“You do not need me to ruin your celebration, little bug,” he’d argued, attempting to make his way to the attic, seeming shocked that was not the plan for the night. She had blocked the staircase. It didn’t matter if he could pluck her up like a doll. He wouldn’t.
“If I have to suffer the indignity of socializing,” she had laughed as he made a comical attempt to duck under her arm, “then so do you!”
Now he was just outside the pergola, trapped in conversation with the kitsune and Zella, the friend she’d brought. Zella was someone Ladybug recognized, a sylvan who worked the reference desk at the campus library. She had added to the gold markings on her face for the occasion, painting in colorful flowers, despite the chill outside, and brought a tray of a flaky, honey-drizzled homemade pastry to share.
“Momo,” she heard Anzan saying hesitantly to the kitsune. “Like the peach?”
The kitsune was enthusiastic in her reply, not that Ladybug could hear it. All around her, their guests were laughing and socializing, a vibrancy that had long been missing from the house. She thought of the gatherings Authricia had hosted when she was a girl, how fun they’d been, back before she’d realized she would forever be standing on the wrong side of the glass, looking in on her sisters, an outcast in the coven.Well . . . maybe not forever.They were not a true coven and there likely wasn’t a single witch of any pedigree amongst them . . . but that was not essential.A witch’s intent is more important than the strength of her spell.
“Thank you so much for doing this. It’s so lovely.”
Ladybug turned to the voice over her shoulder, finding Milaya, the vampire she and Holt had met at the Makers’ Mart. The pale-skinned beekeeper had come to their table the week they had sold out of everything before the end of the day, enthusiastically congratulating her and Holt both.
“I’m so happy for you! Maybe I’ll check if they can put our booths closer. I’m happy to move.” She’d given them a swift look around, her light-colored eyes peering over the top of the tinted glasses she wore. “Everyone here is mostly nice, but when you sell out week after week, your neighbors can get a little tetchy. It would be nice being close to another vendor breaking down early!”
Holt had engaged the beekeeper in a discussion about the craft one week, as Ladybug shifted from foot to foot, her fingers busy with the small metal toy Holt had shoved in her hands the second week. She had no idea what its purpose was, but it had several little buttons and dials that clicked and turned and kept her fingers occupied, and she was grateful for the distraction. Milaya told them her mother had been a witch and that she had been raised in the craft, long before her turning.
“I’ve only really gotten back into it in the last two decades or so. Just kind of doing my own thing right now.” She’d never been a part of the coven here in Cambric Creek, and Holt had harrumphed triumphantly when Milaya had left to return to her own table, full of honey and candles, the byproducts of her beekeeping.
The vampire had brought a large jar of her honey that evening, one Holt swooped in to take before Ladybug could even accept it.
“That issogenerous of you, thank you so much!”
He’d smiled broadly at the vampire, turning to Ladybug once Milaya had entered the party. “I’m putting this in the kitchen. She enchants it. I brought home a jar a few weeks ago to put on toast and couldn’t leave my apartment for half the day. Blue pill effect, if you know what I mean. I understand why she’s selling out. But no one needs to be eating this, unless we’re planning on having averydifferent kind of party.”
Ladybug had no idea what he meant, but it hadn’t mattered. Now the vampire stood before her, positively beaming.
“It’s been ages since I’ve celebrated any of the sabbaths this way. Thank you so much for hosting this and for inviting me.”
Ladybug smiled, wishing she had the little metal device in her palm just then, with its distracting clicks and dials. “Of course. I–I’m so glad you came. I’m glad anyone came! I-I’ve never hosted a party before.” She laughed, that limping sparrow sound again, neck heating. “We’re, um, not exactly big socializers.”
Milaya shrugged, gesturing to the chattering clusters of witches and wannabes. “That’s the beauty of it, you don’t have to be. It only takes one or two extroverts to make a party.”
She could see them now, those extroverts.
Bethany and Holt’s girlfriend, telling an animated story with a circle around them. The kitsune, now lifting her shirt to show Anzan something on her back, as the sylvan from the library looked on, laughing.
“That isnotwhat it means.“ She could hear Anzan’s solemn voice as he peered at the kitsune’s tattoo, punctuated by a fresh round of laughter from the sylvan; Marina and Tara in conversation with several others, Agatha among them.
Maybe Holt is right. There’s a void for those who’ve never been welcome to join the coven. Who else is going to fill it?
“Please, everyone, make a plate,” she called out, hoping she could be heard over the chatter. “There’s no need to wait and there’s so much!”
She was standing back, watching the assembled witches line up the serve themselves, when she was accosted again.
“I just wanted to thank you for inviting me. And say that it’s very nice to finally meet you. The famous Elizabeth.”
Ladybug turned at Bethany’s voice, stomach somersaulting. “Of–of course! I’m so delighted you came. And yes, it’s very nice to officially meet you as well.” Holt’s former witch gave her a tightlipped smile, and although she was not good at reading people, Ladybug was certain she did not sense true animosity from the other woman. At least, not directed at her.
“Are you going to make all of his little kitty cat dreams come true? He’s been dying to work with you since . . .” Bethany’s voice trailed off, her eyes lowering. “I’m sorry, I forgot she was your family. The even more famous Willow. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Ladybug felt a stab of grief, mingled with empathy for what Holt must have put this girl through as Willow faded. “I don’t want a familiar. I’ve already told him that. And besides, I don’t think he actually wants to —“
Another tightlipped smile, before she was interrupted. “Trust me, he does. He has for some time. That’s his whole reasoning behind not pushing through his next assignment, you know. Said he’swaiting for someone. I can’t think of anyone else that someone might be. He’s spoken very highly of you over the years, you know. He thinks your skills are unparalleled.”
Ladybug opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. “It’s not your fault,” she blurted at last, a rush of heat up the back of her neck, hoping she wasn’t blundering this. “I–I just want you to know that. No matter what he said or how he made you feel.” The fire spread over her cheeks, threatening to burn her up. “Just . . . just know that it wasn’t your fault. It wouldn’t have make a difference who he was reassigned to, he —“
“He loved her.” Bethany nodded with a small smile. “I know. I’ve always known that, and he grieved her loss for a very long time. I actually don’t think he’ll ever get over it, which really makes you the best witch for the job. But thank you for saying that. I didn’t think it would, but that means a lot, especially coming from you.”
