“You’re incorrect,” a deep voice booms from the back of the room, snapping with cool authority. Luke pushes off the wall to stand upright. “Invasive species tend to become problematic when they’re a predator that native animals have no defenses against. Hedgehogs aren’t predators.”
“But… but…” Harold flaps his arm again.
“Luke’s right,” I call out. His words sparked my memory of the book I read about weasels impacting the bird population in New Zealand. “Hedgehogs are insectivores,but they’re not any better at catching bugs than the moles that are already here. Our local beetle and grub populations are safe.” Especially since the rolling pumpkins aren’t actually animalsandlive on magic.
“Wonderful,” Hannah says. “Now, if we can move on to the next agenda i—”
“There’s only one thing we need to talk about this week. Finalizing the preparations for the Valentine’s Day Dance.” Mrs. Greely stomps her cane against the wooden floor and stands. She lists a long string of barked instructions, like a drill sergeant calling troops to order. Jared will DJ, and Old Joe will take tickets at the door. “Skye, you’re in charge of the decorations again this year.”
“Yep!” I nod.
“It wasn’t a question.”
Alrighty then. I bite my lip to keep from laughing as Autumn’s elbow digs into my ribs. She dealt with the full force of Mrs. Greely in event-planning mode last October for the town’s fall festival, so my bestie knows firsthand exactly how scary the elderly lady can get.
“You will use only items from the approved list.” She peers at me. “I mailed it to you last week.”
Oops. Going to have to check in with Rosie at the post office. My mail’s on hold while I stay at Luke’s, and I haven’t bothered to check, since I do all my bills online. Not that I need to see the list. It hasn’t changed in the four years I’ve decorated for the dance, so it’s burned into my brain. I can use pink and red. I can use hearts and cherubs as long as their naughty bits are covered. That’s it—that’s the entire list. Why Mrs. Greely thinks she needs to send it to me year after yearI’ll never know.
She moves on, barking out the refreshment assignment for Luigi.
“Actually, I won’t be doing the refreshments this year.” He stands and pulls off his flat cap, exposing a bald spot surrounded by gray hair. Luigi’s wrinkled tan face looks unusually solemn for a man who’s usually all smiles. “As many of you know, I’m getting ready to retire. And with so many new restaurants and cafés in town, you’ll all be well looked after.”
A murmur sweeps across the room, both happy and sad. Luigi’s has been something of an institution—the only restaurant to survive Ferndale Falls’s decline. But we also all love Luigi and want him to have the retirement he’s always dreamed of.
“I’ve arranged for Cake My Day and Grounds for Celebration to take over the refreshments.” With a sharp nod, he sits down.
Mrs. Greely stands frozen, so much tension rolling off her velour-clad body I almost expect her to start shooting fire like a dragon.
“Snickerdoodle,” I breathe out, waiting for her to explode. One, Luigi changed who’s catering, and two, he did itwithoutasking Mrs. Greely’s permission. That’s the two things she hates most rolled into one bad-news package.
In full-mayor mode, Hannah breaks the silence. “Thank you, Luigi. We’re going to miss you, but we also wish you all the best. As anyone who just had the cookies and coffee knows”—she waves toward the refreshment table and gives Mrs. Greely a knowingglance— “Cake My Day and Grounds for Celebration make excellent products. The Ferndale Falls Valentine’s Day Dance couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Can we still have tiramisu and espresso?” someone calls out from the back.
Pepperpot nods, and Devina says, “I’ll make sure I use the espresso beans Luigi recommends.”
Mrs. Greely remains silent for several long moments as the tension ratchets higher, like a teakettle reaching boil, ready to shriek. When she explodes, it’s in the fudginglastdirection I expect.
“You, you, and you,” she snaps, jabbing her cane toward Rune, Shadow, and Luke, “are on setup and knockdown.”
Rune and Shadow nod, but Luke comes off the wall, his wings lifting. “I didn’t volunteer.”
“I don’t care.” She thumps her cane against the floor.
Luke’s gaze swings toward me, something unfathomable flickering in his eyes. I’ve gotten so good at reading his grumpy faces that it’s uncomfortable to feel so uncertain about what he’s thinking today. His wings settle on his back, and he doesn’t protest again.
My mouth drops open as shock jitters through me. I expected him to refuse, to storm out of the meeting, muttering about being superior. He’s made it very clear he wants nothing to do with the Valentine’s Day Dance… or dancing or Valentine’s, for that matter. Take your pick—there’s a laundry list of things he’s guaranteed to hate about the event.
“Humph. That’s more like it.” Mrs. Greely gives a sharp nod and shuffles toward the door.
Leaving me gaping at Luke, a tiny sparkler of hope flickering in my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Skye
Kayla uses Hannah’s key to unlock the bookshop, while Hannah, Autumn, and I pick up our familiars from the greenhouse. By the time we enter I Touch My Shelf, the rest of the Witch Bitches are already there. The next few minutes become a flurry of hugs and hellos and three familiars all racing around demanding everyone’s attention.
