“You saw it, too?” I’d leaned forward to whisper the question. Not because I was worried that someone might overhear, but because it felt like a very private subject. Like maybe it should be something just between the two of us.

  Andre swallowed, his eyes jumping to my face. His lips twitched, but he was quiet as he nodded.

  I lifted our hands up a few inches off the table, turning them gently to see if I could make that little red thread of magic come back into view, but it seemed to be playing shy all of a sudden.

  “Do you know what it is? Or what it means?” I asked him, curious. My pulse sped up for some reason, blood all but leaping in my veins.

  “Yes,” Andre said, his voice hoarse.

  He searched my face then, his eyes moving over my every feature. “It means…” He swallowed again, hard enough that I could see the movement in his throat. “It means... that our souls... are connected.”

  A rush of heat tore through me like a wildfire. Soulmates? That’s what he had to mean, right? Souls connected... I’d heard the stories, people bound by the ‘red string of fate’, but I never thought it would be quite so literal.

  I was fated to Andre.

  That meant he was my match, the other part of my soul, the person I’d been looking for my entire life without ever knowing it. A person who was with me not only in this life, but in every other.

  My one.

  Just as quickly as it came, the fire of excitement within me guttered out, leaving nothing but cold ashes in its wake.

  Because I was going to screw it up.

  My track record was beyond abysmal. I never picked the right guy. We either had huge differences, like Roy and I, never mind that he was fated to Fifi. Or I ended up hurting someone badly, like I had with Marty. And my relationships before I came to Haven Hollow, well, the less said about those, the better. The only good thing to come out of any of them had been Finn, who was the best part of my life.

  But even with all that—even with all the failed relationships, fate was presenting me with this man. This wonderful, kind, caring man. This man, who did everything he could to inspire hope in others, who had uprooted his entire life to move to Haven Hollow to teach Finn. Handsome, dependable, kind, funny and charming—he was everything I’d ever wanted in a man. And he was meant to be my other half?

  My chest was heaving, but I couldn’t seem to get any air. It suddenly felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Right here at the table. Because I was soulmates with an amazing man, and it was all going to go so, so wrong, because I just couldn’t seem to do things any other way.

  Andre’s hand tightened on mine. “Poppy, breathe. It’s alright.”

  He traced a little shivery pattern on the back of my hand, and my lungs unlocked. Everything suddenly felt fresh and clear, my head not so fuzzy and my heart no longer pounding a thousand times a second.

  “What did you just do?” I asked him when I thought I could speak without gasping. “Was that magic?”

  Andre smiled slightly, still watching my face. “It’s my little pick-me-up. I used to need it when I got stage fright before a show.”

  “You got stage fright?” I couldn’t picture it. He always seemed so calm, so in control of himself, so prepared for everything that came his way.

  The smile became a little more genuine, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Oh, yes. Quite a lot, actually.”

  The thought of a younger Andre trying to talk himself up before stepping out onto the stage, nervous and hopeful, well, it made something go warm and soft in my chest. It was like a little glimpse into his life, that confession. I gave his fingers a squeeze.

  “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t mean the spell. Though, that was pretty cool, too.

  He was quiet long enough that I started to get nervous again.

  “Poppy.” He said my name quietly, almost reverently. “I understand why you waited—why you didn’t want to see what this was between us. And perhaps you still don’t...”

  “No,” I nearly interrupted him. “It’s not that.”

  He nodded. “Well, I don’t want to rush you, or push you at all. That isn’t my intention and never has been.”

  “I know,” I said with a nod. “You’ve been more than understanding and patient.”

  He gave me a smile. “Because I would very much like to see where this could go—whenever you’re ready, of course.” He squeezed my hand, his fingers strong and warm against my chilled skin. “I’d like to see what this is between us, and what it could be. But only if you want that, too.”

  I couldn’t seem to look away from his face, his eyes. They were so blue in the candle light, with a few flecks or gray around the outer edge of his iris. I wanted to run my fingers over the arch of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the surprisingly soft looking curve of his lower lip.

  Part of me wanted to throw myself across the table at him. The other part, the small, terrified piece of me, wanted to bolt for the door.

  In the beginning, yes, I’d held back because I didn’t want to hurt Marty. I’d never wanted him to feel replaced or unimportant to me. But it had been eight months, and even if he wasn’t ready to talk to me just yet, Marty’s feelings weren’t really a valid excuse any longer. The only thing really holding me back now was myself.

  This was soulmate stuff. So much bigger than any other relationship I’d ever been in. Andre was my person. And my track record was basically a dumpster fire. And not to mention that he’d moved cities for me, and he was Finn’s teacher. If it all went to hell, would he regret moving here? Would he resent me? Would he resent Finn? I didn’t want Finn to lose out just because I stunk at dating. I’d never stop being grateful to Marty that he hadn’t ditched Finn just because we hadn’t worked out, but could I really expect the same from Andre? I was so afraid of screwing it all up that I almost didn’t want to try at all.

  “You’re having second thoughts?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m... scared. I have a track record of... failed relationships.”

  He laughed at that. “We all have a track record of failed relationships, Poppy,” he said softly. “Until we find the one we’re meant to be with and then that record of failure ends.”

  I swallowed hard. “What if I screw this up?”

  “What if you don’t?”

  Andre wanted to try. He thought it was worth the risk—that I was worth the risk. If I couldn’t be brave for myself, maybe I could be brave for him?

  I licked my lips, trying desperately to work some moisture back into them, and brought my other hand up to put over our clasped palms. My heart was leaping in my chest, to the point where I was half afraid it was going to burst free and take off like a bird out of a cage.

  Andre watched me, so still I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. His pupils were wide and dark, expanding until only the thinnest ring of blue was visible.

  He was waiting for an answer. He deserved an answer.

  I just had to, as Wanda would say, hike up my big girl pants and give him one.

  “Andre, I–”

  The power suddenly went out, plunging the restaurant into darkness. The only lights were the little candles on every table, little pinpricks like distant stars.

  I jumped and turned around, watching the rest of the diners doing the same. “What…?”

  Andre glanced around, peering out one of the windows. “I think it’s just a hiccup in the power. The place across the street still has lights on.”

  And just like that, the street lights outside flickered once and went out, followed by the lights on the rest of the street until everything inside and outside was bathed in darkness.

  Andre sighed.

  The servers hurried to the kitchen, and there was some quiet talking that I couldn’t quite make out. Finally, our server made his way over to the table, picking his way through the dark room.

  “I’m so sorry, but the power is out, and it doesn’t look like it will be coming back for some time. For your own safety, we have to ask everyone to leave. Your dinner is, of course, on us.”

  Andre put a few bills down on the table, and we slowly and carefully made our way between chairs and other customers, and out into the parking lot.

  Andre laughed ruefully. “Well, that wasn’t quite how I pictured this evening going.”

  I caught his hand, feeling like if I didn’t, he might slip away from me. “I had a really nice time. I mean, before the…” I waved a hand back at the dark restaurant. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he said as he handed me into the passenger seat of his black Range Rover. “And might I say, that is a truly stunning dress and you look more lovely than I’ve ever seen you. I meant to tell you as much when I first saw you, but I suppose my nerves got the best of me.”

  I grinned as he shut the door. In the back of my head, I could practically hear Wanda’s ‘I told you so’.

  As Andre slid into the driver’s seat, I realized I’d never actually given him an answer. Would it be weird if I brought it up now, though? It felt odd, like the moment had passed.

  As we pulled out of the parking lot, I picked at the hem of my dress and tried not to feel like I’d taken a wrong step somewhere.

  That night, once I’d finished tossing and turning, I dreamed of fire.

  Chapter Ten

  Exactly forty-five minutes past sunset the next day found me hammering on Wanda’s door.

  Well, technically it was Lorcan’s front door. Well, one of them anyway. But since he and Wanda were pretty strictly co-habitating those days, because she and Lorcan were all gooey and in love (though she’d never admit as much), it was also Wanda’s front door.

  I took a deep breath, waited for fifteen seconds, and knocked again.

  It was after sunset. Even with Wanda adopting vampire hours, she should have been awake. It had been painful enough, waiting on pins and needles all day, for her to wake up. I would have called earlier, but it was usually safer to let sleeping witches lie.

  The door wrenched open, revealing a very disheveled looking Wanda in a plum silk dressing gown, her dark hair a wavy tangle spilling over her shoulder. She scowled at me, the nails she’d curled against the doorframe suddenly looking like mulberry painted talons.

  “Something had better be on fire,” she snarled. “Or something is about to be.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m cursed,” I blurted out, twisting my hands in the front of my sweater. The dawning realization had been plaguing me all day, and I was desperate for an answer, even if Wanda had already given me one.

  “I already told you—you aren’t cursed.”

  I frowned. “I’m pretty sure I am—can you... check again?” I mean—witch magic wasn’t a science, right? There had to be times when Wanda might make a mistake—say like—failing to detect a curse that had been placed on me.

  Wanda blinked at me blearily for a few seconds. Then she heaved an enormous sigh, like I was the most trying person on the face of the entire planet, and raked a hand back through her hair. “I don’t make mistakes.”

  “I’m sure you don’t, but would you mind just checking again? I mean—just to put my own mind at ease?”

  The frown became more pronounced. “Who would ever bother to curse you—someone so sickeningly cheerful who doesn’t have an enemy... anywhere? Honestly, where do you even get these ideas?”

  I knew, in her own special way, Wanda was trying to reassure me. But what had been happening lately—well, it was all just too much for it to be a coincidence.

  “Wanda.” It came out as more of a wail than I’d meant it to. “I’m serious.”

  She tugged at the belt of her house coat and stepped back from the door. “Well, you’d better come in, then. I’m not doing any kind of magic without caffeine.”

  She bustled me through the house and into the pristine looking kitchen. I had a little bit of tidiness envy, because my kitchen looked a bit like an essential oil bomb went off in it, until I remembered that a kitchen in a vampire’s house probably didn’t get a lot of use.

  Wanda turned on the coffee machine, one of the fancy industrial ones that could make some kind of double shot caramel macchiatos in point three seconds, and stared at it with the kind of desperation that was a little uncomfortable to watch.

  I just sat in the chair she’d dumped me into, trying not to fidget too much. I wanted Wanda’s help, and she was my BFF, but I wasn’t entirely sure about my safety if I got between her and her first cup of coffee. Wanda didn’t even sit down for the first cup. She just sucked it back right there at the counter, and set the machine for a refill.

  I jumped when she plonked a mug down onto the table in front of me. The liquid was a pale gold, and still steaming as I cautiously nudged it towards myself. “What is it?”

  “Chamomile.” Wanda half sat, half collapsed into the chair across from me. “To calm your butt down. I’d dose you up with horse tranquilizers, but I’m fresh out.”

  While it wasn’t exactly nice, my stomach was tying itself in knots, and some tea actually did sound good. So, I sipped at it, waiting impatiently for Wanda to wake up so we could face the task at hand.

  Wanda finally finished her second cup, and she gave a longing look towards the machine, but turned back to me reluctantly. “Alright, why do you think you’re cursed, for spell’s sake?”

  I took a deep breath and tried to loosen my grip on the mug before I cracked it. “It’s a lot of things. Just, everything keeps going wrong. It started out with me feeling clumsy, tripping, dropping things, you know? But then it progressed.” My fingers were white at the knuckles, so I forced myself to let go of the cup and folded them in my lap instead. “And then it was my usual supplier having issues, so I had to go to another place for product, and they sent me bad ingredients that were mislabeled. But in general, I’ve been suffering all sorts of nightmares, difficult customers, and then, last night…”

  Wanda yawned so widely, I could see her tonsils. “Sorry,” she managed with a little smile. “Keep going.”

  “Then last night, when I was out with Andre—”

  “Oh my Goddess,” she started, her eyes going wide. “You were going to finally get some and it went wrong? Hmm, that could be a curse. If nothing else, a hex. Either way, this is serious. Hang on, let me get some supplies.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I protested weakly, but she was already out of the room and racing down the hall.

  “Keep explaining!” she called out. “I can hear you.” Right—courtesy of her vampire hearing, which was courtesy of her Blood Witch magic.

  “Just as things were getting good between us,” I continued, a little louder, just in case. “And we were finally making some headway into whatever is going on between us, the electricity went out.”

  I buried my face in my hands, kind of hoping the ground would just open up underneath me and I could fall into a sinkhole and not have to finish this conversation. When Wanda came back, to my relief, she wasn’t lugging any elaborate supplies or curse-breaking tools. She was dressed, which was fair enough. She’d also taken the time to get another cup of coffee before she sat back down.

  “All kidding aside, everything you mentioned kind of sounds like crappy luck. No cursing required.” She raised her mug like she was toasting me. “Annoying, but it happens. Grin and bear it, and I’m sure everything will be sunshine and roses for you soon enough.”

  Wanda was the High Witch of Haven Hollow, and no one could say she didn’t know her stuff. But I just couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was very wrong with me.

  “I keep dreaming of fire.” The words came out just louder than a whisper, like I was confessing something. “And the dreams feel so real—they’re more like visions. And that’s what I’m afraid of—that I’m somehow getting a vision of the future. I feel like something terrible is going to happen.”

  I must have looked like a wreck, because Wanda actually put her mug down with a small click. She reached across the table and wiggled her fingers at me. “Hands.”

  I’d been clutching at the hem of my sweater so tightly that it actually hurt to make myself let go as blood rushed back into the tips of my fingers.

  “You say you think you’re cursed, then let’s check... again.”

  Wanda’s voice was brusque, but her words sent a wave of gratitude through me. I probably gripped her hands a little too hard, but she didn’t complain, other than a little wrinkle forming between her brows.

  I always expected Wanda’s power to be like a battering ram, which was maybe not terribly flattering to her. She just had so much strength, and a kind of to-the-point attitude, that it made me expect a huge outpouring of magic. But the almost delicate way her magic feathered through me was a surprise. Instead of feeling like I was being swept away by a riptide, it was a bit more like slipping into a warm bath. Power, familiar and strong, moved through every vein, warm and determined.

  My eyes fell closed. I was so, so tired, and even just that warm soothing touch was almost enough to have me snoring on the table. Eventually, Wanda sat back to take a sip from her mug. There was a bit of tightness to the skin around her eyes that made the back of my neck prickle.

  “What is it? Is it bad?”

  “As far as I can tell, there is no outside magic affecting you—just like I told you the first time. I don’t make mistakes.”

  I nodded but was disappointed. I just didn’t understand how that could be. “Then there’s nothing wrong with me?”

  “No curses, no glamours, nothing.” Wanda tapped her nails against the table, thinking. “There’s no witch magic that I can sense, not even faerie magic, which can be a bit hard to sniff out. The only magic I could detect in you is your own.”

  I sagged back into my seat. The news that I wasn’t cursed should have been a relief, but all I felt was defeated. A curse could be broken, magic removed. But instead, it was all just random happenings, and there was nothing I could do but grit my teeth and hang on until things got better. Well, if they got better.

  I tried to smile, but I could tell it was a little watery around the edges. Frustration pulsed like a second heart beat at the back of my skull. “Okay. Well, thank you for checking again. I’m sorry to have bothered you... again.”