.

  “Anyway, take some advice from me and lose the cane—with your hair pulled back like that and your long black coat, you look like some weirdo, goth, emo dude.”

  Maverick’s eyes narrowed further, and I was fairly sure he had no idea what I was talking about. Maverick wasn’t really up on the times, especially the mundane times. But, he also wouldn’t ask because he didn’t like appearing uninformed.

  “I can drive you back to the boundary line, you know.” By ‘boundary line’, he meant the exact point where Haven Hollow began and Riverport ended. “It’s a little cold to hitchhike to Wanda’s house, but I’m sure you could manage.”

  “Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I frowned at him. “And since when did you develop such thin skin?”

  His frown deepened. “I’m only engaging in these Hallow’s Eve festivities because you sounded so pathetic on the phone.”

  “You’re such a bastard,” I answered as I shook my head and laughed. “Some things never change.” Still, I picked up the pace, trudging up the hill toward the apple orchard.

  The scent of honeycrisp apples perfumed the air, and a pang of homesickness twisted my stomach. I’d never admit it out loud, but I missed home so much, it hurt sometimes. And, again, it wasn’t Tabitha or Celestine I missed. It was being part of a bigger whole—belonging to something.

  Being out with Maverick was enjoyable, despite his bad attitude, but I’d have traded just about anything to be home with the coven for Samhain. Right about this time, the apples would be turning a deep, delicious red and my fingers itched to inspect them for any imperfections before twisting the ripe fruits off their branches. Autumn faeries liked their apples free of blemishes.

  Maverick chose not to comment, either because he knew I was right or because reciprocal name-calling was beneath his dignity as a warlock. I was betting on the former. Instead he looked over at me and asked, “So, how are things in the Hollow?”

  “Strange,” I answered with a shrug. “Though that’s not really a surprise, is it? It’s a Hollow.”

  “And Wanda?”

  I smirked. Finally, the real reason for his visit. I wouldn’t have been surprised if my brother’s crush on Wanda was still in full swing. Honestly, he hadn’t had a chance to win her love before Wanda became a Blood Witch, and now his chances with her were dead and gone, owing to the fact that she hated him. But, even if Wanda hadn’t hated Maverick, I still didn’t think he would’ve had a chance with her, because there was another man, er vampire, in the picture...

  Chapter Three

  While Wanda might have been vocal about her dislike of Lorcan Rowe, the vampire who’d blooded her, no one but the pair of them bought it.

  And, at this point, I wasn’t even sure they bought it anymore. I mean, the air between them vibrated with this crazy tension every time they were within fifty feet of each other—it was like watching some sappy romance movie playing out right before your eyes. Currently, we were at the part in the movie when the witch pretended she wasn’t into the vampire but deep down, she was and then some. Poppy and I agreed that the two of them should’ve just given up whatever game they were playing and make it official.

  As to Lorcan, I hadn’t been sure how to feel about him at first, because he was a vampire and also the reason Wanda was a Blood Witch. Of course, it could have been argued that he’d also saved her life, but the witches from the coven had conveniently decided to ignore that part. As one of them, I’d been taught to hate vampires for being exactly that—undead abominations. And, when I’d first come to Haven Hollow, I hadn’t liked Lorcan. Not at all.

  Of course, I’d always thought he was hot. Like really hot—movie-star hot (he kind of reminded me of the Witcher, lookswise) and his Irish accent didn’t hurt in the sexy department. But, regardless, he was still a vampire and that was a big deal. Being a vampire was a serious downside, and probably the only reason Wanda hadn’t jumped his bones already. Still, Lorcan’s insistence that he wouldn’t turn her into a fully blooded vampire (and take back his ‘Kiss’) without her permission was something—a definite tick in his ‘pros’ column.

  Ultimately, for a vampire, Lorcan wasn’t that bad. And, coming from a witch, that was saying something. Furthermore, if the two of them weren’t able to reverse the curse and Wanda decided to become a fully-fledged vampire, I could live with that. When it came down to it, I’d rather have Wanda around than have her six feet under, even if she grew fangs and wanted to drink blood, as nasty as that sounded.

  “Wanda’s fine,” I said, watching as Maverick’s jaw clenched.

  “Is her business doing well?” he asked, but there was something in his expression that hinted to the fact that he was uncomfortable with this conversation. Clearly, he was still harboring feelings for Wanda and by the looks of it, those feelings were a cross between love and hate.

  I raised an eyebrow at him, frowning. “Why do you care? You tried to sabotage her.”

  “Right and I have lived to regret that decision.”

  I looked at him and frowned. Maverick and ‘regret’ had no business being in the same sentence. “Really?”

  He nodded. “In having numerous hours left to my own thoughts, I’ve come to see the error in my ways.”

  “You have?”

  “I tried to force Wanda into loving me and such is an impossibility. I should have come to her with my proverbial tail between my legs and appealed to her from a much more… subordinate stance. Then she would not have viewed me as a threat and perhaps I could have won her love.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but decided not to say anything. Maverick could continue to think whatever he wanted to because it didn’t really matter to Wanda or her life in Haven Hollow, because she’d never have to see him again.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “Yes, I have faced the error in my decision and I have repented that error.”

  I felt surprise ricochet through me as my eyebrows reached for the sky. “Well, I’m proud of you, Maverick,” I said and gave him a tap on the arm, to which he stepped away. Witches and warlocks weren’t exactly the emotional type and, as a rule, we didn’t like public displays of affection. “As to Wanda and Haven Hollow,” I continued. “She’s doing fine and her business is doing fine.”

  “And that odious familiar of hers?”

  I laughed—there wasn’t one person, outside of Celestine maybe, who actually liked Hellcat. “He’s fine too, although sometimes I’d rather jam a spoon into my eye than have to listen to him mewl about whoever’s most recently offended him.”

  “Yes, that familiar was quite vexing, as I recall.”

  “Anyway…”

  “And you? How is… your witch training coming along?”

  I sighed as an image of Ethan came to mind and I immediately snuffed it out again. No, I couldn’t talk to my brother about boys. That would just be… way too embarrassing. “Mundane high school is as boring as watching toadstools grow.”

  “Mundane high school?” he repeated, frowning, as if he were confused. “Don’t tell me Wanda isn’t seeing to your witch tutelage?”

  “No, she is. She’s teaching me magic and Poppy’s teaching me potions, but unfortunately, mundane law says I have to go to high school, so that’s where I’m going.”

  “Poppy?” Maverick repeated, looking at me in surprise. “You mean the gypsy?”

  I nodded as his expression changed to someone appalled. “You, a witch, are being trained in potions by a… a gypsy?”

  Maverick prescribed to the old way of thinking, in that gypsies were the enemies of witches. “Poppy is just as good, if not better, at brewing potions than any witch at our coven.”

  “Ex-coven.”

  “Ex-coven.”

  “That I would have to witness with my own eyes in order to believe,” he answered, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see the day that Wanda befriended a gypsy.”

  “Well, Wanda isn’t exactly a friend to anyone,” I said, even as I realized there was no truth to my words. Maybe once upon a time Wanda hadn’t had any friends, but now… now she was different. Now Wanda and Poppy were friends. In fact, Poppy might have been Wanda’s closest friend, even if I was sure Wanda would never admit it. Not that Maverick needed to know that. I looked at him, curious as to why he cared enough to ask these questions. “Why do you want to know?”

  He pretended to be taken aback by my question, almost offended by it. “I just want to ensure my little sister is being taken care of,” he said, ducking a branch as the ground leveled out and we stepped into the orchard.

  Liar, I thought. He just wants to know what Wanda’s up to and if he still has a chance with her.

  But I wouldn’t call him out on his lie. Having even one member of my estranged coven family with me during the holiday was better than nothing. In fact, the idea of going back to Haven Hollow left me cold, especially at the idea of facing the Halloween festivities, which were so unfamiliar to me.

  At the thought, I decided to pay attention to my surroundings and walked down one of the aisles of apple trees, inhaling the crisp autumn air as I closed my eyes and thanked the Goddess that I was able to experience this moment.

  When I opened my eyes again, I examined the low-hanging fruit on the nearest tree. Most of the apples there had small pits or bruises, but two were ripe and smooth. Into the basket they went! I stood on tiptoe to reach the next branch as Maverick came up behind me and deposited a few of his own finds into our basket.

  We were quiet for a while, Maverick reaching up to pluck the apples on the higher branches when I couldn’t reach them. The giggles and shrieks of children were a constant background refrain, so when he spoke again, the loudness of his voice actually startled me.

  “Wanda and Poppy don’t have to be your only teachers, you know,” he started as I looked up at him in confusion. “I’m as well-trained in witchcraft and potions as Mother or our aunt.”

  “Can you please refer to them as Tabitha and Celestine?” I nearly interrupted.

  He gave me a strange expression. “I suppose you must deal with things the way you choose to deal with them.” He took a breath and continued. “Anyway, I’m at least on par with the gypsy when it comes to brewing potions.”

  I didn’t like the emphasis he put on the word ‘gypsy’. He made the word sound dirty somehow, like being a gypsy was something disgraceful. Humans considered the word to be a slur, and when spoken like Maverick just had, it was hard not to agree. Poppy was used to the title, so she didn’t correct Wanda or me when we said it. But after hearing the way in which Maverick said the word, I made a note to ask Poppy if the term offended her. I didn’t imagine it would because it seemed like Poppy didn’t get offended easily. She was one of those constantly happy people, which made it all the more bizarre that Wanda was close to her. Wanda was anything but constantly happy. Constantly moody, maybe.

  “While that may be,” I started, even though I didn’t believe him. As far as I was concerned, there was no one who was as good at brewing potions as Poppy was—and that was the exact reason why Wanda had considered inviting Poppy to become part of our coven, if we ever formed one. “How would you even teach me? Or were you planning on guiding me through potions class on the phone?”

  He frowned down at me as he plucked an apple off a branch, about to deposit it into our basket when I pointed out a bruise on one side. Noting the bruise, he lobbed the apple over one shoulder and it plunked against a nearby tree, only to settle in the earth to forever hang its head in shame.

  “There is such a thing as a video call, you know?”

  “I know,” I answered, frowning up at him. “But potions are sort of a hands-on process.”

  He lifted his nose into the air and made the face he did whenever he was offended. “If you don’t want my help, fine. I was just attempting to be… nice.”

  He tried to make the remark sound offhand, but there was an undertone of something a little... sad under his words. Had I really hurt his feelings? Instantly I felt guilty, and that guilt became even heavier when I remembered the soft, understanding tone in his voice when we’d spoken on the phone earlier.

  In some ways, Maverick was even more alone than I was. I mean, I might not have had a best friend to commiserate with, but I did have Wanda and Poppy looking after me and I adored Poppy’s son, Finn. I was sort of friends with Lorcan, I guess you could say and Libby and Darla drove me nuts, but I figured I could count on them if I needed to. And Fifi and Roy would be there if I called on them.

  Who did Maverick have? Wanda? Hell no. The coven? No—a warlock was as welcome in a witch’s circle as a fungal hex. Tabitha had cut off communication with Maverick a long time ago, and Celestine wouldn’t have anything to do with him.

  The truth of the matter was that Maverick had me, and that was it. Hmm, so maybe this visit was about something more than just Wanda. I was probably the only person in the state that Maverick could actually talk to. Furthermore, I was probably the only person in the state who wanted to talk to him.

  Maverick glanced down, startled, when I flung an arm around his waist. The hug was a bit lopsided, thanks to the basket and the difference in our heights, but the thought was still there and I squeezed as hard as I could.

  “What… What are you doing?”

  “Hugging you, silly.”

  He tried to pull away from me. “Well, stop it, this instant!”

  I laughed but held on. “I know it’s sort of a foreign concept for you, since it’s been a while since anyone probably wanted to get anywhere near you.” He frowned more deeply at that. “But, I do care about you, you enormous, ill-tempered lug.”

  “I believe your red hair has finally seeped into your brain and you’ve lost your mind!”

  “If you want to video call to talk potions, we can video call, Maverick,” I said, deciding to ignore his comment. “But we can’t chat every night. I have homework to do, you know?”

  One corner of his full mouth curled up, even as he pried himself away from me. “That’s enough of that,” he said as I pretended to hug him again. This time, he jumped as far away from me as he could, making a face as he jerked his hands away so they wouldn’t accidentally graze me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Now tell me what you’ve learned thus far, so I can at least get a measure of how far behind you are,” he continued, being careful to keep the distance between us.

  Laughing, I told him the charms, spells, cantrips, hexes, and bewitchments Wanda had taught me, and all the potions I’d covered with Poppy. The list was longer than I would have guessed, and our basket was full with unblemished apples by the time I finished. Maverick hummed to himself, deep in thought, as we descended the hill and headed back to the one-story wood-paneled shop near the front gates. Maverick was all for casting a befuddlement charm on the owner and stealing the apples, but I vetoed the idea. I had a twenty in my purse, courtesy of Wanda, and I was going to use it.