When my phone chimes to tell me it’s time to get ready, I put on my favorite dress, with a vee neck and a fitted waist that flares out into a full skirt. Instead of being something traditionally romantic, it’s covered in the spines of books, turning me into a walking bookshelf. It usually cheers me up, but tonight it reminds me of Luke and his library. I fight down the pang pinching my squishy heart and curl my hair into my easiest 1950s style and swipe on a soft-pink lipstick. Good enough. It’s not as though there’s any reason to look great tonight.
As I trudge toward the front door, Princess Buttercup darts into the entryway. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want. You can use me as an excuse. I’ll make myself throw up areallybig hairball, and you can tell everyone you’re too worried about me to leave.” She starts making hacking noises in the back of her throat, but nothing happens. “Huh. I think I’m going to need to try harder.”
“Pleasedon’t,” I hurry to say before she can start hacking again.
“I know!” She hops up to set her paws on my thigh. “Take me with you, and as soon as Luke comes into the room, I’ll pee on his shoes. Everyone will ask him to leave, and you won’t have to see him.”
“Thank you.” I crouch and run my hand over her head,scratching behind her ears. “That’s the sweetest offer of weaponized peeing I’ve ever heard, but Luke won’t be there. He hates dancing.”
It’s the only thing making tonight bearable, knowing the Valentine’s Day Dance is the verylastplace Luke will be.
I get to Ferndale Falls a little early, the last rays of sunlight painting the sky over downtown with streaks of orange and pink. Light spills out of the windows of all the open shops, splashing across all the people walking arm in arm along the sidewalks. Every restaurant and café is filled to bursting with happy couples.
It’s like one of the over-abundant proposal scenes Luke and I experienced inside the book, where everywhere we looked were couples. Only all of this is real, and it feels like everyone in the world is happy and in love but me.
Mrs. Greely is already inside the Town Hall meeting room when I arrive, standing guard beside the refreshments table in the deep-red velour tracksuit she only wears on Valentine’s. Her sharp eyes miss nothing as Devina sets up several large urns full of coffee, fruit punch, and water. Pepperpot already has a rainbow of sugar cookies laid out across the table, shaped like hearts and iced with a range of toppings in varying colors and flavors. There’s also a platter of the traditional tiramisu, already cut up into small squares. Ferndale Falls might be the only place in the world that associates the espresso dessert with Valentine’s, but it’s a cemented tradition, so nobody’s messing with it.
“How did you hang those?” Mrs. Greely jabs her cane toward the ceiling, where the flying hearts flap around lazily.
“One of those tall ladders like painters use,” I lie.Actually, I had Severin use his shadow magic to move them from the greenhouse for the night. They look beautiful and add a touch of magic for anyone who can see their true nature.
The Events Committee Chair gives me the once-over, then sniffs. “The decorations are adequate.”
I suppress a smile. Adequate equals amazing in Mrs. Greely speak, because if she can find something to complain about, no matter how small, she totally will.
Jared stands behind the small table he’s set up as his DJ station. He taps his tablet, and Shakira’s newest hit plays over the room’s ceiling-mounted speakers. Someone dims the lights, and in an instant, all of my decorations look way better. Fanciful twists of crepe make loops across the walls in three different shades of pink. Every other surface is covered in hearts with a few cherubs mixed in.
People enter en masse, this event the most exciting thing to happen in months. Several head for the cookies and punch, while a few brave couples take to the dance floor, ready to get the party feeling flowing.
The aunts dance past, giving me happy little waves. “Great job, sweetheart!” “The place looks wonderful!”
I keep a smile on my face as I wave back. No need to spoil their Valentine’s fun.
Hannah floats by in Severin’s arms. She’s in a gorgeous flowing blue dress of Faerie silk, while he wears an embroidered waistcoat in a coordinating dark blue. The pair of them look like the other half of their personas—not a small-town mayor and her wealthy husband, but a king and queen of Faerie come to play among the mortals.
Rune twirls Autumn across the floor so quickly her long red hair and skirt fly out like twin flags. She laughs up at him, happy and bright.
I’m so glad both of them found love. I want only the best for my friends. But is it so horrible to want the same for myself? Will I ever find anyone willing to dance with me like that?
Several more Witch Bitches arrive. Kayla uses her height to spot me and plows through the dancers to get to my side. She gives me a quick hug. “You hanging in there?”
“I am.” It’s not a lie. Okay, not a huge one. Maybe medium sized? How bad is it to lie a medium-sized amount?
A second later I squeak when Shadow steps out of thin air right in front of us.
“Take a deep breath and hold it.” He grins, clamps a hand on both of our shoulders, and steps backward, pulling us into a gray and misty place. In another second we’re out and standing in…
“Haute & Bothered!” I gasp, taking in all of the gorgeous dresses filling the boutique. “What? How? What?”
“No time. You need to get changed,” the werepanther says. He spins toward Kayla. “And you’re her emotional-support person. I’ll be back in five minutes.” Then he steps to the side and disappears.
“What thehellis he playing at?” Kayla stands, hands on hips, glaring at the spot where Shadow last stood.
“No idea.”
“If I may?” a melodious voice says, and Valena steps out of the back. She’s tall and thin and beautiful, like all of the shadow fae, but she wears a gorgeous pale yellow dress ofdraped Faerie silk that completely hides her shadow tattoos. Looking at her, you see the elves her people used to be. She holds up the dress draped over her arms.
It’s cherry red, with a 1950s halter-style top and a full A-line skirt that will flare beautifully when twirled, supported by several layers of weightless silk instead of crinoline. The fabric’s patterned with tiny pink hearts scattered across the surface with an irregularity that says it’s been hand painted.
