A piercing giggle had me gritting my teeth so hard, they squeaked.

  It certainly wasn’t helping that I’d been invaded by the female half of the Reid clan yet again.

  I’d really thought that by telling Bryony specifically to come and pick up her order, that I might be able to spare myself a second invasion of the time snatchers. Watching grown women giggle over a bit of white silk and lace was something no one needed to be subjected to. Especially a woman whose husband was acting so weird, we actually hadn’t even had sex in days.

  The one saving grace was at least they’d showed up when Maverick was still here, and this time, he didn’t get the opportunity to ditch me. One of the mid-teen girls of the family had latched onto his arm and was in the process of actually fluttering her eyelashes at him, which was both hilarious and slightly repulsive.

  Though, the look on Maverick’s face—watching him trying to keep his customer service smile in place while looking like he was trying not to laugh and/ or vomit was almost worth the assault on my eardrums.

  I didn’t know why I’d bothered packaging the nightgown up so carefully in tissue paper and a garment box. The instant I’d brought it out, the crowd had opened it right back up again, and pulled it out, insisting that Bryony hold it up and let them ooh and ah over it, which at least was mildly gratifying.

  At least they didn’t demand she put it on and parade around. It wasn’t that kind of store.

  Not that there was anything particularly scandalous about the thing—but it was a nightgown. And a wedding negligee at that. I might not have known much about weddings, but I was pretty sure the idea was for only your husband to see you in it.

  With the full weight of four generations of peer pressure on her, Bryony did pick up the nightgown and held the straps up to her shoulders so the silk fabric spilled down over her body. It might not have been the most intricate design I’d ever come up with, but it was elegant and classic in its simplicity. The silk was ivory, with a gathered bodice and a waistline that sat just under the bust, so the creamy fabric spilled almost straight to the floor. It was designed so that, when the wearer moved, the fabric would cling to the hips or the thighs, sensual in what it hinted at, rather than something more risqué, like peekaboo panels or the like.

  Trimmed with delicate ivory lace, and a hint of white-on-white embroidery that held the enchantments they’d asked for, I had to admit, it was a lovely piece. While the others all chattered about how beautiful it was, Bryony was silent. She lifted a hand to stroke the smooth, cool fabric where it lay against her stomach, and then let her arm drop. I couldn’t quite place the expression she was wearing, and I almost asked if there was something wrong with the nightgown.

  Then, at a lull in the noise, she said very quietly, “It’s beautiful.”

  The horde converged on her then, smiling, crying, congratulating her. Only Bryony was still, looking down at the ivory silk. She was silent, just brushing the tips of her fingers back and forth across the slippery fabric.

  Maverick, who’d managed to deftly extract himself from his admirer, retreated behind the counter with me. I smirked at him, but he pretended not to see it.

  Mrs. Reid, who had gushed “Oh, please, call me Thea,” when I’d first brought the night gown out, was now openly sobbing—taking in heaving, snotty gulps of air. I hoped like spell she didn’t touch anything in the store because ‘snot spelled’ didn’t need to be part of my repertoire. Her whole body was quivering with the force of her breathing.

  “I’m going to be a grandmother,” she cried, and blew her nose with a distressingly wet sound.

  That seemed a little over the top. Yes, the nightgown was spelled to encourage fertility, but it wasn’t like Bryony was going to get knocked up the second she put it on. Besides, I didn’t understand why Thea was so excited about having grandchildren when some of the girls in the throng seemed to be Bryony’s sisters and with the toddlers running around, I figured they belonged to some of the younger women.

  While the rest of the mob surrounded Bryony, Thea came over to the counter to cry at me for some reason. “It’s so perfect.” She blew her nose again, and I not so subtly pushed a bottle of hand sanitizer closer to her on the counter.

  Thea didn’t notice. “It’s all going to be so perfect. We’re having the ceremony outside on the full moon, in the field next to the motel. And everyone in the family is helping to make the meal. Right at moonrise—that’s when they’ll take their vows.”

  I couldn’t think of a tactful way to tell her that it was literally impossible for me to care less, and there was also the chance that they might become repeat customers, so I just plastered on the customer service smile it had taken me months to learn, and nodded.

  “Oh!” Thea looked between Maverick and me, her face glowing, and not just from blowing her nose too much. “You should come, both of you! It’s going to be wonderful, I’m sure you’ll have a great time, and the more the merrier! It’s going to be quite the to-do.”

  Maverick, probably sensing that I was one more piercing giggle away from telling them I’d rather glue my nostrils together than go, stepped in and used the charm he apparently had when he wasn’t dealing with family.

  “That sounds amazing, Thea, and thank you so very much for inviting us and I would love to come. It sounds like you’ve put a lot of effort into planning everything, so it all goes off just right.”

  Thea straightened up, her face shining with pride. “Yes, we have. Oh, but there’s still so much to do.” Then she turned to the rest of the pack. “Come on ladies, we need to get to our next stop.”

  And thank the goddess for that.

  It took another ten minutes for them all to herd out, but eventually, they were gone and I could breathe a little easier, even as I wondered if I should start disinfecting the place. The shop was suddenly so silent that I could almost hear it ringing. It was blissful.

  I shoved at Maverick’s shoulders, pushing him out from behind the counter. “Quick, lock the door. Before they decide to come back.”

  Once the store was locked up, and the sign set to closed, I let myself slump back against the counter. My neck ached, and there was a knot wedged up underneath my shoulder blade, but it was finally done. Another satisfied customer. Or fifty.

  I reached back as far as I could and dug my thumb into the muscle of my shoulder, trying to relieve the knot. “You’re not really going to go to the wedding, are you?”

  Maverick didn’t leer, or offer to rub my shoulders for me, which was a sign of how far we’d come. Once upon a time, he would have taken any excuse he could get to touch me. Taliyah was a good influence on him.

  He shrugged. “I might as well. A moonrise ceremony with a bunch of drunk, celebrating werewolves. Taliyah and I will probably get called in anyway, so we might as well get a drink and a meal out of it.”

  He actually had a point.

  “And since they’re your clients, you should go too.”

  I frowned, but then the more I thought about it, the more it started to appeal to me—simply because it would be a night out that gave me an excuse to dress myself up to the nines, and drink on someone else’s tab. A bit of mental math confirmed that, yes, it was Lorcan’s late night at the office, so he wouldn’t be able to go with me, but why should I sit at home waiting for him, anyway? I’d wear a killer dress and heels, and maybe I’d send him a picture that made him regret having to work.

  The thought made me falter. I still didn’t know what was up with Lorcan and his weird behavior lately, and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up without sounding like I was jealous or something equally offputting. In general, I didn’t do emotions. I hadn’t been raised to react well to them and even though I was learning the Grinch’s lesson and my heart had grown at least two times since I’d moved to Haven Hollow, I still wasn’t ready to play the part of jealous wife. Not only that, but I was also the High Witch of a coven, and I was accustomed to a certain level of attentiveness. Perhaps that’s all this was—that my expectations were up at the top of Mount Everest, and Lorcan was failing to live up to them lately.

  “Everything all right?” Maverick asked, his tone wary.

  Well, spell, it must have been obvious that everything wasn’t alright if even my useless cousin was noticing. It was almost sweet if you liked those Hallmarky sort of moments. But I’d have rather eaten live spiders than ever discuss my relationship problems with him. He’d never let me live it down.

  So, I brushed him off. “It’s nothing. Just thinking about what inventory I might need to restock.”

  It was pretty obvious that Maverick didn’t buy it. But he’d also grown up in a coven, until he got kicked out for the dual sins of being powerful and a male, so he knew better than to press a witch to talk about something personal. That’s how people got hexed.

  I grabbed my bag from under the counter. “Now, let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink after tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  I had to hand it to the Reid pack; they did put on an excellent shindig.

  The Blue Moon motel was close to the edge of town, with about thirty rooms and lots of parking. The field right next to it was enormous—big enough that the wedding wasn’t occurring right next to the building. And there was a privacy screen of evergreen trees between the motel windows and the party.

  Someone had strung large orb lights on poles, with dainty fairy lights woven between the branches of the pine trees along one side of the field. Once the moon rose, there would be plenty of light to see by, but the setup still allowed the shadows to keep everything soft and private.

  It was a werewolf party, which meant there was a truly astonishing amount of food. The far table, set up like a buffet, was practically groaning under the number of trays and chaffer dishes sitting on it. I wasn’t quite sure what I’d been expecting, maybe burgers and hot dogs, but a Fourth of July barbeque this definitely was not.

  It was meat heavy, which I’d expected. But there was everything from meatballs in a tangy sweet sauce, to steaks, to salmon covered in a lemon and dill sauce. Whole roasted turkeys were arranged, ready to be carved. Right beside the turkeys was a lamb roast and next to that, there were ribs, and chicken wings, and a whole mess of sides. Everything from potato salad to cornbread, with a pity salad pushed to the corner as the only vegetables I could see, other than the cobs of corn done on the grill and piled high onto a tray.

  People were milling around, as the meal was supposed to start right after the ceremony. Standing there, smelling the delicious scents, it was a little bit of torture, honestly. Fortunately, Thea Reid knew her guests, and that meant she knew hungry werewolves in a confined area drinking alcohol would probably end in fur flying, so there were also servers in white shirts and black slacks milling through the crowd, with trays of appetizers as well as glasses of wine.

  I was in the process of eyeing a tray coming my way that had what looked like golden puffed sausage rolls, when I realized the server carrying the tray was the same man I’d seen with Bryony in Portland. He was still wearing his glamor, which was a little strange. The venue wasn’t exposed to anyone who shouldn’t have been there, and literally everyone who was present was a supernatural of one type or another. Point being, it wasn’t like he had to hide.

  Maybe he was a really strange looking species, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself or something. We’d been getting more and more of those since Fifi had taken over the real estate agency in town. Or maybe his glamour was part of his contract. If he’d been female, I would have thought he might be a hag trying to contain her aura of decay. I could see that making a serving job a lot more difficult.

  I shrugged. What the waiter was or why he was covering himself up wasn’t really any of my business. Unlike witches, who were proud of their power and wanted everyone to know it, some supernatural types were shy, or feared too much attention, even in a Hollow.

  The waiter glanced around and then set his full tray down on a nearby table before ghosting off into the crowd. I frowned. That was odd. Maybe he had to answer the call of nature? Or maybe he was going to help another server with something?

  “Wine, ma’am?”

  The waitress who approached me only came up to my chin. She had a mass of bright, copper colored curls and big green eyes. Not to mention, she smelled like apple blossoms and sun-baked grass. Fae of some type, most likely. But more importantly, she had a tray of glasses filled with wine, which made her my new favorite person.

  I snagged a glass with a smile, and she hustled away while I took a sip.

  “Aren’t you supposed to save that to toast the happy couple?”

  I turned just far enough to acknowledge Maverick, who was coming up behind me, and I exaggeratedly raised my glass before I took another sip. “I’m toasting them privately. May they live happily ever after in the moonlight, and have many fat babies.”

  Maverick rolled his eyes, but then Taliyah appeared beside him, and she gave me a nod of greeting, which I returned.

  I rather liked Taliyah Morgan. And not just because she seemed capable of keeping my cousin’s more obnoxious personality traits in check. I liked that she’d forged her own path and refused to let anyone guilt or shame her into something (aka an arranged marriage) that wasn’t in her best interests.

  Taliyah had been born Princess Olwen of the Winter court of faerie, but she’d lived almost half a century as a human, never knowing who or what she really was. Then her adoptive brother, Cain Morgan, had been murdered in the line of duty as Haven Hollow’s Chief of Police, and Taliyah had come to find out what happened. And she’d taken his place as the new chief.

  Then the seal on her identity had been broken early.

  Suddenly, she had all kinds of power, and her body was changing, and everyone was telling her she needed to go back to Faerie and marry a man she’d never met and become Queen. Never mind her two adopted children, or her life that she’d worked hard for, nope never mind all that. Just dust it all away and do what some prophecy told her to.

  Taliyah had told them all, quite succinctly, where to stick it, and had continued on serving and protecting the Hollow. Though, with a few new powers and a better understanding of exactly what was going on. There were some fairly serious political problems, and a great deal of fighting, but I would have done exactly the same thing, had I been in her place.

  Truly, of all the women in Haven Hollow, I most identified with Taliyah. Yes, Poppy was my closest friend and I would destroy anyone who tried to hurt her (or her son), but Taliyah and I were cut from the same fabric. We could understand one another. If it weren’t for the fact that she was fae and platinum blonde, she could have easily been born a witch—she was that strong.

  Since there weren’t any humans in the crowd, Taliyah hadn’t bothered with the glamour that made her look human. So, instead of a shoulder-length, no nonsense bob of graying brownish hair, she had a waist-length fall of pure silver that was twisted into a simple updo. Her skin was flawless, the little lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth erased. The only part of Taliyah that never changed were those brilliant, ice blue eyes.

  She was looking quite nice in a floaty dress of pale lilac. I sensed my cousin’s hand in that, since Taliyah was more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of person when she was off duty. They looked good together, I had to admit. Relaxed in a way I rarely saw Maverick. Fortunate, I thought, since they were technically married.

  I’d married them myself, in fact, and the spell had gone a bit deeper than even I had intended. Maverick had made the offer as a way for Taliyah to circumnavigate her betrothal of the Prince of Autumn, Reynard. Or as I’d met him, Fox Aspen. The relationship wasn’t typical, and it was rare for a witch to marry, never mind a warlock. But it seemed to be working for them, and I was hardly in a position to judge.

  Maverick gave me a glance and lifted his wine glass to take a sip. “Where’s your bloodsucker?”

  I covered my annoyance with a sip from my own glass. Rule one for witch socializing; never let them see when they get under your skin. “He’s working tonight. He’ll either join me when he finishes, or I’ll meet him at home.”

  Assuming he showed up this time. I kept my face blank, not wanting to give anything away. Maverick had never liked Lorcan, partially because he’d had some weird crush on me for years, mostly because I was the only witch who’d ever been half-way decent to him. Thank goddess he was finally over that crush, or us being in a coven together again would have been very uncomfortable.

  I glanced at my phone and frowned at the time. I’d thought the ceremony was supposed to have started a half an hour ago. The groom was already here, standing by the flower arch and the werewolf who was acting as the officiant was waiting too. A bunch of the groom’s male relatives had gathered around, slapping his shoulder and hyping him up from the looks of things.

  The groom didn’t look like a man getting married. He looked like a man who’d been told he was getting his favorite body part amputated. His mood was certainly somber and to see him moping around, staring at the ground, you might think someone just died. He looked resigned, not particularly happy. His reaction reminded me of Bryony’s sullen quiet on her first visit to the shop.

  So, not a love match, then. Why even bother getting married? Goddess help me, but I did not understand this very strange institution.

  If we were all going through with this farce, then I wished that they’d get a move on. According to one of the cousins I’d recognized from the female werewolf brigade, Bryony was just getting ready in one of the motel rooms. It was less than a hundred feet away, so there was no way she could get lost.

  The crowd was getting restless. There was less happy laughter and more mumbling, people craning their heads around to look and see if there was any sign of the bride. Maverick and Taliyah were watching the younger male werewolves who had seemingly decided to start pre-drinking for the event with a kind of annoyed resignation on their faces. This was going to be one afterparty I was glad I wasn’t going to have to clean up.