Underneath the wide brim of my peaked hat, I catch sight of myself as I pass a stall full of scrying crystals and mirrors for divination. My eyes have gone from blue to red. The chill of the autumn air doesn't touch me at all. I'm warm all the way through. From the top of my head to the soles of my feet. Dantalion and Malphas are like walking furnaces.
I've found them both black clothes to wear, simple tunics and trousers, though even wearing the signature color of a witch doesn't help them blend in. They're much too tall and far more imposing than anyone else in all of St. Salem.
Our arrival to the festival draws everyone's attention. I don't have to shove or squeeze past anyone. The crowd parts like a sea for me and my familiars.
Stares. Whispers.
None of it fazes me. In fact, I revel in it. No more jokes to my face or jeers behind my back. They never would have loved me, so I'm happy to take their fears.
I don't stop at any of the food stalls or game booths. I'm hunting for revenge, and my familiars flank me. It doesn't take me long to find the targets of my ire. Leonard and Abigail and their petty friends are by the space set up for dancing.
The familiars they summoned in class are there too...but not for long. Black cats, every last one. They're all cute, but there's something slightly off about them.
Eyes too big. Or tails too long.
Not real cats, but spirits wearing the face of one. Though just like real cats, they don't care for dogs. As soon as they notice Dantalion and Malphas, those feline familiars scatter in all directions.
"Seth?" Leonard gasps as his familiar hisses and leaps out of his arms. He directs a scowl at me. "What are you doing here?"
"Who are...they?" Abigail asks with a pout.
"They're my dates," I smile shamelessly, "and my familiars."
The jealousy in Leonard and Abigail's eyes gives way to fear. Nobody else in their group says anything. In fact, they step back and slink off just like the catty familiars did. The twins are left alone with me and my hellhounds.
Their reign of terror is over. My reign has just begun.
"Happy Samhain," I bid them with a shrug, smirking as I link arms with Dantalion and Malphas. "See you back in class."
I won't torment them. Not like they did to me. I know exactly what it's like to be made to feel small. Like you don't belong. I'd never do that to someone else. But I don't have any problem handing out just desserts and scaring them. Just a little. It's the season for tricks and treats, right?
I'll never be alone or picked on again.
My familiars, my mates, will make sure of that.
I draw them both into kisses as we reach the middle of the dance floor. A joyful tune plays. Full of fiddles and bells and flutes. As I dance with my familiars, twisting this way and that, an idea occurs to me: they deserve new names to go with their new faces.
King Solomon named them once before, but now it's my turn. They should have more fitting names for the times.
"I'll call you Danny," I say, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'll call you Mal," I smile as I run a hand down his chest.
My Danny. My Mal.
They kiss me back, and together we dance the rest of Samhain away.
Epilogue
Danny
One Year Later...
"Welcome to Advanced Conjuration."
Dipped deep within Seth's shadow splayed across the hardwood flooring of the classroom, I watch and wait as the professor instructs his flock of little lambs. Seth sits among them, but he is not one of them.
He is ours. He ismine.My mate and master. He may be a witch, yet he's also part of our pack. It is still strange to think of myself in the singular. While Mal and I always have been and always will be two paired together as one, the longer we wear these human masks, the more we distinguish ourselves.
I am Danny.
